#and one even inspired a scene in my fic so. i’m not unaffected!!!

[leqclerc]

Maybe an unpopular opinion but I love rain delays… like hell yeah broadcast that rain ASMR ambiance, show me little trucks and vans driving around the circuit. Blast those trackside songs in the background, distant and vaguely distorted like it’s one of those (but you’re in the bathroom at a party) youtube edits. Maybe the mechanics are indulging in a silly little card game or are making paper boats and racing them on the puddles and streams forming in the pitlane. 10/10 I’m highly entertained ☔️

[sw124]

Crossover scenario…

{Rainy is @rainy-nomad for those who need context}

Ok folks so…I was whittled down and I decided to both read and watch the anime Assassination Classroom and…I’m hooked, also Rainy [the one who got me into it] started doing a crossover with it and…I decided to do a small fic just to both entertain myself and those who enjoy my content. As all who read my work know both Rainy and I collaborated on a the AU name Jitterbug for her AU of Sun and Moon from Security Breach. Those who read my little stories know of my oc Clover for FNAF Security Breach, for those who don’t, check out my work here on tumblr.

Anyway on to the point, fans of Rainy’s work will note the new crossovers an Sun and Moon being Sensei Koro’s sons, inspired I then started thinking about Clover being among his children. I’ve already thought of so many scenarios and scenes that would be a hoot to write but this in one particular scene in question…… I just HAD TO WRITE AND SHARE!

An so you know I just started this series so I’m not familiar with most characters but thats why I got the manga, however I’m gonna work with only a small group of characters till I’m properly familiar with the series. Please bare with me and enjoy.

[Well….shall we get started?]

Classroom 3-E was strangely…quiet today, everyone could feel something was..wrong. Even the teacher seemed to be out of sorts, constantly turning to look out the window. Nagisa wasn’t sure what it was but…this feeling started three days ago, everyone in the main building had suddenly gotten violently sick. He turned to look at Sun and Moon…the two of them staring out the window just like their father.

“Hey…Nagisa….” He turned to Kayano, her expression giving away more then words could say…she knew something.

“Yeah?”

“Do you think…it’s true?”

‘It’ being the rumor of a strange plague going around, Kunugigaoka Junior High wasn’t the only place being affected by this strange sickness. Another school was hit as well and there were a few cases in some hospitals, the sickness mostly consisted of sever abdominal pain, violent vomiting/diarrhea that lead to dehydration if not monitored carefully, but it wasn’t deadly but the affects lasted a while.

However…something didn’t feel right about this so called ‘plague’ true it affected their school but the first school that got this sickness was far away and remote. On top of that only a few students got ill, the rest were all fine and they recovered in less then a few hours while everyone in their school continued to suffer. Not just students but teachers as well, classroom 3-E was the only class unaffected…

But thats not what really bothered him..not exactly, what bothered him was about two weeks ago a group of kids from the main building were talking about a a random cat that died saying it was ‘disposed’ of by someone…and of course Classe E was the one getting blamed. It was really disgusting to hear the rumors, everyone thinking they tortured the cat. From what he heard the cat just got hit by a car, it was old an slow. He knew this…cause he actually saw this cat periodically around the old building.

When he found the cat it had just gotten hit by a car…poor thing….saw it had a collar but no name tag, just a little charm on it. The charm itself didn’t look special, just a little four leaf clover shaped charm, something you’d find in a little bead set…an yet something about it felt…odd. Weird enough that when he gave the cat a proper burial he kept the charm and collar just in case he found the cats owner….that was also…when-

“Nagisa!” Kayano whispered harshly.

Nagisa jumped a little and turned to Kayano “The illness….no I-“

“What?!…You didn’t hear? Everyone’s saying the illness is being caused by a ghost roaming around the school!”

…What? This was new to him, now there was a ghost?

“Quit being stupid, that was started out of hysteria. Pretty sure it’s some kind of virius, just haven’t figured out what kind yet.” Growled Ryoma.

Nagisa looked back to the front of the class, Sensei Koro was still writing out some sentences while staring outside. There was something going on…but what?

Suddenly the school bell rang for lunch, Sensei Koro placed down one of the pieces of chalk and turned to his class.

“Lunchtime everyone! I’m gonna pop over to Tokyo for some spicy ramen, Sunny, Moony can you do me a favor. I’ll be back in a little bit, if you all need anything hit me up on my cellphone!” An like that he took off into the sky, going his usual Mach 20.

Sun and Moon reached into their bags pulling out an envelope labeled for them, the moment the envelopes came out…they disappeared. Having the same speed and efficiency as their father, the two of them walking calmly out of the classroom.

“What do you think was in the letters?” Pondered Kanzaki.

“Who knows…probably something about eating healthy but given neither of them looked embarrassed or annoyed…it’s safe to say that it probably has to do with whats going on in school.” Ms.Vitch was next to chime in.

Karasuma was on the phone with someone from the ministry of health, giving details on the conditions of some of the students.

The only one not really affected by what was going on was Karma, he seemed to be as calm as ever, heck he probably was enjoying the fact the teachers in the main part of the school were getting sick too and badly for that matter. But everyone agreed that no one could be safe from this, everyone was bringing hand sanitizer. Nevertheless everyone was eating their lunches, Moon and Sun came back after ten minutes…looking a little troubled.

“Hey, you guys ok?” Asked Kayano.

Neither of them answered, Karma turn and motioned everyone outside. Nagisa, Kayano, Kanzaki, Vitch and Karasuma followed while the rest of the class stayed. They gathered outside near the equipment shed, once there Karma sat down and started eating.

“So whats up?” Kanzaki opened his bento.

“Lets cut to the chase, we all know somethings going on in the main building and already its blaming us. I eves dropped on some students and already they plan to come up here and trash our building thinking we’re the cause of this strange illness. Their gonna do it in three days.” Smiled Karma taking a bite of fried chicken.

….Wait, he looked in his box, he didn’t pack fried chicken, he packed meatballs…he sat it aside, probably the Sensei’s doing.

“Your not gonna eat that, it looks delicious!” Said Kayano.

“…Not hungry, anyway like I said everyone in the main building is blaming us for this sickness. Problem is they got no proof, if we clear up whats going on maybe we can prevent them from getting up here and doing damage.”

“Why do they always blame us, seriously their paranoid.” Said Kanzaki.

“Never the less they’re probably serious on coming up here, the fact we’re not affected is what’s fueling their paranoia anyway. If some of us got sick with this so called ‘plague’ they’d still think we’re the cause.” Said Karasuma.

He continued. “Anyway we sent samples over to the ministry of health and it turns out that its not a virus, it’s some kind of spore.”

“Spore?” Everyone turned to him.

“Thats what our scientists are saying, its harmless but given its affects on the students it still needs to be dealt with quickly and quietly…though we need to know where to start.”

Irina suddenly thought of something and smirked. “I say we investigate the school itself, check the air systems and see if someone released anything in there. Keep it small though, too many of use will make things difficult.”

“Should we bring Koro-Sensei?” Asked Kayano.

“No…he seems preoccupied with something else, but we should tell him what we’re doing. Maybe bring Sun an Moon with us though.” Said Karasuma, it was a good idea he had to give Irina that.

[Skip to near midnight]

Nagisa, Kayano, Karasuma, Irina, Kanzaki, accompanied by Sun and Moon met at the back of the main building of the school. Everyone wearing masks, Sun and Moon wearing their own style of course.

“Thanks for helping us guys.” Kayano turned to Sun and gave him a little bow.

“Its no trouble, we’d like to see this clear up as soon as possible…” Sun gave a nervous little chuckle before turning to his brother…who didn’t say anything.

“Your dad ok with this?” Ask Irina.

“He’s….sorta occupied with something else right now, we told him we’re gonna help you guys but we didn’t really give details.” Said Sun.

“Alright enough talk, lets begin.” Said Karasuma.

Everyone laid out the plan, scout out the main places the spores could could be found, Sun and Moon would take the roof, Karasuma and Kayano would check the classrooms, Irina and Kanzaki would check the gym while Nagisa would check the kitchen.

Finding it proved to be no problem, the kitchen seemed clean but looks were very deceiving. He started looking around…suddenly regretting not grabbing a proper dinner at home. His stomach growled a bit but ignored it….thats when he twitched feeling. He looked down and in his hand was…a a bento wrapped in a green cloth.

Nagisa sighed and pulled out his walkie talkie.

“Hey Sun, I appreciate the thought but I don’t think its safe to eat something right now.”

There was a pause…then Moon responded. “What the heck are you talking about?”

“….I just had a bento dropped into my hand a moment ago, since your dad’s not here I assumed it was Sun…wait Moon did you-“

Moon cut him off. “No one brought food, if there’s spores it’d be too dangerous to do so.”

There was…a long pause before Nagisa looked down at his hand, he was about to say something when…he suddenly found the box was now sitting on the counter, unwrapped and a pair of chopsticks all set neat and tightly. There was even a freshly made cup of tea setting there too, there was a note sitting there too.

‘Please enjoy, thank you!’

There was no name…but there was a picture of a four leaf clover, needless to say he wasn’t gonna eat it, not when there-

Wait…a clover? He reached into his pocket and pulled out the charm, but the moment he looked at it..it disappeared. He flinched…then he felt it, someone behind him. He turned to find…well an adult but for a second he didn’t see anything…until he looked down. There standing before him was…a kid….wearing a plague doctor mask…but the clothes were not what he expected. She wore a scarf on her head with a flower on it, a white apron with green frills and a four leaf clover with its four leafs decorated differently with either hearts, leaves, spots and one was just a solid color. The clothes under the apron from what Nagisa could see were were a pair of pastel overalls and a white shirt.

Then he noticed….this kid had ‘four’ arms….similar to Sun and Moon.

“….Um….hi-“

An like that the figure disappeared, the walkie talkie up by his head already calling.

“Sun, Moon, your dad said you guys have an older brother, does he…wear a plague mask by any chance?”

There was a long pause before Moon answered.

“No…we have a sister that does though….”

“WHAT?!” Irina shouted over the walkie.

“Wait a minute, I thought your dad said you guys had a brother!” Said Kayano next.

“Yeah we do, but you guys only asked about ‘sons’ you never asked if he had any daughters…which he does, she’s still in elementary school though.” Replied Sun….

But then asked. “Why do you ask?”

“Does she also….wear an apron with a clover on it, wear a cloth headband with a flower-“

An the twins were by his side.

“WHERE IS SHE?!” They screamed, both of them sounding like they were told their dad was wearing a bikini or something.

“Whoa! S-She was just here…she made me something to eat apparently.”

The twins looked over the food and then…both looked up at each other before Moon picked up his cellphone and made a call.

“…Dad its me, I think we found out what Clover’s been up to. Check her little cabinet and see if those new mushrooms she brought home are gone…..thought so, she’s here at the school now. Yeah we’re sure, Nagisa just saw her and she even made him something to eat, its her.” Moon had just hung up when Koro-Sensei appeared beside them.

“What on earth is my baby doing here so late at night!?”

Nagisa gave a blank stare before Koro-Sensei looked at the boxed lunch, opening it there was a gourmet spread of rolled eggs, veggies, sliced hotdogs that looked like octopi and fresh fried chicken.

“Oh without a doubt she’s here…but this doesn’t make sense why is she in ‘plague’ mode an why is she targeting the school?” Pondered Koro-Sensei.

Everyone soon converged in the kitchen and was given a quick update on the situation, Karasuma turned to Sun and started the questions.

“So whats the deal with your ‘sister’ and this ‘plague mode’ your father’s talking about?”

“Her name is Clover and ‘plague’ mode is what when our sister is feeling extremely spiteful or is has a serious grudge against someone or something. Lately she’s been at the house cause her school up in the mountains had some issues with flooding that was about a month ago an she was ok…up until two weeks ago.” Moon sighed rubbing the back of his head.

“What happened two weeks ago?” Asked Irina.

“We’re not sure, she started being distant and locking herself up in her room. Not just that but she was wearing her mask at all times, that for us is never a good sign.”

Wait…two weeks ago…Nagisa spoke next.

“Your sister…wouldn’t have had a pet cat would she?”

Everyone turned to him.

“….There is a stray she looks after….why?” Asked Sun.

Nagisa reached into his pocket and pulled out the charm and collar.

“Two weeks ago a cat got ran over by a car, I gave it a proper burial but kept the collar and charm in case I ran into the owner.” He handed the items over to Koro-Sensei.

Instantly he bursted into tears, not just him but Sun too….Moon cried too but his was more subdued…everyone stared.

“MY POOR BABY’S IN MOURNING!!!” Cried Koro-Sensei.

“POOR CLOVER!!! SHE DIDN’T WANT US TO SEE HER SAD!!!” Cried the twins.

Everyone just stared at them before Irina spoke up. “This doesn’t explain anything, what does her cat dying have anything to do with everyone getting sick?!”

Kayano thought for a moment…then a thought came to mind, she turned to Nagisa. “Nagisa, you said you buried the cat right?”

Nagisa nodded.

“Where exactly did you bury the cat?”

“I buried it near that vacant lot…an I left it some flowers too, silly I know but I felt bad for it.” It was then he noticed Kayano’s face going slightly pale.

“….Kaedae?” Kanzaki stepped closer to her.

“I saw a few kids from the elite classes near there…I saw them kicking some dirt around along with some flowers. I overheard them saying some mean things about our class but I didn’t think anything of it….but now-“

The room went cold.

“….This explains everything…” said Koro-Sensei, halting his tears and gently tapping his chin with a tentacle, he returned the collar and charm back to Nagisa who proceeded to pocket the items.

He continued. “Clover hasn’t touched our class room because one, its a classroom I personally teach an her brothers attend and two she spared our classroom from her ‘plague’ out of gratitude to Nagisa for giving her favorite kitty a proper burial. The students from the main building probably saw you bury the cat and believed it was yours thus they proceeded to desecrate that poor creatures grave. Clover must have witnessed both events an thus triggered ‘plague’ mode in her. Before her school was closed due to the flooding damage there was an incident involving a special kind of mushroom at her school.”

“Mushroom?” Everyone looked up.

“Its a very unique species found only in the mountains, a few children had picked these mushrooms and on a dare at them. They all came down with the same ailments as the students here, however my daughter has advance medical knowledge and was able to treat them within an hour. The mushroom itself is toxic but not deadly even in large quantities, its side effects involve sever abdominal pain and…well as we all know of the two other side affects.” Koro-Sensei reached out a long tentacle and pulled out a pot, with another dragged it all along the inside of the cooking utensil.

Pulling it out he held it close to his face, he turned to look at everything.

“No doubt about it, she spiked all the food in the school with it. Its also safe to say she used her powder capsules of it in everyone’s bentos. Knowing my little sweetie she probably overheard a lot of students and teachers badmouthing our class and thus decided to teach them all a lesson, not just the ones who messed up the grave.”

With their speed the twins along with their father had disinfected the entire kitchen, cleaning it of the substance.

“I’ll talk to the Principle tomorrow let him know the issue has been dealt with.” Said Karasuma, honestly he wasn’t feeling to sorry for the students at least the ones affected by poisoning.

The principles methods don’t account for basic human compassion…just fear and power, Nagisa smiled knowing that the threat was dealt with. When everyone was distracted he turned and walked out into the hallway…he turned slightly and…there was Clover standing there, back to the wall. Nagisa wasn’t too surprised, now knowing who this person was….

“Your Clover…right?” Asked Nagisa.

She nodded.

Nagisa smiled, walked over and knelt down infront of her, reaching into his pocket he pulled out both the collar and charm and held them out to her…who gingerly took them from his hand.

“I was hoping to return this…here you go, also thank you for the food…I’ll go eat it now.” Nagisa stood up but paused…an then held out his hand.

“I’m sure your dad and brothers wanna talk to you…its ok I’ll go in with you.” He held out his hand…but watched as she reached and pulled off her mask, her face was more round then Sun an Moons but she had big green eyes glittered and a sweet little button nose.

She sniffled and tried to wipe away her tears.

“I-I’m sorry….the-the kids here were s-so mean! I got angry!” She sobbed brokenly, pushing herself into him and hugging him tightly. “They said so many me-mean things about my kitty, an more stuff about daddy’s class….I-I’m sorry!”

Nagisa wasn’t sure what to do…given she lost a pet and hearing people mock her father’s class must’ve been a lot for her.

“SWEETIE!!”

Koro-Sensei bursted through the kitchen doors and already his daughter was up in his tentacles, hankie’s dabbing her cheeks and nose.

“My poor little darling! Why didn’t you tell daddy what was wrong, or your brothers we would have understood..”

“I-I didn’t want you to be sad daddy! You or-or Moony or S-Sunny! WAAAHHH!!!” The little one buried herself into his chest and sobbed.

“OH my selfless angel, you don’t ever have to worry about us!” Said Koro-Sensei, sobbing along with his daughter…soon joined by his twins.

…….Things just became more weird now.

End.

[solalunar-eclipse]

Sonic Boom - S3E1

Episode title: Friendship 101

Word count: about 3000 words

Author’s Note: I’m trying a rather new format for this fic, since it’s based on a TV show with various songs and camera angles. If you have any comments about whether it works well or not, please let me know!

(Also, the theme song choice is all thanks to khinesthetic, who used it here and inspired me to put it in this fic.)

Next

[cue Mr. Blue Sky by ELO (0:00-3:45)]

[The show opens on a zoomed-out view of Hedgehog Village from above. Stone walls separate the village from the wilderness outside. There are large spaces at several points throughout the structure for entry and exit. A large patch of grass with benches scattered about sits at one end of the village, and a marketplace made up of wood-and-cloth stalls runs along one of the walls. Houses are grouped in seemingly random clusters throughout the town, and the (in)famous Meh Burger stand sits all on its own, with picnic tables spread across its wooden flooring. As the music progresses, the camera begins to zoom in on the village- then on one of the streets in particular- and rotates down to eye level to face…]

Sonic the Hedgehog walked through the streets of Hedgehog Village with a bounce in his step, occasionally dancing to the music playing through his earbuds. As he wandered throughout the town, he passed the usual people running their stores, arguing over botched orders at Meh Burger, and, at one point, Aqua the Rabbit absolutely freaking out over the loss of a single follower on Angstagram (the latest social media network for moody teens).

He did a 360-degree spin before winking and pointing finger guns at Amy Rose when he spotted her haggling with the local grocery store owner. She paused briefly to wave at him with a smile. “Hi, Sonic!” she called, completely ignoring the irritated fennec in the process.

Then, the music froze and changed to something extremely ominous as she turned around to face the shopkeeper once more. A dangerous gleam appeared in her eyes as she pulled out her signature hammer. “Now then, about those prices you’ve been setting lately…”

The song cut back in as the view switched back to Sonic, who was now moving away from the scene at a slightly faster pace.

Really, though, he was more than happy to see his other friends not long after. Knuckles and Sticks were currently busy rummaging through the town’s garbage together, excitedly chatting about the latest piece of interesting junk they’d found, while Tails was fixing someone’s broken rain gutter (and attempting to ‘improve’ it in the process, which meant that it could now measure the amount and intensity of rainfall in a storm- a very useful, though unfortunately unwanted improvement).

Surprisingly enough, as he continued on his way through Hedgehog Village, he managed to get people from a few different places to wave back at him when he said hello. Although perhaps it wasn’t quite so surprising when one considered that this was one of the most cliched opening sequences that could possibly happen in any movie or TV show. Ever.

And of course, the only logical outcome of this scene led to everyone beginning to stop their usual activities and gather in one of the few open spaces in the town, clearly prepared to break into a fantastic musical dance number straight out of Broadway. Incredibly, this was one of the few moments in which everyone in the village seemed to be able to get along…

...until Eggman’s latest giant robot slammed feet-first into the ground, sending everyone off-kilter and scrambling for cover. Shrieks of panic rose in place of the music as the villagers fled the scene to hide in their houses. The dramatic entrance didn’t just ruin the mood, it absolutely crushed it with the sheer force of its impact.

And that was, obviously, when the show really began.

[cue In Your Face by Shockwave Sound (0:00-1:04)] 

[Each of the five members of Team Sonic appears on a black screen with their name spelled out in their signature colors (blue, yellow, red, pink, and green) and does a couple of cool fighting moves, followed by snippets of scenes featuring them from previous episodes of the show for about eight seconds each. All five of them then appear together in their usual fighting stances, emphasizing their status as a team.

The Eggman logo then appears in an ominous, glowing red, backlighting the doctor himself and all his creations- before the lights flick on to reveal him alone in his evil lair with a green screen behind him, at which point he shrieks and covers the camera with a hand. Then, neon blue electronic lines begin to appear across the screen and the camera spirals to follow them, selecting one particular line to trace. Not long after, said line ends at a circle which, with a flash, turns into the words ‘Sonic Boom’. Beneath the title, it says ‘Ancient Secrets’ in neon blue.]

[Then the music ends, at which point the episode title- “Friendship 101”- appears for a few seconds in the same color before the show itself returns.]

Sonic scrambled to his feet and zipped over to Tails, pulling him up from where he’d fallen after the robot’s overdramatic arrival. Amy managed to do the same with both Knuckles and Sticks simultaneously, which let Sonic stare for a moment, startled, and then promptly resolve to remember not to get on her bad side anytime soon.

Soon enough, the team had scrambled into their usual positions, ready to fight. Amy and Sticks kicked the battle off by handling the various smaller robots that threatened to get too close to their team, never faltering (and in fact seeming a bit gleeful in the badger’s case) despite the sheer number of enemies. Knuckles, meanwhile, launched Sonic bodily into the air for Tails to catch, before picking up a boulder about the size of a house and lobbing it directly at the robot’s chest.

“Hey! Easy with the boulders- QuakeBot took a lot of effort to make, you know!” Eggman shrieked from above, hovering in the relative safety of his Eggmobile. 

(Relative, in this case, was of course in comparison to mixing absurdly volatile chemicals in a lab, bothering Shadow at any and/or all hours of the day, or being on Tails’s bad side when the fox had a glue gun. The doctor still remembered that situation all too well, and currently ranked it as far more terrifying than merely being punted into the stratosphere by kids under half his height and about a third his age.)

Sonic paused to stare at Eggman from where he was currently dangling in the air. A smirk began to spread slowly across his face. “…what did you just call it?”

“You heard me the first time!” the doctor roared, now incredibly embarrassed. “I named it that since it makes the ground shake when it moves, like an earthquake??”

General laughter came from the heroes assembled on the ground and in the sky.

“Argh! Nobody appreciates my genius around here! Now, QuakeBot, stop standing around and start attacking!”

“I suggested TerraBot, since it still has to do with earth and is a play on the word ‘terror’, but nobody ever listens to my ideas, now do they?” Orbot muttered irritably to himself, tucked inside the Eggmobile.

“I listen to all your ideas!” Cubot offered encouragingly.

Orbot’s mouth shifted into a small smile. “Thanks, Cubot.”

Meanwhile, Sonic had been pulled into a spin by Tails, who whirled the hedgehog around before letting him shoot downwards toward the robot in a spin dash- only for him to get caught and sent flying into the nearest house.

He shook off the surprise quickly (and apparently sustained absolutely zero damage despite having literally crashed through a house, because superpowered teenagers), darting back over to the group. “Well, uh, guess it’s time for Plan B then!”

Crickets chirped in the ensuing silence. Even the robot had stopped moving to hear what he had to say.

“And the plan is…?” Amy prompted.

Sonic folded his arms with a huff. “I dunno, I thought you guys would have one!?”

The pink hedgehog rolled her eyes at that. 

Tails piped up. “I have an idea! Sonic, you’re going to need to be curled up for this, okay?”

The hero promptly did just that, before emitting a muffled “mmhmm?” from inside his layers of quills.

“Alright then, Amy, I need you to hit Sonic with your hammer right at the side of this house.”

Sonic’s blood ran cold. “Whoa whoa whoa, wait a second can we maybe rethink thiaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAHHHHH!”

He ricocheted all over the palace like a pinball, slamming into several key points of the robot thanks to Tails’s rapid calculations. However, the robot was sadly unaffected by his screaming at a pitch that came dangerously close to shattering glass.

The robot was easily disabled and the attack overall quickly repelled after that. Thankfully, it took Sonic only a moment to recover from his impromptu stint as an out-of-control projectile and get back to fighting with the others…complete with a “Let’s do that AGAIN!” moment, which was met with a resounding no from both Amy and Tails. 

Their ears were both still rather sore from last time, after all.

After Eggman was punted all the way back to his island by a well-placed kick from Sticks, though, the crew was about to head over to Meh Burger for a post-battle meal when they discovered that they had an entirely different problem to take care of. The villagers, who were beginning to come out of hiding after the attack, were furious upon seeing the damage dealt to their homes and stores.

“How could you let this happen?” one shouted.

Before long, the villagers found themselves a more specific target when the owner of the house that Sonic had smashed into pointed her finger directly in his face. “This mess is awful!” she cried. “And it’s all his fault!”

Within seconds, a mob of people had descended upon the overtaxed teen.

“I’ve never known a hero so irresponsible.” one fumed.

“How dare you!” the fennec from earlier roared.

The elderly wolf of the village shook her cane at him. “Shame on you!”

Sonic could feel himself beginning to tense up as the villagers turned their ire on him. Whether or not he’d admit it to anyone, he needed two main things in order to be his usual heroic, cheerful self: open space and positive reinforcement. Right now, he was getting exactly the opposite of both of those.

And he was not feeling good about it.

He looked briefly over to his friends for help, but Sticks had already vanished, Knuckles and Tails looked more nervous than anything, and Amy was already walking towards him with that look in her eye…

“Sonic, next time you do need to work on making sure the robot doesn’t catch you, you know-”

A streak of blue shot out of the village, leaving nothing but a scorched trail of grass and the snap of a sonic boom behind.

Sonic didn’t slow down until he reached the mountains- which technically wasn’t very far from the town at all, so he ran quite a bit more after that until he ended up in the middle of the jungle. Then, he sat down with his back to a tree and his arms around his knees, feeling very unheroic and overall pretty lame.

The blue hedgehog frowned at the dirt. Honestly, some days it really did feel like nobody seemed to like him. The only person who ever even suggested he was important on a regular basis was Tails, and Sonic didn’t blame him at all for not jumping into the middle of that crowd. Tails was only thirteen to his seventeen and a half years old- not exactly an age when he should be expected to go toe-to-toe with a crowd of angry adults.

Still, though. When being a hero got him all risk (no matter how low) and no reward...it was difficult for him to keep hold of that core feeling of “I can make the world a better place to live in!”, which, despite all his other claims, was truly at the center of what had motivated him to start fighting against Eggman so long ago…

[The scene morphs in a manner which shows the lighting shifting so that the sun is overhead. A sound effect of birds chirping plays over the scene change. This implies that it’s been several hours since he first fled the village.]

Sonic was still lost in thought when the snap of a twig in the bushes made him jump to his feet in surprise. The surrounding vegetation rustled ominously for a moment...only to reveal the four members of his team in front of him. He watched them all cautiously, his expression tense. More than anything, he looked ready to run at a moment’s notice- something which only served to make his friends(?) seem a little more distressed. “Uh…hey, guys?” he began tentatively.

“Sonic, I…” Amy began forcefully, before stopping herself. At first, it looked like she was about to scold him again, but then suddenly her face fell. “Listen, Sonic, we’ve all been talking a lot about what happened back at the village…and there’s something I want to say.” She gave a slightly tired sigh. 

“I know we usually like to make jokes and witty commentary, but...sometimes, the world’s just a difficult place to be in.” she said. “...so we really do need to talk about serious stuff occasionally, even though I know it’s tough for you to even mention how you’re feeling. Unless, you know, it’s ‘great!’ or ‘cool!’ or something like that.”

Sonic cringed at the mere idea, looking more and more like he thought running away was the preferable option here.

“So what I wanted to say was that in a world where there are too many people trying to beat you down...what I was trying to do was tell you how to be more tolerant, because I thought that would help. I figured you can’t change how other people are going to be, just yourself, so I hoped that might make things better.

“But...I’m not actually a licensed therapist- yet, anyway. So I might have been wrong on how I went about that. Maybe...instead of telling you off for not being able to stop all those people...in the future I’ll pull out my hammer and tell them to knock it off already. Does that sound better to you?” she asked.

The blue hedgehog froze. “Ames…I...” he croaked, trying his best not to think about why exactly it felt like his throat was so tight all of a sudden.

Sticks folded her arms. “I like that plan! Those people are way too crazy sometimes…and you guys know I have a verrrrry high tolerance for crazy.”

“We can make the villagers quit bugging you together, just like how we fight Eggman!” Knuckles added encouragingly. “It’s always better that way, isn’t it?”

There was still one person who hadn’t spoken yet, though.

Suddenly, Tails crashed full-force into Sonic, squeezing him in a hug that for once he didn’t pretend to hate. “You know I’ve always, always, always got your back, right, Sonic? No matter what?” he asked, looking up at his older brother. “Even if I don’t always know how to do it right.”

The blue hedgehog simply nodded, not trusting his voice to help him maintain his ‘cool guy’ status.

“It’s okay if you don’t feel up to talking about it now, though.” the fox added understandingly, stepping back but still leaving a hand on his arm. 

“But!” Knuckles added. “We won’t tell anyone if you ever decide you do need to get some stress off your chest every once in a while!” He smacked his own chest with a fist for emphasis.

“Nobody needs to know.” Sticks growled, the camera suddenly showing a dramatic angle of her face as the lighting dropped noticeably.

“Uh…that’s kinda dark.” Sonic said, holding up a finger with a bit of a confused frown, which let the lighting and camera angle zip back to normal.

“Anyway!” The pink hedgehog clapped her hands together, turning to face the group as a whole. “What do you guys think about heading over to my house and watching some movies? I’ll even…” She sighed, her whole body slumping. “…make some messy, simple, unprofessional chili dogs. In my state-of-the art kitchen. I know Sonic probably could use a pick-me-up right now, after all.”

“Thanks, Ames! You’re the best!” the hedgehog in question said cheerfully, the promise of good food and great companionship boosting his mood significantly.

Then, his posture shifted once again into something a little more vulnerable. “And thanks to all you guys. For, y’know, everything.”

“Of course!” Amy chirped.

Tails smiled at him. “No problem, Sonic.”

Sticks folded her arms. “That’s what a team’s for, ain’t it?”

“Of course it is!” Knuckles said, in that rather confusing manner where nobody was actually sure if he understood anything about what had just happened.

The echidna actually walked over to Sonic after that particular declaration, though, placing a hand on his shoulder as his face became uncharacteristically serious for a second. “Really, Sonic, we can all help you out, alright? Nobody gets to yell at our leader without getting yelled at back!” he declared, punching a fist into his other hand.

The hedgehog blinked twice before looking up at his friend. “You…just called me the leader?”

“Well, duh! That’s why everyone calls it Team Sonic, right?” Knuckles asked with a smile, letting an awkward (but genuine) grin spread across Sonic’s face.

Within seconds, the hero found himself squeezed in a big hug from all sides by his friends- and then actually lifted off the floor through a joint effort from Knuckles and Amy. 

“Guys- come on! I can’t even move here!” he cried out, his legs flailing so quickly they made a vibrating noise in the air. “Guyyyyssss….” he whined, though nobody seemed to care much about his halfhearted complaints (judging by the happy expressions on their faces).

Then, the episode began to end, as evidenced by an iris out transition. The slowly shrinking circle paused for a moment on Sonic’s current expression, highlighting it against the otherwise black screen. He now sported a sheepish, if slightly pleased smile, complete with a faint pink blush on his face from all the positive attention. 

Clearly Sonic liked being, well, liked far more than he let on.

Then, the circle snapped closed with a pop, and the credits began to roll.

[Voice Actors: 

Roger Craig Smith

Colleen Villard

Travis Willingham

Cindy Robinson

Nika Futterman

Mike Pollock

Kirk Thornton

Wally Wingert

Bill Freiberger

Original creation by:

Evan Baily

Donna Friedman Meir 

Sandrine Nguyen

Bill Freiberger

Takashi Iizuka

Writer/editor:

Solalunar “Sol” Eclipse

Thank you for watching reading.]

[ananicoleta]

I’ll Always Be Here

Summary: Penelope makes a last second decision that she does not want to be in Space Jam 2 without Pepe, and she quickly goes home to comfort him.

Hello, everyone! I’m back with a new fic about Space Jam 2, this time focusing on Pepe and Penelope. This fic was inspired from and ask, submitted by anonymus on @thebrownssociety 's account. They said they didn't want to write it, however, so I did instead (with their permission of course).

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters. They all belong to Warner Bros.

Enjoy!

“Ms. Le Pew, filming starts in ten!” The voice of a staff member reached Penelope’s ears, muffled by the door of her changing room.

“I’ll be there in a minute!” She called back. Then, there was the sound of footsteps walking away, meaning that she was all alone again.

Penelope sighed and looked at the scrip in her hands. She had tried memorizing the lines all morning, but with no result. Her brain just couldn’t process the text, the words danced in front of her eyes and the letters all became hieroglyphs with no meaning. No matter how much she tried to concentrate, her mind always drifted away, far from the Warner Bros. lot, far from the film set and the film itself, traveling all the way back to her home, where she knew there was her husband, alone.

It was so unfair. 

Pepe didn’t deserve all the hate and backlash he had gotten. Her beloved had done nothing wrong ever! All those people that claimed Pepe was encouraging a deviant behaviour had no idea what they were talking about. They didn’t know him, so why were they speaking like that?! Her Pepe, was the kindest, most romantic and gentle soul she had ever met. He would never hurt a fly, let alone do those kind of things.

But people didn’t seem to understand. No matter how many times Pepe and the other Looney Tunes tried to clarify this misunderstanding, how many times they told people those were just cartoons and they were just actors, how many times she tried to explain she had not been assaulted, their narrow minds just couldn’t comprehend it. In the end, the descision to remove Pepe from the movie and from the future Looney Tunes productions was made and, despite all the protests, no one had been able to do anything.

Those news had terribly depressed Pepe. Every single one of them knew how much the skunk liked acting and how fond he was of cartoons, so naturally, the whole situation was like a punch in the gut. He isolated himself from the rest of the world, which deeply worried both her and the rest of their family. At least Speedy, who knew better than any of them what it felt like to go through all that, had tried to cheer him up and comfort him, and to some extent, he succeded. Everytime Speedy talked to Pepe, he always felt better afterwards and acted a bit more like his usual self.

Still, concern always seemed to pull on Penelope’s heart strings, now more than ever, considering Pepe was all by himself at home, feeling lonely and depressed that he couldn’t be with them and do what he loved. And oh, how she wanted him to be near her right now! She wanted to hold his hand, as they walked on the film set, she wanted to hear him whisper romantic things in her ear, and then scold him because “it’s nor the time nor the place!”, but both of them knowing she liked it a lot. She wanted him to make her laugh and smile and fill her stomach with butterflies. She wanted...

Suddenly, she noticed a wet spot on her page and wondered what could that be. Then she noticed another. And another. Bringing her hand towards her face she realized that her fur was wet. She was crying.

Tossing the script aside, she buried her face in her hands and cried, and cried, and cried, letting all of her frustration out.

Knock, knock

Penelope jumped. “Who is it?”

“Sorry to bother you, Ms. Le Pew, but filming is starting now.”

“Yeah, s-sure, I’ll be out immediately.” She said, trying not to sound disstressed.

She got up and checked her reflection, making sure there were no clues that she had cried, then exited her trailer and marched towards the set, desperately whishing that Pepe was by her side.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

“Ms. Le Pew, are you even listening?” 

That sentence snapped Penelope out of her thoughts. She quickly realized that no, she had not been listening. Instead, she kept galncing at the empty spot, where Pepe should have been...

“I am sorry, Mr. Lee.” She apologised. “Please, continue.”

So, the man went on about how he wanted that specific scene acted and all that blah, blah, blah that Penelope, again, did not, could not, listen too. What was Pepe doing right then, as her and the others were filming? Was he feeling lonely or had he found something entertaining to do? At least that was what he had promised her that morning. I promise you, ma cherie, I will be fine. 

Those were his exact words. But the question was, did he mean them? Or they were just pretty lies, meant to chase away all her worries? Knowing how much Pepe loved her, she wouldn’t put it past him to hide his sadness just so she could have a good time...

Finally, Mr. Lee finished his rant and they were ready to film.

It should have excited Penelope. Ever since the first Space Jam released, she had dreamed of filming a sequel. Back then it seemed so exciting and fun to relive all that. Now, however, it was different. Suddenly, she realized that she didn't want to film at all.

“Okay, people, places!”

Just then, a thought blossomed in her mind. What if...? But no, she couldn’t do that. People were counting on her. She couldn’t possibly... Or could she? Truth was she didn’t play a big part and did not have that many lines, so it wouldn’t really be a problem if she left... would it? 

She looked around frantically. She had very little time to make a decision and she needed to make it right then!

“Ready! Actio-”

“Wait!” The word had left her mouth before she could even stop them. 

Everyone looked at her.

“Is there a problem, Ms. Le Pew?” Lee asked, confused.

“Yes, it is.” Penelope said. “I do not want to be in this movie anymore.” 

For a moment, silence engulfed the set. Then, the director’s voice rang clear, stuttering and, as Penelope had expected, trying to convince her against it.

“Ms. Le Pew, p-please, reconsider- I mean, you can’t- you can’t possibly-”

“Oh, I can. And I have.” She said confidently, ready to leave.

But Mr. Lee was not finished. Getting up, he marched right after her.

“Ms. Le Pew, why? Why do you want to leave production? Is there something wrong?”

“Yes, there is. My husband is not here and I don’t want to do this without him. Good day Mr. Lee.” And with that, she turned around and left, leaving behind a shocked director and a bunch of rather happy Looney Tunes.

“Guys, can’t you do something?” Mr. Lee said to the rest of the cast. “Convince her to come back?”

“For Warner’s sake, leave her alone, Doc.” Bugs said casually, munching on his carrot. “Even if we tried to convince her to retoin she’d refuse. Besides, we don’t wanna.” The other looneys nodded in agreement. “Now how ‘bout we get back ta filmin’?” The rabbit smiled (a bit) smugly at the director.

Mr. Lee sighed, realizing he had lost the battle, and yelled at everyone to get to their places again.

Meanwhile, Peneople was already out in the parking lot, unlocking her car, desperate to get to her beloved. As she drove back to Toon Town, not for one second did she regret her decision.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Pepe sat in his armchair, quietly reading.

It had been a long day. A long, boring day. His wife and friends had left in the morning to film Space Jam 2 and he had been alone ever since.

First, he tried taking a walk through Toon Town. Usually, a breath of fresh air, hearing the birds sing, the perfume of flowers and even the sight of other toons, going about their day, cheered Pepe up. It was so normal, so simple, yet he enjoyed it, and it reminded him to be grateful and take pleasure in the smallest things in life.

That day, however, it was different. The cent of flowers didn't smell as good as it did, the song of birds faded into obscurity, mixing with other sound and becoming insignificant, and the mere image of toons hurryig to work, filled him with depression. It reminded him he had no job anymore, no purpouse...

So he had returned home, picked his favorite romance book, Gone With The Wind, and sat down to read. But even that wasn't able to cheer him up.

He had truly lied to Penelope that morning. He was far from being fine. But, what else was he supposed to say? That he was sad and needed her there? How could he?! Penny had wanted to film that movie for so long. He couldn't take that away from her.

Just then, he heard the front door open and shot his head up in alarm. For a split second he thought someone had broken into his house (maybe some backround character thief that would be stupid enough to try to rob a house by walking through the fromt door?)

But, all his fears were cast aside and replaced with confusion when he saw his beautiful wife standing in front of him.

"Penny? What are you doing here?"

"I quit the movie." She said in an unaffected tone.

Pepe jumped on his feet. "Tu as fait quoi?!”

"I already told you. I don't want to film Space Jam 2 anymore." Her voice was, again, emotionless, showing absolutely no regret.

Walking towards her, he cupped her face in his hands. "But why?"

Pepe wasn't stupid. He had a hunch why she would do it. Yet, still he wanted to make doubly sure.

"Because I don't want to be in it, if you are not in it."

There it was.

Pepe sighed and caressed her face. "Ma cherie, don't let me spoil your fun-"

"But you're not! You never spoiled anything for me! Those bastards did when they kicked you out!"

"But you were so excited, Penny. You wanted this, so don't let me get in the way. Please, go back."

"But I don't want to!" Her voice now was hoarse and her eyes were filling with tears. "True, I was excited in the begining, but that changed when you were out. I don't want to do it without you, so don't ever feel guilty or say you are getting in the way. You are never getting in the way. It was my choice to leave, and I regret nothing, got it?" She was basically clinging to him now, gazing into his hazel orbs.

Looking into those beautiful eyes of hers and, seeing her passion, love and sincierity, filled Pepe with a strong emotion. Lifting her chin up a bit, he kissed his wife deeply. Penelope reciprocated this gesture, warping her arms tightly around his neck.

They stayed like that for a while, completely lost in their bliss. When they finally broke apart a few inches, Pepe had tears rolling down on his cheeks.

"Thank you for being here, my angel. Je t'aime beaucoup."

Penelope smiled. "I’ll alway be here, love. Et je t'aime aussi."

THE END

Translations: Ma cheire = my dear 

Tu as fait quoi?! = You did what?!

Je t'aime = I love you

Beaucoup = very much

Et = and

Aussi = as well

Thank you everyone for reading!

[blazedgraysons]

Killing Me Softly

The one where Grayson falls in love in under 12 hours

A/N: Here’s another fic inspired by literally nothing. I am pretty proud of this one though. To all the people who said nice things about Drunk Off You, just know that I read every single one of them and you own my heart and soul. Also, I know literally no one knows who I am but feel free to send asks or messages. I pinky promise to respond. ♡

Word Count: 1.7K

Pairing: Grayson Dolan x OC (Harlow)

Warnings: nothing really, it’s pretty tame minus a lil angst towards the end. 

“Are you B29?”

Harlow removes an earbud, looking up to meet big brown eyes staring back at her. It’s hard not to notice the rest of the man standing in the aisle.

Brown hair flops over his forehead as she moves her eyes down to appreciate the soft scuff lining his chin - not quite a beard, but not quite stubble. He’s dressed casually in a gym shirt that outlines every single bulging muscle paired with grey sweatpants and some Louis Vuitton slides. She nods slightly to his question, hoping the adonis of a man doesn’t notice that slight blush that’s appeared on her face. He offers her a gracious smile and effortlessly slings his carry-on into the overhead cabin.

“Looks like we’re neighbors then.” Harlow hums in acknowledgment, not sure why he’s so friendly. Most passengers would’ve just grabbed their seat and slept or occupied themselves, but this man intends on making himself known.

He slides into the neighboring seat, and Harlow is instantly overwhelmed. If she thought he looked good from afar, up close was even better. Here she could appreciate all the minute details — the dark mole on his chin, the expensive cologne, the 333 tattoo behind his ear. It took everything in her not to stare, so instead, she settles for quick glances hoping he would be too occupied by his phone to pay her any attention. If he did notice, he spared Harlow further embarrassment by not saying anything. She turns back to her magazine, a random Vogue issue she picked up in the airport convenience store to pass the time, mentally telling herself to calm down in order to get through the next three hours.

“ I’m Grayson, by the way. Just in case we crash, and you need to identify me.” He jokes, smiling widely and — oh shit, does he have a diamond in his tooth? Harlow is so screwed. 

—-

Grayson’s never been a big believer in fate until now. The idea of some external force dictating a situation in your life just seemed like bullshit. Yet, Grayson couldn’t describe meeting Harlow as anything else.

He had been irritated all the way up to that point. An overbooked plane forced him off his original flight and away from his twin brother. Ethan had offered to go with him, but Grayson didn’t see a point in delaying their trip even further and told him he’d meet him in Jersey. While the airline was over apologetic and gave him (terrible) perks, in order to make the next flight, he had to sacrifice his first-class seat for an economy red-eye flight. But at least he had a shitty hot towel to make up for it.

He scowled all the way through the check-in and tarmac, vowing to never fly with JetBlue again as he passed the first-class seats that he couldn’t help but stubbornly think, ‘That should be mine.’

It wasn’t until he reached his row that he realized what he thought was a hindrance was actually a blessing. Because there sitting in the seat next to him was a beauty that could only be described as ethereal. Her long, dark hair tumbles in tight coils down her shoulders as she sits crossed-leg, hunched over a magazine, biting her lip in furrowed concentration. She bobs her head slightly to whatever song she’s listening to as she quickly flips through the pages. She tucks her hair behind her shoulder, revealing blemished copper skin that reflects the light.

A small voice in his head (that suspiciously sounds like Ethan) tells him to stop being weird and talk to her. Before he can justify themillion reasons why he shouldn’t, an annoying cough comes from the lady behind him.

He turns around to glare at her a little and asks the mystery girl her seat number with a smile that he hopes comes off as charming and not predatory.

And fuck, he knows she has to be a blessing because she looks like she was sent straight from the gates of heaven to Grayson’s heart. Ironically, the plane’s fluorescent lights form a halo around her head (‘Or maybe you’re finally losing it.’ Ethan's voice tells him.) He blinks, once, twice, three times before realizing that the girl in front of him isn’t a sleep-deprived hallucination and is actually real. He tries to act unaffected by the slow once-over her round, onyx eyes give him. Still, when he notices her eyes lingering on his chest and thighs, he swallows hard before throwing his suitcase into the overhead and sitting down. 

The grumpy lady behind him gives him a look as she moves down the aisle, and he whips out his phone for a welcomed distraction. The girl, unaware of the havoc she was wreaking on Grayson’s mind and body, continues to sneak looks at him that were a little too obvious for Grayson to not notice. He debates whether or not to ask for her name until she turns back to her magazine and Grayson figures that she doesn’t want to be bothered anymore. It wasn’t until the voice in his head repeatedly calls him a pussy (‘Shut up, Ethan’ he thinks back) that he introduces himself. And when her plump lips turn up into a smile, Grayson pretends to not notice how screwed he is. 

—-

Conversation flows smoothly between the two of them after that. Grayson explains the situation with his original flight and his plans to surprise his mom for mother’s day while Harlow talks about her little brother and the birthday party she helped plan for him this weekend. They talk for so long that their conversation turns from typical discussion to hushed whispers to not disturb the other sleeping passengers. They finally pause for a break when the beverage attendant stops at their row.

Harlow’s honestly glad for the lull in conversation as it gives her time to reflect over what she’s learned. Grayson appears to be very humble despite being heavily involved in the influencer scene in Los Angeles, something Harlow desperately tries to stay far away from herself. Also, despite being one of the hottest guys she’s ever seen, he seems to be so shy that it’s endearing. She notices he stumbles over words, getting so excited about their conversations that he trips himself up.

“So in LA, what do you do for fun? Any friends? Boyfriend?” He asks coolly, trying not to be obvious about his intentions (which makes it so much more apparent in Harlow’s eyes) as he drinks his diet root-beer.

“I work for a high- fashion company doing PR, so I’m always there. I have a couple close friends, but since I’m working so much, I haven’t had that much time for a relationship or finding a guy worth making time for.” Harlow sighs wistfully.

“Ah, that makes sense about the magazine.” He nods, trying to hide his excitement. This situation seems to be working more and more in his favor. “And what guy would be worth making time for?”

“I don’t know honestly. It just seems that all the guys I run into in LA are beyond superficial. All my dates have just been talking about how many followers they have on Instagram or TikTok and just end in hookups. While there’s nothing wrong with that, it’s just hard when you want something more, you know?” She shrugs. And as much as Grayson hates to admit it, he does know. Hell, he’s probably been that guy once or twice in his younger years. Still, as he grows older, he craves the same things Harlow does: intimacy, connection, emotion. He takes another swallow of his drink before responding.

“Yeah, I mean hookups and one-night stands are great in the moment, but it’s hard when you just have love you want to give. It’s even harder now that my brother’s dating someone, ya know. Seeing someone you’re close with have what you want; it’s kinda hard not to be jealous.” He shares, hoping she relates and doesn’t think he’s weird for telling so much to someone he met a few hours earlier.

Harlow sits with that for a second before responding, “And what girl would you want to give your love to?” She whispers.

’Someone like you.’ Grayson thinks. But before he could make the bold confession, the plane announces its descent.

——

Grayson realizes almost immediately that he wasn’t paying that much attention to the flight details because the fact that there was a layover in Colorado flew over his head. He lets Harlow pass by him to stand in the aisle and grabs both his and her carry-on to take off the plane. As Grayson stands behind her (and tries not to stare at how incredible her ass looks in her leggings), he does what he’s best at: forming a game-plan. He realizes that a girl like Harlow is too good to let go. So, he figures he could grab a coffee with her, get her number, and plan a date for when they both are back in LA. He smiles, already thinking of the story he’ll get to tell Ethan when he gets to Jersey. As they both slowly move into the terminal, Harlow turns back to Grayson with a bright smile. He smiles back before asking —

“Do you want to get coffee?” He can’t help his heart from swelling as she bites her lip, a habit he notices she does a lot.

“Good, I thought you weren’t going to ask.” She laughs. “Wait here though, I have to run to the restroom.”

He nods, handing Harlow her carry-on. He sits down and pulls out his phone, already texting Ethan that he met his future soulmate.

Five minutes pass: He’s got the future planned out: the wedding, the kids, the farmland in Jersey and the tiny-home in Australia.

Ten minutes pass: He starts to get worried, but figures Harlow can handle herself.

Thirty minutes pass: He considers sending someone to the bathroom to check on her.

Two hours passed: He’s already cased the domestic airline terminal twice, looking for her dark curly hair. 

It’s not until the final call of flight 437-A to New Jersey that he understands: Harlow’s not coming back for him. And he can’t help it when his heart splits into two.

[deviantofthemind]

Sanders Sides Ficmas 2020

↪ 𝔉𝔦𝔠𝔪𝔞𝔰 𝔐𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔭𝔬𝔰𝔱 🎁 Dec 7: Cold - Roceit Rating: E

This bit is heavily inspired by angelsdemonsducks wonderful fic  this cup of yours tastes holy (this lie is dead). Seriously, it’s so lovely. It’s Loceit and I absolutely fell in love with that cool af court scene they wrote and I had do try do my own.

Roman is waiting impatiently for the return of his most trusted advisor and diplomat to return for the Christmas festivities at Sanders Castle.

“Are his chambers prepared?” Roman asked while he was signing the last documents on his desk. 

“Yes, Your Majesty, everything is arranged for My Lord to return tonight.”

Roman dismissed his butler with an appreciative nod. Once alone he rolled his shoulders trying to get out some tension. It had been trying weeks leading up to this day. A war avoided by hair's  breadth. A marriage evaded once again. A new ally secured somehow in all of this chaos.

And all thanks to the one man he finally, finally would be seeing again tonight.

Only weeks ago he had thought he would be on a battlefield by tonight and then everything had turned around. In their euphoria the whole palace had managed to organize for the traditional Christmas festivities to be even grander than the years prior in such a short time span.

Roman still felt equal parts elated and exhausted. And he was very glad that the year was over. Not just for the sake of it being spiked with political conflict left and right that had now quieted down. But also because a whole year was a torture device like he hadn’t thought possible.

Hours later, the sun long down had the great hall bustling with noise, chatter and clatter. Guests and inhabitants of the castle filled the hall, eating and generally utterly relieved and relaxed.

Roman almost missed when the door of the side entrance to the hall opened for just a second and a tall figure walked in silently, cloak all glittery white and heavy with snow. He was actually holding his breath when the other took off his hood. He looked just as delectable as Roman remembered him. He couldn’t believe it had been a year of only letters. No one besides him seemed to be aware of his most appreciated confidant.

He smiled that vague little smile Roman loved so much, then respectfully implied a bow, and Roman loved that he couldn’t tell if the gesture was genuine or mocking. Then he turned and searched for a place on one of the banquet tables. His own attention was demanded once again by the nobles sharing his table and he lost sight of his evasive diplomat.

Once the feast was over and everyone was going about their business, searching out acquaintances to exchange well-wishes and bask together in the moment that well and truly meant that a war had been evaded, that had looked inevitable up until the last second.

Janus finally approached him, the same tiny smirk on his lips. He himself had retreated to the fireplace at the far end of the hall, as far away from the music and the mingling as possible, desperately hoping he would at least get to talk to Jan with a modicum of privacy. His heart was racing with the anticipation to have him back, to have him close again.

“Good evening, Your Grace.” Janus greeted pleasantly, his voice a lovely, low hum. And his  pretty, dark eyes burning into his when he knelt to kiss his liege’s ring.

Of course this was the exact expected behaviour to display at court when one was confronted with one's king.

Of course Janus let his lips drag over his fingers. Roman wanted to rail him. His fingers twitched imperceptible as Janus stood, graceful and looking as unaffected as one would expect. Roman knew him better.

“Excuse me, Your Grace, I don’t want to hold you up. I’m sure there are a lot of people that want to talk to you tonight.” And he vanishes. Leaving Roman a little shell-shocked, and aroused to make pleasant conversation with anyone but him for the rest of the evening.

He bristles, a little. But he also knows he’ll find a bath warm lover in his bed later. And he had seen the exhaustion in Jans eyes close up.

He wandered the hall dutiful, talking, making connections, letting folks see him while his mind stayed glued steadfastly to whatever he imagined Janus might do in this second. Getting rid of his cloak and armour? Unpacking? Delivering all important writs he brought to Romans study? Undressing? Slipping into the bathtub? Unwinding? Warmed up again after months cooling down?

Romans neck felt hot when he finally, finally excused himself from the festivities. He tried hard not to hurry, keeping his steps measured and even. Taking the time to send away the guards in front of his quarters before slipping in almost as silent as Janus probably had.

And there he was, half leaning over Romans massive desk to read a paper, clad only in one of Romans shirts, hair still damp and turning to him.

“Roman.”

He was with him in four large strides, cradling that sharp jaw to press a nearly desperate kiss to palish lips. It did not feel different at all, same fire answering, pressing back after just a second of hesitation, unsure if they were still the same. The were. They had to be or Roman was going to lose his mind.

"You've been away so long!" - "I apologize, Your Grace, I was trying to save your kingdom." Clearly mocking, this time. Mischievous eyes and upturned brow and perfect.

"You are not allowed to ever leave again!"

"As you wish, my king."

They both know it’s futile vow. Empty, in the grand picture of things of securing a reign and keeping peace. But it doesn’t matter right now. Not when they simultaneously open their lips for one another, tongues stroking softer than what their bodies suggest.

Roman crowds Janus slender, body against the desk. The fission thought of too slim, starved from months of malnourishment at a military camp, is gone with the first groan from that mouth and strong arms around his neck pulling him closer.

“Missed you…” Roman mumbled distractedly, but needing to say it nonetheless, “I can barely sleep without you by my side.”

It’s true. And not just in the romantic way of entwined, warm bodies but in the visceral protectiveness and loyalty that is his lover. Janus would die for him. Had killed for him. And felt no remorse.

The sound his confession gets out of Janus is an interesting mix of cooing and growling that makes his insides feel like molten lava. He’s so hard it hurts. Had been since that slick tongue had touched his fingers hours ago and he had half a mind of retaliation by shoving a few between increasingly pinker lips. Later.

“I need you..!” he gasps, kissed breathless.

“Yes, my king.” No jeer, no sarcasm, just the same need.

They stumble to the bed, unsteady but hastily, greedy for each other and shivering as they lose their clothes on the way over.

The tenderness that constricts Romans throat isn’t unexpected when Janus is under him, naked, and proves Romans earlier assessment right. There are also new scars, ones that he wants to ask about but not know about. Janus is shameless and he doesn’t care much for Romans sensibilities when it comes to himself and just reels him back in, kisses him breathless again. 

It’s messy and unrestrained. Everything they aren’t in the light of day, individually and together. It’s filthy and precious, slipping into that tight, oil-slick hole and, overcome by pleasure and relief Roman allows himself an “I love you…” 

Janus does not say it back. He never had and probably never would and Roman didn’t need him to. He reveled in the raw panting that was coming out of Jans mouth instead, eyes a little glassy, heady mix of pleasure and pain. It had been some time and Janus liked it that way. Liked to go about his tasks the next few days, still being able to feel Roman, even when they would be too busy to get into and under each other's skin again.

It took not more than these thoughts and the incredibly tight glide to push them both over the edge far sooner than either would have liked.

And in the aftermath it was all too easy to be lulled to sleep by the smell and breathing of Janus, bodies still tangled. They should talk. There was so much to talk about. But Roman had meant that he never was able to sleep as he would have liked to, as he could with Janus stretched out next to him.

[livesincerely]

I’m very sorry for all of the asks Madam Sincerely, but I’ve just recently gone on a binge of all of your fics, and I don’t think there’s any more questions on the ask game, so can I ask here: Do you have any ideas on future works that you haven’t started writing yet? If so, can we hear some? I was scrolling back through your tumblr to cheer myself up yesterday (my country’s gone back into lockdown) and saw you mentioned a few ideas, like the one in the SubDavey ask? Sorry, just curious <3

No need to be sorry, the asks are lovely! I’m sorry to hear that things have shut down where you are, I’m sure that’s incredibly difficult. Sending all the positivity your way 💕💜✨⭐️💕💜

The Domestic au is the QUEEN of inspiring random story ideas and dangling plot threads. There’s several floating around in the domestic au/ideas for later tags but if I was going to narrow it down to a handful of ideas that have a good chance of existing in the near-ish future, then I’d say 1) the Jack and Davey preparing for college fic 2) the Davey picking Race & Charlie up from the elementary school because Jack’s sick fic 3) the Race and Charlie needing a cuddle pile fic and 4) the bedsharing fic where Jack is struggling under the pressure of fighting for custody and needs some comfort.

I’m just in the mood for some stuff set in the high school/college era of that au, probably because ‘it’s beginning to look a lot like...’ has got me in the mindset. All of these would be one shots, just showing more landmarks in the boys’ history since ‘it’s so easy (too easy) to love you’ sort of just drops you right into the ocean as far as circumstances lol. And also, there’s a lot of family building that goes on before Jack and Davey get together that I’m very interested in exploring! I think Race describes it as ‘eight years of waiting for Jack and Davey to get their shit together?’ Yeah. So definitely lots of domestic au in the upcoming year.

I’ve talked the tiniest bit about ‘there’s you and me (and everyone else)’ and ‘a few letters off’ but after doing the first bits & bobs for each of them, I got distracted by other projects as I so often do, 😅 so I’ll talk about them here. Actually, I’m not even sure if these had working title ideas last time I mentioned them here, it’s been that long lol.

Anyway, these two fics are very similar, but just different enough to need separate fics. The first is a modern, high school au that features different examples of Jack and Davey being the accidental co-parents of their friend group while obliviously pining for each other. I’m thinking it will be individual scenes tied together by the theme; I’ll put the original idea post here and the bits & bobs here. Besides what I already talked about, I also think I want to include a scene where Albert and Crutchie are going on a first date (a pairing that is absolutely inspired by @agentsnickers, you’ve converted me) and they both separately approach Jack and Davey for advice on what to do/wear/etc. Like, a total ‘our-kids-on-their-first-date-get-the-camera’ type thing, plus Jack being an overprotective older brother and giving Charlie a curfew because he’s ridiculous.

“Be home by nine,” Jack says, a little surly. “Nine?” Davey asks, incredulous “They’re seventeen not seven. Eleven o’clock.” “I’m supposed to trust Albert with my baby brother at eleven o’clock?” Jack asks, scowling. “That’s just asking for trouble.” He says trouble in the sort of ominous tone other people reserve for imminent nuclear meltdown or battlefield heart surgery. “What do you think Albert’s gonna do, stick his hand down Crutchie’s pants the moment they walk out the door?” Davey says with a scoff. “It’s Albert.” “Ten-thirty,” Jack eventually offers. Davey nods, then looks back at Albert and Crutchie, who have been following this exchange like a tennis match and are both now a little pink in the face, and shrugs, trying to convey something like ‘pick your battles’. “Great!” Crutchie squeaks out, sounding absolutely mortified. “Great, ten-thirty it is, oh my god, Albert let’s go before theykeeptalking—“

Oh! And I want Davey to full name someone in the ultimate you-fucked-up-and-mom-is-pissed move. I even went and made full names for everyone just to be prepared 😊

Then, ‘a few letters off’ is the Jack-and-Davey’s-friends’-perspectives-on-the-nonsense-that-is-Javid fic. I’ve basically finished the Buttons scene, but I’m also hoping to include one each from the povs of Katherine, Crutchie, Racetrack, Spot, and Albert at minimum.

I’m thinking:

Katherine - catching Jack painting/drawing Davey while Jack tries to cover and deny

Spot - The aftermath of him and Jack getting into a fight with the DeLancey’s and him watching Davey fluttered worriedly around Jack, scolding him for being a reckless but still dabbing carefully at his injuries.

Racetrack - comes home to find Jack and Davey watching a movie, except that Jack’s fallen asleep halfway through, head in Davey’s lap, and Davey is adamant that Race doesn’t wake him.

Crutchie - watching Javid eating lunch together and noting how totally domestic it is: stealing food from each other’s plates, Jack gives Davey his extra fruit cup then swipes his milk carton and Davey doesn’t even say anything because it’s so routine, and how they’re able to move in and around each other effortlessly while eating and holding two separate conversations.

Albert - watching Jack and Davey flirt/bicker from the backseat on the drive to school.

And then some sort of culminating/getting together scene at the end.

There’s the infamous quarantine fic, which I waxed poetically about for all of two seconds and then never expanded on. (Here and here) The reason I haven’t done anything with it yet is because it will be a multi-chapter and between tie fic, take a shot fic, and now the domestic au holiday fic, I’m really at my limit for multi chapters at the mo’. But I do still want to do something with this once I finish tie fic and DAUHF, as take a shot knows no bounds and cannot be quantified by earthly means.

Then, as for the idea I mentioned in the sub!Davey post.... I think I’m going to be able to repurpose the general scenario/concept I was imagining for the final, E rated chapter of Tie Fic, so I don’t think the original idea will ever make it to a final cut. (I won’t say never because anything’s possible lol) But, I’m happy to put the bit I have here! Things don’t quite get E rated in this excerpt, but they’re definitely a solid M. This would’ve been an addition to the Tease series and I think this has been sitting in my drafts for almost as long as the letterman fic, and it hasn’t been edited in at least two years, so yeah 😅

00000

“I really wanted to work on my thesis proposal, that’s why I was in the library most of the day,” Davey says suddenly, pushing Jack down against the couch and straddling him, his voice light and conversational. “It was nice of you to check on me so often, though I’m sorry I wasn’t very good company. I was trying to stay focused, you know how it is.”

Davey looks at Jack expectantly, making it clear that he’s waiting for a response. Jack stares up at him, his expression equal parts confused, transfixed, and aroused. He swallows heavily, then nods.

“But I did warn you, didn’t I?” Davey continues, bracing himself with a hand on each of Jack’s shoulders, rolling their hips together as he presses closer. “That I had a lot of work to do? That this paper is really important to me and that I wanted to get a head start? That I really needed to focus and didn’t want to be distracted? I distinctly remember warning you about all of that.”

He nuzzles down the curve of Jack’s jaw, then nips at his neck. “But you didn’t listen,” he says against Jack’s pulse point. Davey smooths his hands down Jack’s chest, then back up to his throat, tugging at his collar. He unbuttons the first few buttons of his shirt.

“In fact, one could argue that you did the exact opposite of what I asked you to do,” Davey says, working his way slowly through the buttons on Jack’s shirt. “Trailing your fingers across my arm, rubbing a thumb across the nape of my neck, sneaking a hand up my shirt… I would call all of that distracting, wouldn’t you?” He finishes unbuttoning Jack’s shirt and pushes it off his shoulders, admiring his muscular chest.

Davey glances up sharply. “Answer me, Jack.”

Jack blinks himself out of his daze. “I-uh, what did you ask me?”

Davey leans forward. They’re so close that he can feel the warmth of Jack’s breath against his face. “I asked you,” he starts, wrapping his arms loosely around Jack’s neck, “whether you thought constantly caressing someone while they were trying to work would distract them.”

It takes Jack a long moment to respond. “Yeah.”

One of Davey’s hands trails up the back of Jack’s neck. “You agree that doing something like that would be impossibly flustering?” Davey asks in that same, unaffected voice—as if clarifying a statement for a news article—threading his fingers through Jack’s hair. “That it would thoroughly divert that person’s focus? That it would leave them feeling unbalanced, frustrated, and downright agitated?

He leans impossibly closer, so close that the barest tilt of his head would press their lips together. “That it would drive them so crazy that all they could think about was how desperately they needed to be fucked,” Davey growls out, and his voice low and rough.

“Christ, Davey,” Jack groans, his pupils blown wide. He leans up to kiss him, but Davey anticipates this and tugs sharply on his hair, holding him in place. “So, we’re in agreement?” Davey continues in his casual voice, letting go of the dark strands and pulling away slightly, ignoring Jack’s groan of disappointment, “that all of those actions would, in fact, be extremely distracting.”

He trails his hands lovingly across Jack’s shoulders and down his chest, his movements unhurried. He licks a hot stripe up Jack’s neck, then sucks hard at a spot just under his jaw.

“Considering both of these facts, I can only conclude that you were distracting me on purpose.” Davey presses a line of kisses along Jack’s collar bone, delighting in the moan that tears its way out of Jack’s throat. He scratches lightly at the tanned skin of Jack’s chest, then sucks a bruise just above his collarbone.

“Were you doing it on purpose, Jack?” he asks, then before Jack can answer, rolls his hips hard and slow against Jack’s, grinding their erections together. Jack’s hands spasm, then tighten, clenching hard against Davey’s sides. Davey continues his ministrations, circling his hips against Jack’s, teasing him with the friction. Then, just as Jack seems to catch on to Davey’s rhythm and starts to move with him, Davey stills. “Were you teasing me on purpose?”

Jack’s mouth opens and closes, his throat working furiously. “I-yeah.”

David hums in acknowledgment, then continues his slow perusal of his boyfriend’s chest. He nibbles lightly across his sternum, then draws the flat of his tongue across one of one Jack’s nipples. Jack arches into him but Davey pushes him back, using his leverage to hold Jack down against the couch cushions. He sits up, admiring the mess he’s made of Jack’s neck and torso.

Jack stares up at him, chest heaving, waiting for Davey’s next move.

....

Davey runs his hands down Jack’s stomach and between his hips, fingers brushing gently against the front of Jack’s jeans.

Jack lets out a guttural noise. “God, Davey, let me—“ he starts, one hand slipping back to kneed at Davey’s ass, the other inching towards Davey’s fly.

“No,” Davey says firmly, moving Jack’s hands back to his waist. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it?”

00000

That’s all that comes to mind at the moment! Oh, and the Brooklyn Davey AU idea, but I got a different ask about that, so I’ll just link it. (Here)

@saysflora

[ikonct95]

break up with your boyfriend i’m bored

Pairing: mafia boss! jaehyun x reader ft taeil x reader

Genre: jealousy 

Warnings: degrading words, explicit mentions of sex (speak wise) and a slap?

Word Count: 1288

A/N: so this is inspired by the many mafia!jaehyun fics and that one scene from gossip girl with chair. tip, imagine jaehyun the way he did on 190807 because he looked like sin on legs!

p.s, sorry for any spelling or grammar errors i didn’t proof read it.

»»————-　♡　————-««

Soft jazz music was playing in the grand gala. This year’s auction theme is 1920s in New York and guests must dress accordingly. As the girlfriend of the esteemed museum director, Moon Taeil, you had to strictly follow the rules. You were wearing a knee length red wine dress with black beadings. The dress had a modest v neck that is framed by sleeveless sleeves that shimmy with a sparkling fringe. Wanting to enjoy tonight’s theme fully, you decided to cut your hair a week ago so that it perfectly suited the flapper girl image. Your once waist length black hair is now a cute little bob that barely reached below your ears in an ‘s’ shaped wave and you completed off the look with a black headband with red rhinestones that shyly sparkled under the fluorescent lights

Taeil hadn’t stopped complimenting you all the way to the gala, a quick kiss here and a little touch there, it was starting off to a great night.

That is, however, until you spotted your ex-fiancé mingling with some of the auctioneers. Jung Jaehyun was your ex-fiancé of two years and is also one of the unofficially richest men in South Korea. Unofficially because he is also the famous mafia boss of NCT.

Avoiding him was easy. You immersed yourself mingling with Taeil’s acquaintances, the benefactors and the countless nameless auctioneers at the gala. But soon, Taeil had to excuse himself to make final check ups before the auction begins in less than an hour.

As you stood in front of the jazz band, fruity drink in hand, you felt a presence approach you from behind and you didn’t have to turn around to know who it was.

“Jung Jaehyun,” You said as a form of greeting, “What an unpleasant surprise.”

Jaehyun chuckled as he stood next to you, “Always a delight to meet you, Y/N.” his voice was as smooth as velvet.

You took a sip of your fruity drink as a way to steal a quick glance at your former lover. Jaehyun was a man who valued his appearance, not as a fashionista but as a man with prestige, with money and power. He was dressed in an all black suit, no tie in sight. His dark brown, almost black, hair was slicked to the side giving it a wet look. Jung Jaehyun has always been an attractive man.

“Although I am surprised to see you here.” Jaehyun spoke with genuine wonder as he turned to face you, “As I recall, you were never into the arts.”

You resisted the strong urge of rolling your eyes at him. The last time you’ve spoken or even seen Jaehyun was almost three years ago when you were twenty four years old and he a mere twenty two year old. Now, you are twenty seven years old and are a different woman.

“I’m here in support of my boyfriend, he’s the museum director that is in charge of some of the artworks being auctioned here tonight.” You didn’t mean for the smug smirk to stretch across your red painted lips but seeing Jaehyun’s eyebrows furrow just a little bit was worth it.

“Your boyfriend?”

You nodded as you took another sip of your almost empty fruity drink. The jazz band switching from a slightly fast paced and upbeat song to a slower, gentler one. “He’s the one in a green velvet suit.” You pointed your finger and Jaehyun followed it to see a brown haired man scurrying by the stage as he instructed for the staff to be as gentle as possible with some of the more delicate artifact.

“Him?” Jaehyun snorted, “You could do so much better.”

Insulted on behalf of your boyfriend, you glared at Jaehyun, “He’s a man you wish you could ever be.” and turned around to walk away from him and perhaps engage once more with the some of the auctioneers, just anything to get you away from Jung Jaehyun.

But a hand tightly gripped your wrist to halt you as an arm slithered its way across your waist and Jaehyun’s front pressed against your back, “Don’t be like that.” he chuckled, his warm breath tickled your ear which sent a delicious shiver down your spine. “I was just teasing.” He chuckled again, “I’m sure he’s a...great man.”

Blood boiled at the implications behind his words. But not wanting to cause a scene on one of the most important nights of Taeil’s career, you simply said, “He’s a wonderful man...very vigorous.” it didn’t take a genius to understand the innuendo hidden in your words. Which is probably why Jaehyun’s grip on your wrist tightened considerably.

“Oh, is he now?” The younger man asked as he pressed his nose into your hair, inhaling your scent slightly.

“Mmhmm.” You fought the urge of closing your eyes shut at the overwhelming sensation. It was embarrassing, really, that you were getting this worked up without Jaehyun really doing anything.

“What does he call you when you make love?” Jaehyun pecked your head. He let go of your wrist and instead, held your small hand in his bigger, rougher one and brought it up to rest it atop of your heart, “Where does he put his hands?”

A shaky gasp escaped through your lips as he dragged your entwined hands across your collarbones.

A strong shiver went down your spine as he dragged his lips from your neck all the way to your ear to whisper, “Does he know how loud you can scream if his tongue flicks your clitoris rapidly?” His hand then dropped yours and brought it to clutch your thighs tightly.

Jaehyun then nipped your ear, his breath fanning the now sensitive area, before whispering, “Does he know how much of a whore you really are?”

It happened quickly. One minute you were entranced by Jaehyun’s words and his sinful lips and the next, your left hand came in contact with his cheek. A sharp and resounding slap that had his head turned to the side from the impact.

Only a few of the attendants surrounding you reacted to the action. Thankfully, the jazz band continued playing as they did not want to bring any more attention to you.

Tears brimmed your eyes as you harshly glared at Jaehyun, who now had a bright red mark on his cheek, “How dare you.” You hissed through clenched teeth.

A wicked smirk stretched across his lips as he took in the ferocity burning in your eyes, “It’s true.” Jaehyun had the nerve to say, seeming unaffected by your slap.

“I’ve let you had your fun, Y/N, and I’ve had enough. It’s about time you come back home where you belong, with me.”

Before you could slap Jaehyun again, a hand grabbing your raised arm prevented you from doing so. Only this time, the hold was gentle and you quickly turned to come face to face with Taeil.

“Is everything alright, Y/N?” His outer demeanor looked calm but you’ve been dating him for a year and a half and you knew that he was trying to keep his cool. His eyes warily scanning Jaehyun.

“Everything’s fine.” Jaehyun rushed to reply in a sickeningly sweet voice before turning to face you, “It was good to see you, Y/N. We should meet again soon.” And with another smile, Jaehyun walked away with swagger in his steps.

Instantly, Taeil had you in his arms, “Are you okay?”

Taeil doesn’t know about Jaehyun, doesn’t know about your past life as the fiancé of a dangerous mafia boss. But he knows that whoever that man was that had been touching you was trouble. He had so many questions to ask but your quivering form in his arms prevented him from doing so.

“Take me home.”

[inyoursheets]

8 12 18!

Do you listen to music while you write? If so, share a song that’s been inspiring you lately.

i do, at least 90% of the time. you can blame hozier for the angsty turn warm water took. it started out so fluffy and then one night i listened to some of his music while the sun set and suddenly Feelings Happened and i changed it drastically.

Is there a trope you haven’t written yet but really want to?

hmmmmmm well i don’t have any i desperately wanna write – plenty i desperately wanna read tho. but maybe a good old-fashioned soulmates!AU???? i don’t wanna have a long wishlist of tropes to write bc im not good at balancing multiple WIPs and rn i really don’t wanna start something new, which i might do if i think about this question too much. but there are a lot of tropes that i love!

What is a line/scene you’re really proud of? Give us the DVD commentary for that scene.

uhhhhh well since im pretty proud of managing to write rhea, rio and beth having sex in a way that doesn’t feel too OOC to me, here’s a scene from the instigator with DVD commentary. 

Taking in the lines of her face, Beth feels giddy with relief. She can’t even begin to express how grateful she is they can have this, this inexplainable, twisted relationship that shouldn’t spark as many feelings deep down inside her as it does. God, she hasn’t had a relationship as difficult to navigate as this one since—

Oh.

Oh no.

so this sort of…….happened by accident? part of the dialogue i mean. part of this i had planned out – i wanted beth and rhea to talk about rio, i wanted to really dive into the complex relationship between beth and rhea and i wanted beth to feel some type of way about rhea and rio, but it wasn’t until later that i realized how easily i could draw a parallel between beth and rhea and beth and rio, which is how this line happened.

“You and him… What are you exactly?”

She looks over her shoulder, up at Rhea’s face. Rhea scoffs, but she smiles down at her, knowing immediately who she’s talking about.

“We’re parents. We’re exes. It’s not that complicated. Unlike you and him.”

Beth grimaces.

“Don’t remind me.”

She leans back against her legs, closing her eyes after taking another sip of the brown liquid Rhea often complains appalls her senses. She’s always quick to pipe back about Rhea’s penchant for rosé, but more often than not she gets reminded of how she brought the first bottle, making her the instigator.

Isn’t that what she always is? The instigator?

roll credits! i think i had the title in mind/was mulling it over and then this line just fit perfectly here, really demonstrating how i view the relationship between beth, rhea, and rio in this fic.

She wants to ask so much more. How often do they see each other? How often do they talk? How well does she know him? Does she like him, or does she simply tolerate him, as the father of her child? Still, the first question that makes it out of her mouth doesn’t revolve around that at all.

“What’s the last time you two…” Her voice trails off, as it should. Dear God, what is she thinking?

“What, fucked?” She can hear the smile in Rhea’s voice. “What’s it to you?” Beth’s cheeks redden quickly.

so in order to get from point a to point threesome, as the prompter put it, i needed to get sex on the table. in a way this is a ridiculous question to ask, but i also think this is the easiest one to voice out loud out of the others going through beth’s head at this point.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure there are miles and miles between our entanglements with Chris.” She’s not sure what that was supposed to reassure either of them of. Or if it’s intentional, how loaded the words sound. She swallows.

“When was the last time? What was it like, I mean.” She can’t help herself. She just has to know.

“Aren’t you full of questions?” Rhea nudges a knee against her, then sighs. “Hmm, I think it was Marcus’ fifth birthday party. We’d been split up for a good while at that point, and we were good, but we were feeling sentimental. A little drunk, too, and it just felt natural, to go there.”

She’s quiet for a moment.

“It felt good, you know? Familiar. Like catching up with an old friend, one you once knew like the back of your hand.”

She sounds a little wistful, like the thought of seeking out that familiarity again has crossed her mind more than once. It makes Beth tense up unwillingly, the creeping sense that she doesn’t know this man she’s been complicatedly entangled with for what feels like a lifetime as well as she thinks she does, as she hopes she does, clouding her mind.

so i know a lot of readers can feel a sense of….. threat, maybe, whenever rio is paired w/ anyone but beth. ive got a lot of theories about why that is and i understand that instinct, as much as i wanna hush it myself, personally. but i really don’t wanna portray rhea as….completely unaffecting rio? i don’t want to write a fic where the man is the prize, the one whose approval other characters try to win the most. so i didn’t wanna write rhea as still harboring feelings for him, but at the same time i do really envision them as having a sense of comradery, of friendship and familiarity, and i think that would extent to sex. 

i wanted beth to feel left out of what rhea and rio have, but at the same time make it clear that what rhea and rio have versus what beth and rio have versus what rhea and beth have are very different things and they’re almost incomparable. like, rhea and rio have history and friendship and trust in a way that beth lacks with both of them – something i also tried to convey when they actually get down and dirty, but as rhea says herself before, they’re exes, they’re parents, it’s not that complicated. what they feel for each other isn’t complicated, unlike what rhea feels for beth, unlike what beth feels for rhea, unlike what beth and rio feel for each other.

Rhea studies her face, her silence. “What’s it to you?” she repeats, voice not unkind. Beth shrugs.

“I’m just trying to understand, I guess. Make sense of him.”

“Good luck with that,” Rhea snorts, knocking back her glass of wine in one go. And just with that, the clouds dissipate, the sun back into view.

with all that i said before in mind – i also didn’t want beth to actually be threatened by rhea and rio’s relationship. it's fine for her to feel threatened – that’s actually fun to write and came in handy later, also in part two – but i wanted to make sure beth and rhea aren’t in some sort of competition for rio – which is why i literally made the clouds dissipate here. if anything, i wanted rio and rhea to be in competition, which, in a way they actually are in this fic! but again as i said before, the different relationships between the characters really aren’t all that comparable, so there is no real competition, not in any ‘direction’. 

i really enjoyed diving into the different relationships and i wanted to give all of them their own appeal. i think what rhea and beth have is something unique and fascinating, something rio can’t touch or fulfill, just like beth can’t ever have with rio what rhea and rio have, exactly, just like rhea isn’t what rio is for beth. im trying to dive into that even more in the second part, also considering what the prompter asked (rio and beth confronting their feelings the day after), meaning there is brio endgame. but……i love beth and rhea together too much to just completely upend everything i built for them, so…………….. as my fic notes say, marcus, baby, you have some parenting throuple action in your future.

thank you so much for asking and letting me ramble!!!!  

fic bts questions

[satorisa]

in which Risa gets blindsided, twice, and decides to go with the flow for as long as it will have her.

inspired by this fic by @carebearos

...

Risa stands in front of the Starbucks by the station, checking her phone as the appointed time draws near. She had arrived thirty minutes early,  punctuality driven by the sheer insanity of the situation, dressed in an outfit she would almost wear to see Dark.

She must be out of her mind.

Satoshi invited her out for coffee before the long-awaited weekend, and she said yes without any hesitation. Had he asked before she attempted to treat him for the strawberry milk, she most certainly would’ve declined. But she was intrigued by the Satoshi who joked around, smiling and sarcastic, in those empty hallways after school in front of the vending machine.

Her curiosity might be the end of her, she internally grumbles, as she checks her phone again to see the time. Not even a minute has passed, and she groans before tucking her hands behind her back while she bounces in place. She can’t control the anxiety flowing through her body even though she knows that anyone who would make a big deal about this was busy and as far away from the scene of the crime as possible.

Ding!

She swings her phone back to her face to see a text message from Ritsuko with a selfie of her and some of their classmates. Someone had invited the class out on a whim before the last bell rang, literally right after she made plans with Satoshi, and so those who accepted are taking a day trip away from their small town. Takeshi’s right in the center with Ritsuko, hogging all the attention as usual, and Riku and Daisuke are in the corner of the picture, awkwardly smiling as if Ritsuko had caught them at a bad time.

Bless her best friend for giving her the DaiRiku content that fuels her life.

Risa’s about to reply to Ritsuko’s follow up message about missing her, but her phone rings again. When she sees a message from Satoshi saying he’ll be running a little late, she nearly drops her phone.

Somehow, in the span of an evening, she had completely forgotten that they had exchanged numbers after they confirmed their plans. And this friendly reminder nearly sent her into cardiac arrest.

She might actually die today.

And so, she goes back to jittering in place, garnering attention from passersby as she tries to mentally escape the situation that she’s in.

“Harada.”

The calm, monotonous voice snaps her back into reality. Satoshi now stands in front of her, his hair still damp, wearing a surprisingly snappy ensemble that somehow matches her own outfit.

She’s ready to eat her own foot.

“Sorry I’m late. Something had come up and—”

“There’s no need to apologize; stuff happens.” She smiles, mentally wondering what she’s channeling to be outwardly calm when she’s inwardly screaming. “Come on! Let’s go!”

The smell of coffee hits her when she walks in, and they fall into the short line in front of the cash register.

“What do you want?”

“Um…”

She looks up at the menu, mentally reeling at all the coffee choices. Matcha’s not too appetizing to her either, even if it is blended with enough sugar and cream to last her a lifetime, and she’s feeling lukewarm about everything else on the menu. Risa only ever goes to coffee shops when she’s out with her parents; she’d rather have bubble tea more than anything if she’s going out.

“I can order something for you if you’re having trouble deciding.”

“With your taste buds? No thank you.”

“I’m not going to order you coffee or anything like that. Starbucks just came out with their spring menu, so they have a cherry blossom cream frappucino—”

“That. I want that.”

Satoshi stifles a laugh behind his hand, but she can still see the upturned ends of his lips. She pouts. He’s not allowed to be amused at her predictability.

She digs into her purse to fetch her wallet. “Lemme know how much it is so that—”

“No need, Harada.”

The line moves, and they’re at the register. Satoshi orders and pays for their drinks before she can pay for herself.

“Today is my treat.”

She’s a little confused as to why he invited her out for no reason and decided to pay for—oh my god. Risa glances at Satoshi’s outfit, noting that it’s nicer than the time she’s seen him in casual wear, before looking down at her own outfit.

Oh. My. God.

…is this a date?!

How could she unknowingly go on a date with Satoshi? How could he even ask her on one when he knows that her heart belongs to Dark? Does she—

“Harada, this isn’t a date.”

She stops her mental deliberations before shooting Satoshi a concerned look.

Is he reading her mind or something?

“I just thought you’d like the frappucino is all. Please don’t overthink this.”

“Then why are you treating me?”

He shrugs. “I figured going to Starbucks with me was the last thing you’d want to do on the weekend, so it’s just a small gesture for your time.”

Risa smiles. “I really don’t want to keep being indebted to you, Hiwatari-kun.”

Satoshi smirks. “Just accept it and let it go, Harada.”

They sit in a table along the glass-lined wall of the store. Satoshi doesn’t say anything, quickly busying himself with his phone, so Risa looks outside, watching the bustling street until she sees him put his phone away in her peripheries.

“I have a question for you, Hiwatari-kun.”

“Shoot.”

“Do you actually like black coffee?”

He chuckles. “I do. You can only really discern the taste of the bean when it’s black.”

“So…you’d rather sacrifice sleep for coffee?”

Satoshi tilts his head down and attempts to cover the growing grin with his mouth. He fails, simply because he’s finding this amusing for some unknown reason, and eventually composes himself decently enough to still reply.

That stupid smile is still on his face, though.

“As much as I stay up, I, too, enjoy sleep like everyone else.”

“But isn’t black coffee just…black coffee?”

“The beans and how it’s brewed are important. If I’m craving some good coffee, I’ll grind the beans I have at home and make myself a cup of pour over. If I need to stay up, I’ll just have whatever I can get. After all, the only way to get through a shitty day is with a shitty, bitter cup of coffee.”

Risa blinks, trying to process what he had just said. Did he just—

The barista calls their order before she can even respond to what just occurred. Satoshi gets out of his seat and returns to their table, placing her drink in front of her while he sits down, already sipping on his americano.

“…who are you and what have you done with the Hiwatari-kun I know?”

The unrestrained joy that she’s seen thus far dissipates when she sees the far-off look in his eyes. Just like before, he’s receding away, just like a dream on the cusp of awakening.

For whatever reason, he invited her out today. And perhaps today, only today, is he allowing himself to let down those walls that she’s so familiar with. Risa doesn’t know what to think of the Satoshi in front of her, casually chatting about himself and joking around like they’re good friends, but she at least knows that she likes it.

As strange as everything is, she’ll play along with it just this once.

“This is where you’re supposed to laugh, you know, and not stare off into space as if you’re having an existential crisis.”

“But who doesn’t have a daily existential crisis?”

Risa laughs before sipping her drink, enjoying the sugar and milk that’s sure to lull her into an afternoon nap when she gets home. It’s the perfect thing to chime in the spring season, and she makes a mental note to drop by a corner store on the way back to see whatever seasonal items she can ration until next spring.

“How is it?” Satoshi asks.

“Good! Do you want to try?”

“I’m fine, thank you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. One sip of that will give me a headache.” He sighs. “I don’t understand how you can drink that.”

“Because I’m here to enjoy life. That—” She points to the iced americano in his hand. “—is no fun.”

“It’s fun enough for me.”

“You’re boring.”

He smiles, a small smile, but it’s genuine. “Maybe I am, but I’m content all the same.”

Risa doesn’t quite remember what follows that. Perhaps she was so hung up over how calm and comfortable he was in that moment that it lingered, like a footprint on the sand, on her mind. Either that or all their smiling and laughing had blurred together and overwrote the moments in between.

By the time their conversation had ended, the sun had already set. She remembers almost inviting him out to dinner to prolong this precious moment, but she stopped when she glanced at the messages on her phone. Ritsuko and Riku were already on their way back; it was far too risky for them to be together any longer.

And when they walked out of the Starbucks into the cool, evening air, they unceremoniously said their goodbyes before heading their separate ways.

…

When she arrives at school Monday morning, it’s just like any other morning. She walks into the classroom and settles down into her seat, taking out her things for the first class of the day before hanging her bag on the side of the desk.

Ritsuko’s not there yet, and Riku’s still at lacrosse practice, so she takes out her phone, ready to check her social media when the door opens.

She looks up to see Satoshi walking into the classroom, hair slightly tussled, clothes slightly wrinkled, with that unaffected expression on his face. Their eyes meet, just for a second, but he doesn’t acknowledge her. He stares past her before heading to his seat, acting as if nothing happened.

As if they have no relationship. As if they’re back to what they were before.

With that, her dream ends, and she wakes up in the cold truth of reality.

[loudlooks]

Close Shave

Is Tiva Fic Amnesty still a thing now that Ziva’s officially back? BTW, I’m totally ignoring the “not every fic needs to be published” rule here, consider that a warning.

I don’t remember what time frame I pictured this in, maybe season 5 or 6? As usual, no plot. Loosely inspired by a scene from The X-files (which unfortunately wasn’t even MSR, except in my imagination).

Also on FF and AO3

Word count: 1805

A yank on the drawer handle revealed his electric shaver. Grabbing it with one hand, rubbing the scruff on his chin with the other, he looked up just in time to see Ziva roll her eyes.

“What?”

“Imagine if I shaved my legs at my desk,” she replied testily.

He raised an eyebrow and grinned widely, only mildly disappointed he hadn’t come up with that image before. “Nobody would get any work done,” he said as his eyes wandered to where her legs were hidden behind the cold, hard metal of her desk.

She turned towards her computer screen, but he caught the corners of her lips twitch ever so slightly.

“Think of the cleaning crew, Tony,” she said flatly.

Ignoring her comment, he tried to remember what her bare legs looked like while hitting the power button on his shaver. Silence greeted him and he pushed the switch once more.

Nothing.

Resisting the urge to smack it on the side of his desk, he muttered, “Damn it, I charged you yesterday.”

Turning the electric razor over and over in his hand, vigorously  pressing the button a few more times—surely it will work this time—he looked up when Gibbs dumped two items on his desk before heading to the elevator.

He picked up Gibbs’ straight razor and opened it carefully. As the blade glinted in the fluorescent light overhead, he met Ziva’s eyes across the bullpen, and deadpanned, “I think the boss wants me dead.”

She was beside him in a flash, admiring the lethal piece of steel with an eager smile. “I have not used one of those in years.”

“Why did you use a…” He stood up, pushing images of slit throats and blood stains to the back of his mind. “You know what, I don’t wanna know.” He grabbed the shaving gel and pointed it at her. “If I’m not back in ten, call Ducky and tell him to bring a body bag.”

He tried to walk around her, but Ziva stopped him with a finger to his chest. “I am very good with knives, I could give you a shave.”

Staring down at her smiling face, he raised an eyebrow. The gleam in her eyes both worried and excited him. He bit down a smile as angry hornets seemed to take up residence in his stomach.

“Someone’s an eager beaver.” He regretted the words as soon as they left his lips, images of her strong tan legs, and a skimpy bikini bottom flashed to the forefront of his mind.

She tilted her head and narrowed her eyes, it only made him want to stay in her personal space even longer. Accepting her offer would achieve just that. “Fine,” he said with a calmness he didn’t feel.

Her smile turned mischievous and his brain to mush; he’d always had a soft spot for her dangerous side. It haunted him in his dreams, and occasionally his nightmares.

She grabbed a small towel from her backpack, and almost speed-walked towards the men’s room. He followed her like a puppy—who’s the eager beaver now—his gaze focused on the sway of her hips.

The way she barged into the men’s room like she owned the place sent a tingle down his spine. She kind of did, he supposed, other agents always scattered like roaches afraid of the light when she walked in there.

“This isn’t going to be perfect,” Ziva said as she dumped the towel next to the sink, turned on the hot water tap, then grabbed a stack of paper towels from the dispenser. “But it will be fun.” Her gaze flicked down his body, briefly landing on his lips on the way up.

His smile wavered, then he grimaced into the mirror and rubbed his hands over his cheeks. “I don’t want to end up like Leatherface.” He ignored her look of confusion—as well as the disappointment in himself for once again skirting around their obvious physical attraction—and continued, “Isn’t it ironic that I trust you more with a razor sharp blade against my throat than behind the wheel of a car.”

She roughly pushed him aside with her hip, stepped in front of the sink and glared at his reflection. He patted his cheeks again, making sure that laser sharp look hadn’t rendered a shave unnecessary.

After soaking the towel with hot running water and wringing it out, she handed it to him, and told him to cover his face. He briefly complained about how ridiculously elaborate she was making things, but complied after she raised an eyebrow and tested the sharpness of the razor on a paper towel.

His face and ears warmed exponentially with each passing moment of awkward silence. “I feel like an idiot.” The towel covering his face only half responsible for his mixed feelings.

“Good.”

The hint of amusement in her voice was barely audible, but enough to release the tightness that had settled around his heart. A second later, Ziva pulled the towel away, made room next to the sink and easily lifted herself onto the countertop. As soon as she grabbed hold of his tie, pulling him in between her legs, any sense of awkwardness evaporated. He scanned her face intently, looking—hoping—for...for what exactly? The lingering smell of her shampoo heightened his senses, and he wondered, not for the first time, when she had started getting under his skin quite like this.

Ziva seemed unaffected, preoccupied with lathering up shaving gel in the palms of her hands.

Clinging to the belief that he had gotten better at reading her than even Gibbs, he hoped for a look, he’d settle for a glance—one of those furtive, yet exposed glances she sometimes sent him when she thought he wasn’t paying attention.

And there it was, so fleeting he would’ve missed it if he hadn’t been fixated on her every move. Unaware, her gaze immediately followed what her hands were doing—spreading the gel evenly all over his two-day stubble.

Emboldened by the evanescent look, he smiled faintly and placed his hands on either side of her legs. She narrowed her eyes at a spot close to his ear, fussing with the gel too long for it to be anything other than a distraction.

“Stop smiling,” she said quietly.

His smile widened, she briefly closed her eyes, then met his. “Tony.”

It never seized to amaze him how much she could say with just one word, his name. Not quite an admonishment, more of an acknowledgement, a “not now, but maybe later”.

She held the razor up, and he knew she was right; there wasn’t time to get into any of this now, he had to be clean-shaven and dressed to the nines in half an hour. Why was their timing always off?

He sighed and relaxed his face so she could get to work.

Pulling the skin taut with one hand, she placed the edge of the cold blade against his cheek with the other. “I haven’t done this in a while.”

His eyes flashed to hers. Was she talking about the shaving or that thing between them that they weren’t talking about? The mischievous grin appeared again, only this time it annoyed him more than anything else. He was tired of maintaining the status quo, evading his feelings with humor and banter.

As she moved the blade downwards in slow, even strokes that he could barely feel, he considered the possibility of having read her wrong. Maybe their physical closeness, the intimacy of trusting her to run a blade over his face and throat, had clouded his judgement.

“How attached are you to your sideburns?” She wasn’t even trying to hide the teasing in her voice.

His skin tingled as sweat began to form, frustration building as feelings of doubt settled deep down inside. “Can you stop joking.”

She looked at him with raised eyebrows. “That’s rich coming from you.”

“Hey, I joke to deflect.” Ziva narrowed her eyes. “And, occasionally out of boredom,” he conceded.

She lowered her hands, busied them with cleaning the blade, then looked at him decisively. “I know.” Inhaling deeply, she placed to razor on his other cheek. “Let us  just get this over with.”

Did she mean the shave, or the conversation they had been avoiding for years?

Her hands moved expertly over his face as his drifted to her thighs on their own volition. She stilled her movements, a beat passed before her gaze met his. Open and exposed she bit her bottom lip, then got back to work.

He didn’t dare move his hands until she rinsed the blade and carefully placed it aside. His fingers squeezed gently, feeling the strong muscle underneath the rough denim as she held his gaze.

She dabbed his face clean with wet paper towels, avoiding his gaze again, a myriad of emotions  washing over her eyes, eventually settling on fear.

“It will be dangerous,’ she said gravely.

It took him a moment to realize she was talking about the undercover op, not them. He grinned and squeezed her thighs reassuringly. “You’ll have my back.”

Shaking her head vigorously, she said, “No, Tony, I will be in the van down the road, it could take minutes before I…”

Smoothing her fingers over his cheeks,  her thumbs briefly caressed his lips and she made eye contact.

He smiled gently. “I’ll be careful, I’m gonna want another shave like this.”

She released a breath, fear fading from her eyes as she leaned in closer. Her lips touched his tentatively at first, then firmly. Claiming him, giving him a reason to be extra careful.

The sound of the door handle barely registered in his mind, and was swiftly followed by Ziva’s warm hands on his chest, pushing him backwards as she slid of the countertop, turned and smoothly wiped up some spilled water with a paper towel.

From the corner of his eye he saw the door open and a familiar figure walk in. Briefly looking at Ziva in the mirror, he noticed a light blush on her cheeks.

“Oh, hey, boss,” he said lightly.

Gibbs looked at him with scrutiny, then a gave a small nod. “Nice job, Ziver.”

She turned around, blush gone, that mischievous look that always stirred up the hornets’ nest in his stomach firmly in place. Smiling smugly, she looked from him to Gibbs, and said, “It’s not every day I have the opportunity to put I knife so close to DiNozzo’s throat.”

Gibbs smirked and walked past them without a second glance.

Feeling overly confident he winked at Ziva before quickly gathering his things, and catching up to her at the door. He glanced back at Gibbs, then opened the door for Ziva and whispered, “That was a really close shave.”

[taesthetes]

Hello! I reread tuou today after a while... and I don’t think there r words to explain how I felt once again. Just a wave of emotions every time I read it... and it’s just incredible how 21k words and a superb ability to write can make a person feel. I wish I could convey how I feel to u bc I feel like u truly deserve so much recognition and love beyond being a writer on tumblr. But on a different note, when u write, do u feel the emotions that ur readers do? I’ve never written something (1/?)

and felt like sad or happy bc of the story… sry if my question is confusing. Like if u write angst, do u also feel the heart wrench or r u just like nah whatever I expected it? Thank I for always being so kind when answering all of ur asks. I’ve seen some pretty talented yet rude writers out there, but u seem to genuinely adore every compliment and ask u get. I always feel comfortable talking to u :) Oh yeah, and one more question. What writing platform do u use to write? I’ve always (2/3)

(I forgot what I wrote previously) I always use docs , but it feels too much like a school assignment when I do that. What I’m writing on and the visual aspect matter a lot to me, so just thought I’d ask u about it bc ur my favorite writer on here. Sry the ask is all over the place! Again, thank u for being kind and inspiring me w ur stories. I hope u have the most amazing rest of the day, pick up a twenty dollar bill, get 10 hours of sleep, meet an old friend, and take care of urself !!

hello, honey bee! you are truly making my night with this, oh my gosh, thank you for reading my fic! i’m so so grateful that you read it already but then you decided to read it again? you are incredible, and i don’t deserve such a lovely reader 💗💗 aslkdjfhlasdj it’s my goal to be able to actually make people feel something with my writing, so hearing this from you means the absolute world to me. also, “superb ability to write” and here i am, being a crying and blubbering mess all over again :’) i’m going to put the rest of my answer under the cut because it got long oops

ah, can you believe that nearly a year ago from today, i was writing tuou? it all started because of some silly dreams i had and me wanting to procrastinate on studying for my final exams, even up until the last hour before my exams started. and now, it’s almost one year old!! but also, this message is more than enough, and honestly, i wish i knew how to convey to you just how thankful i am to receive such thoughtful and kind words 💞 my heart is bursting with so much happiness right now 💓💓

as for your first question, there are scenes that when i write, i’m like, “oh my god, that’s so corny….. let’s keep it.” other than that, i don’t really feel much when i’m writing, unless i’m writing for tae. with tae, i get really upset when i have to write him with a sad scene or something where he isn’t happy. on the other hand, i am unaffected when i’m writing about other members. i don’t feel the heart wrench when i write angst because yep, i’m just like “nah whatever i expected it.” unless, of course, it’s for tae, and i was completely torn over this fic i wrote called saudade. i wanted to scrap it because the entire angst plot comes to life because of taehyung’s death (wow, the irony in this sentence). 

with tuou, after writing it halfway through, i realized it seemed like the oc was cheating on tae with jungkook, so i was about to trash it or change taehyung’s character to jimin. but in the end, my friends convinced me to continue writing and keep it the way it is because they thought taehyung fitted it best. (this is also why taehyung gets the happier ending at the end because i can’t stand to see him sad)

and no worries, your question isn’t confusing at all! and omg you write stories, too? what kind of stories do you write? what’s your favorite genre? :D and thank you for thinking so 💝 i love every ask i receive because it’s so wonderful to know that someone thought of me and my blog and actually took some time out of their busy day to tell me so. and it’s only fair that i dedicate my own time too and fully show my appreciation!! ah, i think some writers might be more introverted than i am. i understand that there are people who just aren’t comfortable with showing their emotions and have a harder time expressing themselves, so their responses may seem a bit off putting? nevertheless, i’m very happy that you feel comfortable talking to me!! 💞💞

in response to your second question, i feel the same way as you do about docs! i only use google docs for group projects or partner work for school. i did use google docs for the collabs i did though since it’s so much easier than emailing back and forth all the scenes and parts. but primarily, i like using microsoft word for writing! but i often find myself writing at 3 am in bed or when i’m walking to and from class, and i type it all out on my phone in a saved email draft. it’s so much easier for me to transfer my writing onto my laptop that way because i just need to log into my email on my laptop and then copy and paste the email draft into microsoft word. what writing platform do you like to use? :D

paeyfaiushdflas you really just shot cupid’s arrow through my heart because favorite writer on here??? i must be on cloud nine, thank you so much 💘💘 and you don’t have to apologize!! your ask was perfectly cohesive and easy to understand :D thank you for sending me in the loveliest messages ever, and it’s an honor to give you inspiration omg!!! and thank you for your well wishes :’)

it was an amazing rest of the day because i was free after taking a final today (well, free until my next three finals next week) and i didn’t find $20 but i did find a dime and caught and leveled up a bunch of my pokemon ahah and i’ll be getting ten hours of sleep tonight!!! and finally, i have a break over the weekend from pulling allnighters to cram study for finals. and i actually met an old friend a few days ago askjdfhlas anyway, i hope you have an amazing day/night, sweetpea, and please take care of yourself, too! i hope you’ll have a good weekend / are having a good weekend! 🌷🌷

[greekowl87]

Fic: Supposed Ghost Stories

I found this image to inspire this fic and I couldn’t start my day until I finished it. I also love Tim Burton’s Sleepy Hollow, don’t you? Tagging @today-in-fic and @fictober .  Set season six before ‘How the Ghosts Stole Christmas.’ Ever wonder why Mulder stole Scully’s keys in that episode?

Happy Halloween :)

Mulder shivered in the car of their rental as Scully passed him a fresh cup of hot coffee in a thin paper cup. He forgot how cold New England Halloween's could be, even beneath his jeans, long sleeve shirt, and heavy leather jacket.

"Turn up the heat, Mulder," she murmured. "It is freezing in here."

Mulder adjusted the temperatures on the heat as Scully sighed and leaned back in the seat. She closed her eyes, shivering trying to imagine herself physically fighting off the fall cold before she opened her eyes and took in the scene before her. Near to full moon that lit up the sky and stars everywhere. The abandoned dirt road which their car sat on was surrounded by eerie moonlight and fog. Essentially, it was the makings of a horror movie, Scully thought.

"Why did I agree to do this?" she questioned after a moment before turning to look at him.

"What?" he asked innocently. He attempted to bury himself in his coat. "Graveyard hunting?"

"Yes. I do not specifically recall you mentioning the exact terms. I do, however, recall you saying to the effect of 'Scully, want to do a historic tour on Massachuttes?' when you asked me to come up here."

"What? We aren't on a case. As far as I am concerned it is just two friends enjoying Halloween. Ghost hunting. In graveyards."

"Do I need to remind you we have a bad track record of casual outing in New England? You and your cockroaches three years ago and me with that doll thing last year in Maine?" she questioned. "I thought maybe, I don't know, something like 'Hocus Pocus.'"

"Salem. You wanted to go to Salem and see the museum?"

"Not necessarily. But is in a town with stuff to do and not on some side of the road in the middle nowhere." She huffed her cheeks. "So where are we exactly, since you know, we might as well make the best of it."

He smiled. This is one of the things he loved about her. She would always come with him, no matter where obscure place he would go. He gently took her hands and squeezed it affectionately. Scully closed her eyes at the contact of the instant warmth that came from him, wishing for him not to let her hand go. "Well, just for the record, I do appreciate you following me up here. I just wanted to let you know that."

She gave a snort and a small smile. "You know it is just to ensure I save your ass again."

"Always, Scully." He released her hand. "Spooky tonight, isn't it?"

She chuckled and narrowed her eyes in thought. "Is that the best pick up line that you have, Mulder?"

"I got more of them." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. "But seriously, there used to be this old graveyard that Sam and I went to the Halloween before she was taken. It was one of those ghost tour things but I just can't seem to find it, honestly."

Scully gave a soft smile, touched. "Well, what other crazy Halloween traditions did you all have? I'll give you one of mine. When all of us were old enough to trick or treat, mom would make us do these group costumes. One year, we all were the Jetsons. Bill was George, Missy was Jane, I was June, and Charlie was Elroy." She chuckled in memory. "The wig I had to wear. Oh my god, I hated that thing. It was one of my grandmother's, I'm positive."

"Baby Scully as Judy Jetson," Mulder repeated disbelievingly.

"Mom has a picture. We can stop by at her home in Baltimore on the way back and I'll prove it."

"You have a deal," he laughed. "Sam and I never did anything like that but one time. She was three and I seven. I was Yogi Bear and she was Boo Boo. After that Halloween, I vowed to do my own costume every year. I've always loved Halloween though. That Halloween, I read her Washington's Irving "The Legend of Sleepy Hollow" and she wanted to go look for the headless horseman. So instead of going trick or treating, we went to a graveyard to look for it."

"But isn't it Sleepy Hollow technically in New York and not Massachuttes?"

"Very good," he smiled. "And yes but I wasn't going to ruin that for her. It actually is a Germanic myth that goes back to the middle ages. But Irving tale explains the Horseman was a Hessian mercenary from the Revolutionary War who had his head taken off by a cannonball."

"And did you find it?"

"No, but I scared her real good like a big brother is supposed to." His smile faded. "That was the last Halloween we spent together before she was taken."

A comfortable silence settled between them. Scully glanced at the clock on the dash. "What do you say we head back to the hotel, Mulder? It's one a.m. We can get some gas station grub and watch "The Blob" till sunrise."

"What? You don't want to see if any ghosts come a calling?" He was already turning the key on the car, restarting the idle engine back to life.

"I'm freezing, Mulder. My toes are ice cubes."

"I wanted to do something fun with you this year," he replied, "especially after last year."

The unspoken silence about the cancer.

"Well, unofficial ghost hunts may be fun, but what is, even more, fun is a warm hotel room and scary movies. Come on, Mulder."

Mulder switched the car into gear, gently easing off the gravel shoulder and back on the fog covered road. "It's a pity really. Tonight's weather makes a perfect atmosphere."

"I would rather watch a movie than experience it tonight. We're off the clock, remember?"

"Fine, fine," he conceded.

Mulder began to speed up slowly, wary of the fog and woods and the chance a stray deer barreling into their car. Scully leaned forward to switch on the radio on but frowned when all she could hear was static. "Hm. That's strange. We had a radio signal out here when we first arrived."

"Probably the weather."

As they drove cautiously along, with only the silence and the sound of the engine, hanging in between. But then the neigh of a horse that was loud, clear, and echoed otherworldly. Mulder glanced at Scully and slowed the car to a stop. "Do you think..."

"No. It is a ghost story, Mulder. That's all."

They heard the neigh again, closer and louder this time. She was the first to get out of the car, with her gun and flashlight in hand. "Scully!" he called as she slammed the car door and walked in front of the headlight purposefully.

Grabbing his own flashlight, he stood out in front of the headlights, shining his own flashlight out into the dark night. They heard a horse's neigh again. It was coming closer. Mulder's hairs were standing on end and, while it was highly likely it was nothing, he reached for his own gun. "It's probably a figment of my imagination."

"A figment that we're both hearing?"

Now they could hear galloping, the rhythmic noise of horseshoes cobbling the asphalt. "Mulder," she said cautiously. Her blue eyes darted to him. "This isn't funny. Stop joking around."

"Scully, this isn't me, I swear it."

As the galloping came closer, she raised her weapon. "Stop! I'm a federal officer!"

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "What good is that going to do?"

She flared her nostrils, smelling sulfur. What was burning? In a flash that blinded them, she saw the outline of a headless figure and a black horse. "The fuck..." Mulder began.

The headless figure swung a cavalry saber skillfully as the horse neighed loudly, standing on his hindquarters. Without thinking, Scully emptied her entire magazine into the figure which seemed unaffected by the hail of 9mm bullets from her sig.  Mulder grabbed her forearm forcefully and pushed her to the passenger side of the car. "Get in, Scully. Just get in!"

Not being needed to told twice, she rushed into the car as Mulder jumped into the driver's seat and slammed the gas. He maneuvered the car in quick j-turn as they sped the opposite way down the road. Scully kept looking behind her for the headless rider but saw nothing.

"Mulder," she breathed. "I think it's gone."

"I'm not going to stop driving until we're back at the hotel." He gritted his teeth. "I swear I had nothing to do with that. I honestly do think that was the horseman."

"Mulder that is a legend, a ghost story that is told on Halloween."

"Well, what was tonight?"

Scully arched an eyebrow. "Mulder, that is crazy. Just because it is Halloween..."

"Makes sense, Scully."

"I don't know what the hell we saw but it was not the headless horseman!"

"Suit yourself, but I'm not stopping until we get back to the hotel. Speaking of hotel, do you mind if I spend the night with you?"

"What? Ghost story scare you, Mulder," she teased. Truth be told, she was shaken up herself and thought it was a good idea. The look he gave her indicated he was completely serious. "Well, I suppose a sleepover and horror movie night might be doable."

"Well, then we better stop off and get some candy just to be safe," he said cautiously, easily navigating the heavy air still in between them.

"Yes," she agreed. After a moment, she spoke once more. "Mulder, the next time you ask me to go on a ghost hunt with you, you're going to have to steal my car keys in order to make me."

"I'll remember that, Scully," he answered, his thoughts already rolling in his head for what he could plan for her at Christmas.

[winterbaby89]

Dark Hook Comes to Storybrooke - Chapter Three

A Captain Swan, Season 1 Canon Divergence Collaboration by: @hollyethecurious, and @winterbaby89

Beta’d by: @ilovemesomekillianjones

Amazing Artwork by: @xhookswenchx

Rated M for language and dark themes (and maybe (probably) some sexy times… later ;o)

Summary: Moments before the Evil Queen’s Dark Curse whisks our beloved fairytale characters to Storybrooke, Captain Hook finally gets his revenge on the Crocodile. Twenty-eight years later, Killian Jones awakes in Storybrooke expecting just another ordinary day, that is until a number of abnormal occurrences disrupts his otherwise scheduled life. The greatest of which is a new face in town. A young woman by the name of Emma. Emma. What a lovely name…

Disclaimer: Canon dialogue and scenes from various episodes will appear within this fic. To Adam, Eddie, and the OUAT writers goes all the credit.

Line breaks indicate change in POV or Scene.

Also available on ao3, my fic page, and Hollye′s fic page And if you want to catch up on the last chapter. 

This work is no longer available on FF.net. Unfortunately the site does not allow authors to co-publish collaborative works.

Chapter Three

Regina’s car was already parked behind the abandoned pawn shop when Killian arrived. Windows obscured by curtains made it difficult for him to gauge whether or not she remained in the back room, or if she had moved through to the front of the store. Willing to risk his advantage, to catch her off guard, Killian made his way through the back door.

To his relief he found the back room empty, but could hear the shuffling sounds of movement coming from the showroom. Peaking through the curtain that separated the two spaces, his heart stopped as he saw the glint of metal and a familiar hilt being placed inside Regina’s purse. The slightly stunned and contemplative expression on her face confirmed to Killian that she had noted the name that now appeared upon its surface.

There was nothing for it, he’d have to confront her if he wanted to acquire the blade back. Slipping through the curtain, he took a moment’s enjoyment in seeing her startle when he cleared his throat. Quickly schooling her features to express her customary haughty condescension, Regina turned to address his intrusion.

“Mr. Jones, this is town property, what are you doing here?”

“Looking for something, as it would appear you are as well. So, how about we just cut to the chase and you give me what I came here for.”

“I have no idea to what you are referring, Mr. Jones.”

“Come now, Dearie.” Dearie? Where the bloody hell did that come from? Regina quirked an eyebrow at him as he continued. “Don’t be coy Regina, I know you’ve already found the dagger, and that you’ve seen whose name is now etched across it. My dagger, if you please,” he said as he flourishingly extended his hand towards her.

For a moment it looked as though Regina was going to outright refuse, but then her eyes widened and her face contorted with disbelief as she drew out the dagger from her purse and handed it over to him.

Curious.

“You’re awake?” Regina inquired incredulously. “And you’re The Dark One?”

“So it would seem,” Killian answered bitterly, his fingers tracing the letters of the name on the blade, willing it to change to any other than his own.

“How?”

“I gather that whoever kills The Dark One becomes cursed to carry the darkness upon themselves, as the new Dark One,” Killian explained.

“No, not that,” Regina dismissed. “I already knew that. I meant, how are you awake?”

Killian’s head snapped up as he fixed Regina with a cold stare.

“You knew?” he accused, his tone laced with a hushed menace that slipped through his clenched and ticking jaw as he advanced towards her.

“Of course I knew,” Regina confirmed, attempting to seem unaffected by his approach, even as her steps away from him faltered. “Do you really think I didn’t learn everything I could about that evil little imp?”

“And you let me pursue the Crocodile without ever mentioning a word as to the true cost of my vengeance?”

“You didn’t ask,” Regina sniped, gaining back some of her sass even in the face of his ire.

“Well, Your Majesty I have a few things I’d like answered now, and you’re going oblige me.”

Before Regina could respond, Killian gave in to the compulsion to add a please, and watched with growing interest as she seemed unable to refuse his request.

“What do you want to know?”

“My hand. Did I regain it because of your curse, or from the curse of being The Dark One?

“Your guess is as good as mine,” she answered flippantly, stoking Killian’s temper once more.

“What the bloody hell does that mean? It’s your curse, Regina!”

“I only enacted the curse, Hook.” He flinched slightly at her use of his once proud moniker. “I didn’t create it. Besides, you weren’t supposed to be included in it.” She added the last part as if it were an afterthought.

“What do you mean?”

“After you came back from Wonderland you said you had no need for my curse, so I took you out of it.” Her tone implied that she had done him a favor, only to reveal her true intentions behind such an action. “I’d planned to separate you from Rumple permanently. Deny you your precious revenge by leaving you behind, while The Dark One was vulnerable in this land.”

“But you left The Dark One written into the curse.” Killian clarified, understanding permeating his thoughts, explaining the inconsistencies he’d observed since he awoke.

“Yes.”

“So everything that you added into the curse that pertained to the Crocodile-”

“Must have transferred to you when you became The Dark One,” she finished.

After a moment’s reflection as the two of them fleshed out the meaning of such a revelation, Killian again brought forth his initial question.

“That doesn’t explain my hand, or why my tattoo is gone.”

“That’s probably an effect of the curse removing any physical attributes that could remind you of who you truly were, or would cause you to stand out in this land. Much like it changed the dwarves’ features and made the cricket human again.”

“Well, while I rather enjoy having my hand back, can you return my tattoo?” he asked quietly, bristling at the vulnerability he was exposing to her. In an effort to place them on equal footing in his moment of weakness, he added a pointed, “Please.”

“That shouldn’t still work,” she muttered angrily. “I made that deal with Rumple.”

“No, Dearie.” Damnit, Crocodile! Get out of my head! “You made that deal with The Dark One, not the coward it was possessing. Now about my tattoo?”

“I can’t put it back. Though, I’m sure there’s a lovely cursed tattoo parlor in town, somewhere,” she ribbed with an insincere smile plastered on her face as he glared at her. “Now I have question for you, Captain. How did you get your memories back?”

Now it was Killian’s turn to grin disingenuously. “It seems the Crocodile didn’t trust you, so he apparently had a back door built into the curse, a failsafe as it were, to get his... rather my memories back.”

“I guess I should have read the fine print more closely,” Regina muttered sarcastically.

“So now what?” Killian asked.

“What do you mean?”

“The curse, Regina. What do you plan to do about the curse?” Killian asked exasperatedly. Surely things couldn’t go on as they had, not when he had his memories back and Henry suspected the truth.

“Nothing.”

“What do you mean, nothing?” Killian asked incredulously at her flippant nonchalance.

“Just as I said. I’m sorry that your revenge didn’t give you the happy ending you were hoping for, but mine is working out exactly as I had planned.” He wasn’t sure who she was trying to convince with that statement; him or her.

“Really? Everyone’s misery is giving you the happy ending you wanted? Even Henry’s?”

“Leave my son out of this,” she snapped.

Well, that certainly struck a chord. Finally.

“Henry will be just fine as soon as I get rid of that woman he brought here.”

“Getting rid of Emma isn’t going to change the fact that Henry knows about the curse. Knows who you really are… Your Majesty.”

“Children believe all sorts of things, Hook. He’ll grow out of it eventually.”

Killian was dumbfounded by Regina’s insistence on keeping Henry in the dark. Not that he could really blame her. She was The Evil Queen, and though the lad might suspect the truth, knowing for certain that your parent was a vile villain wasn’t something a young boy would be able to get over all too quickly. He should know. Still, Killian couldn’t keep his care and concern for the boy from surfacing as he continued to petition on Henry’s behalf.

“And what about in the meantime? How do you think it’s going to affect Henry long-term, knowing that people think he’s crazy for believing in a curse that we both know is real?”

A glint of menacing inspiration flickered behind Regina’s eyes sending a shuddering chill of cold dread down Killian’s spine. He could see some sort of sinister plan formulating in her mind, but before he could press her further she collected her purse and started for the door.

“Thank you, Captain,” she offered with a sickening smile. “I think you’ve provided me with the exact answer I came here looking for.”

Without another word Regina took her leave while Killian warred with himself on whether or not to follow her. Something he’d said had sparked a plan behind her eyes in regards to the Swan girl, and Regina seemed too pleased with herself. That was never a good sign, but Killian also had the matter of the dagger to attend to.

Knowing he needed to find a place to secure it before anyone else had an opportunity to see it, Killian made his way through the back room towards the exit when another glint of metal caught his eye. He stood transfixed by the sight of his hook sitting on one of the shelves, it was ethereally illuminated by the light creeping in from a break in the curtains. Retrieving it, Killian was torn between two emotions; the comfort of being reunited with the familiar, and the pain in the reminder that he was a villain.

Where he once reveled in the power, notoriety, and reactions that his hook afforded him in that infamous Captain’s persona, Killian now shuddered at the thought of someone like Henry learning the truth. He’d become a villain for his revenge, and in gaining his revenge had become so much worse. If it weren’t for the fact that his hook provided him access to the perfect hiding spot for the dagger, he’d be tempted to leave it behind. As it was, his hook was the only key that opened the hidden compartment on the Jolly Roger; the compartment where no one would know to look for the cursed blade.

Killian returned to his ship, beat a determined path down to his cabin intent on hiding the accursed blade, and almost made it to the safe when he heard the sound of rushed footfalls on the planks of the deck above. Knowing the only person that would come near his ship willingly was Henry, Killian quickly stashed the hook and dagger on a shelf, and made haste to head the lad off.

“Henry, lad! I’m surprised to see you. You haven’t-” Killian cut off his greeting at the sight of tears streaming down the boy’s face. Damn you, Regina! “Henry, my boy, what’s happened?”

Killian kept the lad on deck as he attempted to patiently listen to Henry’s account, all the while distracted by the fact that his hook and dagger were just below. He had to keep Henry from stumbling across them, but was torn in his desires.

On one hand, he’d like nothing more than to march Henry back to Emma and confess everything to the lad and his mother. The truth of the curse, evidence of an entire realm’s displacement, and assurances that Henry was not crazy. Assurances that Regina was, in fact, the diabolical villain Henry believed her to be.

But therein lies the rub. In order to affirm Henry to Emma, Killian would have to expose his own villainy to the lad, and to the woman for whom he couldn’t deny a growing attraction. Surely doing so would cost Killian every bit as much in his relationship with the boy as it would Regina. He hadn’t had the time to dwell, nor the inclination to truly analyze his thoughts and regards towards the Swan girl, but the idea that the truth of who he really was would eliminate any chance he’d have to find out left him feeling just as bereft.

“Then she said I couldn’t tell the difference between fantasy and reality, and that I was crazy. You don’t think I’m crazy, do you, Killian?” Henry asked with mournful, brown eyes, piercing him with their need to find hope and assurance.

Centuries of self-preservation won out. Killian couldn’t bring himself to confess the truth of who he truly was. Henry had come to him because he trusted him, had come to rely on their friendship, and so had he. He couldn’t lose the boy, so Killian found himself consoling a distraught Henry with the advice that he seek out Dr. Hopper’s counsel. Side stepping Henry’s insecurities of whether or not he believed him with empty platitudes of there, there as he ushered the boy off the ship with promises that everything would work out in the end.

Killian watched the still distraught lad as he made his way back towards Main Street, and vowed that he’d make it up to the boy later. He hurried back down to the cabin to secure the dagger in the safe, the satisfying click of the lock as Killian stowed the dagger in the secured compartment sent a rush of relief through him. His relief was immediately followed by regret. Regret that he had dismissed Henry in his panic and cowardice. Regret that it was his words to Regina that had sparked such a vicious set-up of entrapment for Emma and Henry. A villain he may be, but Henry deserved better. If the whole purpose of hiding his true identity was so he wouldn’t lose what he had with the boy, then he’d have to do a better job of selling the persona Henry had come to know and expect from him.

Resolved in his determination to make things right with Henry, Killian set off towards town to see what he could offer in the way of comfort and damage control. Then he’d deal with Regina.

With Mary Margaret’s words on repeat in her head, ‘If you won’t protect Henry, then who will?’, Emma burst through Dr. Hopper’s office door to find a despondent Henry on the couch.

“Ms. Swan,” Dr. Hopper exclaimed as he shot out of his chair and came towards her. “Look, I can explain. The Mayor forced me.”

“I know,” she said, cutting off his explanation. “Don't worry about it. I get it.” She wasn’t really interested in assuaging the man of his guilt, but she’d need him on her side if she was going to make things right. “Henry, I'm sorry.”

“I don't want to talk to you,” Henry muttered, refusing to look her way.

“Ms. Swan, if she knew you were here,” Dr. Hopper warned.

“To hell with her!” Emma snapped before settling herself in front of Henry, addressing him in earnest. “Henry, there is one simple reason I stayed here. You. I wanted to get to know you.”

“You think I'm crazy,” Henry argued, still refusing to look at her.

“No, I think the curse is crazy, and it is.” She paused to collect her thoughts, carefully choosing her next words. “But that doesn't mean that it isn't true. It is a lot to ask anyone to believe in, but there are a lot of crazy things in this world. So what do I know? Maybe it is true.”

Henry cast a furtive glance her way, and a sense of hope swelled within her that maybe she was getting through to him.

“But you told my mom-”

“What she needed to hear,” she insisted, a surge of inspiration hitting her on how to manage the fallout of Regina’s heartless actions. “What I do know is that if the curse is real, the only way to break it is by tricking the Evil Queen,” Henry finally met her gaze, “into thinking that we are nonbelievers, because that way, she's not on to us. Isn't that what Operation Cobra was all about? Throwing her off the trail?”

As she spoke, Emma could see that her words were making an impact. Henry became enthralled with the plan she was laying out before him, and Dr. Hopper gave her an encouraging smile of support. When she’d finished, Henry leaned forward excitedly as he praised her.

“Brilliant.”

Bolstered by Henry’s renewed spirit and enthusiasm towards her, Emma continued in her efforts to re-establish the camaraderie and trust they had shared since he’d brought her to town.

“I read the pages, and Henry, you're right, they are dangerous. There is only one way to make sure that she never sees these.” Emma stood and made her way to the fireplace, she placed the torn out pages of the storybook she’d been holding into the flames. “Now we have the advantage,” she declared as she turned to face him once more, only to be met by Henry’s crushing hug around her middle.

“I knew you were here to help me,” he said as Emma wrapped her arms around him and brought a hand to the back of his head, stroking his hair as she rested her chin atop it.

“That's right, kid. I am,” she affirmed with conviction. Before releasing him, she added, “And nothing, not even a curse, is gonna stop that.”

Henry smiled and wrapped himself around her once more, Emma tamped down the feelings that made her want to run. She’d told Mary Margaret that the reason she’d planned to leave was so Henry wouldn’t keep getting hurt, but she knew that wasn’t the only reason. ‘What happens if you go?’ the woman had asked, and Emma hadn’t just thought of Henry in that moment.

She’d thought of her own loneliness. Going back to a life with no promise of anything more than being alone. It was a safe life, one that she could control, but was it what she wanted? In the three days since Henry had brought her to Storybrooke Emma had started to rethink many things about her life. Staying meant being a mom to Henry, and promises of friendship with his teacher, a woman who had confessed feeling a kinship with her from the moment they met.

Kinship.

The word drummed up potential promises of other new connections, as well, and her mind went back to the bar where she’d shared a drink with the mysterious Killian Jones. A man who had professed to being on Henry’s side, who read her like an open book, and stirred in her a desire to stay. A desire that, once again, had her wanting to run for the hills.  

‘I think the very fact that you want to leave is why you have to stay.’ Mary Margaret had been talking about Henry and his best interests when she’d spoken those words, but Emma knew in that moment, as Henry held on tightly to her, that choosing to stay and fight for his best interest just might mean fighting for her’s as well.

She and Henry said their goodbyes to Dr. Hopper and made their way out of his office and back towards Henry’s house. Henry was bubbling with excitement over the next step in Operation Cobra, and Emma, though still unsure of her role in his life, couldn’t help but smile at him and bask in the pride she felt that, just maybe, she’d be able to give him his best chance after all.

As Killian rounded the corner by the Cricket’s office he was heartened to see Henry and Emma emerging with smiles and an easiness about them which pulled at the corner of his lips as he gave over to a wide grin. Relieved that everything seemed to be back to rights between mother and son, Killian resisted the urge to interrupt their moment together as they headed back towards the Mayor’s home. Knowing that Regina would be headed that way soon as well, Killian changed his course.

He wanted to give Henry and his mother some uninterrupted time together to say goodnight without Regina’s interference, and, well, rubbing in the fact that her plan to drive a wedge between them had failed was just too good a boon to pass up. As he made his way to Regina’s office Killian was struck with a feeling. I feel… content, happy even. He thought, perhaps, for the first time in twenty-eight years, (or a few centuries for that matter) he may not need to find solace at the bottom of a bottle that night.

Killian found Regina attempting to salvage the damage Swan had inflicted on her beloved apple tree, and the image of the brazen woman holding the chainsaw flashed through his mind sending an unexpected jolt of desire through him. Now’s not the time, mate, he admonished himself as he tamped down feelings he hadn’t experienced since… Yeah. Definitely not the time.

“Quite the mess,” he commented in lieu of a greeting as he entered the courtyard.

“Not for long,” Regina replied. A self-satisfied smirk rested on her lips as she asked, “What do you want, Hook?”

“Mr. Jones, Madam Mayor,” he corrected. “We must keep up appearances after all.”

“So, you’ve decided to play along? You aren’t going to tell Henry about the curse?”

She eyed him critically as he sauntered around the tree, assessing the damage and weighing his words in his mind before he spoke them aloud. “I’ll keep the secret from Henry and his mother… for now.”

“I am Henry’s mother,” she snapped, momentarily losing the cool facade she had been presenting. Once she was able to school her features, she added, “Besides, we no longer need to worry about her. I just rid the town of the unwanted nuisance.”

“Really?” he questioned with an air of mock surprise.

“Yes. I imagine she's halfway to Boston by now.”

“Oh, I wouldn't bet on that,” he chortled, popping the t as he made his way back around to stand before her. He didn’t want to miss the expression on her face as he revealed this next part. “I've just seen her strolling down Main Street with the lad. Thick as thieves, they looked.”

“What?”

“Seems you’ve underestimated her, as you tend to do with everyone,” he jeered.

“You mean you?” she snarked. “Don’t kid yourself, Hook. You and I both know the reason why you aren’t going to say anything to Henry or that woman about the curse. You’re a villain. Actually, no.” She paused as she assessed him with malice and contempt. “You’re worse. You’re The Dark One.”

Regina swept past him, leaving him to stew at her words, but not before he had the satisfaction of seeing the rage and panic behind her eyes. Not so unaffected by the news that her scheme hadn’t worked, it seemed. His gratification was short lived, however, as he considered her taunts. He was worse than a villain, and now, more than ever, he had to keep the truth from Henry. From everyone.

Once again he found himself in the familiar company of self-loathing and misery, and began to trod his usual path to The Rabbit Hole. It seemed he would not be receiving a reprieve from his demons that night after all. Despite the dark musings swirling around him, he could not help but hope that perhaps the fates would show him a kindness. Perhaps, a certain, spirited blonde just might be occupying a barstool when he arrived.

So caught up in his thoughts, Killian did not notice the yellow bug parked on Main Street. The yellow bug that housed the very woman he’d hoped to run into. Emma Swan sat looking through the Storybrooke Mirror in the hopes of finding a place to stay.

 Chapter Four

Tagging some lovelies that have asked to be tagged, as well as some we believe might enjoy. Please let us know if you do, or don’t wish to be tagged.

@abeylin1982 @aprilqueen84 @artistic-writer @ashar663 @bschratter @captain-k-jones @captain-swan-coffee @downeystarkjr @florenzu @freakassbuthunter @gingerchangeling @golfgirld @greenleaf777 @ilovemesomekillianjones @jennjenn615 @kmomof4 @laschatzi @leiaswanjoneskid @like-waves-on-the-beach @mcbrideannemgt  @rookiehookie @seriouslyhooked @teamhook @ultraluckycatnd @xhookswenchx @yayimallamaagain

[katranga]

Disclaimer: Fic is just for fun. Nobody on ao3, or tumblr, or wherever, is expecting perfection. Most of these tips are gonna take a little extra time and effort to implement, and if you don’t feel like doing that, because you just wanna post the darn thing? Go for it! I’m not here to tell you what to do, and I’m certainly not saying that your writing is bad if you don’t follow these tips. These are just suggestions that will hopefully help you improve your work, if that’s what you’re after.

Intro: Why Revise?

To kick things off, I’d like to go over the importance of revision!! This is more of a general writing tip, but it’s a great starting point, because I DON’T want you to be thinking about most of my future tips while you’re writing the first draft. 

I want you to get. those. words. on. the. page! That’s all you should be worried about when you’ve got a blank page staring you in the face. 

There’s so much pressure to get writing right the first time, but I’m here to tell you that’s pretty much impossible. So, pressure’s off! Just write the basics so you get to know your story first. I

I know it seems like writing it perfectly will save you editing/revising time later on, but you can’t revise—let alone post—what you don’t have written because you’re stuck on one line that doesn’t sound just right. You with me so far? Great!

Honestly, writing gets so much faster when you remind yourself that no one is going to see your first draft!

So I cannot overstate the importance of revision.

Because guess what? Everything you don’t like about your first draft can be fixed in revision!

Okay. What is it?

To clarify, when I say first draft, I don’t mean the stuff you do in high school, where you write out a shitty essay on paper first and then type it up basically the same, just to prove to the teacher you wrote a first draft?? Or whatever.

I mean you just write the absolute basics of your story down, and fill in the rest and perfect it later (I’ll go into detail about how exactly to do that in my motivation post).

Now, grammar, spelling, and overall readability, are all important things to fix before you post. But that’s little stuff, and your word processor will be able to pick up on some of that, and just rewording a few sentences to make them clearer probably won’t take too much effort on your end (though I am gonna have a post about filler words and clarity and stuff like that, so if that tends to be a problem for you, I gotchu).

Besides basic grammar/spelling, most of what I change as my first draft transforms into my second or third is: 

Improving the flow of a scene (it can’t all be dialogue, unfortunately)

Pacing throughout the fic (are they falling love too fast? is this scene too long? etc)

Overall clarity (I know why the character did that, but will the reader?)

It may be different for you. Basically, you’re polishing up whatever you didn’t worry about writing the first draft.

My first drafts, for example? They’re 80% dialogue. Because that’s my favourite! And that’s what comes to me when I’m dreaming up fics. But then I go back later and beef up the rest—the characters’ movements in a scene, their inner dialogue, description etc.

Because as much as I love dialogue, scenes feel empty and too-fast with just characters talking. Similarly, scenes can feel bogged down and slow with just characters thinking about things.

But revision isn’t just about adding things! Sometimes you need to take stuff out. Inner dialogue that later gets covered by dialogue? Cut it. (Or vice versa—maybe the detail isn’t important enough for the characters to talk about, and just the mention of it within the narration is enough).

The point is, repetition needs to go. The reader rarely needs to be told the same thing twice.

Quick example from the top of my head:

Lance had lost his jacket. He’d looked over the whole castle for it, but couldn’t find it anywhere. His brother gave him that jacket. One of his last ties to Earth, and it was missing in action.

Maybe Keith took it to spite him, that jerk.

“What’s up, Lance?” Hunk asked when he passed him in the hall.

“I lost my jacket!” Lance said. “My signature jacket, the one Marco gave me! I’ve looked everywhere, but it’s gone. Do you think Keith stole it?”

Same information twice: Lance can’t find his brother’s jacket despite a thorough search, and suspects Keith stole it. No reason to repeat that. Something’s gotta go.

I know cutting stuff isn’t fun. You worked hard on that! You spent hours/days/whatever perfecting a sentence until it gleamed like a diamond, and now just because you thought of a better way to get that information across you have to get rid of it? No way!

I’ve been there, trust me. But hanging on just slows down the whole writing process. Because, for me at least, I know when stuff needs to go, or needs a massive overhaul, or whatever. I’m just digging my heels in because I don’t wanna do any additional work.

Luckily, this is where your shitty first draft comes in handy! If all you did was spit words onto the page as soon as they entered your head, then you didn’t spend a lot of back-breaking effort on whatever you need to cut! And what you need to cut isn’t anything awe-inspiring, it’s just your rough notes, so tossing it aside isn’t nearly as stressful!

Remember, you can always save scenes/dialogue/etc in a separate document! Maybe you’ll be able to salvage some it later. Alternatively, create separate versions of the doc as you edit/revise. If you end up actually needing part of a deleted scene, you’ve still got it somewhere!

And please, never think of the stuff you cut (or fics you never finished) as “wasted time”. Writing time is never wasted! You’re practicing, you’re honing your craft, and even if some bits never see the light of day, you’re still benefitting from all that work you did!

Now, I know I know I know most people edit/revise as they write. Can’t think of the next scene? Reread the previous scene and fiddle with it until something comes to you. That’s great! Revising already written material is loads better than just staring at your screen!

BUT I’ve recently started writing the whole gosh darn diddly thing without looking back and that is so much faster! While I highly recommend it, that’s obviously difficult to do when you don’t know what’s going to happen next in the fic.

Or if you just don’t have the motivation. So! That’ll be our next topic: Getting words on the page!

But for now, I’ve got an example under the cut, as well as additional resources and links if you want to learn more about revision!

Here’s where I take an old embarrassing fic of mine and revise it, hopefully clarifying the points I’ve been making, as well as proving that only practice makes better!

Okay so this is an excerpt of one of my unpublished fics from 2011. I’m just gonna be honest with you here, it was a Twilight human!AU where Edward was a massive nerd. 

For background, Bella has been at the new school like a week and is appalled at the bullying happening to Edward, who she barely knows. (It’s first person bc that’s how the books were written. Just deal with it.)

Here we go:

“They gave him a swirly yesterday,” I announced, appalled.

“Who?”

“Edward!”

Jessica shrugged, unaffected. “Nothing new.”

“Well what are they, twelve?” I demanded angrily.

“He kind of needed a hair wash,” Mike muttered.

Snorts of amusement followed.

“Stuffing his head into a toilet is not funny,” I argued.

“Yes it is, Bella,” Alice chuckled.

“Kay, next time we go to the bathroom, I’ll shove your head into a toilet,” I offered. “And we’ll all laugh about it.”

This was a whole scene, I kid you not. Now, this isn’t bad because it’s just dialogue. It’s ten lines. That’s a reasonable amount of space for a quick dialogue exchange. HOWEVER, there’s about four people in this scene, so the dialogue tags are a little sparse. ALSO, this is the first time Bella’s bringing her concerns about Edward to the group, so there should be more inner reflection on that.

Overall, it’s just way too minimalist lol. So  this is a good example to beef up.

First of all: where the fuck are we? Notice how no setting was given? Not the greatest habit to get into. If it’s already been established in the fic where people are, and the setting’s not that important, I guess you can skip it, but a quick mention isn’t gonna hurt. You don’t want the reader confused!

Since this a Twilight fic, let’s say they’re in the caf. (In Voltron fics, you’re probably gonna be on the ship, but you can always mention what room they’re in. Or, if it’s a new planet, give a line or two of description).

Explanations for changes I made are in [square brackets]:

I tossed my lunch tray onto the table before throwing myself onto the chair next to Alice. “They gave him a swirly yesterday.”

[Indicated setting. Also implied she was feeling “appalled” using verbs instead of outright stating it. Showing not telling!]

Across from me, Angela looked up from the sandwich she was picking at. “Who?”

[Indicated who was speaking—always important—as well as gave brief description of speaker].

“Edward,” I said like it should be obvious. I scanned the cafeteria for him, but the corner he usually sat in alone was empty.

[Another mention of setting. Also backed up her concern for Edward with action and not just talking about him].

Jessica shrugged, unaffected. “So what?”

“So?” I repeated incredulously.

So I’d never heard of someone actually getting a swirly. In real life. Shitty teen dramas? Yeah. Actual high school? No. It was ridiculous, and gross, and… I hadn’t seen anything to indicate Edward deserved it. (Nobody who’d ever deserved a swirly had ever received one, I was sure).

[The almighty character motivation! Note that you don’t actually have to explicitly state why they’re doing something—obviously we as the reader know the deep-down motivation is because Bella cares for Edward. But characters are not always forthcoming with information, even to themselves. Right now she’s focusing on the unjustness of the situation, and partially trying to convince herself that’s all it is].

Mike slung an arm across the back of Jessica’s chair, snorting a laugh. “He needed to wash his hair, anyway.”

“A toilet’s not gonna do that, Mike!”

[Just a cleverer response. Also, a dialogue tag isn’t needed, because no other speaker at the table is gonna be defending Edward. We know it’s Bella.]

He ignored my glare, choosing instead to steal a fry off my plate. I smacked his hand away.

[Again—action. The characters aren’t just static in their seats.]

“Well, really,” Alice began. “What’s it matter?” She sat up sharply, an idea just now occurring to her. “You haven’t been making friends with him, have you? I told you, Bella, it’s social suicide!”

[Gives Alice a chance to respond to Bella’s outburst—in this AU Alice is very concerned with popularity and does not want Bella associating with Edward. She would definitely have a problem with Bella sympathizing with Edward.]

I rolled my eyes. “No, I just…”

The whole situation was ridiculous. This wasn’t how people should be treated. Was I the only one who realized that? Was I really the only one who cared?

“Whatever,” I grumbled, crunching down on a fry.

[This feels like a more natural resolution to the conversation. Alice directly asks why Bella cares, and Bella reiterates to herself it’s just because. And then decides it’s not worth the argument. This is 2k into an (unfinished) 30k fic. She’ll make a bigger deal out of stuff later.]

Now it looks more like a real scene! 

So, to summarize, I added: Description—both setting and character! Character musing! Cleverer comebacks! 

These are just some of the things that you can fix with a keen-eyed round of revision.

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And that about wraps this up! I didn’t want this to get too long, but it did anyway. (I’m sorry about the graphics I’m a writer, not a graphic designer. But I had to split the post up so it wasn’t one big block of text)

Was any of that helpful? Was it too long? Did the example clarify things? Let me know, I wanna make sure these tips are helpful!

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Additional Resources That I Highly Recommend:

DRAFTING: THE THEORY OF SHITTY FIRST DRAFTS -- This post probably explains shitty first drafts better than I ever could! If you still have concerns about it, definitely check it out.

Editing & Revision Answerathon -- Okay, this video is pretty long, but I looove Max Kirin for anything writing-related and especially revision!! They’ve got a tumblr and a Youtube account filled with writing tips! If you like getting your writing info through videos, definitely check out their stuff.

Top 5 Writing Tips: Revision -- Here’s an infographic by Max if you don’t want to watch a 44 minute video lol. Also, you can go through their /tagged/revision for more!

[hayjeon]

Story Talk: Young and Beautiful (ft. Jimin)

Welcome! Story Talks are kind of like pillow talks for me and my readers, posted whenever I finish a fic that I particularly have the need to talk more about. It’s kind of like a sorts of director’s cut/actor’s commentary on a movie, but just the writing version, from me hehe it’ll explain a lot of my intentions with the fic and point out things here and there that will help you understand it more! Plus I’ll answer common questions here and update it regularly as the questions come.

What inspired this fic?

Gosh, I can’t begin on how much I love Fitzgerald. He is the American writing genius, and The Great Gatsby is why I decided to become an English major in the first place. The prose in that novel is absolutely breathtaking and I think I’ve read it cover to cover more than ten times now. I even bought a hardcover version of it that’s much nicer because my paperback was getting ruined LOL 

But wow when the movie came out, I fell even deeper in love and I wrote countless papers on this novel. Exploring the ways Fitzgerald describes his scenery and creates characters that leave an imprint whilst still attacking the criticisms on American industrialism and materialism fascinates me to no end. So, yeah, I am just so in love with this novel, and it only made sense that I would write about it here on tumblr to share. 

Why Jimin as the gatsby figure?

I read somewhere on the members’ evaluations of eachother as potential boyfriends, they said Jimin would be the type to give everything to his significant other. And I think the innocence but the unshielded confidence that Park Jimin has in real life really tackles the dichotomy of Gatsby’s character. He’s a man who is torn between his vision of what he wants for himself and Daisy, but at the same time is so unskilled in the ways he achieves, in an almost childlike faith. And I think Jimin portrays that very well, showing passion but also an endearing immaturity in his features and attitudes in his everyday life. 

Initially I wanted to write it about Jin, or maybe Taehyung. But I decided in the end that Jimin would be the best fic because he is ultimately someone who would die for his significant other, and give literally his everything. Which is also why I’m in love with Park Jimin. 

Why did you write it so similar to the original?

I want to address this because I know the way I wrote it is similar lol I practically read over the book twice more to make sure I got everything down the way I wanted it to. But I wanted to maintain the originality of it, and also develop my own similar version of prose. If you read carefully, you’ll notice that my writing is a bit different in that I take more time to describe the scenes, the colors, the emotions. And that’s so characteristic of Fitzgerald’s writing, and I’m not regretful at all that I did so because through this writing process, I definitely learned more about myself as a writer and grew so much doing this fic. 

Any future drabbles/sequels?

No, I think that the genuinity of the original plotline that Fitzgerald created should be preserved. Plus, I think that the ending is pretty self-explanatory. There isn’t much more to say. That’s the beauty of The Great Gatsby. 

Other commentary

I want to focus on the main character for this commentary, because I did something with her that I’ve never really done before on a fic. If you found it weird that I transitioned from her point of view to Taehyung’s in the middle when he meets Jimin and then back to her’s, it was intentional.

Taehyung mentions how Y/N isn’t reliable, talking about how she sometimes “retreated into her memories and picked and chose what she liked, throwing them away like the clothes she wore.” Y/N is in an abusive relationship. She’s being cheated on and controlled mentally and physically by Namjoon. She clearly exhibits denial and ignorance through it all, which is why we end up depending on Taehyung for the facts and the actual truth despite his drunkenness through most of it, because her memories and perspective is just so skewed and altered at this point that even his drunk memories and questions are better than her level headed ones. 

She “forgets” the fact that Namjoon cheated on her during their honeymoon, and she also fails to mention she knows Jimin. She’s almost psychologically rearranging her memories into what she desires her life to be, which is why she can forget so easily about Jimin at the end of the fic. It’s both entirely and not at all her fault, which is why this fic (and the novel) ends with no one to actually blame. 

Can we blame Jimin for loving her endlessly? No. Can we blame Y/N for rearranging her memories, and being the weakest yet most shameless main character I’ve ever written? No. She’s abused, and her actions have no ill intentions. But it doesn’t mean they go unnoticed or unaffecting on the rest of the characters, especially in the death scene. The only person left to blame is Namjoon, who lied in order to save himself and Y/N, but blaming him gives us no satisfaction because he was so insignificant in the first place, and we don’t even get to see the scene in which he lies, because the fic ends with an open end. 

This is the beauty of the characters. It leaves you unsatisfied, unable to direct your anger or blame anywhere, and is why the gatsby narrative is such a heartbreaking yet captivating one at the same time. 

Do you have a theme for the fic? 

As a writer, ask myself whether I’m writing with a purpose or not. Especially when I write 1k drabbles that is just pure pwp smut, it’s difficult to really say that I write with a theme in mind. But no tea, those drabbles and smut in general is a way of expression creativity and I love it. And I’ll keep doing it. 

But anyways, I started this fic with a purpose, and although I’d rather have readers figure it out on their own completely, since it’s my first time doing something like this, I’ll comment a tiny bit on what I intended. Kudos to you if you’re a reader that’s reading this, and you figure it out! 

I comment a lot on responsibility in this fic, that’s all I’ll say about it for now! If there are any readers who figure it out and send me an ask, I’ll update this post with it! :) 

Final thoughts

I am so so so happy I decided to sit my ass down and actually pound this monster out. It had been sitting in my drafts since I literally started this blog months ago, and I’ve always wanted to finish it but always ran into blocks in the middle and ended up re-writing it about five times lollll

But definitely it made me reflect on my writing skills and develop a lot more love for prose in general and it really makes me feel personally accomplished that I was able to finish this fic. 

Peace, I love Park Jimin, and I love Gatsby. 

PS. Will be taking a break from writing long fics for a while looool im so tired ;-; but no worries! My drabble game is still open!