#and yeah this thing's name isn't any clearer

[front-facing-pokemon]

[leafostuff]

Blind sexDate[Ft. StayC's Isa & Fromis_9's Chaeyoung]

Tags: none, its a threesome

Word count: 6.5K

Author's: that...took a while, started to write this in 26th of August so i did take a very long time to finally have this out but here it is: my October upload

I really want to thank @prael @capslocked @octoberautumnbox and many others from the discord for helping me with stuff I wasn't sure about, i am really proud of that fic and i hope everyone else will enjoy reading it as much as i had fun writing it.

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She sounds pretty.

It's the lilt of her voice, how it does a cute thing where she almost, but not quite rolls her r's and chews on her consonants. A voice that sounds like it belongs to someone small. Someone, you know - conventionally attractive. 

Four minutes, fifty-five seconds. And that's pretty much all she has going for her.

"Let me tell you about my friend's vacation," she starts again, and you've lost track of if this is the same friend, same vacation - or a new one. They're all blending together.

you always thought the ‘blind’ was a figure of speech. it's fucking pitch black, you wonder if compared to the other guys you were underdressed,, you did see one guy with a blazer and jeans your paycheck couldn't even pay a quarter of it.

But back to the girl, her non stop ramble is now a background noise in your ears, not even sure you can recall who is the ex of who and which boyfriend cheated on her best friend with her sister. Your brain can't keep up.

but regardless, the first round is thankfully over, say your goodbyes to the first girl and stay in your chair.

you consider leaving right now to try and not get disappointed even more, however…

“Hey” The next girl is already here, it will be rude of you to leave just like that.

“Hi I am Jake” you respond

“Nice to meet you, my name is Chaeyoung, but you can just call me Isa” she responds. The first impression you gather is her voice, Airy and sweet like honey

“Huh, it's a pretty name, First time I ever heard a name like that ” you can hear a quiet giggle to your compliment.

“Thank you, I am actually from South Korea, I came here to LA for summer vacation”.

“That's cool, I actually live in LA myself” You lean back in your chair, getting comfortable around the mysterious girl.

“Oh wow” you could hear the excitement in her voice. “Do you have any places you can recommend to me?” she asked.

“Uhh…well, Here in Santa Monica Pier it's always fun for tourists too walk around here, I assume you have already been at the walk of fame in Hollywood and Universal studios” you answer. 

“I have to say though: this whole dating in the darkness is very fun, isn't it?” Fun is certainly one way to describe this, the other way is a gamble but for the sake of keeping the conversation fun you agree with her.

“Its like all of my other senses are much stronger, like some superhero…” Isa giggles, it's addictive that you can't help but join, with the sound of small shifts on her chair you can imagine how she is doing some battle poses.

“Hehe thats truuu-” quickly shut your mouth, that voice crack was the last thing you needed on a date but fortunately for you, Chaeyoung sounds a short laugh.

“Nervous?”

“hehe…Yeah, been a while since i was on a date” you explain, recalling your experiences with your failed relationships, it still stings a bit.

"Let's play a game then." There's some faint sounds of movement—a ruffling of clothes and the creak of a chair. She sounds clearer now, her voice doesn't have to carry as far and she's far more pronounced. 

"Help you relax a bit: What do you think I look like?” she asks, her tone is playful and happy as if she is the host of a game show, This second date goes better than you expected.

“Hmm…let me think…I am gonna guess that you have…black hair…is it long?” Your first answer is hesitant.

“Not telling~” she responds with a playful note. “How about my clothes?”

There is curiosity in her voice, excited to see how you will respond, you could hear her fingers tapping on the table, remembering to not waste time. “Well, you sound like a sweet girl, like the simple things in life, so…” you pause, trying to imagine her in many different styles and clothes that could fit her in the 5 or so minutes that you got to know her. 

Remember who is wasting who’s time so better lock in your answer now and say.

“My guess is… a summer dress?” quite the answer you give out, and the way you say it like you are one answer away from receiving the grand prize of Chaeyoung's game show, but back to her answer…

“You think it's something I will wear?” Isa questions, her tone sounds like she is also imagining herself wearing one.

“Yeah, it looks cute,” you respond. “And its not too crazy to wear on a first date” you add, hearing a small giggle after.

“Ok, i will keep it mind next time we meet”

“Will there be a next time?”

“I don't see why not”

You're happy, a bit surprised it didn't take you that much time to find someone in this speed blind dating thing, expecting more or less what happened the prior date but here you are.

“It's your turn to guess now?” You ask, already feeling comfortable around her.

“Ok ok, so i-”

But sadly as if life has decided to cockblock you, the time is over as an alarm can be heard as a signal to switch, you can only look at the general direction of where Chaeyoung could be and sigh, showing your disappointment.

“We can always meet later if you want” you can feel her wanting to continue her date with you but every good thing must come to an end

“Of course, it was very fun talking with you”

“Same to you as well” you can hear Isa lift herself from the chair. “See ya” she added in a happy tone before leaving you at the lone table. You can't help yourself but smile.

“Maybe it won't be as bad as i thought” 

=================================

Time goes on and other girls come and go, however, you can't help but wonder more about Isa, what makes her laugh? What does she like to do on the weekends? what are her dreams, aspirations and everything in between, the curiosity killed you inside.

more importantly: you wonder what she looks like, outside of the darkness you were both in. If it wasn't clear enough: you are interested in her, they all say love at first sight doesn't exist but here you are, letting your mind fill with the idea of her.

You are set in stone of your choice, and there is no chance you will change yo-.

“uhm Hello? Are you there?”

Zoom out of your thoughts, focus on the husky, feminine voice coming from what seems to be in front of you. How long has she been sitting there? How long have you been daydreaming?? Thank god it's dark so quickly compose yourself before it can get awkward and start talking.

“Oh hi, im jake. Nice to meet you”

“Uhh, nice to meet you too,” she responds, it's not hard to hear the shakiness and in her voice showing her nervousness to you, the small shifting sounds in her chair. “I am Chaeyoung”.

You're caught off guard, the world is smaller than it seems with you meeting two girls Sharing the same name, “isn't that a Korean name?”

“Uh, yeah, how…how did you know?”.

“I actually met another girl named Chaeyoung before in here” you say, it would be funny if they actually knew each other but the chances are slim. It's not like you know every Jake either.

“Oh, that's cool…” she mumbled, sounding as if she was disappointed to hear it

The silence is now getting awkward, you both wait for the other one to start breaking more of the ice and it seems that she was the patient one between both of you since you are the first to give up and get the conversation going.

“So what do you do? For a living I mean” you are met with unintelligible mumbles as an answer, a bit unsure you ask her again to clarify.

“I…model, it's not super serious though” Chaeyoung quietly answered, you could hear light, quick taps beneath the table.

“Oh wow, I bet you are like, really pretty if you do modeling” you dont know how much confidence you got to say such a thing but you are already mentally face-palming yourself. You could feel yourself gaining some creep points in her mind over this comment.

“Oh, uhh Thank…thank you very much” Chaeyoung stutters, her tone jumps an Octave, sounding a small giggle. You can only sigh in relief that you didn't weird Chaeyoung out.

“I'm in LA for a photoshoot, since we finished earlier than expected i got a couple of days free to hang out around the city” she explains, still sounding nervous but much more at ease than before. “So what do you do for work, Jake?” She returns your question to you.

“Ah, I just work as a barista in a small café, nothing much.” you manage to say in a montone, unpleasant tone. You are a bit embarrassed that you have the chance to blind date a model while you are the equivalent of nothing compared to her

“It’s-It’s okay, i'm honestly not some super popular model” her words quickly come out of her mouth. “Besides, I can imagine being a barista is much more relaxing of a job, not trying to get every deal possible just not to lose money.”

“I mean, it doesn't pay much but it is less stressful,” you respond. You can hear two glasses of water placed on the wooden table with one of them handed to you, together with a straw since you could imagine how drinking from the cup would end like.

“So, what does a model like you” you stop, taking a small sip of the water to refresh yourself. -doing in blind speed dating?”

“It's just easier for me, usually when i go on dates I get nervous, and my eyes travel too much, and I kind of panic…” Chaeyoung explains, lightly giggling at her own experience before taking a sip from her water glass as well .“So I thought doing something like this could help me feel uhh you know… less stressed.”

“Hey, you do you, as long as you are comfortable.”

“Yeah, that's true,” Chaeyoung replied. Her voice turns less shaky and more clear than at the start of your date, it was clear that both of you had fun on that date.

So much so that in fact, you both were caught off guard by the timer for your date finishes and the lights suddenly turn up again, revealing the girl in front of you for the first time.

Right off the bat; you understand why Chaeyoung is a model.

A heart-shaped face and a delicate, soft jawline paired with brown, expressive eyes and Black shoulder-length silky hair that is enough to make every man look at her in awe, including you. Even her clothing is model-like with a Chic, stylish black off shoulder shirt and Denim jeans that show her features exceptionally well. By the way, you should say something before you will sound weird

“Oh, nice to meet you” stand up from your chair and raise your hand to a handshake.

“Nice to meet you too, i gotta say that i didn't see that coming at all” Chaeyoung cheerfully responded while shaking your hand, sounding a sincere chuckle while her eyes joined her wide smile.

“Same, i almost had a heart attack” you jokingly say while you get your jacket off your chair. “Say, wanna go outside? Maybe get to know each other more” she only nods, taking her jacket from her chair as you both head out from your table toward the exit of the bar.

=================================

“Oh, here you are” you recognize this airy voice, taken aback as you look at where the voice comes from.

Though you were right about the black hair, you did miss the mark on Isa's outfit. Short crop top and tight jeans, that cute summer dress was nowhere to be found.

Her cat-like eyes lock onto yours, she flashes a sweet yet devilish grin before heading toward the two of you.

“Gotta say Jake: i had a feeling you were good looking, but i didn't expect you to be this good looking” Isa compliments you, giving a small wink then her gaze turns to Chaeyoung with curious eyes.

“Your friend?” She asks you,

“Hi, I'm Chaeyoung, nice to meet you” She says, reaching her hand forward as Isa is suddenly taken by surprise.

“Um, I am Chaeyoung”

“That's my name”

“That's… also my name"

“What's your family name?” Chaeyoung asks, now intrigued by the other girl.

“Its Lee” Isa responds, now it's Chaeyoung’s turn to be surprised.

“that's also…my family name”

During this, you are just looking at what's happening in front of you. As much as you are curious, you are also worried since it seems like both were interested in dating you after this.

However, one quick look at each other, another one to look at you and then looking back at each other, the two girls started laughing, both covering their mouths to muffle the volume. You can only sigh in relief that it turned for the better.

Eventually they both let their laughs out as Chaeyoung speaks. “It's quite a surprise to meet another Korean here in LA”.

“Please, call me Isa, and same, nice to meet you too Chaeyoung” she replies, chuckling lightly as the other girl can't help but start chuckling as well before they reach their hand for a small handshake

“Well that went better than expected” you manage to slip in the conversation reminding them that you are still here.

“You also met him on Speed dating?”

Chaeyoung nods. “We were the last round before the lights turned on, you two met earlier?” 

“Yeah, the other guys were kind of boring but he was a breath of fresh air” Isa explains, turning her gaze to you and winking at you. You could swear your heart skipped a beat.

At this moment one question rose in your mind and as you looked at the two girls with an awkward look, they both realized what you were as they sounded a small ‘oh’ before looking at each other again. As much as you didn't want you, you had to choose one of the girls to be your date.

“You can go out with Jake” Chaeyoung quickly says, smiling sweetly and lightly pushing Isa toward you, both you and the cat-like girl are surprised.

“Chaeyoung? Are you sure?” you question, why was she suddenly

“Yeah yeah, I'm sure, You two met before I met you, so she should have you” she explains, her eyes joining her smile. You did feel bad about leaving Chaeyoung out however an idea was about to be suggested that would fix that problem.

Then again, you aren't sure if this was an actual fix…

“I dont mind you dating us both”

What

“What?” Chaeyoung raises her eyebrow in surprise at Isa, the one who suggested that idea out of the blue, you were not far behind Chaeyoung in your reaction as well, being completely confusement.

“I mean dont see why not, I like you, you like me, she likes you, You like her. I am bad at math but it doesn’t seem too hard to solve this problem” Isa explains looking at you, You and Chaeyoung swap looks, you can feel your cheek heating up and changing to a pink shade.

“I mean uh…as long as Jake doesn't mind, it's okay by me” Chaeyoung stutters, Isa likes this response as she smiles at her new friend, her arm goes around Chaeyoung’s shoulder.

“Im sure it will be great, So what do you say Jake?~” Isa’s voice is sweet when she looks at you with her warm smile, Chaeyoung’s smile is also there but is much more timid.

The choice was now in your field, you didn't expect there to be a third option in the first place and all in honesty: That idea seemed like trouble. But when Isa looks at you with her cheerful smile, standing like that next to Chaeyoung with a smile that makes them look together like the next cover page for a magazine, it's hard to say no to them.

And deep inside: you don't want to.

“Sure, if that's what you two want” you respond, it seems they are both satisfied with your choice as they look at each other with warm smiles. 

you honestly didn't mind this idea as long as they were both happy, besides, what's the worst that could happen?.

=================================

“Dang it!” Isa yelled, almost managing to block your hit of the air puck but it ended up inside the goal because of the unusual angle you shot it. “So…a model, that sounds like a cool job to have, no?” She directed her question to Chaeyoung, giving her the mallet she was holding.

“Huh? Oh yeah, it's fine, I'm not getting many offers compared to the average model” Chaeyoung answers, half focused on aiming the first shot before quickly shooting it at your goal. “but it's good money”

You reflect the puck. “I mean, if it's something you like to D-” Stop what you are saying and block the surprise attack Chaeyoung does, look at her cheeky smile as you know she almost scored“-Do, you can do almost everything you want” you continue what you were saying as you send the puck toward her direction.

“Yeah that's true” Chaeyoung smiled toward you, then quickly smacking the puck directly into your goal, getting herself a point. “So, what do you two work at?”.

“A Gaming cafe, Came to LA as a summer trip with my friends after exams” Isa replied, taking your mallet and shooting the puck from her side.

“Damn, compared to you two my job sounds boring as fuck, You are a model, you work at a gaming cafe, and i am just a barista at a cafe” you jokingly roast yourself, eyes moving from side to side with each side the puck goes to.

“Huh, not my first thought when it comes to your job,” Isa says, a bit surprised. “But…i imagine you look quite handsome in barista clothes” And there she goes again, with that flirty smile and curious eyes that you swear you fall in love deeper than you were.

Now look at Chaeyoung, not as flirty as the other girl but it seems that, unlike the first time you met her, she is much less tense, more at ease around the two of you, genuinely enjoying her time.

After the air hockey game is over and a quick stop to get some of LA’s finest street food (which the two seemed to really enjoy for their first time), the three of you are now sitting on the boardwalk, the sound of the waves going back and forth is singing in your ears, however now they topic of the conversation seems to get more…laid-back.

“So let me get this straight: your best friend is Korean, right?” You ask, Isa responds with a small nod

“And she has a British accent?” Chaeyoung continues your question, getting Isa to laugh again.

“Yes-” she stops talking to take a sip from the water bottle in her. “Fully Korean, with a British accent, one time my friends and I were listening to a song called ‘Run 2 U’ by some random group, and she said the name of the song as” she suddenly released a small chuckle unable to keep her cool.

“As what? Just tell us” Chaeyoung comments, half smiling as if she already knows the answer, Isa meanwhile slowly downed the water so she wouldn't choke before finally saying after a deep breath.

“Raeun tew yew…” The mock accent that Isa adds gives the punch line more of an oomph as you all start laughing, small tears of joy leave your eyes as you slam the wooden deck, meanwhile, Chaeyoung covers her mouth to hide the amount of blush she has on her cheeks from how hard she is laughing.

“Oh that was good, I didn't expect to laugh this hard” You exclaim, taking a deep breath as you now go back to staring at the waves. “Honestly…this date has been really fun, with both of you,”.

“Like-wise, we both enjoyed your company as well” Chaeyoung replies, sweetly giggling while her left fingers go to her hair, pushing it aside with the side effect of getting your cheeks slightly pink, luckily the weak lighting make it hard to see for the two girls.

“Same for me” Isa chimed in with a smile. “Say, want to continue it somewhere else? It's getting late” she prompts as a soft yawn escapes her mouth.

“Huh? Okay, if you want my place is close” you say, standing up from the deck as you lend your hand to help her stand up.

“That's great” She says as her gaze turns to the other girl. “You're coming as well Chae?”.

Chaeyoung suddenly tensed up in surprise. “Chae?” she asks, to which Isa just giggles at her rather cute reaction.

“Yeah, it's a cute nickname, you don't mind it, right?” Her tone is sweet when she asks her friend with a warm smile, that way when Chaeyoung smiles, she mirrors the same warmth with her own smile.

“Of course i don't” she responds, standing up and lightly stretching to gain some sense of her body, “So? Lets go”

“Great” Isa comments before turning her gaze to you. “Jake, mind leading the way?”

=================================

The ride home is quieter than usual.

Not that there were not any talks inside the cab you decided to take to your place, but most of the talking was done by the two girls, sitting on each side of you, only speaking in a language you can only assume is korean.

It’s a simple loop: Isa says something, they look at you (which you could only smile awkwardly at their happy gazes), Chaeyoung answers with something else and they start giggling, sneaking another look at you and then it goes back again.

Eventually the taxi stops, leaving you right in front of your apartment complex. “Hmm, it really is close to the pier” Isa commented, easy for her to say when the entire bus ride has been ten minutes but for you it felt like an eternity.

As you scale the stairs up to your floor and walk to your apartment, you manage to fish the keys to your apartment out of your jeans pockets and open the door.

“Well here we are,” you say, getting inside and turning the lights on, revealing the living room, a couple boxes of instant-noodles on the table, the tv is on with a random news channel. “As you can see, it's not that big but its co-”

As you turn around to look at the two girls, your mouth opens wide in shock.

In front of you is Isa, head tilted slightly to the side as her lips close the distance with Chaeyoung’s. Her hands are not left idle as they both smoothly travel across the older’s back, feeling every inch of her partner’s body.

Meanwhile Chaeyoung's eyes are wide open and her body froze, surprised by the sudden act of Isa. It's not long until she as well eases up into the kiss, gently closing her eyes and putting her hands on the younger’s hips, you can hear how tongues slowly starts getting into the mix as the two girls vocalise small hums and whimpers. Eventually the torture comes to an end as their lips part from eachother but not their hands

“That… was your plan in the…end?” Chaeyoung asks in between pants, trying to collect air to aid surprise

“Of course, and besides…” Isa answers, turning her head enough to get her eyes on you, more specifically a bit down from your eyes. “It seems like he enjoys the show”.

Look down at the visible tent that is forming inside your pants and your hand that is slowly stroking itself to the beautiful yet unholy sight in front of you, another look into their eyes and you can see the arousement both girls share at your own prize.

“Come behind her jake, she feels divine” Isa elongates the last word-just the right way to get you Following her prompt, walking toward the two girls and getting behind Chaeyoung, your hands wrap around her midriff and your lips find themselves on the back of her neck causing her to quietly gasp.

With each second that your threeway makeout session was passing you could feel your pants getting tighter and your lust growing larger, enough that in a very bold move you let your palm find Isa’s right buttcock, giving it a gentle squeeze that makes her release a soft moan and take a look at you with a slutty smirk.

“You sneaky motherfucker” she playfully said, getting one of her hands off Chaeyoung's hips and wrapping it around your length. “You're hard already” she exclaims, leaving the two of you standing in front of her, wanting more from her, and from each other.

“I cant wait any longer~” Isa breathily says, giving you two a playful wink before disappearing into your bedroom. As lust quickly takes over your body you grab Chaeyoung by the hips and pull her into a kiss, and by how Chaeyoung quickly reciprocates the kiss and doesn't pull away, you can tell she wants it too.

You don't have time to process the texture of Chaeyoung lips, or how her long, soft legs are wrapped around your waist. Your only goal is to get the two of you into the bedroom, where Isa sits on your king sized bed with hungry eyes, licking her lips in anticipation. 

You let Chaeyoung get on your bed as you quickly join the two girls while tossing your shirt off to the side of the bed letting the two girls marvel at your naked chest.

“Fuck” Chaeyoung mouthed.

“Told you he was hot” Isa adds, scooting herself in front of you to get a hold of your chest before leaning in for a quick peck on your lips. “You don't mind undressing yourself, do you? me and Chae here have a show we need to give you” No answer was needed besides a nod as you went to the edge of your bed, letting the two girls begin.

It starts with kissing, slow yet sensual with Isa taking the lead by Straddling Chaeyoung's lap while one of her hands begins to glide across Chaeyoung's curves, ending at her left breast. “Fuck unnie, the things i will do to have a body like yours”.

Chaeyoung elicits a muffled moan to the soft grope Isa gives her, eyes completely shut and her and head looking up to let the pleasure take over. Soon Isa begins moving her hands all around her body, giving every inch of skin attention until eventually she stops one hand on the hem of Chaeyoung's shirt, the other supporting her from behind.

“You don't mind letting me take it off, right?” A quick nod of approval from the older one and Isa begins to slowly pull it up, moving to the right to let you see how slowly but surely more skin is revealed until finally the shirt is completely above her head giving you a clear view of Chaeyoung's black, lacy bra.

During all of this you are hard as a rock, can't take your eyes off from the two girls in front of you, even while you attempt to zip your jeans and rid them off your legs leaving you only in your briefs. You could swear you saw Isa lick her lips at the first sights of your briefs.

“Can I take yours too?” Chaeyoung's question is needy, eyes showing every sign of want to her Partner, hands are not left idle either with both of them resting on the upper part of Isa’s midriff, slightly below her two mounds.

“Of course, Unnie” she responds, leaning her body back and relaxing herself to let the older begin a strip tease of her own, every second that passes raises the sexual tension between them to a new level.

Unlike Chaeyoung, Isa’s crop top is not as loose compared to her black shirt, revealing the younger's breasts, covered with a crimson colored undergarments of her own with nipples taut from the arousal.

“Much better” Isa sighs in relief, feeling lighter without her crop top that is now thrown somewhere to the floor as once again she looks at you with a soft gaze however her mouth is anything but, painted with a sultry smile that can only speak trouble, finally with a breathy voice she playfully asks

“You're coming, Jake?”

The way Isa says your name, it's enough to let your primal instincts take over you, every red light is now turned green as you quickly pull Isa from behind into your lap, feeling her naked skin in your palms, right hand rests on her breast while the left hand goes to her thigh, rubbing and squeezing it to your heart's content.

“Oh god, yessss” Isa hisses the last word, it was clear that she enjoys every second of this, enough so that she doesnt pull away but instead leans in, meeting you in a torrid, messy makeout session, you two don't notice how Chaeyoung has already got rid of her whole bottom, only with her bra on with fingers already inside her pussy, definitely enjoying the view.

“Don't just stand there Chae, join us” This might be the most confident thing you have said this entire evening but it sure works on her since Chaeyoung now sits in front of Isa, palms massaging her clothed thighs, giving you a free hand to grope Isa’s other breast.

Those are not the same girls you met a couple of hours ago during that blind date, any semblance of innocence and fluff was left outside the door, now replaced with Lust and it's oh so clear with how Chaeyoung's eyes get aroused with each button she pops out of Isa jeans until eventually she finds her undergarment, same color as her bra with a wet spot in the middle.

Knowing what Chaeyoung was doing, Isa takes her hands into her denim jeans, lowering both the jeans and her own panties before throwing them away, leaving her creamy, thick thighs for both of you to revel in.

With the excitement in your body. You don't notice how Isa left your grasp, crawling away with a sway of her hips from side to side, now near her Chaeyoung they both look at you with an inviting smile, now giving you a chance to see both of them in their full glory.

With a devilish smirk Isa now moves behind the older girl, her eyes looking directly at you in an attempt to lure you in. Then a click can be heard as Chaeyoung’s bra now falls onto the mattress, Isa quickly joins her as now in front of you, two naked, gorgeous ladies sit in front of you.

And finally, knowing what the last piece is missing from the puzzle, you finally grab the hem of your boxers, pulling it down to let your Hardened cock stand strong and proud.

“Told you he was big” Isa exclaims, giving a small nudge to Chaeyoung with a small giggle, her friend quickly joins her.

“Yeah…so big” she mumbles quietly, her finger inside her mouth, lightly chewing on it to hold in the excitement of seeing your size. 

However, you didn't come this far with them just to watch each other naked, and they are not either as without saying a word, the two of them playfully shove you down into the mattress and get into their positions.

It starts off with Isa finding her place on your legs once again, looking directly at you with her thighs wrapped around your cock, only the tip is exposed to the air as after a flirty wink, she starts rubbing her thigh on you.

“Oh shit, Isa…” 

You groan, the rest of your voice comes out as a moan that gets her excited, you could have witnessed the obscene act of her thigh job until the end of time, however it is quickly obstructed by Chaeyoung's ass planted on your chest, her rear side all for you to view how it moves, you are not surprised why she is a model with a body as divine as hers.

“Jake…i can feel you twitching ” Isa whines, feeling your tip slightly touch her entrance is enough to let some precum leak out of your tip with you releasing another moan.

“Hey, let me have some too” Chaeyoung interrupts, taking her thumb and brushing it over your tip and grabbing some of it as you could hear how she gives it a small lick before humming cheerfully at your taste.

“Ooo, he taste good~” how the fuck did you even think this girl was innocent again?

“Can I have some unnie?”

“Sure” as if Chaeyoung’s timing was perfect, your first shot of cums leaks out of your member as she quickly gets some on her fingers. 

“Say ahhh” Chaeyoung prompts as Isa happily obliges, letting her fingers get inside her mouth, tasting . Its down right torture how you are not allowed to see what might as well be a scene from an adult film but regardless you can only enjoy the sounds, its not like you didnt do it before.

As your libido starts growing, so does your confidence as your palms firmly hold each buttcock of Chaeyoung, feeling its texture by softly squishing it, kneading it like dough causing Chaeyoung to utter a moan while arching her body back to give you all of the signals that she is enjoying it.

“Okay, this is enough teasing, we want the real thing now” Isa exclaims, Freeing your cock from the confines of her thighs giving it a breath of fresh air as now she squats over your face, giving you a clear view of her shaven pussy. Chaeyoung meanwhile heads over to sit next to your cock, still standing, waiting for the next storm to hit.

“I assume I am still not gonna get a look aren't i?” You ask, trying to sound cocky however Isa didn't say anything as she was slowly lowering her body, obstructing your view once again. With her thighs around your body and her pussy so close to your face, you let your tongue out giving her lips the first lick, just to test the waters.

“Oh fuck, yess” You hear Isa muffled moans from pleasure, feeling her ass gyrating on your tounge, enjoying every moment as you could feel the friction of her thighs on your face.

“You should join us Chaeyoung-AH, i can see him waiting just for you~” you could feel yourself getting even harder than before by the way Isa playfully invites her friend, all the while she is overtaken by pleasure. you are excited to see how Chaeyoung goes off with you, however your thoughts are stopped with a loud groan, not expecting your cock to feel the tightness of her pussy wrapped around you.

After the first contact Chaeyoung starts slowly moving up and down, each dip takes your cock deeper inside her, you could feel how each time you were inside her fluids were coating you more and more. “Oh my god Isaaaaa-” she stops her sentence, quickly releasing a sultry, husky moan. “His f-feels so good…”.

“His tongue too unnie, he is eating me out so well” Isa adds. It's nice to hear the compliment, so much that you get the confidence to start moving at your own pace, pushing your tongue inside. Meanwhile your hands grope Isa’s ass, giving you the grip to start pushing your hips in a matching pace to chaeyoung’s downward movement, Causing the two girls to scream from pleasure, holding each other in order to not collapse on the spot.

You could only Imagine how the girl’s lewd expressions were, just from the ungodly sounds, the scent of lust and cum, and the feeling of their curves on your body you could guess the fun they were having, but it would not be over until you all finally relieved yourself.

“Are you close Jake?” Isa manages to form a question while looking down, you could only respond with a muffled ‘yes’ and a nod of approval.

“I'm close too guys, i have to cum” Chaeyoung replies, releasing another moan in between bohnces it seems like you were all in on the same train of thought as you could feel yourself getting closer to your climax, even without Isa’s Ass directly on your face your view was getting hazy from ecstacy.

“Shit girls, i am going to-” you couldn't even finish the sentence before finally releasing your cum, thank god you pulled out of Chaeyoung just in time.

Your thick load goes all over their bodies, on Chaeyoung thighs, on Isa’s midriff, some even spills on your own abs, you are also not alone as they both get their own orgasm which goes all around your body, Chaeyoung coating your cock and Isa spilling around your face and abs

It takes a while but eventually you are all drained, both girls fall into each of your side, finally giving you a chance to see the two girls laid on the mattress, their bodies painted with cum from the three of you, their faces happy and satisfied.

For a couple of minutes it's quiet, the only way you communicate is with your eyes, looking at each other not with lust but instead with a warm, peaceful gaze.

Eventually Chaeyoung finally breaks the silence. “Fuck, im not a virgin but i gotta say; that is the best sex i had in my life”

“Same for me, i don't know if i want a round 2 or to stop” Isa joins between heavy pants, her hands wrap around your body as she looks at you with the same warm smile she had back when you first saw her.

“I don't know about you two, but i need a good rest after this” you manage to say as you once again lay down on the bed, eyes looking at the ceiling with each hand goes behind the girls’s back, pulling them closee to you.

“Okay then, we will start cleaning and then join you” Isa replies, letting you close your eyes and get some rest. However not before you can hear faint sounds of slurping as you open eye and see Chaeyoung's lips wrapped around the tip of your cock, isa behind holding her hair and tying it to makeshift ponytail.

“Hmm, it seems you two wanted another” you say, smiling at the two girls.

“Hey, you're still hard and we are still horny, you complain?” Isa asks, her eyes locking into yours paired with a flirty grin and a cute wink.

Something tells you that you wont get a good rest from those two girls.

[pillowspace]

Do you have any info on the ISAT Audience of Vaugarde AU you'd be willing to share? (Only if you wanna!!) :o

I'm really curious about it, I have SO many questions

During the loops, Loop would only ever see the faintest signs of a presence, but nothing that'd confirm one. They always thought it was just a bad memory springing up, like a faint scent or the faintest whisper of a familiar voice. The Audience watched everything. Sometimes, some would follow behind Siffrin into the House, while someone else would remain with Loop at the Favor Tree. Loop was rarely ever left alone. I imagine that, whenever some would follow Siffrin, they saw things they would have rather not, but there's not much to do but chat amongst themselves and spectate. It does give perspective to what Loop may have gone through though, so it's not like they wouldn't Understand Loop by the time the loops were broken.

I have nothing to say about this, I just want to note that I need to draw the bad touch event someday with Loop and Isabeau just STARING from the tree like [Live Loop Reaction] and [Live Isabeau Reaction], it's really funny to me.

Nobody was really too sure what to call Loop during the loops, constantly hesitantly switching between names. Eventually Mirabelle suggested they just stick to Loop if they can't ask, so they did. But I'd like to imagine that, once before that, Loop had caught a close familiar whisper of "Siffrin" and felt... unwell.

AFTER 2hats but BEFORE Loop reappears in the world is what this first drawing is. It's Loop's "in this moment, you are loved," but it's so hazy that it might as well have been a dream for them. Think of it like how at the start of In Stars and Time, the star is shown being eaten, and Siffrin wakes up.

Loop's still in Vauguarde, but they have NO idea where they are when they wake up. Their head is human, but not the rest of their body. Their hair is long and tangled and greasy, as if their hair had always been growing just out of sight. Some sort of barrier has been broken between Loop and the Audience, so as the days pass, the voices slowly grow clearer, and Loop starts slowly... seeing things.

Loop needs somewhere to stay, so an older woman lets them stay at her house. Let's call herrrr... Smithing One?? This is only a temporary arrangement.

If I draw Loop with really messy greasy hair and little to no clothing, that's the stage in which Loop is deeply afraid of any sign of the Audience's company. Example from a previous drawing:

If I draw Loop with hair slightly better taken care of and in a headband holding the overgrown middle piece back, Loop's now tense and nervous around the Audience but won't panic anymore, and will often communicate back. (Note: don't interpret this as Loop not liking them! Loop loves them very deeply and suffered a lot of grief, there's just a lot of feelings of fear and reopened wounds clashing.) I think maybe partway through this stage, Loop leaves Smithing One's house to go travel. Example from a previous drawing:

There is a stage I haven't drawn yet where Loop is entirely happy with the Audience and a lot more healed. I'm guessing Loop will have a high ponytail, and some hair accessory holding back the middle piece or something like that. I would like to draw that at some point.

After learning that Loop can't handle being called Siffrin and is only settling for the mild discomfort "Loop" brings, Odile will start calling them Little Crow, as per chipper-smol's reply:

I'm out of things to mention honestly, feel free to ask whatever you want

OH yeah. By the way, I do want Loop and Siffrin to reunite at some point, I'm just not sure how yet... The thing is, the Audience isn't actually ghosts. They're LIKE ghosts, but they're not dead. As I've said, Loop's first wish to stay with their friends simply merged with their second wish for help, so the Audience is more so just oddly disconnected from reality. Maybe after a lot of time has passed, the Audience is so tangible that anyone can see them, even if they have a little bit of an off air to them (and maybe they still can vanish at will). So... surprise! Siffrin's party would eventually realize that they ALSO have alternate versions of themselves walking around. Ohhh wait, wouldn't it be fun if one accidentally met their clone in a public place before ever even being aware of Loop's supposed "audience"? And Siffrin never wanted to talk about Loop's business to his family, so they never even found out what Loop was at all? Something in me tells me that it'd be most fun for it to be the Mirabelles to spot each other first

...............okay, now I'm out of things to mention

[dawndelion-winery]

L for Loser Lover

They're not normally this...pathetic. Really, it's just the way love brings out the worst in people

Ft. Alhaitham, Childe, Scaramouche (Wanderer)

Alhaitham:

Cold, curt, and ever on top of things, he's not exactly what anyone would picture when asked to imagine a doting lover

For someone who knew over twenty languages, he sure didn't have a clue on how to use any of them

At least, that's how people would think his love life would go

So just what was that flower crown of woven roses doing atop his head?

And the funky chicken looking thing sewn onto his handkerchief???

"It's not a chicken, it's an eagle. My lover embroidered it for me earlier this year on Valentine's Day."

Wow, he sure sounded proud of that

Was that a ghost of a smile on his lips? A faint giggle?

Dear archons the world must be ending

Childe:

Puppy love! Except it's more of an orange cat

Now, he wouldn't scream for attention

Actually, he just might

He's beating up some abyssal beast and suddenly he's pausing to shout for you

Y'know, just in case you weren't watching how cool he was

Some vicious weapon of war he is, slashing away at rifthounds and vishaps alike with that manic emptiness in his eyes

Which glints with a brief sparkle of excitement when he calls your name

He's disgustingly whipped and he can't even be insulted for it

Just try and point out how his eyes only light up when he talks about you, the softness in his features akin to the expression he makes when speaking of his family

"Maybe you're just seeing yourself in my eyes...you're the light of my life, after all."

Scaramouche:

Emotional constipation atop the urge to adore you isn't a good look on him

He's so clearly trying to seem unaffected by you and it's even clearer that it isn't working

You're so lovely to him it's actually disgusting and he wants to throw up

Stunning, breathtaking, spectacular, gorgeous...they don't even begin to describe you, and he starts to hate it

What do you mean you don't understand what he means when he says he can't really call you winsome or ravishing?

It's annoying to him beyond belief

"Can you sum up a sunrise with a simple "It's bewitching"? Beguiling doesn't even begin to explain the hold you have on me. Your stupid face...I don't want to look at anyone or anything else if it were an option. Your pulchritude has no comparison...so much so that even if I wanted to like it to anything to help you understand, it can't..."

Yeah, no, he's not elaborating beyond that

If you've gotten him riled up to the point of that sort of monologue...chances are you've lost your pet name privileges for at least a week

Expect terms of endearment to be replaced by "dumbass" or "idiot"

Taglist: @ryuryuryuyurboat @yinyinggie @mx-kamisato @chaosinanutshell @haliyarobin @irethepotato @boundedbyfate @favonius-captain @aqui-soba @tiredsleep @sadlonelybagel @mastering-procrastinating @lemeowade

[justanother-janedoe]

Marry You

Summary: What does the person the lawyer who's known what she's wanted all her life decide to do for her wedding? Seriously, what does she do?

Word Count: 1.2k

Harvey Specter x Reader (she/her)

*This isn't really set in a specific time on Suits; just somewhat near the last few seasons. It's been a while since I've watched it but I really wanted to post this story idea so I hope you enjoy.

From a young age you always knew what you wanted. At 7 you realized you wanted to become a lawyer. At 16 you decided to attend Harvard. And when taking your first steps into Pearson Hardman, meeting the 'Harvey Specter', there you knew from his iconic smirk he'd be an important person in your life.

So when you couldn’t make a single decision for the wedding this made Donna, concerned to say the least. 

At Donna's desk early in the morning

“Special order for one Donna Paulsen.'' Rachel said, placing the coffee cup in front of an exhausted Donna. 

“You're an angel.” Donna says looking frustrated 

"I got your SOS. What's wrong?" Rachel said, looking worried. 

"Wedding plans."

“Is there too much to do? I told you if you need any help at all I’ll be there-”

“No, that’s the thing. We haven’t made a single decision yet.”

"I mean it does take time to plan a whole wedding."

"But it's been months; you would think by now we’d have an idea for a theme. All we’ve done is look at tons of cake flavors, venue options, themes; but nothing seems to resonate with her.” Donna said, pulling out binder after binder of wedding decisions. 

It seemed that whenever they’d go over planning you would avoid it, trying to push finalizing for another time. (Not picking a wedding season, let alone date).

"Yeah, that's a bit weird..."

"I know."

"So why don't you talk to her about it?"

"It's just. Ever since she asked me to be her maid of honor I knew I'd do anything to give her the wedding of her dreams. But she's rather focus on her cases than sit down and make a decision. I'm just feeling so frustrated. I want to help her but I can't." Donna said, laying her head behind the stack of binders, eyes fluttering from tiredness. 

"Look. Why don't we just put this aside and see how tomorrow goes.” Rachel said, pushing the binders away. 

“We're all going wedding dress shopping, maybe once she tries on a couple of dresses she’ll get a clearer idea of what kind of wedding she wants."

"You're right."

"I always am."

"Hey, that's my line!" Donna exclaimed.

At a brand named wedding dress shop the next day

As the consultant described the dress you had on you couldn't help but feel odd. Not that the dress was bad. But with every gown you couldn't envision yourself walking down the aisle in any of them.

"So what do you think?" the consultant asked the room, waking you from your thoughts.

"It's beautiful."

"You look gorgeous."

"I'm bored."

"Louis!" Donna lightly scolded.

"Not of this but the dress. It just doesn't radiate how special she is. How is she supposed to take photos, smile happily, and look back fondly at this moment in her life when all she's wearing is this boring thing."

"Sir this is an Oscar De La Renta-" the consultant tried to pitch in.

"And this is about to be Miss Specter so I suggest we look at some other dresses to save us from wasting our time at this establishment." Louis said, turning away in frustration.

In the dressing room

"That Louis Specter sure sounds like a handful." the consultant said assisting you.

"Oh God if he heard you call him that. His ego is already inflated-" you said grinning at the consultant's assumptions about your relationship; probably more normal than the reality.

"I need to speak with you." Louis spoke after he knocked on the changing room door.

"Does it have to be right now?"

"Yes it's an emergency!"

"Could you please give us a moment?" you asked the consultant who promptly left.

"What's wrong?"

"This!" Louis said, pointing at you exasperated.

"You've lost me."

"What I mean is my two best friends are getting married to each other. You both aren’t treating this as passionately as you do in your cases. I’ve seen more fire in your eyes when defending clients than today. I mean I am truly concerned as Harvey's best man.-"

"Okay Louis. Calm down." you said, holding onto Louis' shoulders but clearly growing worried from his speech. While a part of her wanted to jest about Louis' borderline obsessive view on her, he was right. 

“I appreciate your candor, truly. I’m just… feeling a bit lost at the moment.”

“Should I call Harvey then. I mean he’d probably ignore me but I could get Donna to-”

"No Louis. I do want to marry Harvey. I swear I do."

"That's exactly what I wanna hear, especially on that big day."

“Thanks Louis.”

“Of course. I mean we really need to get your mojo back if I’m buying your dress.”

“Buying my-Louis you don’t have to do that.”

“Don’t even worry about the price. I offered to pay for Harvey too but he said he didn’t want me finding out about where he gets his suits…”

As Louis went on talking like he always did you felt appreciative of the deep caring nature he had; even if it was a bit eccentric. 

Late night in you’s Office

"You know working such late hours like this isn’t beneficial to your health right?" Harvey said, leaning against you’s door frame to her office.

“We’ll then. I guess I’ll have to fight the case beyond the grave.” you said, getting up to properly greet Harvey. As you gives him a quick peck on the lips he holds onto you a bit longer. 

“Hold on." Harvey said guiding you both to the couch in your office.

"So I might have overhead from a couple birds that you’ve been having a bit of trouble with the wedding planning. Now I know I’ve been gone for an unbelievable amount of time, but I just want you to know that you could tell me anything."

Harvey said looking at you tenderly.

"Seriously. Whether you wanted to elope or take 12 years until we have the perfect wedding; I'll support your choice no matter what." Harvey joked.

"We'll I don't think I'll take that long... I guess a part of me wants to blame it on you for leaving but deep down I know this life we chose isn’t exactly flexible.”

You started unraveling your nervous feeling on the wedding.

“ I’m just a bit overwhelmed by the fact that we’re officially together.”

“So these last few years we’re just a friendship?” Harvey jokes to lighten the mood.

“Yeah didn’t you get the memo. I guess it was misspelled. I meant best friend not boyfriend.” you joked along. 

“What I mean is for most of my life I never had to think of others. God I sound so selfish for saying that; but it’s true. The choices I’ve made have been simple to make because I knew everything it'd entail. Any other option would be pointless... While marrying you, being together has been-"

"Amazing, spectacular, just grand..." Harvey interjected to brighten your mood like he always knew how to.

"Yes. Planning a wedding though; I have no idea what I want for us. I mean there are so many flavors of cake and decorations to consider-"

"That's probably on me actually." Harvey said, referring to his business trip

"You think." you said sarcastically.

"I know going with Mike to set up in Seattle before planning our wedding wasn't the brightest decision. But I'd like to make it up to you. Because I really do want to marry you. From now on I'll be right beside you."

"Thank you Harvey."

"I mean it. " Harvey said holding both your hands and looking at you intently.

"I know you've had to make decisions for yourself for the most part but I just want you to know... Your not alone anymore. For all the parts you feel unsure of in life, I'll be there to catch you and push you back up again."

"That was so beautiful. Did you plan that?"

"That may or may not be a couple lines from my vows. Just act surprised when you hear them on the day. Speaking of what do you think about November?"

"For the wedding?"

"Yeah it's right around the time we started to get to know eachother..."

"You're such a romantic Harvey Spector."

"We'll your about to marry me so what does that say about you."

"We're just a couple of romantics I guess." you say as Harvey kisses you deeply.

Breaking the kiss you exhaled a breath. “You're relentless.”

“Well I’m sure it's one of the things you find attractive about me.” he said walking to her office couch; looking romantically into her eyes.

“I could think of a couple more things.” she said walking in a way Harvey thought was iconic. Like a scene in a movie. 

“PG-13?” he asked, stroking you’s arm as she sat on his lap.

“More like rated R.” she said, hands holding his face.

“Kinky.” he said, kissing her. If he were to tell others the way she made him feel, he’d be dubbed a romantic. But the truth was every time Harvey and you kissed it felt like the world faded like that scene in West Side Story. 

“While being caught and embarrassed by the whole office sounds like an interesting night, why don’t we go home?” you said, getting up from their close position.

“As if this office hasn’t seen worse things.” Harvey said, smiling in that playful way that made you feel light. Grabbing you’s coat as you went to get your purse putting you’s coat on for you. Turning around and giving Harvey a peck as you walked together.

Feeling relaxed and lonely no more you we're now exited not only to plan the wedding with Harvey but spend your future together. Knowing that while the future may hold some unpredictable moments you can share them with Harvey by your side.

Author’s Notes

Hello, thank you so much for reading this. If your familiar with my work you may know that I’ve been absent for a long time. But I’m motivated again to write. This may not be my best work but I feel proud of this. 

If your interested in a part 2 or more Harvey Specter stories let me know.

Anyways I hope you have a good day.

:)

[gumbootillustrations]

dame katelyn de feu my beloved 😭😭😭

more bits under the cut!!

katelyn first shows up to phoenix drop towards the end of season one under similar circumstances to canon mcd - jeffory's about to be executed for treason, and she's desperately trying to get his name cleared before he dies. however, when it becomes clearer and clearer to her that zane's using him as a scapegoat, she decides to turn on him and side with aphmau and the phoenix alliance ahead of the battle for phoenix drop.

in ashes, ashes, jurors were originally ordained through the bestowal of relics - however, after they went missing a couple of centuries after the first war of the magi, they pretty much became just. super politically powerful guards until about twenty years before the start of ashes, ashes, when the high priest of o'khasis at the time (zane's predecessor) figured out a way to bestow the powers of the juror relics to the jurors without using the relics themselves. anyway, its blood magick and it essentially brands the jurors with a seven-pointed star on their foreheads as a mark of the ritual being completed. katelyn hates what the ritual has turned her into - even though long hair is lowkey pretty impractical in a fight, she keeps hers long so that her mark is hidden (jeffory did the same, and garroth will also grow his hair out a little to cover his mark). when she transforms, a lot of the saturation in her skin in hair is drained out due to the magick not being suuuper holy (in fact, the first casting of the ritual upset the balance of the universe so much that it woke up the primordial gods n they sicked a plague on o'khasis that garte would later blame on tu'lan biological warfare). additionally, because the magick of the ritual sort of like. blends in? with any magicks or witchcraft already present in the juror their juror form will reflect this - katelyn has fire magicks, so when she transforms, her hair turns into this sort of sickly pale blue fire. her fire is hot enough that it burns blue anyway, but yeah.

katelyn burns her juror armour the minute she can once everyone gets out of the irene dimension. for a while, she just wears whatever she can scrounge up from around phoenix drop, but when cadenza finds out about this she gives katelyn this outfit! it's definitely done out of the kindness of her heart, there definitely aren't any ulterior motives don't worry. it's a lot more of a mercenary-ish look compared to her juror armour, but katelyn likes it just fine - especially since a certain flame-haired seamstress with a winning smile made it especially for her.

a little headcanon i have about katelyn - i feel like even though she isn't great at sewing, having grown up in a minor noble house in o'khasis, i feel like she would have some skills with textiles. specifically, i feel like she'd knit and/or crochet in her down time! before everyone heads out to gal'ruk, she knits everyone some mittens/scarves/socks/etc. not sweaters, though - she's loathe to admit it, but she's a firm believer in the sweater curse. otherwise, nothing much changes except that she throws on a coat and calls it a day - i like to think that, similar to laurance, she runs a little hotter than most people due to her fire magicks sort of acting as a bit of an internal furnace, so she doesn't need to bundle up quite as much as the others.

her day-to-day outfit is pretty much her standard guard outfit without the armour. she does wear an underbust corset/belt/thing with a small pouch attached, though - its very useful for carrying around knickknacks n stuff. otherwise, there's not much else to really comment on? idk. i probably shouldve added in some scars on her arms but its 11:30 pm at the time im writing this n ive spent way too long on this dang ref sheet already so yeah.

i decided to change up her conqueror form quite a bit - the form i drew in my original lineup of the second war's divine warriors wasn't really katelyn n looking back on it i shouldve spent more time trying to get it right. anyway, katelyn's mother was from southern tu'la, and was from a merchant family with some distant blood ties to the royal family - katelyn is technically related to the king of tu'la, but the relation is so distant that she doesn't really consider him (or any of the tu'lan nobles, really) to be blood relations. it's through this lineage, though, that she's able to resonate with menphia's relic, although it definitely helps that she's the second war's incarnation of the conqueror. mostly, the design notes from her first conqueror design remain the same - all i've really done is change the colour palette.

aaaand some headshots. i haven't exactly worked out how she got her facial scars - the big one was probably gotten on her first major assignment as a juror. however, it's nasty enough that when it healed it sort of fucked up her facial muscles - the scar tissue has permanently warped the right side of her mouth into a grimace, so anytime she makes a facial expression it's pretty lopsided (it's especially noticeable when she smiles). also, i changed the titling system for the jury to be more similar to the commonwealth knighthood system? like as much as i think "lady katelyn" is sick as fuck, the fact that it's the same title used for the female spouses of lords just sorta,,, didn't sit right? i guess? so yeah. dame katelyn.

anyway, feel free to ask questions if u want! :D

[made-this-cause-why-not]

How I would re-write Supergirl Season 2/3

(as some one who stopped watching after season three, and also has not rewatched the series since 2020) (reign arc and heroes of the week will remain unchanged)

So, starting off strong, at Alex and Maggie would not have gotten engaged. Season 2 finale would have been Maggie realizing she was rushing into things, Alex being all "no I love you, I know I do" and Maggie being like "there is a whole gay world for you to explore... go do it." This would lead to sadness, a bit of tears (Chyler and Floriana would be AMAZING- daytime emmy nominee worthy performance).

Rhea would reveal Kara's identity to Lena in the finale. It would be casual too, she would be like "you are much better for my son Lena, that kryptonian isn't worth her weight in dirt here. I can't believe he would settle for a lowly slave." And then Lena would be all "reporter" and Rhea would be like "Yes Kara Danver's, former slave to a, Cat Grant I believe her name is" and then Rhea would continue on her spiel and there would be a cut scene as the camera focuses on Lena taking in the information

They save the day- Monel leaves for what ever reason he had to leave- don't remember, don't care. Also, Kara and Mon-el would have never dated, he would have just pined for her and James and Winn would be all "join the club"

Season 3

Alex mourned over her first lesbian relationship over the 6 month gap between seasons, Lena hasn't told Kara she knows.

First DEO scene of Season 3 is Alex talking to Kara (and invertedly Winn and James) about her most recent date on an app. It went bad, Winn chimes in like "what was it this time" and Alex is like "she was weirdly into ___" then J'onn walks in, like "Alex I am sorry to interrupt but there are pressing matter to attend to- there is a meta human down town" (que hero of the week intro)

Lena and Kara hang out, audience find out that Lena hasn't told Kara cause Kara has to leave to deal with a alien and does the usual "uh, I hear my named being called, ugh bye" and Lena just smiles and nodds, and sighs wistfully, staring after her (supercorp shippers go crazy)

Ep 2 or three we first see Sam and Ruby in line for Noonan's or something (why did they establish that as a brand, just to immediately ditch it after season 1???) and it's just a cute simple little "Hi, I'm Alex, let me help you out" but Sam is endeared and Ruby just smiles because (I love Ruby but honestly) she didn't have that much of a personality early on in the season

That same ep we see Lena reuniting with Sam. After that, when ever Sam and Lena meet each other (I don't remember when or how) Kara and Lena are like "you two know each other" and Alex is all blushy like "yeah, Kinda, I mean, not really" and Sam is like "yeah, Lena she is the girl from the place". Sam and Lena share a look (agent reign shippers go crazy)

Sprinkles of supercorp here and there- Just Kara and Lena doing their normal friend shit but Kara being like "woah, I am feeling things maybe"

At ep 8 or so Kara is at the bar with Alex and ask her how she knew with Maggie, that she liked Maggie. And Alex is all "well, I guess I always knew I liked girls but it was always objective. Like, I would think, she is so kind and smart and beautiful and amazing, any guy would be lucky to have her. But something about Maggie just forced me to realize that I was the one feeling these things, not some guy. I don't know, something about her just made alot of things clearer. Like, I realized I was the one driving the car, not a passenger. She made me stop being so passive in my own life" and Kara is quiet the whole time. Alex then ask "why" and Kara is all "no reason". Cut to Lena at L-Corp working on something relevant to the plot (supercorp shippers go crazy) (that conversation inspires Alex to ask Sam out- they then start to date)

Next ep, Kara goes to Lena's office, and is all, "there is something I need to tell you" and Lena is all "I already know" and Kara is shocked an all "how do you know" and Lena is like "in hindsight it was obvious. *list of things that hold double meanings cause miscommunication trope*" "Lee- I would have told you earlier but I-" "It's fine, I get it. You were doing it to protect me" "protect you???" "yeah- you're supergirl". Que Kara sighing and then freaking out, Lena saying Rhea told her, Kara being pulled away by some kind of supe situation, and Lena being all "go get them supergirl"

Kara admits her feelings at the end of the episode. Lena is shocked, but agrees. They agree to go on a date, a real romantic date and not a friend one, but oops- it's ep 9 which means Kara fights reign, goes comatose and then we get angsty, driven lena being like "we gotta fix Kara"

From then on, the show goes like usual, but Alex and Sam are dating and Kara and Lena are as well. The show ends with Season 3, Alex leads Deo, Winn stays but James leaves to help in the future but it really doesn't matter because the show it over. Supercorp is canon, Alex and Sam have a daughter and everyone lives happily ever after.

Edit: forgot to say this orginally but more Cat cameos. I love that woman so much- she has to come back at least twice in season 3 and be like "I leave the city for five minutes and you let her do WHAT? Agent Scully, why on EARTH would you let your sister fight a world killer??? Have you no brains under that thick skull" or something. I just want for her to be there, see Kara and Lena together and pull out of peice of paper from her purse that says "gay" and be like "I knew when you first walked into my office. No straight women would willingly be yelled at that often" or something. Idk, she was just very deeply missed

[philliam-writes]

you are in the earth of me [01]

Pairing: Anthony Lockwood x fem!Reader

Content: cot3 +1 (and kipps), canon-typical violence & horror, loss of family member (not just Lockwood), found family, touch starved Lockwood, childhood friends Kipps & Reader, childhood trauma, slow burn, rivals to lovers (if this stays a Lockwood/Reader), mature language (swearing), aged up characters (everybody's in their early 20s; Kipps is mid-20s), fem! Reader though pronouns are used sparingly and no use of y/n

Summary: “Ton—Anfonie ‘Ockwoo’.” You nod, and finally swallow your mouthful of food. “I’ve heard things about you.” Lockwood’s dark eyes slide over to Kipps for a second, glinting like a knife drawn out of its sheath. He gives you a nice, easy smile. “Only good things, I presume?” You feel your face scrunch up at the memory of Kipps’s curses, threats and very imaginative ways of what he’d do with his rapier and a very specific part of Lockwood’s body. “Yeah, uhm … things.”

Notes: [02]

Words: 5.1k

A/N: Words will never suffice how much Lockwood & Co. has carried me through some of the toughest parts of my life. To see it adapted to a show is SO EXCITING, I couldn't help but be a little self-indulgent and plan out a whole ass story for my favourite three (+ Kipps) ghost hunters. So here we go.

This could either stay a Lockwood/fem!Reader or I could easily change it into Locklyle or even freaking poly cot3 x Reader or just Locklyle depending on what people want to read. I'm fine with pretty much everything; I just want my silly little Reader joining 35 Portland Row because I am in DIRE NEED OF FOUND FAMILY AND JUST SELF-INDULGENT GHOST HUNTING

So yeah, I'm totally open to people requesting Locklyle or anything for this one, but it's still gonna be from Reader's POV and focusing on an original story with action and characters studies and personal growth. Also sorry for any mistakes, English isn't my first language and I'd be super happy if someone offered to become my beta-reader for this! Any feedback is super super appreciated!!

01: let the dead hollers hum

when i first saw you, the end was soon to bethlehem it slouched and then it must've caught a good look at you

—hozier: nfwmb

At almost two in the morning the streets should be empty of people and cars, yet you manage to nearly get hit by a night cab turning down Tredegar Road. Its ghastly horn echoes like the wail of a Banshee through the dark, disturbing the peaceful night. Across the street, a kitchen light flickers to life inside a building. A shadow moves behind the white curtains, pausing for a second to look out at the street.

Bracing against the cutting wind, you turn up your maroon trenchcoat’s collar and duck your head like a turtle trying to hide inside its shell. It would have been much colder without your gloves now that the early winter bite is coming, but it’s still very unpleasant to be outside after the sun has set. Today is a clearer night, despite the day of rain; the moon chases stray wisps of cloud across an otherwise unmarked black sky.

London turns in earlier than usual now that the nights grow longer and colder—and more dangerous as well. Just yesterday you heard two more night-watch kids have succumbed to ghost-lock down at the warehouses near Blackfriars when they got distracted trying to warm up from the freezing evening rain that had set in after eleven. They turned into easy pickings for a Drowner lurking beneath the docs—former scoundrels who ended their sorry lives in the water by drowning. They rarely make a pleasant sight with their bloated limbs and skin wrinkled so hard it is peeling off like layers of paint.

It makes you glad to feel the familiar weight of your rapier hanging from your hip holster, to know that just within short reach, everything you need to protect yourself is at your disposal. That and the salt bombs around your belt. It’s hard not to feel safe while carrying around something with ‘bomb��� in its name.

You find the meeting point you’ve been summoned to at the end of the street. The Green Goose is a two-floor building with the restaurant at the bottom and what you can only assume the storage and other facilities upstairs. All sun-blinds on the first floor are drawn shut.

Few London establishments are open during the night, and fewest of all in the dark hours before the dawn. But places like this, catering for agents or night-watch kids, are easily recognised by the additional fortification against possibly unwanted visitors. High up where the first floor meets the second, heavy mistletoe bushes run around the whole building like a gigantic garland. You imagine in summer this would be lavender blooms, plunging the whole street into their thick, sweet scent. The door and windows are laced with iron grilles, and overhung with battered ghost-lamps. A few wooden dining tables and benches remain vacated outside, left to their own until the warmth of spring returns.

After a first glance inside the premise through the grimy windows, you don’t spot your friend. How much easier this would be if you could carry a phone around, just to check if you are at the right place. Now all you have to go on is his cryptic call before your shift started this morning, and a vague sense of the kind of establishments he likes based to his tastes.

Good thing you have known him for almost a decade.

But that doesn’t really give you an idea what exactly Quill Kipps wants from you. Maybe help with a case? Or he has finally realised he has a crush on his co-worker, that lemony-smelling Kat or Kate, and now he needs advice. Not hanging out at the dead of the night would be a preferable start.

Small bells jingle when you push the door open with your shoulder, and a waft of warm air scented with grease and coffee hits your nose, bringing heat back to your face. It looks a lot smaller than from the outside, narrow and with the sitting area stretched in an L-shape around the bar and counter in the middle. Behind that a pair of slightly askew doors lead to the kitchen where you can hear a radio play.

The first row of tables line alongside the window, then disappear further into the back. In the corner, two night-watch kids sit huddled together, quietly snoring and drooling on each other’s shoulders with their meagre food spread before them. A waitress with short black hair and a chubby chin standing behind the counter looks up from a magazine, stares at you, and blows out a baby-blue bubble of gum until it pops loudly.

She raises an eyebrow.

You raise one back at her.

From the other side of the entrance, you hear Kipps calling your name. At that, the waitress gives you a single, polite nod which you answer alike, as though you are two cowboys engaged in a stand-off who don’t want to shoot each other.

Marching down the narrow aisle, you pass an occupied table and accidentally bump into it. Cutlery rattles against an empty plate. You mumble a half-hearted apology and move on, barely listening to the grumbled answer or really looking at the man clad in black sitting there. He gives of a sweet, heavy scent you can’t really place, and quickly move on.

Knowing you’d arrive in a foul mood, Kipps has already ordered your favourite midnight snack after a hard day’s work: coffee and a simple English breakfast with a fried egg, hot and greasy sausages, crispy bacon, tomatoes and mushrooms on the side.

“It better be important, Kippy,” you say in lieu of hello, manoeuvring over his lap to the unoccupied seat by the window, using elbows and knees to execute a complicated dance with him so you can squeeze into the narrow booth. He grunts and makes barely any effort to make you room. His outstretched legs take up a disproportionate amount of real estate. “I got a ten hour shift behind me and I’m desperate for my bed.”

“You certainly smell like after a ten hour shift,” he comments, wrinkling his nose. Of course he looks well kempt and neat as always with not a single ginger curl on his head out of order. But there are dark circles under his eyes as though someone put a charcoal pen to his skin, betraying his tidy appearance. His eyes flit over your face for a second, scanning it for any injuries.

You give him your best shit-eating grin and wolf down on your eggs when someone clears his throat from across the table—and that’s when you realise Kipps isn’t alone.

Nursing a cup of tea, opposite you sits a young man in a black suit, slender and tall, his short, unruly hair swept back elegantly. He watches you with mild interest, his thin lips slightly pursed, like someone would watch a flock of hungry pigeons plunge towards bread crumbs spread by tourists at Hyde Park—nothing out of order. Just another regular sight in the big city on a late afternoon stroll.

You hold his steady, dark eyes when you bite into your egg, feeling the yolk escape at the corners of your mouth and run down your chin. You didn’t even realise how much you were starving.

“Hwo’sh yor fren’, ‘Ippy?” you ask with your mouth full because you have absolutely zero shame.

Kipps swallows a groan.

“Yes, Kippy,” the young man replies with the most soothing, alluring voice you have ever heard, as though he’s eaten silk and honey for breakfast. “Why don’t you introduce us?”

Kipps makes a disapproving noise in the back of his throat. Annoyance radiates off him stronger than any other-light you have seen on apparitions. “Friend is a bit much,” he says slowly, as though he has to talk around the word ‘friend’ because it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. “That’s Lockwood.” You recognise his tone. It sounds a lot as if he’s saying That’s the biggest nuisance of my life.

The effect is pretty much the same.

You nearly choke on your next bite and aim for the coffee to wash it down. When you jerk your head around to stare at Kipps in disbelief, your eyes stretch wider than the dinner plate before you. Kipps must read what’s written on your face: That’s Lockwood? Tony Lockwood you can’t shut up about? Your arch-nemesis?

Kipps rolls his eyes so hard it must give him a spectacular view of his skull. Just humour me, his expression says.

“Ton—Anfonie ‘Ockwoo’.” You nod, and finally swallow your mouthful of food. “I’ve heard things about you.”

Lockwood’s dark eyes slide over to Kipps for a second, glinting like a knife drawn out of its sheath. He gives you a nice, easy smile. “Only good things, I presume?”

You feel your face scrunch up at the memory of Kipps’s curses, threats and very imaginative ways of what he’d do with his rapier and a very specific part of Lockwood’s body. “Yeah, uhm … things.”

Lockwood seems to understand, for he doesn’t inquire further, but his smile seems to freeze a little at the corners. “And you are?”

“Kipps’s friend.” You stuff the rest of your toast into your mouth and give your name. Lockwood blinks and keeps a polite smile, and doesn’t ask even though you’re sure he didn’t understand a word you just said.

“I wasn’t aware Kipps has friends.” Lockwood’s eyes have taken on a taunting glint, and he leans forward as he speaks. “Certainly not friends at Rotwell.”

His eyes drop to the crest stitched onto the upper part of your sleeve on your trench-coat: a snarling lion holding a rapier in its front paw—the agency’s symbol—before he gives Kipps a pointed look as though that small detail would have been worth mentioning before they got up to whatever this is.

Kipps ignores him. “I called you because I need your help,” he says, sliding napkins over to you which you promptly ignore. “I need your Talent.”

You halt at that and give him a long, level look. Kipps doesn’t shy away from the weight of your gaze, and suddenly you become painfully aware of the tension surrounding them, thick enough you could cut it with your dull knife.

Slowly, you chew your sausage. “What exactly are we talking about?” you ask, voice quieter, matching Kipps’s. He’s doing that little wiggle in his seat, shifting his weight from left to right he always does when bracing for potential conflict. When he trails his eyes away from you, you follow them to Lockwood who is looking at Kipps as though seeing him for the first time.

From the pockets of his long, black coat, Lockwood pulls out a small wooden box. It would easily fit into the palm of your hand, and from where you sit you can’t see a particular design or anything on the surface. Lockwood slides the box across the table towards you, flips it over with his long, slender fingers, and opens the lid, revealing a small bronze key lying on a cushion surrounded by thin iron plates.

You stare at it for five, six seconds. Then reach out to take another big swig of your coffee. With no sugar, acidly bitter taste explodes on your tongue, just the way you like it.

“It’s a Source,” you say. “You just carry a Source around like that?”

“Exceptional observation skills,” Lockwood says with the mild tone of someone barely holding back his impatience. “I can see why you asked her to join us, Kippy.”

“I can see why Kipps wants to shove his rapier up your—”

“Trust me, I’d be the last one missing out on a chance to ridicule Lockwood,” Kipps interrupts, tapping a finger on the table in front of the box, “but Barnes wants results by tomorrow and I’d like to act like professionals for once, so can we please focus?”

Lockwood and you throw a mirror glare at Kipps that’s something along the lines of You’re one to talk. When you notice each other’s similar expressions, Lockwood quickly schools his features back to a neutral one. “It is secure inside its seal for now, but the Visitor contained in it is not particularly strong. If we’re quick, it won’t have time to come through,” he says.

You shake your head. “You’re mad. And you—” you knock your knee against Kipps’s—“what’s wrong with you for going along with this?”

“There’s just … not enough time,” Kipps says. Exhaustion seeps into his voice, strong enough to peel back layers of caution for he shares a quick glance with Lockwood and what they don’t say screams so loudly that you have to lean back and re-evaluate what you’ve known about their relationship up until now.

It seems that Kipps has missed out on filling you in on some crucial details about the past few weeks he has worked at Kensal Green Cemetery.

“Then why don’t you just tell me what this is about?” you say, looking over at Kipps sharply. “Why does Barnes need you both to work on it? Is it a Fittes job? Did Bobby get his greasy little hands on something and—”

“Actually,” Lockwood chimes in, “it is our case. Lockwood & Co. Kipps is … an associate. And we’re very short on time to solve this case. Let’s just say Kipps has a little favour to repay. We need someone who excels at Touch, and he said you are the best at it. You might be our last chance to find out more about this key.” He has switched from that arrogant drawl to a soft, melodic cadence with that maddeningly smooth voice of his. It has to be intentional—he is trying to play you like a fiddle with that charm he switched on like an industrial bulb.

“What’s there to solve? You got the Source, you sealed it. That’s all there is. This should be on its way to a furnace right now.” You fall back into your seat, eyes raking over Lockwood’s form. He doesn’t even wear a uniform for Christ’s sake. “And you call yourself an agent?”

And just like that the light goes out, the switch flicks off. Lockwood’s face is calm; the only sign of his agitation is a pulse hammering in his throat and a muscle twitching in his jaw.

Kipps shifts in his seat. “We can’t give it to Barnes yet,” he says in a quiet voice, wrenching your eyes away from the glaring contest you have engaged in with Lockwood. Kipps presses his lips into a thin line, and you can see the mental strain it takes on him to agree with something Lockwood said. His handsome face crumples as though he has bitten into a lemon. “We believe the murder of that Visitor is still out there.”

You digest that. Go in for some more food. It takes a lot more effort to swallow your bacon. “Even more reason to just leave it to Inspector Barnes and DEPRAC. Exactly why is this your responsibility?”

“Justice for the dead?” Kipps offers.

“Protecting the living?” Lockwood states nobly.

It sounds like a load of crap, but you are too sleep-deprived to bother figuring out what truly is at stake for them. Maybe another stupid bet, or whatever favour Kipps owes Lockwood from the last.

You run a hand through your hair, bobbing your leg up and down in a frantic rhythm. It isn’t your favourite thing to do, but you have always had a hard time telling Kipps no—and God knows he has done so much for you.

“You owe me,” you tell him. Kipps nods, and visibly relaxes with relief.

“Do you need me to—” he starts, sliding his hand across the seat and offering it to you. From across the table, you hear the seat’s leather creak as Lockwood leans forward to get a better look at what you are doing. It reminds you of a hound scenting blood in the air and going out on the hunt for its prey.

“No, I’m good. I’m not taking my gloves off anyway.” You don’t like using your Talent without anything to ground you, but there is something about the way Lockwood is looking at you two, hungry almost, as though he is categorizing a particular fascinating information to dissect it later and see what use he can draw from it. Best to just ignore him. Besides, without your gloves, you feel naked, vulnerable. This isn’t something for prying eyes—and Lockwood has an awfully piercing, scrutinising pair of unfathomably dark eyes you are not interested at all to get lost in.

You lean back into the seat and get comfortable first. It never works when you go in too tense because it takes more effort to peel away the wards of your consciousness. When Kipps takes the key and plays it into your open palm, you focus on its weight first—akin to a bird bone, you barely feel it through the thick fabric of your glove.

Which doesn’t mean it isn’t heavy. The energy radiating off this thing is like a physical force pushing you back into the backrest of your seat. You close your eyes and focus on the low thrum of energy—feelings and impressions wash over you in torrents, layer after layer. Your chest feels heavy. Your stomach clenches in a hard, tight knot—fear. Fear grips you in a tight, cold grip.

Something is lurking, far far back, something unfathomably dark and abysmal but you can’t get a hold od if through your gloves and as you begin to sift through the chaotic blur of emotions to find the source—so much darkness, so much death; good Lord the things people did to get their hands on—

Excitement. A lingering echo burning so bright it blinds; hope swelling after long periods of dread, like the first spring buds blooming after a cruel, cold winter. Agitation. The adrenaline-inducing last sprint towards your goal knowing there is nothing that stops you from reaching it. The smell of damp soil and coppery hijacks your senses, and then—

Pain explodes in your chest, knocking you back against a cushioned surface. Your knees slam against something hard, sending hot shots of pain up your legs. Your eyes snap open but the world spins when all the oxygen is sucked out of your lungs and warmth spreads over your chest, liquid seeps through your fingers—but how? He could not. He would never—someone is screaming, a piercing, blood-churning scream. It takes a moment to realise the scream belongs to you; the wailing is drawn out from your raw throat, but how could anybody blame you; you are dying, shot in the chest by—

Someone is calling your name. Strong hands grab your shoulders and shake you hard as though trying to tear you away from a dream, a nightmare.

“Oh God, help me. He—he shot me—please help.” You gasp, trying to stop the bleeding by pressing your trembling hands against the wound.

“You’re fine. Listen to me, you’re fine. Nobody shot you!” A familiar voice—Kipps’s voice pierces through the wailing terror inside your head. You stare up at his green eyes which are paler than usual, widened in worry. “It’s just a psychic echo. You’re safe here.”

Another forceful inhale expands your lungs. The hot pinpoint pain in your chest subsides slowly with every shaking exhale, and when you look down at your hands, there is no blood sticking to your fingers, only coffee. When you hit your knees against the table, you knocked over your cup. Now the liquid is spreading across the table in a big puddle and dripping down its edges.

Lockwood is busy wiping the table clean with the leftover napkins while wildly gesturing with his free hand to the waitress looming over your table. “Just a long night, nothing serious,” you hear him say in haste. Either she isn’t interested or doesn’t get paid enough to deal with this; she shrugs and drags herself back behind the counter. You look around the establishment, ready to apologise for your outburst, but everybody has left already.

You turn around. When your eyes meet Lockwood’s, he grins, his smile so sudden and jarring as a thunderclap. “I have never seen anyone so sensitive to Touch. That was remarkable.” He beams as though you have performed an exceptional trick at the circus.

Something about the excitement in his voice sets you off—or maybe you are just still very raw from the experience, and the aftershock of such a gruesome echo is driving you up the wall.

“Oh yeah, it is so much fun! Feeling how people get killed every time is so worth it.” You grab your fork and stab your sausage with enough force you send tomatoes flying. On second thought, you are not hungry anymore. “Why don’t I get a gun and shoot you just so you can get an idea—”

“I’ve had my own fair share, thank you,” comes Lockwood’s flippant answer and for a second you imagine leaning over the table and smothering him with his own tie.

“So he was shot.” Kipps quickly steers the conversation back to its topic before you can follow your impulse. You slump against the seat, feeling pressure around your hand. When you look down, Kipps is holding your hand tightly, grounding you. You should have let him from the start. Weakly, you squeeze back. “We knew that already—”

“He … he never expected it to end like this,” you say slowly, gazing outside the window. Only your own reflection stares back at you. “He was shot by someone he knew. There was … genuine surprise. Before the pain, I mean. He couldn’t believe he would be hurt by someone he trusted. It was so absurd, he didn’t even have time to feel betrayed. That’s how unbelievable it was.”

“So it was someone very close to the victim. Who’s someone you’d never expect to betray you?” Kipps thinks aloud.

“Friends,” Lockwood provides.

“Family,” you say, quietly.

“A lover.” Kipps takes your fork and helps himself to some leftover mushrooms from your plate. When you look at the food, your stomach churns. “We should go back to the house tomorrow and see if you missed something, Tony. Wouldn’t surprise me if you managed to gloss over some obvious evidence,” he says to Lockwood.

“Why do you believe I would be the one—”

You shut out their bickering. A fine drizzle has set in outside, leaving small rain drops on the window. The street is a blur of black and faint white light from the ghost-lamps. When you look at your own face in the window’s reflection, your own eyes stare back at you—big, scared and haunted.

It always takes some time to get back after using your talent—to slowly build up the walls and distance yourself from the echoes of someone else’s life and the brutal way it ended. Deaths like these: sudden, violent, painful are always difficult to come back from. Which is why it is so important to have someone to ground you. Kipps has known you for so long, he is well aware how the psychic hangover drags your senses through the shredder and leaves your mind and body bruised and raw like an open nerve.

He had a few years training on how to handle it thanks to your brother.

The thought of Matthew shakes you awake and shoves you into full alertness, as if ice-cold water has been dumped down the back of your neck. You feel a sharp ache in your chest as you shove the ghost of his memory out of your mind, and then raw emptiness, as if a grappling hook has yanked your heart out of your body. It is just the aftershock—the hangover from the psychic connection, you try to reason. This is no time to allow grief back into your body, your mind.

Kipps must have heard the quiet sound you made, like a wounded animal. He falls dead silent mid-sentence and whips his head towards you. An echo of recognition passes his features for a second—there and gone so quickly, you think you imagined it.

“We are done here,” he says, and reaches over to close the box’s lid with a resolute click. You didn’t even notice he has taken the key away from you and returned it inside its seal. Lockwood opens his mouth, as though ready to argue, but whatever expression your face paints, even he recognises that you have reached your limit. Without another word, he swiftly slides the box back into his pocket.

You turn away from them, feeling anger and frustration boil inside you. You don’t want them to think you are weak just because you are a little more sensitive than other agents who can use Touch.

“Want me to drop you off the dormitory?” Kipps asks, his voice intensely neutral. He is digging through his purse to pay for your food, and shoots a glare towards Lockwood to indicate that no, he will not pay for his.

The dormitory for Rotwell agents, commonly known as the Lions Den, are rows of sand-bricked two-room apartments housing most of Rotwell’s younger agents in Chelsea. Half of your monthly salary evaporates just for paying rent, but at least it is a roof over your head and only a few stops away from your workplace. There is also something about pretending to belong to the upper posh class of London, to stroll through the highly-maintained gardens and polished windows glinting like diamonds in the early morning sun. They don’t have to deal with countless sleepless nights, the psychic hangover that makes you feel as if your body is not your own, or the constant fear every shift might be the last.

Sometimes it is that moment of pretending as though you live a different life that makes a difference.

“It’s okay, I’ll just take a cab.” Because for one, Kipps lives on the other side of the city, and two, you need to be alone.

Kipps nods, but he doesn’t look happy about it. Lockwood stays silent and is completely relaxed, a paragon of serenity with alert, dark eyes.

You scoot out of the booth and follow them outside into the cold drizzle. Mist hangs in the dark streets, rendering the area nearly invisible. Kipps and Lockwood share a few quiet words. When they part, Lockwood’s coat end flaps like black wings in the dark. He turns halfway around, gives you a long, considering look over the back of his shoulder. He parts with a single, almost approving nod, then ducks his head against the biting wind and strides down the street, disappearing into the dark night.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Kipps buttons the front of your trenchcoat. He is balancing on the back of his heels—an old habit when he feels bad for something and doesn’t quite know how to apologise and it would be easier to just bail from the conflict. “You still look like shit.”

You give him a weak kick to the shin. His shoulders relax. “I’ll fill you in tomorrow about how it went,” he says, jamming his hands inside his pockets. He pulls one out again and shoves a crushed candy into your hand. It’s your favourite brand and for the first time today, you feel something warm spreading in your chest.

“Wait.” Before he can turn away, you quickly catch his sleeve and make him turn around. “About that key…”

“Is there anything else?” Kipps leans forward and you have to bend your neck back to meet his eyes.

You remember when he was much smaller and you were at the same eye level. At 13 years, Kipps used to be smaller than the rest of the boys at Stroud & Co. where you started out your agent career and met. He’s had his share of playing errand boy or punching bag for the older, taller boys, until Matthew came along one day, dunked one of Kipps’s bullies into an overflowing rain barrel and got his nose broken in return.

They became best friends after that, and you in the middle. Matthew, Quill, and you. Lock, Shock, and Barrel.

Now, only two remain.

Kipps claps your shoulder, snapping you out of the memory and dispersing the picture you have conjured in your mind of him young. Today, he stands tall and broad-shouldered before you, twice in size and muscle. Nobody sane would try and mess with him.

“What’s wrong?” Kipps asks. “Where did you go in there?” He taps two fingers against his temple.

“When I was holding the key, the recent death was the strongest echo, but there was more. Like … way, way more.” You sling your arms around yourself. “Like many layers on a painting, and whatever is underneath all that … it feels evil. Really, really evil. There is a lot of death attached to that key.”

Kipps chews on this. He looks down the street to where Lockwood has vanished, his square jaw drawn tense. “I can’t say Lockwood’s stake on this, but I don’t care much about its history. It changed owners, I get it, but who would kill for something like that?”

“I don’t know.” You think back to the smell of blood, to the underlying eagerness to own that key. “But if that key is already that vile,” you say, shuddering, “then what about the thing it opens?”

“Not important to me as long as it’s not our problem.” He yawns, and taps a foot against the hard pavement to stave off the cold. “I bet it got destroyed or lost long ago. There is no way it’s still around.” Kipps runs a hand through his hair. It curls against his temple and neck in the damp mist. “Chances are high we’ll never hear anything about it ever again after this week. Case closed. Thanks for helping us. I’m sure DEPRAC can find the murderer and it’ll be just another case in the books.”

“Yeah, sure. I guess you’re right.” You barely hold back a yawn.

Kipps nudges your elbow. “I’ll catch up with you later, OK? Gotta make sure Lockwood’s the one who messed up the earlier investigation and go back to the crime scene.”

“Doing the Lord’s work,” you joke and give him a mocking salute. For the first time tonight, Kipps grins that lopsided half-grin showing part of his white teeth before he rushes off into the night after Lockwood.

For a moment, you stand still and let the drizzle engulf you. Although you have been almost sixteen hours on your feet, exhaustion has slowly trickled away, and in its stead a bone-deep anxiety has settled. Sleep. You need to sleep this off, and everything will return back to normal by tomorrow.

Heading for the main street to catch a night cab, you don’t turn around, and just like that, you miss out on the shadow unhitching itself from a wall even though the ghost-lamp flickers to life.

A/N: hmu if you want to join the taglist!

[histrynerdss]

what's it worth to you?

**note: this is like so inspired by a fic,,, but its a dcst one so ill drop it if someone asks im not gatekeeping 🙏🙏 ALSO ITS REALLY OBVIOUS WHO "MISSING" IS IF YOU WATCH / READ DCST AGH

*tws???: literal death*

note: () is for quieter singing lol

forgive my attempt at making a duet i was very sad

-----

[this song is meant to be a duet. the "characters" are not given any real names, however, the replacements ("worthless" and "missing") are to represent their places.]

[the tell-tale click of a tape being slid into a player. the singers are only speaking. the noise of students in the hall almost makes the voices inaudible. the quality is a bit grainy.]

[worthless]: oi! [missing]! heyy!!

[missing]: ha? what is it this time, airhead?

[the sound of the students talking and chatting with each other drowns out the conversation, until it all fades into music, and one whispered, "a lot."]

[worthless]:

no matter where, i run to you

call your name, it's what i do

talk for hours, bicker and banter

bridge the distance, though it seems much farther

tell me your tales of things i can't understand

i'll tell mine, and in my own, i'll hold your hand

we'll fight, and we'll argue, though i guess that's fine

it's how i show affection, the one and only sign --

[missing]:

-- that i care, yeah, i do, idiot, what did you think?

that's a fact, set in stone, written in permanent ink

even when you yell and roll your eyes

everyone knows all your words are lies

you mean well, i know, and i do the same

i'll tell you those "nerdy things," you'll call them lame

come to my house, "because there's no one else to bother"

promise you'll just rest for a while, but fall asleep in my bed, light as a feather --

[worthless]:

-- and asleep, i'll listen to heather,

while you do your work

for once, it's silent, no one awake to blurt

stupid questions at you every five seconds,

([missing]: though, you don't hear me every time i check in)

when i wake, you'll call me (your) airhead

([pause] oh, wait, that does get me to turn red-)

we'll spend the rest of the day lying on your bed, and stare

at the stars on your ceiling, to this, no feeling can compare --

[missing]:

-- though this isn't that kind of love, illogical as that is

the affection and care? ah, well that's just 'cus we're friends

(besides, these feelings aren't welcome, they're something i'll hide

they're something i don't have time for, hopefully they'll die)

what's it worth, anyway? nothing, i swear

this is the one thing that i'll never dare

to do, and besides, who says i won't get another chance?

this is the kind of thing i'll have to plan

i don't want to ruin whatever we have

it's honestly.. heartwarming, like having another half-

wait, wait, stop that, that thinking's not right

though it does keep me awake at night..

even if it's a kind of care that i give to no one else,

eh, what the hell? it's not like she'll get my heart to melt

like that, not possible, just nonsensical it is

well, then, i'll ignore all this --

[worthless]:

-- mess, that i am, has he caught on yet?

to these feelings, well, i'm willing to bet

that no, not yet, he's oblivious as can be (kinda)

even with all his smarts, to him, love's not important

i wish he didn't think like that, it's the one thing i can't understand

well, besides all his talks and tales, that too

but at least i pay attention and listen, even if as bad as i do

i may not remember his exact words that he says,

but i'll still remember that smile on his face

i don't know what it's worth to him,

all that i say, each silly grin

the bickering and affection, has it gone far enough?

ah, well.. he never liked that kind of stuff..

but even if it's worth nothing to him,

(and i think it is, he never gets the hint)

i'll stay, and stay, and stay anyway

i guess, until the end of my days.

[the tape is removed from the player. the grainy quality of the song is lifted, as it slowly gets clearer.]

[missing]:

it's been a year or two since she's been gone

i had to keep going, as life goes on

in another country, that's where we were

and that's the last place i ever saw her

"she was dead on arrival," they said,

but i can still hear her voice inside my head

calling my name, or yelling the same way

she used to, and i'll pretend it's okay

that one day, i won't hear her anymore

i'll forget her, and close the door

i'll pretend it's fine, it's alright

that i never got the chance to tell her what's in my mind..

[silence, for a few seconds. the singer returns in a more distressed state.]

but i did, but i did, and i wasted it all

each time we were alone in the halls

i should've told her, even once

i care for her, even if she was a bit of a dunce

and now i spend my nights awake

wondering what could've happened, if i hadn't been so late

sometimes, i still call her name

to someone else who never knew me the same

i guess i'll remember the last time i saw her face

maybe, it'll keep me from feeling lonely in this place

even if i won't die alone,

that's how it feels without her, i know

i hope, at least, when i die too

she'll keep the promise of "i'll wait for you"

and i'll get another chance at

telling her.. well, that love stuff, all that.

[chloecherrysip]

As much as I mourn all the lines that appeared in mario movie trailers but for some reason, didn't make it to the finished product (RIP "I'm not afraid! I'd do anything for my brother!" YOU LIVE ON IN MY HEART ALWAYS AND FOREVER), I've been thinking about "I hope you told your brother how much you love him, because you're probably never gonna see him again" and the rest of that whole dialogue exchange in particular from this specific trailer and how much I wish we'd gotten that moment because I think it would have helped spotlight a vital aspect of Mario's character that the movie already does a REALLY good job with getting across in the first place: the way he communicates how he feels through action and acts of service instead of words!

(more under the cut because this got too long, haha)

Mario is usually a very quiet protagonist so this tracks with the games too, obviously, but even movie!Mario seems like someone who isn't overly verbose or who's especially eager to enter into heavy, feelings-based conversations (at least not without a struggle). Talking about his feelings might not come easy to him, and he maybe even forgets to say things outloud that to him, seem obvious. (Meanwhile, I think Luigi is always up for gushing about his favorite people (see the interrogation scene lol) and probably ends every phone call/text message exchange ever with "love you!" to Mario and his parents, to the point that he might accidentally say it to acquaintances and customers too on occasion, LOL).

So thinking about this exchange with Toad and how, even if the movie didn't acknowledge it past that point, this idea would be hanging over Mario throughout his journey hits harder because you can imagine him thinking: hey, when WAS the last time he told Luigi outright that he loved him that wasn't a distracted "yeah, me too" response to Luigi saying it first? Maybe it's been a long time. Too long. So long it's genuinely upsetting for him to realize! What if his brother doesn't actually know how much Mario loves him, because he does, he does so much, and he's been an idiot for going so long without saying the actual words and now he can't, he CAN'T and he would give anything in the world to go back and do things differently!

And of course, all this panic is totally unwarranted and even silly because I think Luigi knows like his own name how much Mario loves him. Because the audience watching this movie knows how much Mario loves his brother by that point! Mario never says the actual words - in fact, he never says anything particularly positive about Luigi, other than "you were great!" regarding the commercial in the very beginning - and yet it couldn't be any clearer!!! I think it's pretty impossible to come out of this movie (if you were paying attention in the least) not seeing that love plain as day in everything Mario does, down to the littlest things, because he is a man of action and that's how he expresses himself best!

You see it in how he shifts from mildly embarrassed to immediately Intense and Ready To Throw Down on a dime when Spike insults Luigi, you see it in how he pauses to open doors and create paths for Luigi to safely follow him through the construction site as he's parkouring, you see it when the dog becomes aggressive and Mario is just entirely focused on keeping Luigi behind him, pushing him out of harm's way, getting the dog's attention so it will attack him instead, etc. You see it in the warp pipe when his entire demeanor changes the second he realizes Luigi is in trouble, how he desperately paddles to reach him and grab his hand and comfort him about the situation. You see it in how his brother is front of mind for him at every point in his adventure and that's why he fights so hard to talk to Peach, why he agrees to the fight with DK, why he keeps trying even when things seem hopeless and no one believes he can do it. You see it written all over Mario's face during the reunion, every single little way he touches Luigi and brings him closer and checks in on him with crystal-clear relief and joy and gentleness!!! The "show, don't tell" aspect is just OFF THE CHARTS IN THE BEST WAY POSSIBLE because that's how Mario is. He's not so good at words and remembering to say them. When he loves someone, he wears that feeling, he lives that feeling in so much of what he chooses to do and how he interacts with the world, and while it's always good to say these things outloud now and then just to be clear everyone's on the same page (and I'm sure he does after the movie, haha), it doesn't make it any less meaningful. :)

[vertigoblockbuster]

Uttara Phalguni: Devotion, affection

The Phalgunis are the first pair of the 27 nakshatras - later coming the Ashadas, the Bhadrapadas.

Before Uttara Phalguni comes Purva Phalguni, symbolized by the front legs of a bed. Being half of a pair, Uttara Phalguni (symbolized by the back legs of a bed) is concerned with union - happy partnerships and communities. The attitude of Uttara Phalguni is a response to Purva Phalguni, a sign also concerned with union, but in a different way. Purva Phalguni has more to do with the initial attraction or "spark" that we first experience in new relationships. Uttara Phalguni comes along after the Purva Phalguni spark has died down and strives to make the relationship last beyond the initial excitement.

The bed as the symbol of Purva and Uttara Phalguni

The symbology of the bed encompasses themes of both of the Phalgunis. Love, marriage, sex, pleasure for yourself and others, rest, and rejuvenation are all things that can be associated with a bed. Purva Phalguni is more likely to see the bed as a supportive environment for weird kinky sex after a date. Uttara Phalguni seeks to sustain this attraction and, ultimately, transform the bed into one shared between two deeply committed partners.

Part of what makes Uttara Phalguni different from and complementary to Purva Phalguni has to do with their planetary rulerships.

Uttara Phalguni is ruled by the Sun. The Sun represents very masculine qualities and principles - the ego, your sense of self. It projects itself outward into the solar system, representing the doing nature of the Sun as opposed to the being nature of the more feminine planets (Venus, the Moon...). The Sun is the archetype of the father and embodies classically paternal qualities - someone generous, expressive of love and pride, who treats children and loved ones with respect and care.

Purva Phalguni is ruled by Venus, the planet embodying archetypal femininity - things like beauty, love, and pleasing aesthetics. These are the sexy and exciting things that help kick start new relationships and draw us to one another in the first place. Purva Phalguni magnetizes a companion towards her with her innate, seductive qualities and Uttara Phalguni follows close behind to build the relationship into something long-lasting with it's more fatherly approach.

Aryaman: God of community, friendship, marriage, partnership.

The ruling deity of Uttara Phalguni is one of the Adityas, Aryaman. He is brother to Bhaga, the ruling deity of Purva Phalguni. The Adityas are a group of 12 deities and make up (some of) the offspring of Aditi, a primeval goddess and mother to many gods.

Hinduism is known for having.. a lot of different gods. 330 million is a common estimate. With this in mind, it isn't surprising that some deities are not well-known. Aryaman is an important solar deity in the Vedic pantheon but relatively little information is known about him today. Some important information about Aryaman can be derived from his name, though.

The Sanskrit root of the name Aryaman is -Ri, meaning to go forward or to progress. The word arya, stemming from -Ri, means to come together or to form a bond. Putting the two together, the meaning of Aryaman is to progress towards union. -Ri can also mean something that is true and can stand on it's own. Aryaman as a name and deity carries the essence of truth. Aryaman is all about relationship and partnerships, so truth should be thought of with this in mind. True in the context of relationships means reliable, trustworthy, dedicated - prerequisite qualities to be part of a real partnership. This is what Aryaman embodies and stands for as a deity.

A song to listen to that has Uttara Phalguni vibes: If the House Burns Down Tonight by Switchfoot

I see the smoke piling up in the rear view mirror Yeah but I ain't ever seen it any clearer If the house burns down tonight I got everything I need when I got you by my side And let the rest burn

_______

Credit is due to Vic Dicara for most of the information I talked about here. If you're interested in learning more about Vedic astrology, his YouTube channel is a great resource to do that.

[katrinafaire]

In 30+ years of writing, you do improve; here's some things I've learned.

When I first started actively writing stories -- we're talking single digits here, under the age of ten, as some of you may relate -- my initial goal was spelling things right and having a (mostly) cohesive, if simple, storyline.

Then, in some order I'm not sure of, were things like description, consistent character voices, character development, character driven plots, subplots, worldbuilding -- the list goes on, I'm sure we've all worked on some if not all of these things. (The beauty of writeblr, we're all here together despite different levels of experience.)

I feel like I've always written, but I didn't really sit down to write novella and eventually novel sized works until my late teens-early twenties. I had a lot going for me, because I'd been writing consistently over the years prior. But I had some... quirks. Here's a non-exhaustive list you may find of use:

I struggled with maintaining a clear POV -- who's perspective we were in, how to coherently jump between characters, how to balance that to the best benefit of the narrative... yeah, that was an issue. And I still have a bit of trouble with that now and then, though I'm worlds better.

Also, I hugely overused epithets, those descriptive terms instead of pronouns or names. (The tall man, the blonde woman, the sullen teenager -- you get the idea.) You see, I didn't understand how they worked. I used them mostly because I had a lot of big casts and was not fond of he said-he said-he said with three different he's and I felt like I was over using names.

As I began to hone my craft, it became clearer that these had their place -- but only where they were relevant, not as a replacement. For example, if the POV character doesn't know the name of another character, they will use epithets because that's all they have. Or you can use it to emphasize something:

"There's no way we can deliver the message in time!" Aaron said. The fastest man in the world just smiled; his time had come. "Watch me."

Presumably you already know the speedster's name, but even if you don't, the epithet delivers important information to the narrative; that is the perfect (though not only) time to use one.

There was a huge movement when I was just starting more serious writing and you have likely still seen these posts circulating: said is dead. And I took it as gospel. Now, first let me say I am still a huge fan of dialogue tags. Big fan of things like "whispered" and "sneered" -- things you can't easily convey simply with punctuation.

However.

Using them every line, or every other line, or every third line -- in short, frequently -- isn't good. And it's not because these things are inherently bad. The reason, as far as I'm concerned, is twofold. One, when you deviate from "said" then your audience immediately is drawn to this new dialogue tag, taking it as Important Information. Which is good! We want that when we put those in. But if you have too many in too short of time the brain just quits processing them as important, or worse, it keeps taking them out of the story.

Point two is directly related in that in that overuse of dialogue tags not only clogs up your dialogue, it also makes the dialogue tags less valuable. Imagine this if you will, that every dialogue tag is a colored font and "said" is just black. If you constantly use dialogue tags, do any of them stand out? Even if someone screamed in bright red, does it matter if you just had something in bright orange a line ago? Not really.

But if all you have is black on black on black and suddenly there's a bright red streak on the paper, it jars you! It makes you pay attention! And that's what you really want when you use dialogue tags, isn't it? So that's why I've tried to cut down on mine, and have beta readers specifically work with me on it.

There's also several punctuation and formatting things I've struggled with. Overusing italics, misplacing en dashes — and em dashes (look I even copy pasted the right ones instead of typing two en dashes --) — as well as a severe abuse of... ellipsis. I'm working on them to this day. I'm a dramatic wordsmith. Sometimes it helps for me to write it however I want the first time and then make a new draft, stripping the formatting and seeing with fresh eyes where it's needed.

There's other things, too (I have never done enough description, I'm working on it now) but this post is getting long and I've shared some main points that I feel others can benefit from my mistakes. Feel free to reblog with your own mistakes you've learned from or are working on!

[leonotlara]

The New V Part 2

Uzi finds herself missing V. Wishing she would come back. But be careful of what you wish for! (Post episode 7, Uzi isn't in space anymore, sorry about that.) But this time it's not a cliffhanger.

💜💛💜💛💜💛💜💛💜💛💜💛💜💛

"Uzi...?"

"V?!"

An ear-splitting silence rang, and everyone could hear it. The subjects looked at one another."Uzi!" V ran the small distance between them but came to a halt upon seeing her face. A face of fear. Like when they first met.

"Th-This has to be some sick joke.." The purple drone whimpered, "Right?!" She backed away, visor displaying hollowed-out eyes, screen glitching as her voice altered slightly. She had dreamt and longed for V for so long. Why did she now feel like she was living in a nightmare with her presence here?

Uzi shook slightly, wobbly legs slowly carrying her to the direction of the colony bunker, mind racing, and sensors heating up far too quickly for her liking. She looked up at her father, like a small and helpless child. Did he know about this? What about Thad? Or Lizzy? Or J? Wait... no, yeah, J would definitely do this to her.

"Did you do this?" She looked and pointed at J. As the female Disassembly Drone glared with a shake of her head, Uzi began theorising who did this. A long, defeaning silence fell on the group. A tiny crunch of the snow was heard, and V, looking bigger from Uzi's perspective, made her act quickly.

She flinched away the moment she saw V inching closer, who seemed startled at the sudden movement. Realising it was now or never, Uzi took off running as fast as she had come.

♤

Why had she come so quickly in the first place? She thought they found V's remains or some sort of part of her. Maybe a recording of her death. That would've made her calm down more than to see her back and polished. This wasn't the V she thought was there before the elevator fell. That V would be in ruins, not brand-new, and yet, she was there, outside the landing pod.

The hardest thing about this was the fact that Uzi could barely pinpoint how she felt about this, but the easiest way to learn how you feel about something is to understand it clearer.

First thing the next night, she will find J and ask her how V had been seemingly revived. She had to know.

She just had to.Staring upon the ceiling, the purple lights seem to be shining brighter on the photograph above her bed. Standing on her tiptoes, she reached up for it.

It was her and V having their first kiss together right after they came back from camp.

♤

"Come in." The voice drawled, the pod door creaked open. "What do you want?" The drone asked, her hand moved a strand of her bangs to see the one who opened the door.

"Is V here? Not that I really care, y'know I just..." Uzi took a deep breath before repeating the initial question. "Is V here?"

J looked at her, pausing from her writing on the notepad she had equipped on her hands, her expression of seriousness faltering into one of confusion. "Uh, yeah, she's just outside. You must have not noticed her when you went in. How did you not see her?"

"Oh.." Uzi sighed, taking a step backwards, her boot hitting the snow that blanketed the entirety of the planet.

Closing the door after a quick thanks, Uzi looked around the spire, from retracing her steps from the entrance, to craning her neck to look up at the ceiling, to the back, cobwebs in the corners.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

She wasn't there."V..?" Uzi uttered, her voice cracking. Never had she thought to say that name again.Well, she never thought any of this would happen, and yet, here she was!

There was a faint yellow light on the ceiling of the spire, squeezed in at the top. Calling her name out again, the glow blinked.

"V, please! Look, I.. I shouldn't have been so terrified... but you just came out of nowhere! Like, I am here, mourning over your stupid death, then you just pop back in?!" She yelled, stomping on the ground. "Like, who does that? No being eased into it? No evidence you're actually you? Not even an explanation? Nothing? Anything could've helped, but no, you just came back without any sort of heads-up! Just waltz back into my life after sacrificing yourself and an ominous 'Uzi I trust you'? Yeah, sure, whatever! Maybe I was better off without you! I never desperately needed you anyway! I never needed anyone to mess up my feelings! Especially not a fricken murderer! You should've just left! I'd have more peace, you stupid, inconsiderate-"

Silence.

The yellow light began shaking, shivering, and the glow disappeared, similar to eyes closing.

A sigh echoed off the walls, and Uzi's face had guilt written all over it.

"Look... V. I-I'm sorry... really am," She whispered, sitting atop the frigid snow, her voice shaky from the screaming. "and I totally get if you need time to recharge. I'll wait right here for you, the same way you always waited for me when I had my angsty teen outbursts..." she chuckled softly. As her vision dimmed, her eyes closuig slow enough to see the yellow glow opening up again quickly.

♤

The unfamiliar weight on her left side disappeared, falling instead upon her chest. Looking down, she felt her sensors heating up.

"Hey... V." Uzi smiled, giving her a hug. V's arms wrapped around her, both drones' internal fans working overtime from the sudden warmth threatening to overheat them, mimicking a cat's purr. Both girls were smiling so broadly their cheeks were aching, but it didn't matter.

"Aw…" V's voice came out in a soft laugh. It was nice to hear it again without being deathly afraid of it.

Uzi's eyes hollowed for a split second, remembering what she said to V a few hours prior. Guilt overtook her again, her chest tightening so bad she felt like she was crumpled up.

"Uzi-"

"I'm so sorry. I should've calmed down, I should've just taken control of my emotions, I should've - "

"Hey, hey..." she grazed Uzi's cheek with her hand. Though it was a cold metal, it felt as if it was actively melting it off.

"It's okay."

"I forgive you."

...

One question remained, however. How did V come back polished and new in the first place?

When Uzi voiced her thought to V, she bit her lip, almost as if she was avoiding the question.

"Well, it seemed that Cyn had copies of the Disassembly Drones floating in pods around the exoplanets. This means she can replace us whenever. She must've had us on auto-replacing, though, so whenever we break, a new one will fly here with all the memories we had before."

…

"I couldn't have come earlier, I'm so sorry, I couldn't. It was out of my control."

"It's fine. The important thing is that you're back.

"They interlocked fingers that were resting on the snow."It's good to have you back."

[cazzyf1]

Peter Collins Interview 1957

And here is the 1957 interview I promised the other day! This is roughly three and a half minutes long with clearer audio! To me, Peter also seems a lot more confident in his speaking than he did the previous year, but that might be down to the fact he is ranting about things he disagrees with 😅 anyway enjoy!

Interviewer: We asked Peter Collins about it, and he explained that this is one of the team cars, complying with the new FIA regulations. There were other regulations more difficult to comply with.

Peter: We've come over here, and so has Maserati on the regulations that they sent to us. Which don't mention anything about using the spare wheel in the tyre change. They now issue an appendix to the regulations, which says that the first pit stop must include the use of the spare wheel. Well, now both ourselves and Maserati have different-sized wheels and tyres on the backs as opposed to the front. So, in other words, we can't put a front wheel tyre on the back. So, as far as we are concerned, if we come into the pits with a flat back tyre, we are not allowed to change it.

Interviewer: That's rather absurd.

Peter: Which is absurd, and not only that, you are now allowed to bring out an appendix to the regulations without the sign - well, these before - within 36 hours, I think it is, of the - closing of the entries-

Interviewer: That's an FIA regulation?

Peter: Yeah, that's an FIA regulation, an appendix 6 section c. And uh-

Interviewer: *Something about a lawyer, maybe joking Peter is like one*

Peter: And if you want to change these things, you have to get the signatures of all the competitors, and if one competitor doesn't agree to it, then they can't do it! And we are trying to do this now. We are all very mad about it.

Interviewer: When do you think it will be resolved?

Peter: Well, right now, with the noise by all *a person's name* from Maserati

Interviewer: Who is he making that noise with?

Peter: Everybody - well, all the people that matter, Chief Pittsburgh and Alec Coleman, I suppose, eventually, and Mr Talvoni, who was the lawyer from Ferrari; he is going after it as well. You see, from our point of view, um, if we go into the pits with a bent buckle smashed rear wheel, and we have to use the first wheel change as a spare wheel, we wouldn't be able to put it on, so we would just have to stop there. But the corvets and all the other entries from the, oh well, I won't state the country, have got the same size wheels on the front and the back.

Interviewer: *Something*

Interviewer: I have been hearing little talk that the course isn't as fast this year as the season last year, do you remember at all?

Peter: Yes, it doesn't seem to be as fast to me either. There are a lot of patches on it that have gotten much more slippery, one particular at the bottom end of the fast straight, first and second fast straight, one divides the two up.

Interviewer: How do you account for that?

Peter: Well there is a lot of water been allowed to lie on it, still does lie on it, and when you get water lying on concrete for any length of time, it becomes, it gets covered in sort of a greeny moss stuff which gets inground in the concrete and much slippery and also the tyre wear seems to have gone up a lot since last year um they resurfaced the course in one or two places and uh still a lot of bad bumps which have gotten worse I think, since last year, um I don't know whether it's because we are going faster or what it is but the course seems much bumpier than it was before. Also, um, well, I don't think they have the barrels and mark-bales in exactly the same position as they were before- one thing I like to say, I think, these 50-gallon oil drums, they got everywhere, they ought to be burnt in hell as far I am concerned. I think they are very, very dangerous things because if one car hits another one following, it's happened to me once, landed on me, 50-gallon oil drum, no light thing anyway. I think we could do well without those. Especially where if someone runs out of breaks and they have to go wide on the corner, then they are going into straw bales, and those 50-gallon oil drums is a very, very bad thing, I don't- it's one thing about the course that I think is very very bad indeed.

Interviewer: Thanks Peter!

[navree]

I think, if people are going to comment on how Rhaenyra was usurped, they should no about law or have common sense. Rhaenyra was made heir when it was only her and Daemon but when Aegon was born HE was the one in the throne. As unfair as it is, brothers go before sisters.

Just like Viserys shouldn't have inherited the iron throne. Rhaenys was the child of the oldest son so she should have inherited the throne, not Viserys.

i think the show screwed up in not pointing out that it wasn't necessarily Rhaenys that the Council was deciding on, it was moreso Laenor, and that he should inherit because he was the son of Jahaerys's eldest son, who had been Jahaerys's longtime heir. So the Council wasn't just saying that women couldn't inherit, but that men couldn't inherit through the female line either, which really should have put the kibosh on Rhaenyra or her sons inheriting the throne.

I'm willing to give the Great Council some leeway that I'm not willing to extend to later generations, because the whole point of that was that nobody was really sure what protocol was given how messy the Targaryen succession had been at that point and things were starting to amass to violence (Corlys was gathering a fleet to defend Laenor's claim and Daemon was gathering himself an army), so that's why Jahaerys decided to try a more democratic approach, and it was a majority of people who decided the outcome. There's issues with the fact that it's landowning highborn men who comprised the vote, but it is profoundly more democratic than just straight up birthright monarchy, and Viserys, and more importantly the precedent that selecting Viserys meant, is what they ultimately chose. It was a bad choice because of nearly everything about Viserys, and that Rhaenys likely was better suited, but as an American, I can very firmly state that sometimes democracy gives us decisions that we don't like but we have to deal with anyway (#StillWithHer).

The issue is that nothing was done afterwards to rectify that situation. The law wasn't made any clearer (precedent isn't set in stone law but it's still pretty powerful) and more importantly Viserys didn't do jack shit when he himself was on the throne. Like yeah he named Rhaenyra as his heir when he was widowed and had literally only her as an option as opposed to his psycho brother. But once he had multiple sons, the expectation and the precedent of the Great Council meant that everyone in the entire country is going to see Aegon as de-facto heir. So Viserys should have either abided by that or he should have clarified the law and codified Rhaenyra's succession (and thereby codified absolute primogeniture, at least for the Targaryens, which might be why he never did it) to make it the crystal clear law of the land. Because if all you've got is precedent that goes against Rhaenyra and twenty decades passing since the loyalty oaths were sworn, most people are going to assume that legality is on Aegon's side, even if the legality is unclear.

It's unfair to call Aegon a usurper, because usurpation by definition relies on someone taking power illegally. We can debate whether it was ethically and morally right for Aegon to take the throne all the live long day (just not with me because I don't care, all birthright monarchy is a scam anyway), but whatever law there was remained on his side, and even then the law as it pertained to Targaryen succession was so muddied that there's no law that Aegon could have been breaking by taking the throne. Like yeah, it's a mess, but the Targaryen succession up until that point had been Aegon doing his thing and then passing the throne to his eldest son (straightforward, normal, God bless you Aegon I miss you) and then Maegor seizing the throne from his nephew because shrug.emoji I guess he was crazy, then Jahaerys kinda falling into it after the Iron Throne murked Maegor, and THEN we had the Great Council followed by all of this nonsense. And in all that time no one thought to hammer out the law? We're relying on the precedent of Aegon to Aenys and then the Great Council and only that? It's so insane to me, succession at that point was basically a free for all and stayed that way until Aegon ended up having Aegon the Younger as his heir and cementing the concept of "closest male descendant available is the heir no matter what".

(And no I don't see it as a usurpation of Jahaera because a) no law and b) Jahaera was not fit to be a reigning monarch any more than she was fit to be married if whatever intellectual disability she was hinted at having ended up making her seem half her age mentally, sucks but it is what it is).

[muttermuttermutter]

In which Tenko and Aizawa meet again.

There’s been a new wave of damage rumbling throughout the city. Someone, supposedly a hero, comes on the scene of an emergency and while they do save people, they cause massive destruction as they do so. They're giving heroes a bad name and causing too much destrution to the cities. It's as if someone is trying to do the right thing but either doesn't care enough to minimize the damage or simply doesn't know how to manage their quirk. No way they're a pro. Some say it's only a kid. Most heroes have kept a distance from this person and these events out of fear of his quirk and of being crushed by decaying buildings. The best person to solve this is Eraser Head, as he can erase his quirk and get in close.

The dust is making his eyes sting, even through the goggles, but Eraser waits patiently on a rooftop. He waits until the person's careless destruction renders him isolated, and then he strikes.  

Tenko Shimura feels something wrap around his torso and knows instantly what it is. The first words shared between the two of them are "woah, it's Eraser Head! You're my favorite hero! I've always wanted to meet you!" His cheery grin stands in stark contrast to the gray dust settling around them, coating Tenko's clothing and hair. He actually looks overjoyed to see him, which is not a reaction Eraser has ever gotten while apprehending a villain before. 

Wait. As the dust settles and Eraser is able to see clearer-- a rush of electric memories shoot through his mind, and he stops, but doesn't lower his stance. "Tenko?"

"You... know who I am?" His voice is puzzled but full of the strange hopefulness that comes from knowing his idol knows of him. But then Eraser lowers his goggles, and Tenko recognizes him instantly. "Aizawa senpai? You’re Eraser Head? -- I always knew you were cool!"

Hmh. Cool? Intriguing but ultimately useless information. Aizawa continues treating Tenko as he would any potentially dangerous person in this situation. "The better question," he tightens his grip on the scarf, "is what you're doing causing such careless destruction. Don’t you live with Torino? Has he raised you so poorly that you would become a villain at such a young age?"

"I’m not a villain! I’m a hero!" These words are spit out with an alarming fire -- one that isn't born from the passion of a young hopeful, but of someone who already feels scorned. "I’m just doing what heroes are too weak to do."

Weak... Eraser's stomach turns. No, no, he's only just a kid, raised by a hero at that, he can't be thinking of heroes this way. "That’s what villains say."

"I’m not a villain!" Once again, there's a frightening bite to his voice, but his tone becomes softer as he begins a confession: "I... I want to be like you. A cool underground guy who helps people on his own and doesn’t care about the system and--"

"maintains law and order," Eraser finishes the sentence for him. "This is not what being a hero is." The pro sighs, taking a few steps closer but not unraveling him yet. "Listen. I'm gonna take you to the police station, then Torino's gonna pick you up. You're gonna go home and stay on the right path. If you wanna become a hero, you have to do it the right way, and this isn't it. You're just causing more harm than good this way." 

Yeah, that didn't go over well. It's evident that Tenko's emotions are volatile, perhaps dangerously so. But that comment about him only doing harm -- well, that seemed to get under his skin.

The teenager crumples in on himself, bending over like he's going to be sick before falling to his knees, small cloud of dust kicking up around him. "You're telling me... that trying to do the right thing, trying to save people, only hurt people? Again?!" His hands ball into fists, long nails digging into his palms. "I can't-- I can't do anything right, I still can't -- maybe you're right, maybe everyone's right and I should just be a villain." For the first time since the surprise of meeting his favorite hero, Tenko smiles. But this time, it isn't lit up with excitement, but shining behind it is a fire of sadistic pleasure, stoked by the hurt of what he feels is unending rejection. "Eraser Head thinks I'm a villain... so I might as well become one!" And from his spot on the ground, Tenko presses both hands to the ground, causing the street beneath them to crack and crumble, dust kicking up once more. Eraser is mostly blinded again, and his scarf remains wrapped around Shimura, so he can't propel upwards to escape. All he has left to save him are his words -- not Aizawa's strong suit... but he can do it. He has to. Who knows what kind of horrors this kid could cause if his powers were used with malintent.

"I never said that. And I don't want you to be. Your quirk has potential to do a lot of good. You just have to train it. The right way."

"Too late for that Eraser Head!" He moves to slam his hands on the ground again, but, with the capture cloth still around him, he is suddenly yanked towards Eraser, who now has his hair up and eyes glowing red. The hero lifts his leg and plants his foot on the other person's shoulder.

"Yeah, no it's not. Stop being dramatic. Go home to Torino, make him train you, apply to high schools--"

He's interrupted by Tenko lashing out once again. "I’m not going home to him! Torino tried his best, but I ran away."

Ran away? Not a good sign. Aizawa is frowning with concern. "Why would you do that?"

From his position on his knees, Tenko looks Eraser Head straight in his eyes, the golden glow reflecting back off his gray ones. "I ran away because he didnt tell me that Shirakumo senpai died."

The mere mention of his name is enough to make Aizawa go pale. He remains stiff and stong in his pose, but is silent for a beat too long.

"I see. He lied to you, and out of grief you ran away to try to be a hero because you feel upset that no one saved your friend." Aizawa's wistful frown deepens into a pained glower. "I was there. I was the one who didn't save him. Sure, the pro heroes we were working with also should have helped but... I was the one who should have saved him -- I was the one who should have died instead..." Normally stone-faced in the face of any kinds of horror, tears are pricking Eraser's eyes. He won't complain though, the moisture is useful.

"I wish you had!"

Yeah, that killed any sentiment that was threatening to show itself. He's going to consider this a wake-up call and shake off his emotions and get back to the task at hand. How to keep this kid from falling completely off the deep end. Tenko is writhing in his restraints now, and as he is, the danger of his quirk starts to set in for Aizawa. One reach forward and he would be dust, too. So Shota changes course entirely. Mostly to try to get the outcome he wants, but also because it is true: "All this time i’ve wondered what he told you and if you were okay."

Tenko stops writhing, now bone still, eyes wide staring at the ground, contemplating. Eraser takes this moment to blink finally. "You're just saying that."

"No. I don't waste my breath saying things I don't mean."

"You mean you..." his eyes flicker up from the ground to once again meet Aizawa's own, no longer gold. "You remembered me? And thought about me?"

"Of course." There's a breathiness to his voice that doesn't make him sound particularly convincing.

Convincing or not doesn't seem to matter. The vile hatred and tension that begins to seep from Tenko is tangible, unsettling, making the hairs on the back of his neck prick. "Why didnt you come find me."

"I had my own grieving to deal with. I didn't think I could help you."

While earlier the boy crumpled in on himself, now he is lashing out. He struggles and writhes in his restraints, fighting against Eraser as much as he can. "You should've protected me! You should've been there for me! Even you won't be there for me!"

It's like the first time. The moment invades his vision again, as if he were transported back to that very moment, just a small child in his back yard watching everything he knows crumble around him. But it's invigorating. That hot, sharp thrill of hatred is rising in his chest again, tingling through his extremeties to his palms, to his fingers, and Tenko Shimura reaches out to strike--

But when his fingers find Eraser's leg, nothing happens. He looks up, finding an annoyed set of gold eyes glaring down at him.

"Yes, I will." The hero sighs, removing his foot from his shoulder and planting it on the ground, squatting down to meet Tenko at eye level.

"I wasn't there for you then, but I'm here for you now."

Why am I making this vow? Why am I choosing to put the burden of wrangling this murderous child on myself? Well, because someone has to. And there's no one better than me, possibly the only figure he looks up to, potentially the only person he could want to be around. He's already so violent and on the brink of villainy, he has to be saved...

"From now on, Tenko. I promise I will protect you."

Eraser Head reaches out and takes one of Tenko's hands in his own, interlacing all five fingers.