#and yet you have so many excuses to have never learned life skills

[marsreflection]

it seems like every single winter we have had some type of issue. and i know im putting in the work. but it feels like you aren't.

[5-puthyyy]

The Apprentice (Agatha x Rio x Reader) - Chapter 2

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Word Count: 2.3k

Summary:

Life has been about survival for you ever since your coven banished you for the simplest thing: desire. Since then, you've travelled from Inn to Inn, making ends meet, until you sense a powerful Magick presence coming from two mysterious women. They take you in as their apprentice and you end up learning far more than what you came for...

Ch.1 ~ Ch.2 ~ Ch.3 ~ Ch.4 ~ Ch.5 ~ Ch.6 ~ Ch.7

Chapter Two

It’s hard to know how long you have been following them but with how deep you have gone into the woods it feels as if you are countries away from your Inn. The Sun is still down and the Moon still up, the two gazing at each other as they pass with pure longing but never being able to touch. You follow carefully, not having them in your sight but still finding them with your string of light.

Once you catch sight of a cabin, the light leading past the door, you keep yourself hidden behind a large tree. It’s incredibly strong here, the pull of Magick. You’re shocked no other witch has found this place yet, or tried to at the very least. 

It’s a spacious build, likely two stories from the windows you can count, maybe even a basement. The wood seems new, with barely a scratch on it. Beds of flowers are arranged all around, but there are far too many for you to be able to really focus on anything else. You feel drawn enough to them to risk walking towards the cabin just to get a closer glimpse. White magnolia, pink lotus, and marigolds so vivid you can see their colour shining at this hour. But it’s the purple azaleas you find yourself unable to take your eyes off, giving in to the urge to touch a petal, eye fluttering at how soft it feels against your fingertips.

Somehow, you can feel Magick in those very petals calling out to you. Before you have the opportunity to give yourself a scandalous taste of that Magick, a throat clears from your side, startling you into a jump.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. Unless I wanted to die. Which I do, sometimes.”

Your eyes lock to the brown-eyed woman standing on the porch by the open door of her cabin. That easy smirk is still on her lips and you can’t help but gaze at them for a moment too long – which she notices, given that her smirk widens even more.

Your lips move in a stutter, unable to say a word of apology despite it sitting at the tip of your tongue. She says nothing as she watches you struggle to come up with an excuse. The woman leans against the ledge of the open door, smirking with wide brown eyes that glimmer in entertainment.

“Oh, I–I cannot believe I did–I am so–I can only offer my apologies for my behaviour, miss, I do not know what possessed me to–”

A soft sigh catches your ears and she emerges from the shadows, through the open door. “You’re frightening the poor girl, my love,” the blue-eyed woman says, voice as smooth and silky as honey as she smiles wickedly.

You’re entranced as you watch her descend the steps slowly, her long, delicate fingers leaving a ghost of a touch on the wooden barrier of the steps. The white nightdress she has on flows with the light breeze, demanding the attention of your eyes that gaze over the intricate lace patterns at its hem. When she reaches the very ground you’re stepping on, she stays there, observing just like her partner with a calculated gleam in those shining blue eyes.

“Frightening?” The other woman speaks up, scoffing as she stomps down the steps, lacking the grace her partner carries. She stands a step in front of her, almost protectively as she crosses her arms, “You are far too trusting,” she grumbles, taking another step further to get closer to you, “She could be here to kill us,” she approaches, circling you like you’re prey, “or worse. She could be here to steal our Magick.”

The penny drops. It’s the confirmation you needed that it wasn’t just in your head, that your skills perhaps aren’t as rusty as you thought. They are witches, they do possess Magick and clearly an extreme amount of it. But you’re not here to steal it. No, you wouldn’t want to, you’re not a witch-killer, you’re the complete opposite of that.

“Train me.”

The words leave your lips before you can even comprehend what you are saying. Both their brows raise high in response, turning to look at each other with amusement.

“Train you? For what, exactly?” The brown-eyed witch asks, curiosity twinged along with the defensiveness in her tone.

Trailing your fingertips along the petals of the flowers, you force yourself to break eye contact to really think about your answer. You know what they’re likely expecting. Train you for power, for control, for revenge. The answers are endless, but that is not what you want. Every witch seeks the highest of powers but you never asked for this. There’s a lot you wanted in your past, but your coven’s banishments forced your wants to be pushed back; everything you’ve known since then has been about what you need. With that in mind, you clear your throat and finally look back up.

“Survival.”

The storm in those blue eyes clears as she takes you in. Your demeanor is nowhere near threatening and you’re aware that you have become somewhat of a shell of yourself. You have forgotten yourself and what makes you happy. The simple use of Magick in your daily life is something you miss, the act itself being too risky. You could not risk exposure.

Seemingly coming to a decision, she turns on her heel and climbs back up the steps, commanding authority in every step. Her partner sighs in defeat, gesturing with her head to you to follow them inside. You look behind you before you do so, remembering the Inn, the regulars, the little community you quickly became a part of. It was safe. You had to hide who you really were, but it was safe.

If life really was about survival, you’d turn and march to your little bedroom, never looking back here again. But you think about the power those two hold, the way the blue-eyed witch looked at you with something akin to a motherly gaze. It could be a trap. They could attack you and take your power the moment you step into their territory. But something inside you is telling you to trust them, just as they have trusted you by letting you in.

You look at the open door again, seeing nothing inside but darkness. Sucking in a deep breath, you take a step forward.

“Good morning, little dove, it’s time to wake up,” the soft voice rouses you from your slumber, a tender touch from a finger brushing over your temple soothing the frustrating blow of being woken up from such a deep sleep. You can’t remember the last time you slept this way, slept this long, slept with no fear of the sound of a group of angry men breaking through your door with pitchforks and fingered accusations.

“Mmm, no, five more minut–” your grumbling sentence is cut short by fingers trailing to your nest of hair, suddenly gripping, pulling, forcing a raspy gasp from the depths of your throat. Your eyes snap open to meet the powerful, controlled gaze of blues darkened by blown-out pupils.

“What was that?” she asks, her tone screaming I dare you to disobey me again. You don’t. Immediately sitting up, you mumble an apology but quickly pull the covers back up your chest, realising your extremely thin nightgown has exposed the hardened buds on your chest. It’s just the cold, you say to yourself, ignoring the flush on your cheeks that says otherwise, “Good. Ready yourself and come out for breakfast.”

There’s no room for debate as she swiftly gets up from the bed, her purple and black long dress waving at you as she walks out of the room shutting the door with a silent thud. You’re once again left alone with your thoughts, letting the covers drop with a sigh. What are you doing with your life? Does it mean this little to you for you to risk it like this?

It takes another minute of regret before you stand up and make your way to the washstand in the corner of your room. You trail your fingertips over the water filled to the brim of that deep bowl, dipping them in and sighing as the warmth of it slowly relaxes you. This will be fine. They let you in, they gave you a room, and they’re making you breakfast at this moment. It’s difficult for you to trust people but you have to try, at the very least.

Once your face is washed, hair neatened, and clothed appropriately, you silently make your way out. The bashfulness in your walk is clear to the pair standing by the small dining table clearly made for four people at the max. There are three bowls of milk porridge and a selection of fruits you’ve never had the pleasure of tasting yet. It’s clear they grow their own crops, and they’re well versed in it considering how lovely their garden looked last night.

“Sit,” the brown-eyed witch commands, taking her own seat as she says so. She sits with her legs spread, dressed in long black pants and a white shirt, a few buttons lazily left open. You cannot keep your eyes off of her, staring for a moment too long at the open cleavage, but you’re snapped out of it by a click of angry fingers.

“She gave you a command. Have you not learnt your lesson?” the blue-eyed witch states, eyes narrowed as she refers to waking you up.

Not wanting to risk another ‘lesson’, you promptly sit down, a blush tainting your cheeks. They both smirk at that, seemingly enjoying the humiliation.

“Eat, and then we will talk,” the blue-eyed witch states and you don’t fail to listen to her words this time, immediately grabbing the spoon set on the side. A few minutes later, you sit back in your chair, happily full and hydrated, sipping the last couple of drops of water left in your cup.

“I take it you enjoyed the fruit?” the brown-eyed woman states, glee in her eyes as you nod, “I have fruit trees in the back. Would you like to see?”

“Not now, Rio.”

“Rio,” you repeat the moment you hear the blue-eyed witch say it, “Is that your name?” It’s an unusual one, definitely uncommon especially in this part of the world.

“And you thought I would be the one to mess up your plans, Agatha,” Rio cackles as Agatha glares at her.

Agatha shrugs it off, switching back to her composed self easily. “Right, well,” she turns to you, “We were going to make you earn our trust before revealing our identities, but I suppose you have been good for us so far, haven’t you?”

The way she says it, her words almost honeyed, hits you right at your core. You shift uncomfortably, unable to speak a word. You can only nod in response, finding it hard to maintain eye contact as she smiles at you knowingly. There’s something cruel yet enticing about her; the way she balances her authority and power with the right amount of sweetness and tenderness…it’s dangerous, and worrying, but you can’t help being intrigued.

“My name is Y/N,” You suddenly spit out, realising that you need to give trust to earn it. Agatha hums in approval and you take that as a sign to continue, “I was banished from my coven by my…by my mother, for my, uh–She claimed I was unable to tame my desires.”

It’s a difficult subject for you to speak on, especially now that you realise you’ve never spoken about it since it happened. You kept it locked inside of you, buried as it festered into a chaotic mess of hurt. But Agatha and Rio’s eyes flash with a look of understanding, and something softer beneath it, and you feel…you feel safe.

“Ah. You come from those types of witches,” Agatha observes, muttering more to herself than to you. Rio clearly sees a conflict of some kind, resting her hand atop Agatha’s on the table, leaning over to whisper something in her ear. Those eyes disappear as they flutter shut, taking Rio’s comforting words in before nodding and opening them again.

“I thought…Well, no, I know life is about survival. How else would you get to the end of the road? You must survive and put yourself above all. That’s what I have been doing since my banishment. But I have come to realise that I want…more.”

Rio tilts her head, “More?”

You nod, sighing deeply as she watches you curiously. “Acceptance. Freedom. I want to be who I am, unapologetically.”

It seems those were the exact right words to say as Agatha sucks in a sharp breath, fingers turning white as she grips the edge of the table. Her eyes flutter for a moment before she composes herself.

“We will teach you, little dove, so long as you listen. That is our only condition.”

With that, you nod in acceptance, already awaiting your next instruction. Agatha and Rio turn to each other smiling at your obedience, ignoring your presence for a moment of indulgence. They lean in slowly, their noses brushing together before their lips meet in a tender kiss. You swallow the ball that has suddenly grown in your throat as you watch them kiss, forcing yourself to look away when you spot the swipe of a demanding tongue and hear a surrendering sigh. It’s another moment of you listening to the sounds of their kisses with a bright red flush across your chest, neck, and cheeks, before Agatha sighs, breaking it up for your sake.

“Go on, my love. Show her your garden.”

masterlist + guidelines

hope you guys enjoy this one!

[threepandas]

Bad End: Out In The Cold

"What's this? A cold little mouse in my castle?"

Thick hair that wasn't mine spilled over my shoulder. As a familiar hand, warm and calloused, wrapped itself around my throat. I hadn't realized how cold the room had gotten, until her hand was there, skin warm against my skin. It had taken a while to get used to this.

I was grateful, in a way. For the the day she had done more then just scoff at my scarf. Telling me I would freeze. The way she had gotten worried. Pulled off her gloves, grumbling all the while, too fuss over me like some great mother bear. Hands warm but gentle, as the tucked themselves around my throat. Too better warm my blood, she had said.

It had been like a dam breaking.

And honestly? She WAS right. It was warm.

Now, whenever she so much as SUSPECTED I was cold? Her hand would sneak out to press against my pulse. Though, half the time, I suspected it was an excuse. She'd not had many chances for closeness in her life, I suspect. Calysta was the... ah, it was hard to translate, but... the CLOSEST translation? Was something like "Child of The Mountain Gods".

Or was it "Child of the Mountains AND the Gods"?

I was supposed to be writing a treatise on the subject. Gods knows no one ELSE would. Cowards. Bigots too. "Nothing but savages" my silk clad ASS. And they dare call themselves academics!? Ha! HA, I say! Both my professors and I would SPIT! (If it weren't WILDLY rude. I never COULD master that skill. I did try.)

Unfortunately, my professors, were too old to make the journey this far North. It hadn't stopped them from TRYING, when we had finally gotten permission. But... well. They barely made it too Wuntersgreen before the strain and cold became too much. They cried.

As the youngest? I was loaded down with their notes, questions, hopes and dreams, and sent on ahead. No one was impressed by me. The scrawny academic with her soft, soft hands. Never a day's fight in her. Didn't know how to do "anything". But? That had given their word to host me. So they did.

It's been AMAZING.

And I like to think I'm getting better!

Adapting. Learning how to do things and help around the castle. I even helped start a fire for the fireplace the other day! Before THAT? I learned how to set hunting traps... rather badly. I have yet to catch anything. But still! Progress, is it not?

Where was I? Ah, yes.

Calysta. Her rank is something between a Warlord and a King, as far as I can tell? It holds the respected sovereignty of a ruling monarch yet? Can be seized. Should she grow "weak". Is not NECESSARILY passed too one's children. They, presumably, have an ADVANTAGE... but? It goes too "the Chosen child of..." that word I'm still having some difficulty getting a good translation off.

And if I remember correctly, Calysta's brother's did NOT appreciate that. As they had been favored by her father. Showered with praise most of their lives. One of them ASSUMED to be the next leader.

They challenged her.

Did not back down.

Now? Now she has neither Father nor brothers. Not that it seems she had much of either to begin with. Frankly? I am GLAD she won. She is good for the North. Strong, steady, highly tactical. A wry wit. And a FEIRCE love for her people and culture. NO ONE will take it from her. Destroy these beautiful peoples.

I'm tugged back lightly, away from my desk to sit up properly against the back of my chair. The hand on my neck shifting softly, ever so slightly up, to cup the underside of my jaw. Tilting my head up so I can not see my work but must instead meet the eyes of my dear friend.

"Enough, little mouse." There is a fondness to the edge of her mouth, she is not one for great grins and wild expressions. It has taken me months to learn how to read her so well. "Your papers will still be there AFTER you warm up. Should be easier to right, don't you think, when you can actually feel your fingers again?"

I huff a laugh.

Honestly... where would I be with out her? Frozen to death, probably. I get entirely to fixated on my work. Food, drink, keeping the fire running. I notice none of it. Probably shrivel up and die. The fact she even takes the time to check on me? Dispite being as important as she is? Let NO ONE say Calysta does not CARE. She is a good person.

My legs feel numb and prickly, stiff, in that distinctly asleep and too cold sort of way, as I try to stand. Calysta has to wrap her arm around my waste and let me lean against her. She feels almost too hot against me. Another sure sign I have, indeed, allowed myself to get too cold. Oh dear.

With an exasperated snort, once it becomes clear my legs will probably not be recovering fast enough for her liking, Calysta decides she will speed things along. My legs are swept out from under me effortlessly. I don't even squeek anymore, this has happened so often. But I USED too.

It is how I became "mouse".

Now I just allow Calysta her way. She'll put me down when she wants to put me down. And honestly? It's kinda fun to be carried like a child. I feel tall. Weightless and somewhat decadent, it makes my heart beat a faster. And on somedays? All I want to do is go boneless. Allow myself to be HELD. Not that I'll ever tell. So Shhhhh, a secret to our graves, okay? It would make things awkward for her.

She strolls down the hall with me, too her office. No one so much as blinking an eye. We've become so common in our shenanigans, I imagine, it's become mundane. And... ah~ Calysta was RIGHT. I WAS cold. The fireplace in her office is full with logs burning away merrily. The windows we passed in the hall showed snow. It seems the storm's finally hit..

Instead of putting me down, Calysta heads for the couch. Turning and with a huff, flopping down, making both of us bounce a bit. Leaning back with me less in her arms now, so much as in her lap. The room is quiet. Hushed almost. The crackle of fire, the distant howl of wind, far away chatter of life, elsewhere in the castle.

Calysta has leaned back against the back of her office's couch. Head rested against the fur blanket draped against the back of it. The fur mixes with her riotous man of hair to create almost a halo, lit in golds by the fire's light. Her eyes are closed as she takes her moment. The fire light makes her face softer.

But never soft.

No force in all the world could make Calysta anything but the Queen she is. Dangerous and powerful. First into battle and last to leave. She is breath taking in the way all deadly things are, I think. Like blades and poison held up to the light. Predators and fires that burn.

"You're staring, little mouse." She says, voice nearly a whisper in the softness of the room. It is a rumble like mountains and the sweet call of dangerous things. She's always had such a commanding voice. I envy it. "Is my face so entrancing?"

She's smirking. Teasing me. I laugh and rest my head against her shoulder. Let myself drift as the chill in my bones fades away. The arm loosely around my waist to keep me from falling off, has taken to lightly stroking my back. Almost absent-mindedly. Occasionally, fingers playing with the ends of my hair.

A servant has come-by. Removed our shoes for us. Brought Calysta missives and responses. General updates. She shifts us. Tucking me against her as she lays down, tucking me between her body and the couch. Fuzzy blanket over me, arm wrapped around me. I... I feel boneless.

Safe.

Everything warm and quiet and far away.

Trusting, I doze off. Cuddling close and utterly content.

Calysta presses a kiss to the crown of my sleeping head. Let's her hand roam, just a bit, simply to feel the perfect way her little mouse fits right up against her. She was MADE for her. Born to be here. Still... she has to be... be GENTLE. Soft.

It's hard. She hasn't had much practice in that.

But good things are worth the struggle for them. True love is WORTH the time, the effort, to learn how the South romance. Figuring out how to woo her lil mouse as she deserves. Making sure she never leaves.

Speaking off...

She diges out the ridiculous fancy paper envelope at the bottom of the stack. Hidden, as per her instructions, so her little Mouse wouldn't see it. Another one, it seems, from that damn "House" of hers. Southern Clans were pretty damn presumptuous, weren't they? Had some fucking gall.

What did THIS one say?

Let's she... "come back at once" blah blah blah "how dare you ignore all our letters" blah blah "you WILL honor the engagement we've found for you, or ELSE" oh? Threats now, huh? Ah~? "Keep ignoring our letters and you'll be cast from House-" well, well~!

That's convenient.

One flick of the wrist, and the letter is in the fireplace. Burning away. Just like all before it. Oops. How difficult it is, to get news from the South. Her little mouse really SHOULD just forget about them. THIS is her home now. THEY are her people.

Her girl doesn't need anyone else.

"Don't worry, little love. I won't leave you out in the cold. You're gonna stay with me. Forever. I Promise."

[seonghwaddict]

★ NEVER SAY NEVER. [ 010 ] the head and the heart.

synopsis. something about the eight most well-known boys of your campus just didn't sit right with you, so you never gave any effort to interact with them. but after a series of... interesting incidents, they can't seem to leave you alone. pairing. college students! vampires! ot8! ateez x fem! reader. genre. fluff, angst, eventual smut, college au, vampire au.

chapter warnings. heavy angst, blood drinking, student/teacher relationship (not pedophilia), gore, blood, murder, manipulation, very intense heartbreak, knives, strangulation, mention of metaphorical suicide. word count. 3.6k rating. mature for violence.

　　　　　　　　chapter ix // chapter v // chapter xi

choi san had always been a loving soul.

growing up in a loving and caring family, he had been taught how to give and receive affection well. always caring for his friends and family, willing to do anything to make them happy. he was quick to forgive and forget, quick to assume the best of everyone’s intentions. to put it quite plainly, for many years of his life, he only saw the best in people.

but being so loving had its consequences.

he fell in love too quickly.

at the age of 18, he was sat in his literature class in high school. the teacher hadn’t showed up yet, the students scattered around the class and chatting idly. his seat was by the window, on the third row. the weather was nice, sunny with a cool breeze. he remembered this day vividly.

he remembered this day so vividly because it was the day he met jang sooyeon.

though, at first he knew her as ms jang for she walked in with the principle, introducing herself as their new teacher. absently, he noted she was very pretty, and awfully young to be a teacher. as she walked between the desks to hand out worksheets, his gaze was drawn to a dainty, silver anklet.

it all started slowly; lingering looks and touches that rested on his shoulder for a beat too long. ms jang somehow always found him when he was alone. sometimes she’d offer a book recommendation in the library, other times she’d ask him to stay behind after class for a little chat. one day he walked in with a black notebook, poems and prose scribbled inside. noticing the little book, she asked to take a look inside. but he refused; looking at his writings felt like looking into the deepest corners of his mind, little scraps of his soul etched on the paper with his crappy ball-point pen.

but, somehow, at some point, she ended up inside it, nose practically pressed to the ink as she made sense of the inner workings of his brain. though the compliments were nice, he didn’t think too much of them. but looking back, he should have known better.

over time, her little actions and words had his heart swelling with an all-too-familiar feeling. he found himself seeking her out and soon enough, they met up outside of class, outside of school. first under the excuse of san needing tutoring (a pathetic excuse as his writings exceeded the skills of many), but soon he found himself spending time with her outside of school just because he wanted to. making excuses in the first place was stupid, everyone around them knew there was something going on.

he let her in, he cared for her and let her care for him, showing her parts of himself no one else had seen before. for that year, all his thoughts were occupied by her. his love for her grew incessantly, in ways one could almost call obsessive. he wrote about her in his notebook, learned how to bake so he could make her her favourite treats. he showed her his sanctuary, a little clearing tucked away in a forest of his hometown.

he remembered laying on the grass beside her, staring up at the clouds swirling high above. they talked but he couldn’t remember about what. when you were with a loved one the subject of conversations mattered little compared to being in their presence. he remembered her sitting up, twisting herself to look down at him with a soft smile.

looking back at that moment, he realised her smiles never quite reached her eyes.

still, he was so infatuated with her that he couldn’t see beyond rose tinted glasses.

time seemed to slow and he felt their surrounding fade away as he looked into her eyes, realising she was slowly leaning closer. hands clenching with anticipation, he hitched himself up on his elbows. but before he could kiss her a small reflection glinted in the sunlight and his eyes were drawn down to her ankle. the silver anklet glittering in the light, taunting him.

he knew it was a bad idea. he knew he shouldn’t have said anything. but he still looked up at her and quietly asked her to take off the anklet. when she asked why, that should’ve prompted him to come up with some stupid excuse.

but he loved her. he loved her so much that his heart betrayed his safety, previously unspoken secrets tumbling from his lips as he told her about his true identity. without hesitation, he admitted what he was. a bloodsucking vampire.

at first she didn’t believe him or, more accurately, she made him think she didn’t believe him. but his face stayed serious as his eyes begged to be believed, so she tossed the anklet in a seemingly random direction. and they kissed and they kissed and they loved and they held each other until the sun bade them farewell and plunged bellowed the horizon. when they got up to part ways, he missed the sinister grin on her face as she retrieved her anklet.

and she knew she caught him in her trap.

jang sooyeon was many things. calculative, determined, possibly a bit sadistic. but a fool was not one of them. from the moment she had set eyes on choi san, she knew she found what she was looking for in that school. every progression, every action, in their relationship had been carefully planned out to get her to where she was now—her back to his chest as he leaned against a tree stump in their little hideout.

she rested her head against the left side of his chest, just over his heart, staring ahead at the blades of grass and fallen leaves that danced in the autumn wind. a silence settled over them before she whispered a questions.

“sannie… would you do anything for me?”

“yes, of course. why do you ask?”

“but how far are you willing to go?”

he should’ve listened to his brain, the warning signals blaring at her words. but his heart—oh, his naïve, foolish, utterly hypnotised heart—begged and screamed for him to draw her closer.

“i’d do anything for you.”

“if someone bothered me, would you… would you kill them for me?”

he paused at that, glancing down at her. an almost hesitant “yes, anything for you, my love,” falling from his pursed lips.

all things considered, he should’ve seen it all coming. everything after that conversation felt like a blur up until his next memory. it was the first time he killed someone.

she had told him this man had been bothering her, insisting to spend a night with him despite her saying she was already seeing someone. though he was slightly irked by the smile that threatened to force itself onto her features as he agreed to take care of the man, he was more focused on the fact that another man dared to even look at her with such little respect.

so, after some digging, he found himself trailing behind the same man on a dark street. hood up, eyes fixated on him, making sure not to alert him. san’s eyes briefly moved to the entrance of an upcoming alley, deciding that would be the perfect opportunity.

ten minutes later, he walked out the other side of the alley. the corpse of the man left leaning against one of the cold walls, smothered to death.

had there been any reason that didn’t involve her, he may have felt some remorse. but he was convinced what he was doing was right, keeping her safe from this potentially dangerous man.

and then she let him drink her blood.

when she offered it, he was surprised and declined, telling her that he never expected anything in return for what he had done. but she insisted, pulling up her sleeve and baring her wrist. what more suitable way to pay a vampire than in blood?

when the first drop of her blood entered his mouth, he knew he wouldn’t be able to enjoy bagged blood ever again.

after that it became a cycle. he’d get rid of someone for her and then he’d go back to her apartment and she’d let him suck a few drops of blood from her. his once pure heart was slowly stained by something darker, despite how justified he was made to believe his actions were. he lost count of how many people he went after, but he knew it was slowly driving him to insanity. and even though she convinced him he was in the right for killing those people, his heart kept him awake most nights with those dark memories.

and choi san always listened to his heart.

he doesn’t remember when he brought his concerns up to sooyeon, but he remembers they were somewhere dark. it may have been during the period where he refused to go home. he had brought her to his house for dinner and as soon as she left, his parents wouldn’t stop giving him warnings and telling them that they sensed something dark in her. this led to an argument, ending with him slamming the front door and avoiding them for a month to move in with the love of his life.

he should’ve listened to them.

the tv illuminated the the room as he sat on the couch. he heard her footsteps before she emerged from the narrow hallway of the one bedroom apartment. a towel was wrapped around her hair and her fresh clothes clung to her body in areas that hadn’t been dried properly. he looked at her, trying not to get distracted by the way she sat beside him and pressed herself into his hold. he inched away so he could see her better, the changing light of the television illuminating her wonderful features.

“listen, i… i wanna ask you something…”

“is there something wrong, sannie?”

he paused for a long moment, trying to gather his thoughts.

“don’t you think all the killing is unnecessary? i mean, you know i love you… i don’t want to have to do all this just to prove that.”

“oh, but, sannie… these are people that deserve it, they’ve hurt me. would you really want someone to hurt me and get away with it?”

“no! no, of course not. that’s not what i meant. it’s just- it’s too much for me. we love each other, don’t we? we shouldn’t worry about what anyone else does. people bother me, too, but i don’t ask you to kill them.”

“you think that? you think we love each other?”

“well, yes…”

a sharp feeling of dread tugged at his intestine.

“i don’t love you, san. you’re a monster. how could i ever love someone like you?”

she said more, but he didn’t hear any of it. he could feel every fibre of his soul being torn apart; could feel his ribcage being ripped open to reveal that naïve, foolish and utterly hypnotised heart of his. a sharp pain in his chest had him tearing up as if she’d dug a knife into his heart and twisted it in his chest. but he knew she was right. he was a monster and it was a fitting punishment for such a monster.

to want someone so much—to have them in your grasp—and knowing they will never love you the way you love them.

the days after that melted together into a dull pile of memories. he returned home but didn’t tell anyone what had happened, locking himself in his bedroom and skipping meals. he sat on his bed and cried and cried and cried and cried until he could no longer feel anything. his heart had nearly gone numb and he came to the realisation that he would’ve much preferred it if she wrapped a silver chain around his neck and strangled the life out of him.

one time he found himself staring into the mirror, terrified at the person she had turned him into. every time he looked at himself, the same words repeated in his head. monster, monster, monster, you fucking murderer. and he knew it was true. he stared at his reflection, wondering if he had changed enough to turn into a new person, enough for it to be considered some kind of suicide of his persona.

he hated himself. he should’ve listened to everyone, he should’ve listened to his brain. not his no-good, useless heart. if it could even be called that anymore.

when the urge to drink blood lured him out of his bedroom, he found himself in the kitchen opening a bag of a-positive. the familiar liquid slipped down his throat and his hunger was satiated, but not for long.

that night they found out about the blood intolerance, sat in a vampiric doctor’s office after he collapsed and was rushed to the clinic. he thought he was dying, barely hanging onto conscience as his father picked up his limp body from the kitchen floor and placed him in the car. he woke up on one of those hospital beds, his parents, older sister, and his doctor standing around him. the doctor explained that if vampires only drank one blood type for many months, in rare cases it could lead to the body being unable to process all the other types.

something clicked inside his mind. she had killed him. killed his heart, killed his body, killed his soul. she was a murderer, too. he was merely just a shell of who he used to be. the scraps left of his heart and soul screamed for revenge. he had already killed so many people, this was just one more. maybe when she was finally gone, he’d be able to live life normally.

he thought it was odd, really. just a week before he loved her more than anything in the universe, and then he was creeping through her hallways with a knife clutched in his hand. a violent end to his devotion.

the floorboards of the hallway creaked as he crept his way to her bedroom. with a random kitchen knife gripped so tightly in his hands his knuckles turned white, his breathing went shallow. he revised his plan over and over and over again, replaying it in his head like a broken record. nothing could go wrong in the next few minutes, he couldn’t afford any mistake no matter how small. a droplet of sweat melted its way down his forehead and got caught on his brow, he wiped it away with the back of his hand and finally stopped in front of the door, open just a crack.

suddenly, he felt as if his throat closed up; one of the telltale signs of his body’s reluctance to commit this heinous crime. he should be used to it by now, but somehow it felt different when it was the woman he imagined a future with. he swallowed repeatedly, praying the dry tightness of his throat would be eased by his saliva. it took him several more minutes to muster up the courage and wrap his hand around the metal doorknob, pushing the door in as slowly as he possibly could and wincing quietly when the hinges whined

she seemed to be fast asleep, light snores resounding through the spacious bedroom. much like how he revised his plan repeatedly in his head, so did his head telling him to stop. he let his disparity take over as he silently shut the door behind him and walked to the bed like a predator stalking his prey. as his gaze settled on her, a fleeting sense of remorse could’ve swept through him had he been able to see her face, peaceful in her slumber. but, alas, there was nothing to be seen except a silhouette dimly lit by the moonlight beyond the windows.

she didn’t make as single sound as the first stab went straight to the base of her neck, blood pooling around the knife as he sliced through the throat. not a single sound gave away the fact that she was now dead.

he pulled out the knife, the blade suddenly feeling so much heavier in his hold as crimson liquid dripped from the metal and stained anything it landed on. the faint smell of iron wafted into his nose and shot straight to his brain, unleashing some kind of primal urge to continue stabbing at the body despite knowing she was dead. he sunk the knife into any part he could reach—her arms, chest, stomach, shoulders.

once his mind cleared and his rationality returned to him, all he could see was dark splatters surrounding him, staining the bed, her body and his own hands. bile rose to his throat but he swallowed down the bitter taste quickly, stumbling back and dropping the dagger, the ringing of the metal crashing against the wooden floor resonating through his ears. tears pricked at his eyes as he gasped for air. the squelching of the blade as he sank it into her flesh would forever haunt him, echoing through the corridors of his scarred mind.

as he looked away from his bloodstained hands and at her body, he found her head slumped in his direction, lifeless eyes lit by the moon staring right at him. san whipped his body around; he couldn’t stand looking at her any longer. the regret crashed over him like a wave, leaving an icy trail of what-ifs. what if she had been awake? would he have still gone through with it? and yet, as he thought through all the possibilities, he couldn’t help but feel a slight weight lifted off his shoulder.

he made quick work of getting rude of the corpse. wrapping a sheet around her and carrying her out of the building. it was just past midnight, not a chance anyone would be awake. he ducked into an alley and rolled her out of the sheet, placing her in the shadows where she wouldn’t be found. even if she did, it would just look like some angry drunk had done it. those cases were often dismissed by the police. he returned to her apartment and changed the bedsheets.

when the news of her death got out, his family moved away so he could finish the last two months of high school away from the pitiful and prying eyes of his classmates. he hated the way they looked at him when he walked in the halls. he wanted to scream at them.

stop looking at me like that!

like i’m a fucking tragedy.

stop it.

stop fucking looking at me.

after all of those events. he was sure life would never return to his numb limbs. until he met jung wooyoung and kang yeosang in his first year of university. he had pushed them away at first, but upon finding out they had something in common, he accepted their friendship.

with their friendship came five others; kim hongjoong, park seonghwa, jeong yunho, song mingi, choi jongho. they proved him wrong, he could feel alive again. at least with them. it was a rather quick bond, considering themselves a little clan. but as much as he adored them, he knew he would never love some like he had loved sooyeon ever again.

until he was proven wrong yet again. from the moment he met you, he came to the conclusion that there was a reason that old saying—never say never—came to be. don’t get him wrong, it wasn’t love at first sight. but he felt something, a warmth in his heart that he hadn’t felt in years.

he wanted you for his own safekeeping. he wanted your hair to slip through his fingers. he wanted that voice of yours to whisper in his ear, under the bluish moon. he wanted you to rip out his heart and carry it with you in a little box under lock and key.

and as he looked at you now, sitting on the couch with wooyoung and yunho as you laughed and squealed as you played some game with them on the tv, he wondered. he wondered if you’d hold his tainted fingers and kiss his lips. he wondered if you’d love him and his scars and his sickening skin. if you’d love his weak heart and guilty soul. would you love a monster?

when you left, he felt his insides light on fire as you pressed a fluttering kiss to his cheek when you passed him in the kitchen, when no one was looking. since that night in your bedroom, he knew he was doomed.

seonghwa joined him in the kitchen to wash the dishes. san but his bottom lip, trying to desperately swallow down a question that lingered on his mind for weeks.

“you want to say something,” seonghwa spoke over his shoulder, a smile evident in his voice, “say it, sannie.”

“do you…” he sighed and leaned against the counter. “will we ever tell her?”

god, he wanted to know how you’d react. would you embrace them and tell them it’s okay? he wanted to be loved by you so badly his hands trembled.

the question made seonghwa pause, glancing at him and turning off the sink. he took his time drying his hands, eyes turned to the ground. he sighed, walking over to san and placing an affectionate hand on his shoulder, giving it a light squeeze.

“she’s special, and i think she’ll come to know about us. but we can’t risk rushing anything. all in due time, san, all in due time.”

with one more squeeze, he dropped his hand and left the kitchen.

[ lilo’s notes ] i apologise for what i have written, though i do hope you all enjoyed it. i also apologise for the long wait, but i really wanted to write something of high quality for my dear readers!! happy new year, please take care of yourselves well <;33

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[writinginatree]

Adaptability Part 2

Relationship(s): Bodhi Durran/female!reader

Warnings: Canon-typical violence

A/N: Sorry this part is so much shorter than the first. I feel like it wraps the whole thing up pretty nicely as it is, though :)

Part 1

Being a third-year does have its perks, you muse as you sprawl on Bodhi's bed. It's bigger and more comfortable than yours because he's been appointed section leader, and gives you yet another excuse to spend all your free time in his room instead of yours. Not that you need excuses. Bodhi would stay glued to your side every second of every day if he could, and if anyone ever notices you slipping into his room for the night, they don't seem to care.

In the weeks since your return to Basgiath you have discovered that being blind makes people a lot more tolerant of any misbehavior from you in general. They think you're helpless, that it's just a matter of time until you die, anyway. Though even so, leadership still views you as enough of a threat that there have been attempts on your life, too. Not as many as on the others that were at Resson, but still.

The first time it had been close, the attacker taking you by surprise, but since then you've kept on guard, and sharpened your remaining senses with various exercises. Sneaking up on you isn't so easy anymore, especially since your echolocating skills are coming along nicely, too.

Upon your return, you had taken a trip to the archives with Bodhi the first chance you got to borrow some books on echolocation. Of course you couldn't read them yourself, but Bodhi and Imogen had been happy to help — there wasn't much else to do anyway in the five days between graduation and conscription day. One book on the bio sonar — another term for echolocation — of bats had been particularly helpful. From it, you had learned that the animals use it in two different ways. What you had been doing so far were CF calls — constant frequency. These calls have a big range, and are ideal for detecting the movement and velocity of a target out in the open, but as you already noticed yourself, they lack precision. The other 'modus', which is more suitable for close, cluttered environments, is called FM — frequency modulated. Those calls vary in pitch, a downward sweep through a range of frequencies to get all the details. They have a shorter range, but allow for a much more precise localization.

Getting the hang of frequency modulated calls is tricky — the first few days of experimenting with it almost drove you up the walls with frustration —, but you're getting there. It will never be the same as being able to see, of course, but that's okay. You've made your peace with being blind, and know you're still just as capable of being a rider as you were when you still had your eyesight. And when you do need help with something, you can always count on your friends.

Today challenges are starting, and despite all the training you've put in, you're a little nervous. This will be the first time since your injury that you're fighting for real, and not just against one of your friends. Judging by the way Bodhi is pacing the room, he's even more nervous than you.

"Relax," you say, rising from the bed and stepping into his path to pull him into a hug. "I'll be fine."

"I know," Bodhi says, but he's practically vibrating with nervous energy. "Just promise you'll be careful."

"Of course. Come on, let's get breakfast. You are done getting ready, right?"

Little things like that, your signet and sharpened senses don't help with. You feel the soft fabric of his shirt under your hands, but you can't tell if his shoes are tied properly, if he's done styling his hair, if maybe there's a speck of toothpaste left in the corner of his mouth. Though the latter is easy enough to find out — a swift kiss, and nope, you don't taste any toothpaste on his lips.

"Yeah, I'm done," he nods, and takes your hand, and you step out into the hallway together.

You don't need his guidance to navigate the halls anymore, but you enjoy the closeness, and if it makes others think he's guiding you — well, all the better, because life is so much easier when your enemies underestimate you. Though you suppose they will reevaluate if — when, Fonn's voice in your head insists — you win your challenge later. Violet somehow found out who your opponent will be — a guy from second wing, bigger than you, but only an average fighter. In theory, he shouldn't be much trouble for you. You watched him in the gym yesterday — or rather, Bodhi had, while you studied his technique with the help of your signet. Maybe that wasn't entirely fair, but denying yourself the advantage that comes with knowing your opponent would have been stupid.

You're glad when it's finally time to head to the gym. The anticipation is the worst part, the nagging worry that you're not ready, that no amount of training will be enough to get your fighting skills back to what they were before your vision was taken from you. You refuse to let these thoughts take hold in your mind. You'll be fine. In your training sessions, you'd managed to defeat both Bodhi and Imogen multiple times, and you know neither of them would ever do you the dishonor of going easy on you. If you can keep up with them, then some random idiot who's not even that good a fighter won't stand a chance against you.

You'll try if you can win without echolocation, but while the use of signets is technically forbidden during challenges, you won't let that deter you from using it should it become necessary. There is no way for others to detect the sound waves, so it's not like anyone will know what you're doing. The Riders Quadrant doesn't exactly accommodate disability, so you have to help yourself, even if that means breaking a rule here and there.

Bodhi gives your hand an encouraging squeeze when you're called onto the mat, and you know he'll be watching the whole time, ready to step in if anything goes wrong.

You take a deep breath and roll your shoulders as your opponent sneers about having to fight the only blind cadet in the quadrant, complaining that he was hoping for a real fight. He'll change his mind about that soon enough, you think to yourself. After you're done kicking his ass, he'll wish you were as helpless as he thinks you are.

You calm your breathing, turning your focus to the sounds your opponent makes — the soft rustling of his clothes, the drag of a boot against the mat as he shifts on his feet, his breathing, heavy in anticipation of the fight. You've spent endless hours in the gym with your friends, practicing to track an opponent by sound alone. Now it's time to put all that training to use. You'll resort to using echolocation if you need it, but first you want to try if you can win without it.

"Of course you can," Fonn scoffs in your mind. "That fool is no match for you."

"Hush. Let me focus."

Professor Emetterio gives the go, and you immediately attack. Your punch lands on your opponent's shoulder — he tried to twist out of the way at the last second. But you did hit him. You follow with another punch, not giving him any time to recover from the surprise of you knowing where he is. This time your fist collides with his cheek, and he stumbles a step backwards, but by now he has collected himself enough to take a swing at your face. You feel the rush of air preceding his fist and duck, using the opening to land a punch to his stomach.

A pained wheeze tells you the punch landed right on target. You kick where his knee should be, saying a silent prayer that you will manage to take him down and get him into a hold that will force him to surrender. The shorter this fight goes on for, the better. A thud tells you your foe has hit the floor just as intended, and you crouch down, managing to block a punch with one hand as you pull your dagger with the other. It takes precious seconds to find his throat, but then you have him at your mercy, leaving him no choice but to yield, unless he has a death wish.

Fonn's pride reverberates through you as you victoriously step off the mat to where you know Bodhi is waiting for you. You let out a sigh of relief. You did it. And it hadn't even been as hard as you'd feared it would be.

Bodhi's hand slips into yours as come to stand next to him as the next challenge is called. His lips brush your cheek. "I'm proud of you, darling. I knew you could do it."

You smile, leaning your head on his shoulder as you tap into the stream of Fonn's magic to follow the next match through your echolocation. Maybe she's not entirely wrong in constantly telling you you're the fucking best.

[waffles-art-writing]

Platonic!Task Force 141 X Medic!FtM!Reader

——————————-

Summary: You just wanted a quiet evening to fill out paper work, but you get a surprise visit by the team. They say you’re just like your brother, Price talks to you after you stitch up the boys.

Proofread: Yes when I was half asleep :) - so not really

Pairing: Platonic! Task Force 141 x Medic! FtM!Reader

WordCount: IDK

Age Rating: 15+ preferably

Codename: Stitch

KEY: Y/N - Your Name, L/N - Last Name.

Warning/Info: swearing, light description of injury, normal COD talk, banter, yelling, pissed off reader. Reader is Trans!

Request: YES! Thank you so much!

—————————

You tap your pen on your desk as you read over numerous files, all of them stating similar words to many questions. One of the younger medics is cleaning up the medical wing while you have locked yourself away in your office, shutting the world out as you pinch the bridge of your nose. You drop the pen on the dark oak desk, grabbing the files and storming out of the office, you are reading over a particular file in hand. Written in messy chicken scratch on the patient sheet is ‘Sergeant Mactavish’ and ‘Sergeant Garrick’ . You know them both, well. Too well in fact, yet they don’t know too much about you. You’ve patched them both and the rest of the 141 far too many times for you to count.

Price recruited you for your skills with field medicine, you weren’t always a medic. You were once in communication, but your brother convinced you to become a medic when he showed you some tips and tricks. Which you ate up like a starved animal. You never knew how much this would help further your career in the military, especially after witnessing the tragedy that has left a deep wound in your heart for the rest of your life.

You rip open the curtain that conceals a bed fromt he rest of the medical ward. Your hands clutch the papers in hand, arms crossing over your chest. “What the fuck did you do?” You sneer, your voice low as you eye the two sergeants, Ghost is watching from the side, Price next to him with a small smirk. “Oh hey doc!” Soap cheers, trying to keep you from blowing a fuse. Gaz is sitting there quietly, his hand clutching the side of his arm. “The first patient file I picked up is yours, Mactavish! And you have the heart to include Garrick on this horribly written excuse of a reason as to WHY! You both have either a bullet or knife in your arms!?” You yell, your voice cracking slightly as you growl at them both. Ghost is silently thanking whatever god is out there, that he’s not the one being scolded this time round.

“And YOU!” You spit, pointing at Price and Ghost with the papers, your hold on the flimsy sheets causing them to crumple. “You left them unsupervised?! How idiotic are you guys!?” You slap the papers down on the side table, grabbing some gloves out of their box from the wall. Pulling them on, you're seething. “I’m sorry Stitch… we didn’t mean to actually get hurt…” Gaz quietly mumbles as he looks at you from the other side of the Soap. They are both seated on the edge of the medical bed, Gaz by the foot do the bed, Soap up by the head of the bed.

You grit your teeth as you turn around. You’re slightly shorter than all the men in the room, not by much, but still shorter. Price can see how much like your twin brother you are, the same concern when it comes to caring for the team, the same rage that fuels you when someone has done something idiotic. “It’s fine… No, actually it's not! It’s not fine! You’re both grown men for Christ's sake, you both gotta learn how to stop being children.” You huff out as you stand in front of Gaz, he’s the one that got clipped by the bullet on his bicep. Your touch is soft when you work on cleaning the injury. “Look Lad, we didn’t mean to-” Soap goes quiet when you stare at him out of the corner of your eye. “You have the same look as your brother…” Soap states.

They all knew your brother, he was one of the field medics that helped them in the past on a few missions and especially when they got back. They always went to him for his help, but when the chopper got shot down that he was in, they couldn’t find anyone else they could trust to come on the missions. That is until they found out he had a twin, Price knew of you, he promised to your brother to help you through everything. He was one of the main supporters to help you through your transition, even teaching you how to shave. Which was an experience and half. Many small cuts on your jaw…

“Yeah well, I am his twin after all Mactavish” You huff, gently applying gauze to Gaz’s arm and wrapping it securely in a bandage. “Thank’s” Gaz states quietly, you nod as you change the gloves to a clean pair to start working on Soap. Price is talking to them both, Ghost adding a few things here and there while you just quietly work on stitching up the Scotsman’s arm. You securely stitch up the wound, giving Gaz his knife back after cleaning it. “Now, you two gotta stop doing stupid shit.” You growl as you finish wrapping Soap’s arm. He nods his thanks as he moves his arm around a little, a small wince forming.

“Take pain meds every four hours, on the hour… You don’t want to be chasing the pain like you always do…” you sigh, cleaning up the area. They all nod their thanks, taking the pain meds from you one their way out. Price stops just shy of the door. You turn to look at him, you notice he's staring at you. “Price?” Your voice is quiet, you feel like there's something on your face.

Price walks over, his hand coming up to your jaw. He’s noticed something, definitely. “Be more careful with that razor kid. Don’t wanna slice your neck open next time…” he sighs, his thumb running over the irritated wound on the underside of your jaw. How the hell did he notice that? You don’t have a clue, other than he just knows. “Yeah, I know… one of the rookies slammed open the bathroom door so I got spooked is all…” you chuckles lightly, shrugging as Price just smiles, shaking his head lightly. “You’ve done good kid… your brother would be proud.” He states, his hand squeezing your shoulder gently.

“Thanks… He would be happy to know I can still put the boys in their place even as a guy.” You laugh, Price chuckles along with you, he turns to leave. “You know where to find me if you need something, kid, see you at the debrief tomorrow at O-Six-Hundred.” He says over his shoulder, leaving you with a wave. You nod as you turn to walk back to your office, your hand subconsciously coming up to touch the small cut. You’re happy you have Price there for you, the team doesn’t seem to mind at all about your transition, if they even know anything about it that is.

Overall, working for the 141 has its highs and lows, but you still love them even if they drive you up the walls mad.

[late-draft]

Thoughts on Toph, Jet and Suki? For these last two the question is more about potential or what you'd like from them, more than about canon.

I'm curious about how you feel about some of my favourites. Don't feel pressured to reply and have a nice day. Love your art!

Hello! Thank you!! I'm gonna try to formulate my thoughts here, but I'll definitely have to expand on these in the future.

I think all of these three are strong, quality characters. Toph has most characterization and she and Katara share an aggressive temper, something I always thunderously cheer for; yet, they're vastly different despite that. The way I see it, Toph's situation is probably happier because the type of pain she carries is a feeling of betrayal and loneliness as she was restrained and oppressed by her parents and had no friends up until recently. She broke free. The writers said they wished there was more time to conclude Toph's struggle with her parents because it's an obvious pain point for her, for which she expressed several times a desire to fix. Fortunately for her, and unlike Katara whose pain comes additionally from traumatic loss which cannot be reversed, Toph's problems mostly can be solved relatively quickly by getting in her life what she was missing. She really is one of the best benders in the world and I was saying "Holy sh*t!" every time she fought because of the stuff she was able to pull off. She has a great dynamic with all characters from the gaang. Her animations of movement and bending are incredible - her character design, clothes and outer shape contribute to this (as shape and movement of clothes affect how animation feels a lot!)

(There's more movement in the lower part that emphasises groundedness?)

I think her discovery of metalbending has been undercut because she probably wasn't in actual danger, she was being brought to her parents who as it turns out, wanted her unharmed. If I had been writing, I would have had her be in a more dire situation which would have then made her discovery and subsequent victory all the more amazing.

She's a character who I think couldn't be stopped by any obstacle. That's literally how she's constructed as an archetype, compared to Katara who might face much more moral/emotional dilemmas or unsolvable situations rather than just challenging obstacles. But I should never say never; Toph did show a vulnerability in the form of (unfounded) guilt when Appa was taken. The narrative correctly found one of her character vulnerabilities because she's someone who theoretically "can't lose" so what happens when she lets her (only) friends down by failing? She didn't solve this guilt last time. It would most likely show up again later if similar situations happen. She's a very compassionate person who cares very deeply about people important to her. (I vaguely hearing about her dealing with guilt about her daughters in LoK, but I've only briefly watched LoK, I have no idea how that could have happened and I'm no longer sure how "canon" that show is considered to be, due to vastly different characterizations of many old characters…) Also her disability is never erased, neither does it make her helpless and her parents wrongfully use it as an excuse to restrain her. It's a part of her that isn't just a cosmetic character trait. She's perfectly capable on her own (if we ignore specific circumstances like being in the air), and I like how the show, instead of having her learn this, skips that part and advances onto Iroh helping her through anxiety and assuring her that it's also okay to accept help from friends in general, unrelated to her disability. Because she expanded this stress due to her parents' treatment onto thinking she should refuse all help in order to stay strong.

________

Suki is also one of my favourites. It's unfortunately clear that she doesn't have much characterization besides being a badass (which is spectacular, it's so cool that she's such a skilled fighter as a non-bender!) and a kind, no-bullshit person. These traits she has are very strongly repeated. Suki to me feels like someone who wouldn't suffer from social anxiety in the slightest. She could be the boldest in social situations alongside Aang, a confident extrovert. However, she feels like too stable of a character with no visible obstacles for her to overcome. I was disappointed by the Boiling Rock episode - yeah, a lot of things happened but it felt like nothing there affected the characters. Like in Toph's situation, what if it was tougher on them? The narrative did say Suki was Azula's favourite prisoner?! As much as I dislike torture, and this was a children's cartoon, imagine how strong Suki could have been to not break under worse conditions? But more importantly, I feel like she might have been really shaken from losing to Azula. How much would this harm her confidence in her skills, and how would she recover from this? Another one is how she might feel about Sokka's brief relationship with Yue, considering Suki had met him first. It would hurt her, and perhaps some feeling of guilt would arise because, how could she feel bad when Yue was no longer in the mortal realm? How would she deal with this? And maybe she could have an inverse parallel in Mai - if both of them had beef with benders, they might have different ways of overcoming this (Suki's being a healthy one). This thread would clearly be connected to the defeat to Azula, the prodigy bender. Because inversely, the narrative currently has Suki not feel anything from losing to Azula, not feel any envy towards benders in the series - that's kind of healthy for her, but boring to the audience. Plus, envy is one strong motivator to improve oneself. If not envy, then anxiety. Her and Kyoshi warriors' fight animations are also spectacular, I love the movement in the specific clothing they wear because you can't really see their legs. It's different from other characters and I heard their fighting style is inspired by aikido? The variety in combat styles is amazing! I think Suki could be additionally developed as one of the characters who puts the most focus on raw, physical prowess. So not just agility like Ty Lee, but strength and stamina too. Maybe Aang and Zuko don't have to be the only characters to push through sustaining scars from difficult wounds (if the show really doesn't want Katara to keep scars on her hands). Boiling Rock anyone? She and Sokka could match in this in the end when he hurts his leg in the final confrontation.

______

Jet is also a very strong character as he has a clearly defined role. He fulfils his purpose well. I really do have a feeling that he is sort of an inverse-Zuko: this doesn't mean I think he couldn't exist as a character on his own if Zuko didn't. But considering who ends up as part of the hero group, Jet additionally fills the role of showing something inverse of Zuko through the form he takes because he's a side-character (two birds with one stone). An Earth Kingdom character (Ally). Nonbender (masculine even without bending). No mercy for enemies. Successful and respected leader (of kids, but still) unlike Zuko who strained to get adults on the ship to respect him (loser). Jet's character design even has the more extreme version of Zuko's type of eyebrows!

This next part touches on shipping which can be skipped: ~ Most likely it's one of the integral parts he was created with. I'm not sure if I read this correctly, but I guess it's possible that Jet's character, which was made to fulfil the narrative purpose of showing a possible bad side to Allies who take things too far and kill innocents, in the visual and behavioural FORM he takes, was subsequently designed to also be someone Katara could project her forbidden interest in Zuko onto, but this time in a "justified" and "good" way, since Jet appears as a good guy freedom fighter. Then reality turns upside down at the end of the episode. (Narrative was planning to redeem Zuko since the beginning, so this was taken into consideration even while making S1. Katara gets a random FN crown in S1E13.) There is no hard evidence in the TEXT of the show for this, but to me it feels like this is what the narrative was doing. Thus there would be a high chance the narrative could force the two to clash in the future; and they do - I guess this is part of the reason why Jet physically fights Zuko. That fight grabs a bunch of threads: Zuko and Iroh are not safe/hidden even in Ba Sing Se, Jet was unable to overcome his visceral hatred for firebenders, Jet needed to be put in the brainwashing machine for some crime, the narrative needs a way to show that Zuko ISN'T integrating in the society outside of FN so it does it by having him refuse to join the freedom fighters gang, AND the two boys inevitably have to clash. I guess this might prove my suspicion, since the two had no interaction in S1 at all.

~

However, when the show implied that Jet had died, I was literally shocked. Mostly because it was Zuko who kept giving off the vibes of "dies in the end" type of character, so I was stunned to see this transferred onto Jet. (My bro was convinced Zuko was gonna die right up until the end when Katara healed him. Then we were both staring at the screen and I said "I thought you said he was gonna die?" anyway) I feel like Jet did manage to speedrun a sort of redemption arc though. The narrative COULD have pushed him more into "refuses to redeem himself" path if he had ended his run still fully obsessed with killing any firebender he comes across. That was one option. But the story decided to pivot into him managing to overcome brainwashing in order to save the heroes, this is what his arc ends on. I feel like both situations of him dying or surviving were fitting and satisfying. If Jet had survived, maybe I'd push him into an even more morally ambiguous spot, something pretty tangled in which he'd be an ally to the gaang but still antagonistic to Zuko in some way. Or some sort of indescribable negative tension existing there, with no easy or clear explanation Zuko could point to when confronted by someone from the gaang defending Jet. Then what if there was a plot by Ozai's supporters to secretly get the Earth Kingdom to attack the Fire Nation, which would then have Jet be tempted in aiding this. Secretly? Openly? Or not at all.

How cool his animations with hook swords are? They're that good that it feels like his weapons are extensions of his arms. It looks very believable and makes it seem like he's on an equal power level with benders. References used in animation definitely paid off. I'm sad his fight against Zuko didn't last longer or gotten a rematch! But I'm a simple person, I love watching energetic fights.

______

Now in terms of animation of ATLA in general, I was surprised to see that it's actually spectacular in many parts, even if it's not constantly as high as the one in LOK (whose S1 I watched first.) Before watching ATLA, I had the wrong impression that the story was childish, with continuous annoying tea jokes and the like, and thought "well the animation is worse than LOK, so why should I even bother." Then many times during my watch I had to gasp how skilled the animations were! Also, references for fights - amazing, I'll always support this. The fact that I'm now attempting to match ATLA's animation should be telling!

I'm not sure if I replied along the vectors of your interests, feel free to ask additional questions if you'd like.

[dreamingsnowflake2013]

Xie Wei started the story as the least likely to ever marry anyone, much less Xue Ning, especially out of the the men vying for her heart, but it turns out he's been the most suitable for her all along. It's not that she is merely oblivious to his feelings for her, she is blind to her own as well. She hasn't realised how much influence and sway he holds over her, a woman so fiercely independent and stubborn even to her own detriment, and how much he has been affecting her and her life.

She keeps quoting him, follows his advice and adopts his opinions and strategies, she learns to like go (which she previously hated) and even became a decent qin player. It shows he attracts her because she can sense how similar he is, she can identify and relate to him in many ways. In comparison, Zhang Zhe, who she put on a pedestal and glorified, never influenced her actions with his skills, opinions and behaviour. Her actions towards him were guided by guilt and regret.

A lot of people can see that Xie Ning has Xie Wei wrapped around her little finger, because he loves her (even if she doesn't know it yet), she is the only one who can reign him in, but it goes both ways. He is the only one who manages to control and tame her, an feat not even Zhang Zhe, the emperor or her father have never accomplished. She changes her mind and opinions, listens to him and follows his advices. She can uses their stock excuses, it's because he is her teacher, but that would be a lie. Xue Ning has never treated anyone else in both of her lives this way - with respect and almost unconditional trust that he would never betray or hurt her. If she put Zhang Zhe on a pedestal, where she can't never reach him, she put Xie Wei right next to her, as her equal, so close and touchable.

Wo while Xie Wei might have fallen first, but Xue Ning is falling hard without knowing, by the time she realises how much he means to her, she will be so irrevocably bound to him, she won't be ever able to live him.

When you find yourself at your most desperate and helpless moment, you always run to the person you trust or love the most, usually a lover or a family member, and Xue Ning time and time again runs to Xie Wei in such moments without fail. Because she trusts him unconditionally and believes he can accomplish miracles, even though he still doesn't hold the ultimate power as in the previous life. On a purely subconscious, instinctive level, she must feel that whenever she falls and gets her, he is there to catch her, raise her up, and comfort her. Xie Wei is not so much her teacher, but a guide or a guardian angel.

[snowblossomreads]

All Because of A Hat

Summary: [Y/n] attempts to sew a hat for her husband Elliott and finds that it isn't as simple as she would hope

A/N: LOLOL AND IN A FIC THAT WAS NEVER SUPPOSED TO BE HERE WE ARE. This is dedicated to my bestie the lovely and wonderful @smilingformoney and is based on the happy ending AU for The Eternal Summer (right here!) I hope this will make you feel better :) and I hope you know how much I love you to have banged out a fic this quickly (A day and a half innit?)

It had been almost a year since Elliott had first laid eyes on [Y/n] before he made plans to marry her and whisk her back to Australia with him. Only if she would have him course! She had already been forced to do so many things in her life unfit for such a sweet woman, and he for one, would make sure she would only do what she wanted from now on. 

Luckily for him, she was more than willing to go along with the crazy idea as she had fallen head over heels for the gun slinging pastoralist. Funnily enough, he had only come to make sure that she wouldn't end up homeless after her husband, his cousin, William passed away. 

To say getting acclimated to the weather in Australia was difficult was an understatement, but she had managed, and managed well. Learning how to sew more lighter dresses and skirts so that she could keep the sand away, but also ward against sun poisoning. Something she had gotten familiar with once, and did not fancy experiencing again. 

Bonnets were also a must in that department, and she had become quite skilled in making those as she would also make some of the ladies that would come to the station. But there was one thing she hadn't tried yet surprisingly enough, and with their anniversary on the horizon, she wanted to try her hand at it. 

"Excuse me sir?" [Y/n] called out as she went up to the shop keeper of the local tanning store. 

Elliott and she had made a trip into town with the others for more provisions, and she had asked to come within the guise of getting more things for her sewing project. It wasn't really a lie, as this was for a sewing project, but she didn't want to let him know what she was up to. 

He had a keen sense for when she was up to something, because not only was he a sharp shooter, but he had a sharp mind as well, and sneaking anything under his nose was almost impossible. Thankfully though, he didn't ask too much, only saying that he was coming with just in case he needed to protect her from wild dingoes or the stray kangaroo. 

"Would you happen to have material suitable for hat making? I was wanting to try my hand making some and thought this a good place to start for some materials."

The shop keeper, an old plump and friendly looking man with a large mustache, beamed brightly at her before starting,"Well hello there if it isn't Mrs.Marston!" His voice booming, but kind as he addressed her. "Why I think we just had a batch of leather finish tanning. Though you know, the shops over here sell some fine hats as well, why don't you also check on them?"

"Oh well thank you for the suggestion, but you see, this one is to be a gift for my husband. And I wanted to make it special," she smiled, already thinking about Elliott's reaction when she gave it to him.   

"Of course of course, any particular color you looking for?" 

Taking a moment, she thought about the dark blonde of his hair, and the hazel eyes of her Elliott along with what color would probably keep him cool before coming to an answer.

"Would you happen to have something in maybe a brown? Maybe a lighter shade?"

"I can certainly take a look! Give me one moment!"

Hobbling off to the back of the shop and leaving her to wait for him, it only took a few minutes before the man returned with three beautiful pieces of leather. Each no doubt could make a fine hat for her husband, but if she bought too much, he be on to her and probably figure out what she was doing. And that would absolutely ruin the surprise.

"Now this tan one right here, we just got in from Sydney and it's been quite popular for some of the hat makers out there I've heard," the man explained. "This natural sand looking one is a little different but if different is what you're looking for I think it go a long way! But," pushing the others aside and placing the third one in front he continued, "this one I think has a nice balance of color. It's a bit costly now but it'll make for a great hat! It will also go with just about anything I think!"

Eyes jumping from each of the samples he showed her, she quickly thought about how each color would look on Elliott and what other color hats he had. He didn't really have many others truth be told, and they were all a shade of black or gray. A little color wouldn't hurt, would it? Making her mind up she pointed to the last one.

"I think the hazelnut one will be just lovely! Could I get about one yard of it if you have that much to spare?" She asked as she began to rummage in her purse for payment. 

"Of course! I'll get that for you right away."

Cleaning off the counter of the samples, the owner cut the fabric for [Y/n] who promptly paid for it and thanked him as he wished her the best in her hat making adventure.

Hiding the fabric was a bit harder than acquiring it, as it was difficult to try and shove it somewhere where it wouldn't be seen, considering how bulky it was. So while making sure no one was looking, she quickly scrambled to the wagon, and hid it under some crates that were full of supplies they had been bought. Once she was sure no one would snoop under it, she rejoined Elliott who was at the general goods store.

"Elliott!" She called enthusiastically once she spotted him. 

Her voice had him turning to meet her bright smile as she approached, and he couldn't help the smile that grew on his face as she found herself beside him. 

"There's my little kola bear," he teased giving her a brief kiss on the lips before he hugged her close. "Find everything you needed?" 

"I did!" She beamed, looking up at him with eyes of adoration that made him mush. "There was a wonderful sale on some of the fabrics that I use to patch the boys' clothes up," she explained, as Elliott wrapped his arm around her waist and led them around to the other side of the aisle. "You know with how many of them there are, I might need to teach them how to sew one day."

That got a healthy chuckle out of him.

"Teach them how to sew? Ha! You may be a natural with a gun sweetheart, but I don't think any of my boys will be any good with a needle. Hardly any good with a gun sometimes!"

"Even if they aren't, that's okay, you don't have to be the best sharpshooter in Australia to be any good at sewing," she teased, garnering a smirk from him. "Patience is all you need, and I think I have plenty of that. Wouldn't you say so?"

"To deal with me? I say you have the patience of a saint."

Well, that wasn't very true now as she felt the sharp point of the needle prick her finger for the tenth time. This time it drawing blood from the poor abused digit, and drawing a sharp painful cry of,

"Ouch!!" From her lips, as she dropped the brim of the hat, causing the crown to fall right off of it as the whole thing tumbled on the ground. 

To say she had been struggling all day to get the brim attached to the crown was an understatement. She had first started by making little holes in the brim and crown so that they would line up and she could sew the thread into them to connect the two pieces. 

With how thick the material was, she had to use a bigger needle to pierce the fabric, and even still, it was a nightmare to get the string in because she didn't want the guiding holes to be too large. That had taken up multiple hours, and ended up with her poking herself a couple of times, as her thimble decided to fall off at the worst times. 

"Bloody stupid hat!" She hissed, in an attempt to calm the raging amount of emotions that swirled in her chest. Most of them being disappointment, as she swiped at her face to keep from crying. "Why did I ever think this was a good idea? Of course the first one is bound to turn out terrible but my lord this is ridiculous! I-."

The sound of heavy footsteps caused her to stop mid rant as she waited for them to pass by, not wanting anyone to know about her secret project, lest they tell Elliott. It came closer, and closer, until it stopped right in front of the door, and a puzzled look found its way onto her face.

"[Y/n]? Are you alright in there?" The unmistakable worried voice of her husband drifted into the room from behind the door, and her heart leaped in her chest at the sound. "Heard you shouting and I came hurrying to make sure you were alright. Can I come in?"

Scrambling to hide the hat in making, even though it looked nothing like a hat at the moment, she had just shoved the bits beneath some fabric scraps she had been using to patch up some clothes before the door cracked open, and Elliott peeked his head inside. 

"Yes, I'm okay! Come in!" She panted, as she dabbed her forehead, which had become damp with sweat from her rushed movements. "My thimble fell loose when I was trying to finish something and it pricked me a bit. Gave me a bit of a surprise," she explained as the door opened fully to reveal Elliott, who strode in with a look of concern etched on his features. 

The little crease between his forehead deepened when she had said that she hurt herself, and she could have sworn he quickened his pace across the room to her.

"Here let me take a look at that," he said, as he took her hand to examine the wound with great care. "Now I told you I would shoot anyone who ever tried to hurt you but." Taking the hurt digit to his lips, Elliott kissed the wounded finger, his mustache brushing against her, and making her laugh at how he tickled her.

"What is a man supposed to do when you go and hurt yourself?" 

A delighted giggle left her lips again as he kissed the injured digit once more, before he made his way to her lips to give it a quick peck.

"Maybe you could help me find some gauze or something to wrap it up," she suggested playfully. "And probably some cream for it as well?"

"I think that's a mighty fine idea. Now you stay right here, I have something just for that little scratch," he said, before he let her hand go and hurried out of the room.

It only took a few short moments for him to return. A triumphant smirk on his face as he strode towards her, chest puffed out looking mighty pleased with himself. Quite the stance for someone just looking for some fabric and cream.

"Here it is!" He announced proudly as he showed her the little jar and gauze he had procured.

The latter she recognized, of course, the first, not so much. It looked like some face cream the ladies at the general store would sell or some sun cream. However, this didn't seem to be any of that at all. Or well she hoped not as it wouldn't do much for her cut.

"What is it?" She asked curiously as she watched him place the fabric on the table before he opened the jar.

"Oh nothing special, just something I made for myself. Noticed a while back that all this heat and working with the livestock had my hands blistering something fierce," he explained as he scooped a bit of the substance out of the jar. "And decided to whip something up, here let me see that darling." 

Allowing him to take her hand back in his again, he gently blotted her injury with the cream causing her to sigh at the nice cooling sensation of it.

"Feels a lot better doesn't it?" He asked, as he continued to massage the substance into her skin causing her to sigh in relief. Not only from the ebbing of the pain but how nice it felt to have his fingers massaging her hand that she hadn't realized had been aching. "Heard from the doctors that it's good to keep the wounds moist while they heal. Keep the dirt out and makes 'em mend faster."

"Mmm and you made this all by yourself?" She asked dreamily, enjoying watching his larger hand engulf her smaller ones as he worked the cream into her skin.

"I sure did, some honey, a bit of water, and some oils and that's really all," he said as he let go of her hand, causing her to let out a disappointed sigh. "Here let's get this gauze wrapped around it as well." 

Closing the jar up and setting it aside, he grabbed the fabric he had sat on the table and wrapped her finger with the soft cotton. He made sure to wrap it just so that it wasn't too tight and that she could continue to work without any hindrance. A tailor's tool was their hands of course.

"Wow! Not only is my husband the greatest sharpshooter in all of Australia, but he can make jellies and creams as well," she praised as she took a look at the bandaged finger and wiggled it to make sure it wasn't too tight. "What other secrets are you hiding under that hat of yours, Mr.Marston?"

"What other than those two?" He started with a tip of his hat and a grin. "Well other than those two, I guess it would be how if I had to choose between being the best sharpshooter in Australia and being your husband. I would pick you every single time." 

Her cheeks flushed at his comment, and her head fell to hide her bashfulness at his statement and Elliott couldn't help but chuckle at how cute she was.

"I said secrets, not something everyone in Australia knows," she laughed as she gently swatted his chest causing him to join in on the laughter. "For the record, I would choose you every time as well," she admitted as she wrapped her arms around his waist and looked up at him as a warm smile greeted her. "Thank you very much for taking care of my finger darling. You did very well and I'm sure it will heal up just nicely with that secret cream of yours."

"Of course, it's my responsibility to make sure my sweet kola is safe. Furthermore." A roguish smirk appeared on his lips as he leaned down and bumped her nose with his. "I wouldn't want any other man to put his cream on you, that's solely my job." 

Pulling away quickly from him, he chuckled seeing her slack jaw, and wide eyes at the little innuendo he had let slip.

"Elliott!" She shouted, about to reprimand him but was shut down completely as he took the chance to pepper her face and neck with playful kisses. 

Her shoulders shook with laughter at how his mustache tickled her, and she wiggled in his hold, only for him to hold her tighter as he rubbed his mustache over her face as he kissed her. By the time he had finished, they were both a laughing mess, and she had somehow knocked his hat over during the whole ordeal.

Untangling their arms from one another, [Y/n] picked up the hat, dusting off invisible dirt from it before offering back up to her husband. Who graciously accepted it with a thank you.

"Now as much as I enjoyed that, don't you have some work to be doing out there? If you're not careful, the boys will come looking for you."

"Let them come looking, all they'll see is a man loving his on his wife," he announced proudly causing her to once again feel a bit flushed. "I would say that they could handle things fine without me, but lord knows that would be a lie."

"Oh they aren't that bad El. Coogan's really quite brilliant with the sheep you know. They follow him around like he's their pa! It's really quite a sight actually," she giggled to herself as she remembered how the fuzzy animal would immediately gather around the tall man when he went to tend to them.

"Even so, they have a lot to learn those boys and it is my job to teach them. Even if some of them need a more heavy handed approach." 

"Still, do not be too hard on them, some of them are only still boys," she spoke gently as she went to straighten his vest and smile at him causing him to soften. "I'll be here if you need me my love, working away as usual."

Not one to argue with [Y/n], he acquiesced with a nod. 

"Hopefully with no more injuries? Though I don't mind coming back in to rub some cream on you and bandage you up." 

"I will endeavor to make sure I stay injury free as long as possible." She laughed, shaking her head at his antics.

Grinning at her, he leaned down to give her one last kiss. This one, more passionate than the others as he let out a little groan when he felt her hands reach for the nape of his neck. Sighing against his lips when he pulled away, [Y/n] leaned up and gave him one more kiss before he was back off to tend to his men and whatever else he had been up to.

Watching him retreat, she cupped her cheeks with both hands, before scrunching her shoulders together and wiggling. God did she love him. He was everything to her, and she be remiss to let something as small as being pricked by needles stop her from finishing his hat. 

She had been pricked a many of times as an apprentice and many times afterward! But never did she stop, even if it was out of necessity at times. Still though, she was going to get this hat finished one way or another. And it was going to be brilliant just like her husband who deserved it!   

With a renewed spirit and a bandaged finger, she went back and unearthed the pieces of the hat she had been working on. Determined to finish it as soon as possible.

"Elliott are you busy at the moment," [Y/n] asked as she peeked her head into his office where he was sitting at the desk.

A pipe in one hand and his head lowered as he reviewed some ledgers that were spread out across the surface, he seemed deep in thought. Though at the sound of her voice, his head popped up and when he saw her, a smile grew on his face.

"Never too busy for you my little kola," he responded, going to put out his pipe, as she had once pointed out how the smell of tobacco made her feel unwell. "What do I owe this lovely surprise from my equally lovely wife to?"

"Oh stop it," she giggled as walked in, her hands behind her back as she hid the wrapped gift from sight. "I think I'm more of a distraction than anything."

His burrows furrowed together at that, and a little frown appeared on his lips. "Of course you're not! And even if you were a distraction, you're an absolutely beautiful one, I be an absolute idiot to complain," he huffed as he stood up from behind the desk and stretched his limbs that had begun to ache just before she had come. 

Watching how the white button up he donned lifted and showed a bit of his stomach, and the sparse hair around his tummy, [Y/n] couldn't help but bite her bottom lip. God just the slight show of his skin had her warm in more places than one and it drove her crazy. But no no! She had a mission, and she wasn't going to get distracted because of how handsome he was. Granted that truly wasn't up to her.

"Now tell me sweetheart what do I owe the pleasure of you gracing me with your wondrous presence," he teased coming out from around his desk to stand in front of her. Though not without first giving her an affectionate kiss on the forehead that she accepted happily.

"And what's that you got hiding behind your back?" He inquired as he peered around her, trying to see what she was holding, only for her to turn in the opposite direction so he couldn't see it.

"Oh well it's just…" Her words trailed off as she averted her eyes from his gaze feigning interest in the dust on the wooden floorboards. 

His gaze was so intense yet so gentle as it stayed on her, making her feel safe and loved which was all she had ever wanted in life. It warmed her heart, yet made her even more nervous about the gift which wasn't quite perfect, but she hoped he would love it still, as she had put all her love into it. 

"[Y/n]?"

"I don't know if you recall, but it was around this time when you came to London and swept me away from that place that only held memories of hurt and misery," she started, meeting his soft gaze that was squarely focused on her as he listened. "And being with you, being married to you, it's been absolutely wonderful! You've shown me so many things. Things I never thought I would be able to see in my life. A-and I just wanted to make you something so that I could show you how much I love you because you always show me how much you do. It's something you could use every day so that even if you're away in town or something a bit of me will be with you."

Pausing, in her little speech, as her fingers played nervously with the item, still unsure about it, she took a deep breath to steel her nerves. 

"So I made you this," she finished as she presented the carefully wrapped hat to Elliott whose eyes lit up with surprise at the sudden gift. "It's not much, and by no means is it perfect but I still hope you'll find some use for it."

Eyes flicking up from the sudden gift to her face and back down again, Elliott took the package from her with such care, that you would have thought he had never received a gift before with the way he held it. Still in shock from the surprise, he looked at [Y/n] with a dumbfounded expression.

"For me?" He asked.

She had to keep the laughter that was bubbling in her throat at the disbelief on his face. It wasn't as if this was the first time she had given him something. On the contrary, she had made him some handkerchiefs before with his initials embroidered in them. A bit of a nightmare those things were but they didn't compare to the sweat and literal blood she put into the hat. 

"Of course for you my love! Who else would it be for? Go on open it or I think the anticipation may kill me before then."

Still a bit unsure about it, he did as she asked him, as his curiosity was already getting ahead of him. With  

"Well I'll be," he murmured once he undid the wrapping. Admiring the hat with awe and looking at the fine detail of it as she continued her little rambles.

"I wanted to make you something useful." She replied shyly as she watched him stroke the brim of the hat, before turning it down to look at the inside of it. Oh how she loved the way he would always take interest in the things she made, another reason she wanted it to be perfect for him."I noticed that you only have black or gray hats, and I think they are all lovely, but I wanted you to have something different. Light colors help keep a person cooler and you're always working so hard outside."

"My god [Y/n] this is beautiful! Don't tell me this is the first one you've ever made because it's damn near perfect!"

Blushing at the unexpected praise, knowing this was not her best work she nodded her head yes, "it is, and it's not really that great, I think the crown may be a bit out of line if you look real close. I-I can make you another one to it's just-."

Whatever else she was going to say was swiftly cut off when she felt his arms wrap around her before he picked her up and kissed her. Her arms found their way around his neck to steady herself, and she could only moan in delight as he devoured her lips with a passion that she hadn't expected. All because of a hat. 

But it was more than that of course.

"El," [Y/n] sighed breathlessly as he kissed her over and over as she stroked his cheek before tangling her fingers into his hair.

"You drive me wild do you know that," he groaned out as he pulled away from her, his cheeks flushed and his eyes alight. 

"As if the Outback hasn't driven you that way already," she teased kissing his nose and shyly smiling as his sonorous chuckle tickled her ears pleasantly.

Letting her go, Elliott placed the hat on his head and secured it with the cord that hung from it while she straightened her dress as it was all ruffled up.

"How do I look?" He asked, which caused her to look up, and be captivated at the sight of him wearing something she had painstakingly put so much effort into.

"Devilishly handsome," she announced, once she was able to get over her awe. But not before she clapped her hands and pressed them against her lips, admiring how the color of his hair and eyes paired well with the hazelnut color of the hat. "Maybe you could model hats for me if I decided to make more?"

"A gentleman would never say no to a request like that from his wife," he said tipping the hat towards her and causing her to laugh. "But only on one condition."

"And what's that?" 

"That I get a new hat every once in a while from you of course."

Even though she knew she would never say no to him, she placed her finger on her chin as if she was thinking. Only a moment passed before she snapped her digits together and held her hand out to him, signaling him that she would shake on it.

"You have yourself a deal Mr.Cowboy!"

A deep chuckle rumbled in his chest as he took her hand and shook on the deal. But once done he didn't let go, only to have [Y/n] squeal in delight as he once again pulled her close to him and laid his chin atop her head. 

Slowly they rocked side to side, enjoying each other's company, while the sounds of the Outback began to increase in volume as dusk began to set itself up in the sky. 

"Lovely you know," he muttered, burying his face into her hair, inhaling the scent that was distinctly hers which comforted him in a way nothing else could.

"Hmm? The hat?" She guessed, not really thinking about anything else as she basked in his arms and his presence.

"Yes the hat is very lovely. But," he paused, as he pulled away from her just to be able to look at her. "I mean you sweetheart. There's nothing else on this earth that could compare to how sweet and lovely you are [Y/n]. Nothing that could shine as bright as you either, you know that."

"Oh El stop it," she said going to swat his chest with a sheepish look. "It's not nice to tease a lady you know."

It was infuriating how shy he could make her feel. Even with them having been husband and wife for a year already, she was still not acclimated to how freely he complimented her. All of it was full of sincerity and love that had been so scarce in her life. And now that she had so much of it, she didn't know what to do with it other than be overwhelmed with happiness.

"But it's the truth, you're absolutely lovely my little kola, special in every way."

Lifting her head up, she started at Elliott. A smile on his thin lips as he looked at her, and even though something inside her wanted to protest about how sweet he was. She tampered it down, as she could never doubt his words. So instead she went and cupped his cheek with her hand, and lifted herself up just a little so that she could give him a little kiss on the nose, before going to peck his lips.

"I do so love you Elliott." She sighed against his lips.

"And I love you as well."

"Mmm, more than you love your guns?"

"Don't joke darling of course I love you more," he laughed as he placed his hand back around her waist.

"I only wanted to make sure," she said before joining in his laughter.

Their shoulders shook as they carried on laughing with one another, and it felt so good. It went on for a little while longer before their voice lowered as they gathered themselves. But before letting her go, a thought appeared in Elliott's brain that caused a smirk to appear on his features.

"That reminds me," he purred as he leaned near her ear causing a familiar shiver to run down her spine. 

Oh?

"You've given me a gift yet I'm leaving you empty handed. Now that innit husbandly like of me is it?"

"Well, truthfully I wasn't going to say anything considering you give me all I could ever want," she said sincerely as she saw the shine in his eyes. The one he would get when he was feeling particularly mischievous. "But who am I to deny my husband wanting to gift me something."

The smirk on his face grew even wider as he grabbed her hand, pulled her close, and gave her a rather passionate kiss. His tongue traced her bottom lip and she barely had a chance to give him entrance before he was eagerly exploring her waiting mouth.

Squealing in pleasure she let him lead the kiss and then let out an equally delighted laugh as he pulled away from her. Both of them were breathless but excited as he grabbed her wrist and pulled them in the direction of their bedroom. She knew she was in for a long night with her Elliott. All of it because of a hat. 

Maybe she would make them more often if the gift she received back was this.

[imnotjaesblog]

Part 2: The Skater

Warnings: Smut, Fingering, Oral (F.m receiving). Y/n Dom and sub YangYang.

He’s so pathetic and down bad for y/n it fucks with his skills.

Brief Summary: YangYang like most boys on campus fantasies about Y/n. She’s at the top of every boys fuck list only no one can seem to make it come true. After Si Cheng’s lies, the boys are more determined to take their chances with Y/n so they don’t question why all of sudden she’s giving them attention. YangYang falls victim to her manipulation and falls deeper into his fantasy. Only it ends up ruining his chances on truly fulfilling them and we discover he’s just like his friends.

Words: 4k

MINORS DO NOT READ !!!!!

Enjoy:)

The last couple of days you had spent your time getting closer and closer to Yangyang. Today after class he was inviting you to the bridge where he and his staker friends skated, only this time it would be just the two of you. You walked beside him on the pavement skateboard in his hand. Yangyang had a different aura to him than some of his other friends. He was much more dorky and talkative compared to Jisung. Which is why you weren't surprised you had to make the first move on him, well Wendy.

After giving him Wendy's number they had been texted one another gathering enough information for you to use. While you spent your time texting with Haechan who you found on an online game, just a day before you spoke with Yangyang. You felt so grateful to have such friends who lied to you and helped you out with your plans.

The times you did spend with Yangyang in person whether it was in class or a park he never made a physical move on you. You still remember his face when you first approached him outside the M building where he sat with some of his friends. You stepped up to him immediately catching everyone's attention. The boys and girls sitting with him all straighten themselves up at your presents.

"I love your hair today Y/n," one of the girls said. You looked her away, eyes leaving Yangyang for a moment. Most people always felt like they needed an excuse to talk to you just to be seen with you by their friends. So many times you've seen friends put each other down just to get a glance from you. Had this really been what it came to? The girl in front of you knew you were here for Yangyang and yet every time she only fixed her posture and applied more lip oil to her lips when you arrived.

The skater girl with the braids always made sure to compliment you when you were around. She wanted to be the first to grab your attention just like everyone else. She wanted to be the first person you saw.

You smiled at her but turned your focus back to Yangyang. He smirked as you walked up to him. His friends sent him teasing side glances, a few even nudging his shoulder. You ignored it along with a few whistles. He was sitting on top of a lunch table another boy next to him. You went to sit beside him the other boy instantly standing up allowing you to take his seat. Yangyang's body followed yours turning to face you better. "Yangyang right?" you asked fingers lightly tracing up his arm. His friends looked at one another the girl signaling everyone to leave, they did leaving you both alone.

"Yea that's me," he responded nervously. Yangyang had never been approached by such a pretty girl in his life, truthfully no girl had ever approached him period. He was more stunned that you would talk to him, let alone even remember his name.

"Do you need something?" he asked trying to justify in his brain that you were here for anything else but what he hoped. You shrugged sitting closer to him. "Nothing in particular. I've just seen you around on your skateboard. I've always wanted to learn how to ride," You said batting your lashes at him. He almost choked but adjusted himself eyes meeting yours. "You want me to teach you?" he asked making sure he heard you right.

"If you are the one offering," you nudged his arm. He nodded taking out his phone. "Cool. I have a bunch of classes to catch up on but I'm free Friday," he said extending out his phone to you. You took his phone in your hands putting in Wendy's number. You smiled handing the phone back to him. You stood eyes still on his, bright smile on your lips. "Great I'll see you then," You said placing a kiss on his cheek before you ran off to Wendy who waited in her car.

You waved goodbye when you reached her car. He waved back a dazed look on his face watching your hips sway side to side as you stepped into her car. Once the car door slammed shut he fell back onto the table a grin on his lips.

And that's how you ended up under the bridge on a Friday night learning how to ride a skateboard with Yangyang and his friends. You swore these boys were making it too easy.

He placed a white helmet on your head. "This is for your protection, I don't want you to fall and get hurt," he said tapping the plastic. You nodded clipping it on. He took your hand in his guiding you onto the black skateboard. You could hear others riding around you. Wheels grazing the gravel beneath them. Others jump over crates and empty boxes doing tricks. Yangyang kept your focus on his hands now placed on your elbows. "Hold on tightly," he said to you as you copied his motion placing your hands on his elbows. You nodded acknowledging his instructions.

He held onto you as pulled you along with the skateboard. "Remember like I told you before. It's all about balance," he said you could feel his grip start to loosen. "Uh Yangyang what are you doing?" you asked starting to worry. You began to panic feeling him let go. he bit back a smile watching you start to ride away. The minute he let go you started to ride faster. Luckily there wasn't a hill or else you would have gone too fast but the speed you were going was still terrifying.

"Yanyang! YANGYANG!" you screamed he chased after you. "Just extend your arms and try to relax," he shouted seeing you ride off. You shook your head looking around for something to grab just to prevent you from failing. You tried your best to relax your wobbly legs and control your breathing. You extended your arms out balancing yourself. Eventually, your eyes opened and you felt your speed decreasing the ride wasn't as bad anymore, but still, once you got off you were going to kill Yangyang.

Your victory smile started to fade once you saw a much of crates together. You didn't know how to turn yet and felt your legs begin to wobble again. Yangyang had stopped chasing you, smiling and watching as you slowly road down the path. However, his eyes widened once he saw the crates. He grabbed his skateboard seeing your pace pick up. He threw it on the ground, got on top, and rode towards you.

The wind breezed past your exposed skin the faster you traveled, inches away from the crates. You braced for the impact putting your arms up and blocking your face. You felt the skateboard come to a halt hitting a rock. The brake jerked you forward, you slipped placing your hands out to catch your fall only it never came.

You felt someone’s hands around you holding you tightly. They picked you up helping you stand straight and dusting you off. Once your eyes opened and you realized who it was your brows furrowed sending YangYang a glare. He sent you an apologetic smile but you rejected it. Pushing past him and heading to his car. He followed behind you picking yours and his skateboard off the ground.

“Y/n please I'm sorry,” he said choking back a laugh. You continued stomping your way back to the car. You, annoyed, licked your teeth scoffing. You stop turning to face him. “So you think this shit is funny,” you said causing his eyes to widen. He shook a step back in defense. “I mean in my defense you are wearing a helmet-“

You removed the helmet from your head clipping it from around your chin. Once it clipped you snatched it off your head chucking it at him. He swerved it with a shocked expression. He turned around picked it up off the ground and ran to his car. He quickly opened his backseat throwing the items inside. He heard his car door slam and sighed before he opened his side of the door.

“Look I’m sorry about today,” he said sitting beside you. You crossed your arms over your chest facing towards your window. “I shouldn’t have let you go. I should have stood beside you and helped you like I promised I would. Can you forgive me?” He asked with a small pout. You sighed nodding your head. You rolled your eyes as you faced him. “I guess so,” you respond causing him to smile. He started his car driving out of the lot and onto the road.

“Even though I almost died today. I had fun,” you said eyes looking towards the sunset in front of you. YangYang looked in your same direction nodding his head in agreement. Just as he went to respond he felt your hand creep up his thigh. His breath hitched in his throat. The words he wanted to speak now stuck. His eyes tried to watch the streets ahead but he couldn’t help his focus on your hands so close to his forming bludge.

“Y/n what are you doing?” He asked eyeing the way your hand inched closer to him. You giggled bagging your lashes up at him. The car continued to zoom across the side of a Mountain, few cars passed by. You bit your lip watching every detail of his face to catch his reaction to the simplest touch. Stupid boy you thought.

“I’m just thank you. For saving my life,” you said through a smile. He gushed shaking his head. “All I did was ride my skateboard to you. It’s my fault you almost fell,” he said modestly. You shrugged smile still on your lips as you reached his button. You pushed it through the hole of his jeans. “Still you came to get me. I could have gotten hurt. Maybe even break a bone. But I didn’t,” you said darkly. He lifted his ass allowing you to pull down his jeans. He quickly checked seeing your hand outline his concealed cock. He groaned under your touch shivering at the sight before him.

Never in a million years did he think this would happen. You were his fantasy girl. He envied Si Cheng for being able to touch you. How badly he wanted to be him the night of the party. Have the confidence to ask you on a date and take you. He always felt guilty late at night scrolling through your Instagram like a perv. Taking himself in his hands and fucking into his fist at the thought of you.

He couldn’t wait to through this in Si Cheng’s face.

“Oh fuck,” he moaned feeling your hand take out his cock. You jerked him in your palms gripping him tightly. You leaned closer to his ear placing a wet kiss on his neck. “Take me home and I’ll let you touch me,” you whispered. He pressed his foot on the gas zooming by all the cars beside him.

In no time you made it to your apartment complex. The sun was already set and you pulled out your keys. Walking into the lobby and quickly thanking the door man YangYang couldn’t help but gawk at inside of the large building. He knew your parents had money. But he didn’t know they had this much money. Walking ahead you turned noticing the boy feeling up the leather couch. You quickly grabbed his arm yanking him into the elevator.

Once you reached your apartment you pushed him up against the door a smirk on your lips. You placed a passionate kiss on his lips. With nerves humming through his skin all his hairs stood up. You felt his sudden shyness, taking his hand you brought it to your stomach. You released from his lips straight into his brown eyes. “You want to feel something?” You asked placing a soft kiss on his lips. When you pulled away his eyes were still closed. Lashes dusting his cheeks. He nodded letting out a hush “Yeah,” as he laid his body against your door.

You took his veiny hand sliding past your shorts and into your soaked panties. You bit back a moan feeling his fingers explore you so effortlessly. YangYang groaned feeling a drop of you drip onto his finger. “Fuck Y/n. Your so fucking wet,” he hissed thumb rubbing circles on your clit. You took his other hand guiding it up your breast. He squeezed your tit just above your t-shirt. His index finger extended from his thumb reaching your tight hole. He circled it teasing you. He had opened his eyes watching closely as your brows furrowed from annoyance.

You opened your eyes a smirk on your lips you leaned forward feeling his finger dip inside you. You bit back a moan biting your lip and shuddering at the feeling. YangYang groaned bucking his hips forward and humping you against your leg like a damn dog.

“Aw look how pathetic you are. Humping me like some kind of puppy,” you pouted staring into his dark eyes. Your hand crept up behind him grabbing hold of his hair. “Keep fucking these fingers into me puppy and I’ll let you fuck me for real. Or maybe I should let you use your mouth just to see if fingers are as good as your tongue?” You teased. His knees buckled his fingers almost slipping out of you.

He couldn’t believe how filthily you were. At least your mouth. All this time, your whole innocent act was to cover up how much of a freak you were. He started to feel lucky being able to have this like this. He wondered if you spoke to Si Cheng that way. Let him touch you and kiss you like he was. He had to do it better. He had to be better than Si Cheng.

“Yes,” he growled.

“Yes to what?” You asked rolling your hips forward. His finger jerked faster slipping another one inside you. The squish sounds from your pussy could be heard in the dark hallway. “I wanna taste you, please,” he begged. You pulled your fingers out of him whining at the loss. You unlocked your door watching through the corner of your eyes as he sucked into his two fingers.

You opened the door pushing him inside. You locked it throwing your bag and keys to the side. He as well as you removes your shoes. You walked over to the couch pulling your shorts down as well as your panties. YangYang watched the door placing his shoes next to yours. You sat legs spread on your couch. The arm covering his view from seeing you. You laid your head back eyeing him, a mischievous gleam in your eyes. Your hand beckoned him forward.

“Come on baby don’t keep me waiting,” you said with a sad smile. You leaned forward resting on the arm of the couch. “I feel so cold like this. Come warm me up,” you pleaded. He rushed over almost tripping at your command. Once he reached the other side of the couch he instantly fell to his knees eyeing your glistening pussy. His mouth felt dry. He panted at the sight of you. You brought your hand down your stomach and to your folds spreading them apart. YangYang groaned hand reaching below to squeeze himself.

Apart from you for a moment felt bad. After a nice date, you were using this boy to get off. Then again that's what he and his friends did to girls. They fucked them then ditched them and their main goal was you. Your lips tighten in heavy thought. You wouldn’t let that happen, you can’t. Si Cheng can’t get away with this and never can his friends.

You waved your hips back and forth putting your face back on. He shook himself from his thoughts. Leaning forward he licked his lips letting his tongue latch onto your pussy. The muscle danced through your folds. Slurping and sucking quickly on your clit. He brought his hand up to your stomach pushing you back down his mouth slurping up your juices. You rocked your hips against your mouth for some added friction. YangYang wasn’t half bad but you could tell he was only doing his best because he wanted to impress you.

You knew some of the girls he hooked up with. His list wasn’t as long as Jaehyun’s or Johnny’s for the simple fact that compared to them he had no game. Usually, guys like him made up for their skills. While YangYang wasn’t bad you wished he had possessed some of those skills. However, his hands were much more skillful. So it got you excited when you felt his hand creep up to your hole.

He slipped a finger inside you pushing it deeper into your pussy. You moaned at the feeling of him so deep. He spread you farther apart with his other hand holding you down. Wetting his finger with your juice he slipped another finger inside you fucking into you quickly. He bucked his hips into your couch. His eyes looked up towards you and saw your back arch off the couch encouraging him to continue. He fucked his fingers harder and faster into your pussy. Curving them upwards and grazing the sweet spot inside you that hand your eyes popping out of your head.

You felt the knot in your stomach approaching. Clenching around his fingers only made him go faster. He groaned into your pussy eyes rolling back. He felt so high off the taste of you. He could do this all day if you let him. Your hands in his hair holding onto his tightly fucking your clit against his hot mouth. “Fuck baby I'm gonna cum,” you moaned feeling your climax inching closer. You groaned at the feeling, releasing all over his veiny fingers. He groaned into your pussy stuffing you back up with your release and riding out your high. You slowly came down from your high feeling a wave of exhaustion take over you.

He released his mouth from your hands moving towards his pants button. He leaned towards you undoing his pants but your foot on his chest stopped him. You slowly pushed him back down onto your couch seeing his dick stand proudly in the air. You shook your head sitting up.

“You don’t get to fuck me, baby. You made a choice. You choose to taste me and I let you,” you said mockingly. He frowned a whine escaping his lips but you stopped him. “No whine,” you said shaking your head. “That was your choice. You can go,” you said turning away and picking up your phone. You opened it scrolling through Instagram. He scoffed dick still hard and out of his jeans.

“Are you serious? What did you just invite me over here to fuck you then what kick me out?” He asked feelings hurt. You scoffed chuckling while looking at your phone. You looked up at an apologetic smile on your face. “Oh, I’m sorry. Did you think I’d let you fuck me after that poor mouth game you have? I mean honestly, I Don’t get how you can fuck around with as many girls as you please and none of them have warned each other about your tongue or lack of,” you said turning back to your phone. You pointed to the door behind you.

“Doors that way,” you said watching as scoffed standing up to leave. He pulled up his boxers, and jeans just behind. He stood up to your door big you went up to him after putting on your panties. You turned him around gripping onto his chin. He looked you dead in your eyes.

“Also. Tell anyone about this. I dare you,” you said eyeing him. He lost some of his toughness at your threat. He gulped returning to the YangYang you saw earlier. He nodded grabbing his shoes and slipping them on. “I promise I won’t tell,” he said slipping past you and then through your door. You sighed a smile on your face as your front door closed. You locked it walking to your room. You undressed the rest of your clothes and walked into your shower washing away the sticky feeling you felt.

----

Meanwhile, Yangyang went home both frustrated and embarrassed. His dick went down after watching a video on Instagram of a girl popping her pimple. He shuddered grossily at the thought. When he reached the front door of his shared house he let out a sigh. He held his keys in his hand but didn't push them through the hole. Had he just been played? I mean how could he have been so stupid to believe you of all people wanted him the way he now so desperately wanted you? And everything you said about his tongue, was he that bad?

He huffed kicking a nearby rock. Just as he went to leave he felt a hand on his shoulder. "You okay?" the voice asked. Yangyang froze turning to see Si Cheng standing next to him wearing a bookbag. He nodded but didn't speak. The words caught in his throat. He knew he couldn't tell Si Cheng even without your threat. It completely ruins their friendship. So instead he opened the door for both him and Si Cheng taking off his shoes as he stepped inside.

"How'd your date go?" Jaemin asked standing in the kitchen. Yangyang felt the tension throughout his body heighten. Why was everyone home today? It's a Friday night and all of a sudden on the day he meets up with you everyone is home. He thanks you silently for not suggesting you two come to his place instead. "It was fine," he coughed up. Jaemin chuckled raising a brow. "Just fine? The way you talked about this girl I thought she was some sort of jewel. I guess it didn't go too well," he said bringing the joint between his fingers to his lips. He took a hit letting the smoke escape his lips. He let out a few coughs offering the joint to him.

He declined instead reaching into the fridge for two waters. He handed one to Jaemin who thanked him. Just as he turned around Jaehyun appeared. "Uh Oh," he said at the sight of Yangyang. He checked the time on the stove reading eight o'clock. He looked back at Yangyang with a sly frown. "Your back early. Did you fuck up?" he asked. Yangyang felt some of his nerves let go. He was used to this kind of behavior from the older boy. Jaemin cleared his throat taking a sip of water.

"Leave him alone Jae he's had a rough night," he said patting his back. He walked past Jaehyun who didn't follow instead taking a hit from Jaemin's blunt. Yangyang made his way to his room. Once he stepped inside and sat on his bed he heard the door close and open again. He looked up only seeing Jisung. He laid his head flat again not worried by Jisung's presence in the sloghtest.

Jisung walked over to him clearing his throat. He took hold of his desk chair and sat on it. He lightly kicked the side of Yangyang's leg that dangled off his bed. "So how'd it go?" he asked waiting for his reply. Yangyang lifted his head eyeing Jisung. "Why do you care?" he asked confused by the younger boy. Jisung shrugged waving the chair side to side. "I don't know. We barely talk anymore," he said with a slight pout, there was truth behind his words.

Yangyang eyed him but was too tired to question him. He sat up throwing his pillow to the side. He sighed shoulders falling. " I blew it. She said my tongue game was weak," he said embarrassment in his tone. Jisung bit back a laugh. Yangyang looked up noticing the boy's face. "Hey don't laugh! It really fucked me up. Next time I'm with a girl it will be all I can think about," he said annoyed.

"Then maybe you should slow down and study a bit," he said back.

"Says the virgin," yangyang bit back. He was too tired and annoyed to deal with any slander, especially from Jisung the biggest virgin in the entire house. The biggest because he was the only one they knew of. The group didn't trust Taeyong or Haechan. Jisung shrugged him off standing up. He knew he had gone to see you and since Yangyang came home pissed he knew you did your job. There was no need for him to continue it for you now. He'd see you tomorrow and you'd tell him all about it, and he'd love to hear it straight from you. He stood up leaving Yangyang to fall deeper into the hole he was digging for himself.

Just as he left he walked past Haechan who sat in his room typing quickly on his computer head set on covering his ears. He smirked to himself seeing the clueless boy who had no idea what was yet to come.

---

Once you stepped out of the shower you applied your skincare and creams. You walked to the lamp table next to your bed. You opened your draw sleep mask covering your forehead. You pulled out a pink fluffy pen crossing out YangYang’s name. You bit your lip just picturing how mad he is right now. Probably feeling used and embarrassed. You looked back down at your list feeling victorious.

“Just nine more to go,” you said looking at your paper. Just as you were about to put it away you scribbled something on it. Once you finished you smiled placing it back in your draw along with the pink fluffy pen. You pulled the string of the lamp seeing the room go dark. You then pulled the sleeping mask over your eyes laid flat on your pink silk sheet bed and went fast to sleep.

A part of you really wished YangYang was better with his mouth. Oh well, maybe Haechan would be better.

To Be Continued…

I hope you guys enjoyed part 2: of my 10-part series Easy A.

I think I’m the future I will continue to do my series there really fun.

Tags: @sexygrass @jakiki94 @90s-belladonna @soobiverse @ethelia @yumekowhore @scarfac3 @toroufriteh @notevenheretbh1 @renyoungrecs @yumekowhore

[renx01]

Playing Along - part 2

Prompt: “Just play along, please” inspired this multiple part fic, in which agent Galahad and Kay are on a mission together in the French Alps. Here, they have to pretend to be a couple, despite the two of them being rivals and Kay always wanting to beat him at everything. Pairing: Harry Hart x Kingsman!Reader Fandom: Kingsman Tags/Warnings: fake dating, slowburn, rivals Word count: 1820

Part 1 Masterlist

The dinner was quite awkward to say the least. While you and Harry usually could talk or banter about many different topics, the outburst earlier made it difficult to not immediately respond angrily. Before you got here, Harry had informed Merlin of the situation, who didn’t seem completely opposed to the idea of you spending some time with Angelo and his fiance. He said that he sees it as an opportunity to learn more about them, their interests, and their personal life. Even better, it will probably be an opportunity to gain their trust. Agent Galahad didn’t like that Merlin is very much open to executing your plan, but since the Scot is the one that coördinates certain aspects of the mission, he didn’t have much of a choice. Now he seems to want to avoid you altogether, still, you’re sitting in a fancy restaurant with the older man opposite of you.

You lean your head on your head as you wait for the main course to arrive. ‘Harry,’ he looks up, ‘perhaps we should talk this out?’ There’s no reply, which is unusual for him. ‘I’m being serious.’ Your voice stern, but he only scoffs. ‘Why am I to listen to an agent of inferior rank in the way I have to now?’ His voice is almost venomous. ‘I wouldn’t talk to agent Kay like this if I were you Galahad.’ Merlin warns, his voice sounding through your glasses. You were quite glad about the restaurant setting rather than having to have this conversation in the chalet, where there would be a high likelihood that you wouldn’t be wearing your glasses; meaning that Merlin, who is immensely respected by Galahad, wouldn’t have been able to jump in and defend you. ‘Inferior rank? Really Harry? Not very gentlemanly of you to have such reservations.’ You stand up, ‘Do excuse me for a moment.’ and you walk to the toilet. For agent Galahad to call your skill into question purely due to him thinking he has a higher rank was painful. It was something you hadn’t been particularly insecure about before, as he’d never given you a reason, but the comment stung. Besides, it wasn’t as if your ranks were different. You’ve recently been promoted by Arthur, making you one of the head agents, like Galahad. The problem here lies in that this mission was planned before that, and you suppose that Galahad hasn’t been informed of the promotion yet. What is more infuriating, however, is the fact that with his current behaviour, he’s endangering the mission as a whole. You were meant to be a couple, but right now you are acting very far from being one. After taking off your glasses, you splash some water from the sink into your face. When you look up, you see Guillia through the mirror in front of you. She smiles at you. ‘Good evening.’  You smile back. ‘Evening.’ After a short pause you speak again. ‘Aren’t you Angelo’s fiancée?’ She nods, confirming what you already knew. You hold out your hand. ‘Nice to meet you, I’m Cam.’ She smiles in recognition. ‘Oh yes, I think he’s told me about you. We’ll be showing you and your partner around the resort tomorrow, right?’ You nod, acknowledging and confirming her question. ‘I’m looking forward to it.’ She smiles but frowns shortly after. ‘Are you doing okay?’ The confusion on your face must’ve been obvious. ‘It’s your eyes. I know what it’s like not to be happy, so what’s going on between you and Harry?’ Obviously, you couldn’t tell her what was actually going on, but it’s of importance it’s believable enough. ‘We’re having a bit of a disagreement. I just…’ You look down. Silently, she puts her hand on your shoulder. Don’t worry about it too much, just try to talk it out.’ Her voice is soft and you nod. ‘Thanks.’ ‘I’ll see you later.’ She smiles at you and leaves. Moments after, you put your glasses back on. ‘Agent Kay, you alright?’ You confirm. ‘Of course Merlin. I just needed to take a moment, sorry about that.’ He sighs. ‘It’s very understandable. Galahad crossed a line there, so feel free to take your time.’ Your eyes shift toward your own form in the mirror. ‘I’m fine. It’s fine.’ Your breaths are slow and steady as you get back into the zone. Despite not actually believing your own words, your training kicks in and you push aside your feelings and emotions. ‘Galahad was wrong to say such a thing. I’ll talk to him later, Kay.’ As you’re about to leave the bathroom you reply. ‘Don’t, Merlin. It’s nothing, I really don’t care.’ But you did, and Merlin knew that, yet he didn’t pry any further in that moment.

‘Cameron.’ Harry greets you. ‘Harry.’ 

Despite the tension which is still palpable, you sit back down and smile at the agent. Before you’re able to say anything, another course arrives at your table. ‘The salmon… You didn’t take in anything else the waiter said, as your focus shifted to the table besides you. It’s a couple you don’t recognise, but they seem to be talking about some important business. Once you’re able to, you snap a picture of the couple and send it to Merlin so he can check it out. ‘Enjoy.’ Harry tells you before starting to eat. ‘You too.’ You say, turning back to him and quietly following his lead. It was quite enjoyable, despite seafood not usually tickling your fancy. The courses which followed varied greatly in style, yet in a way, they seemed to follow a theme and add to one another. Because of the type of restaurant this is, it has quite a few more experimental dishes or elements within the dishes. It isn’t really your cup of tea, but you can appreciate the work which goes into it.

As you ate it was mostly silent, only making a few comments about the food when it seemed necessary. Harry did, however, try to seem somewhat romantic by holding your hand or tucking your hair behind your ear as you conversed about everything yet nothing at the same time. You, of course, know better than that. All of it is with the goal of keeping up the charade of the two of you being a couple and in love. It was quite useful however, since Angelo and Guillia decided to come say hello shortly before they were meant to leave. 

‘Glad to see you took my recommendation seriously, Harry.’ Angelo smiles at your colleague. ‘I hope everything is as good as expected.’ ‘Everything is quite lovely. Thank you very much, Angelo.’ The conversation continues comfortably, exchanging opinions on the dishes you’d tried, but also ideas on how you’d be spending the following day. As the men converse, Guillia turns to you. ‘Hope it’s been resolved.’ You smile at her and nod, ‘Yes, we’ve cleared up our disagreement.’ lying through your teeth. ‘I’m glad.’ She sounds earnest. 

‘Why don’t you two join us for coffee?’ Your desert had been finished for a while and you craved an espresso; or something stronger. Angelo waves to the waiter to add two chairs to your table and they sit down, joining you. You decide to not drink anything stronger, as it’d be too risky, Harry on the other hand, does order a Scotch. The couple orders an espresso and schnapps for each of them. The previously tense atmosphere has calmed down now that you’ve been joined by others. Still, Harry is holding and caressing circles with his thumb on your left hand, as if he’s not even conscious of doing so. You shift your attention to Angelo, who’s sitting besides you. He proposes you meet around 10 near the gondolas so you’ll have plenty of time to explore the resort. You agree before looking at your “partner”. He follows suit and agrees. The smile he flashes doesn’t fully reach his eyes, though the only reason you notice is due to your training and the many hours you’ve spent with him. 

The night eventually comes to a close with Harry paying the bill and the four of you quietly leaving the restaurant, going your separate ways in the parking lot. Before you’re able to open your own car door, however, Galahad opens it for you, closing it once you’re sitting comfortably. He walks around the car and gets in on the driver’s side. The ride back was spent briefing the evening and Merlin informing you about the other guests you’d noticed during the dinner. They weren’t too important, but they might have useful information. This means that getting closer to them couldn’t hurt and might be profitable to the mission. Still, it’s something you’d have to consider carefully, especially when your colleague was already so apprehensive about getting closer to two of the targets despite it being a part of the mission. 

Once you arrive back at your chalet, you quietly get out of the car. Entirely ignoring agent Galahad trying to act gentlemanly and open the door for you, as you are still very much angry with him. Those few fake acts of affection didn’t take away the words he said to you earlier. ‘Cam, we need to talk.’ He says as he follows you inside. ‘Galahad, what is there to talk about? Your lack of professionalism?’ You turn to face him and he hesitates for a moment. ‘If we want this mission to be a success, I need you to get that stick out of your ass and at least pretend you enjoy spending time with me.’ The door to your room is on your right. You open it and start stepping inside. ‘And by the way, I got promoted by Arthur recently. We’re the same rank.’ He looks like he’s about to say something, but you slam the door in his face and lock it. Whatever he says after is muffled and you ignore it, taking off your glasses and quietly getting out of your suit. The muffles did continue for a couple of minutes, but eventually Harry gives up and leaves. Silently, you sit down on your bed, realisation hitting you. This week-long mission was going to be more difficult than you’d expected, especially when Harry’s acting the way he is. He’s more defensive than usual and does not seem like he wants to take any risks he deems unnecessary, despite the two of you being some of the most highly ranked and experienced agents within Kingsman. ‘What even is going on with him?’ There was nothing competitive about the way he has been acting. Perhaps, he was just done with you, done with working together as closely as you have been. After this mission, he’d probably request for the two of you not to work together in the foreseeable future. At least, that’s what you tell yourself before laying down to sleep.

[kylobith]

The Trick (Gale of Waterdeep x Tav)

Word count: 698

Ao3 link

In all his life, Gale never imagined undertaking such a difficult task. But he must.

‘Alright, that should do the trick.’

Drawing in a sharp breath, Gale furrows his brow and enters a state of deep concentration. Deep breaths help him soothe the loud thrumming of his heart as he attempts to keep calm. Of all his adventures, this seems to him the most perilous. Gnolls, drow, goblins and even gods tried to skin him alive, yet he never felt such discouragement. Still, he raises his hands before him, letting them hover there momentarily before allowing them to execute the task ahead.

His fingers busy themselves with nearly surgical precision, curving, hooking, and parting. They reach out, turn, flick and descend in clear motions. The crease on his forehead deepens while his brain is at work. Tav explained each step, and now he needs to remember them. Was it upward or downward? Could he still use the old tool, or would it mess everything up? How thorough did he have to be? Was the final ingredient added before or after the whole ordeal?

He should know. Tav was so comprehensible in her explanations. He already saw her at play, and the temptation to take his quill and paper out to write down the process was exhilarating, but she refused him. All she needed was his undivided attention, and much to her relief, he gave her just that.

But she is much more knowledgeable and skilled than he is. Not that this is an excuse at all, mind you. Yet he knows how important it is for him to learn in turn. Tav does not have to do everything herself all the time, and he would not have it anyway. They are in this together, after all. Not only is it a precious duty to take on, but it is something he knows will nurture their cherished bond. He is not merely helping, as many call it; he is doing what he was born to do. Nature's call, in a sense.

Once the worst is behind him, Gale seizes a new tool and wraps it around the squirming limbs he wishes would still for a second. Then, he steps backwards and reverts to something familiar, a spell he is used to casting.

‘Veni et iuva me!’

As he twirls his hands before him, a blinding light illuminates the room, brief yet intense. Then, amid the swirling shapes, a hand materialises, blue and see-through, its fingers fidgeting in anticipation. Awaiting Gale’s orders, it spins around to face him, nearly enquiring about his wishes. Concentrating on what is left of the process, he pictures it in his head, careful not to sever the connection between him and the hand by letting distractions cloud his instructions.

The hand surges forward and collects the dangerous weapon from the table, carrying it across the room. But as it endeavours to get rid of it, Tav peeks into the room and instantly notices it. She grumbles and waves towards the table before Gale.

‘Oh, come on, Gale, she's your daughter!’

Startled by the interruption, the wizard shrieks and the bond with the hand is ruptured. The hand vanishes into smoke, leaving the deadly weapon to crash onto the wooden floor, staining it. Gale whimpers in defeat, burying his face into his hands at the thought of having to clean it up afterwards. 

‘But it smells so bad, Tav!’ he cries out, glancing towards his partner while waving at the crushed nappy.

‘Don't you shame your little girl for what's natural!’

Tav steps inside and picks up the crying newborn from the changing table, cradling the child and covering its little head with kisses before taking a whiff of it. She will never tire of the aroma of her daughter's head, however insane this might sound to others.

Then, she faces Gale again with an eyebrow raised.

‘By the way, need I remind you how bad yours smelled after a night out? So get yourself together and change her nappies normally, mh?’

With this said, the new mother exits the room, cooing at the baby. Gale curses at himself under his breath as his gaze returns to the splattered goo on the floor.

‘Sometimes I really hate it when she's right.’

[deepobssesionsstuff]

Heartfire 3

The sound of Enji's footsteps disappeared into the distance.

That usually meant that he had locked himself in his study. 

you were still lying on the ground, breathing hard as you pressed your ribs, checking to see if any were broken. you had already stopped crying, but the feeling of terror and anguish had not disappeared. 

"How many days...how many days until he decides to let me go" you thought as you stood up. 

You looked at yourself in the reflection of the water in the sink. "Murderer" you whispered as you unplugged the sink, letting the water run down the drain.

 You approached Enji's study. It was the only room in the house that you were never allowed to go near under any circumstances. One of the many mysteries that Enji had in his care. You gave the door 3 taps. You knew perfectly well that he expected you to go after him. 

"Enji? I came to apologize... please listen to me" You spoke in a submissive and dry tone. There was no response from Enji. You sighed. Clearly, Enji expected a much more humiliating apology from you. 

You knelt in front of the door even though maybe he couldn't see you, though, you weren't entirely sure if Enji really wasn't able to see you. 

"Enji, excuse my grave offense. You clearly saw through my dark and selfish intentions. Maybe I haven't learned my lesson yet. That's why I need you in my life, Enji. You are the light that will help a soul as dark as mine. to pay for all his crimes" You gritted your teeth at the end of that pathetic display of your boot-licking skills.

 The door slowly opened, but you decided to keep your head on the ground, you wanted to make sure that your "apology" had the impact that, Enji wanted. 

"So you admit it..." The former hero said with a dismissive tone. "I knew, but I told you Y/n, you can't fool me. I've been dealing with criminals for over 20 years, I know how you think." 

You nodded your head silently, while keeping your head facing the ground. Enji grabbed your hair. forcing you to look into his eyes. His intense blue eyes devoured your fear. They were the eyes of a sick and broken man. His lips enclosed yours in an intense and desperate kiss. You tried to break free, But his strong arms clung to you like the toughest of all cages. 

"You'll have to pay for what you did...for everything you've done. You haven't learned anything Y/n. After all the effort I put into disciplining you. I guess I'll have to punish you for all the damage you've caused.” Enji's voice was filled with joy and pleasure. 

He enjoyed this... you, begging him on your knees, for something he had made up in his twisted mind. 

Tears began to fill your eyes. 

You hated this part. But it was the bare minimum, right? This couldn't go on forever, right? With time, Enji would get bored of torturing you... right? He would let you go after... after what?

A cold sweat began to run down your forehead. Finally Enji let you go and started taking off your shirt. His gaze was filled with lust and sadism. So you got it. He will never leave you. 

Before, you thought that he would finally get bored with you and Just get rid of you... maybe send you to prison. But now, looking into those eyes filled with anger and pleasure. You got it... The crime you committed is priceless. 

After all, you were guilty of the death of his children... 

¿Did you really expect to pay your sentence with a couple of nice phrases and the submissive attitude of a wife? No... This was just the beginning. 

You smiled with teary eyes. You were going crazy. The guilt and your hatred for that man were two totally opposite forces destroying your mind. Enji smiled back at you with a macabre smile. He was going to have fun with you.

Endeavor... one of your lifelong enemies grabbed you by the neck. and put you up against the wall. You had your chest completely naked. You closed your eyes at the feel of his crotch on your thighs . "I want you so much that I want to sew you to my arms Y/N. I will never let you go... never" 

Hearing those words... You were unable to hold back your tears. 

"I love you too, Enji..." You said between tears and sobs. “I love you”

[virologikal]

Reply to @nshtn

Has your Wesker ever heard of a barbecue? Has he, dare say, ever participated in one in any degree?

Are there any hard candies he has enjoyed?

What's an important object he has once forgotten (as an adult)? What were the consequences of that?

T-Veronica and similar T-viruses that descend from the leech line adapt to their host over time. Is your Wesker's Progenitor Virus inverse to this, destabilizing as years pass? (I think I recall that Spencer's Progenitor strain wasn't leech based because he hadn't discovered the benefits yet, but I don't remember).

⸻ ⸨ again I take the liberty to split my replies between "Very silly, medium silly and less silly/serious" because some of these actually turned from crack to honest while I was answering them ⸩

He absolutely knows what a barbecue is, yes - my portrayal has the "Wesker is an excellent cook" headcanon in common with a couple of other writers. While he knows how to go about a barbecue in terms of seasoning, working a smoker and so on, he in fact never participated in a barbecue with others (which I think is what you were asking for?). Before he joined S.T.A.R.S., anyway. I like to think that there was a period of time after all members of the squad were accounted for, when they would spend actual quality time together and try to rope Wesker into it. Often he would excuse himself, of course, due to the other obligations he had. But I like to think every once in a while he would indulge the teams. At first, because he wanted to learn more about them, and actually learn more about socializing himself. Later, I like to think he privately came to enjoy being around the others, getting an, albeit brief, glimpse of a normal life. It likely happened the same time Chris managed to distract him for a little while from his duties.

Not particularly. He is more of a spicy (no pun intended........), savoury or even sour kind of guy. I portray him as extremely disciplined with his body and workout routine, and therefore also very mindful of what he feeds himself in terms of nutrition. It's something that stuck from his time in the military and only grew more important over the years (for one because he knew how physically superior many B.O.W. can be, but also due to his growing god complex over the years). I think if I had to pin a hard candy on him, it would be something sour-lemony, or maybe licorice.

During a stressful week with multiple emergencies the S.T.A.R.S. teams were assigned to, Wesker once forgot to check for the placement of the diamond key (I mentioned in another headcanon post how I think Irons started his goose chase for keys and the need to solve puzzles in the R.C.P.D. out of pure spite for Wesker and S.T.A.R.S.), and Wesker had left his Samurai Edge at the shooting range that day because he had planned to go train later. Enrico had to dispatch both teams that day and take care of team Alpha as well. It was that day Wesker learned of Jill's lockpicking skills, because she offered to help him get his gun back. Wesker allowed Chris, Jill and Vickers to apply shoe glaze to the bottom of Irons' office door handle as revenge.

I went and checked the documents of the game but they're not very precise (x, x) but I think context-wise you're right assuming the leeches infected with the progenitor virus rather accommodate their hosts and adapt to them instead of fight them like the progenitor t-virus does. I'd have to replay RE0 though to be completely sure. For the sake of it, let's assume this is how these viruses work, though! The way the progenitor virus infection in Wesker works in my portrayal is somewhat a mixture of how these two variants described above act. Mainly, yes, it is inverse. The virus will fight its host eventually, damaging Wesker's brain in the process. It's what leads to his emotional outburst while, at the same time, "feeding" off of strong emotions and becoming even stronger due to them. At the same time there definitely was a phase in which the virus adapted to Wesker, especially in the beginning, enhancing his skills and strength while reviving him from an otherwise fatal wound. His body was able to work with the infection for a while, until... well, it couldn't. It's a bit like a predator noticing weakness; as soon as that happened, the virus started doing what it does with all other hosts - trying to take over.

[cto10121]

Twilight Clown Takes—Part 6

In which Instagram vies with YouTube on which platform has the most clownery. Featuring even more Bella hate dumb, the ~~~Mormon influences in Twilight, and a lot of hate for Jacob/Renesmee, including a fundamental misunderstanding of imprinting. We feast tonight, on nom nom

Bella Hate Dumb

Tell me you don’t know Twilight is a romance without telling me you don’t know Twilight is a romance.

Of course Bella’s life is going to revolve around her romance with Edward because Twilight is a romance! Her ambitions (which aren’t really many—just the vaguest idea of being a teacher or a librarian) aren’t important—hell, you could say the same thing about Edward! His entire existence constantly revolves around Bella and he constantly ditches his own family for her—even going off to commit suicide because of her.

And yet Edward, for all of his many whinging antis, is never accused of being a weak character. Creep or abusive, yes, but not weak. Wonder why? (The answer is misogyny).

In every one of the examples Clown OP mentioned, the humans either have 1) supernatural or learned martial skills or 2) the monsters they are fighting against have weaknesses that humans can easily exploit.

In the Twilight universe, vampires are literally the humans’ predators with no exploitable weaknesses. Vampires are not harmed by garlic, stakes, crucifixes, or the sun, nor do they have need to stick to hunting at night. No human can outrun or hold their own against a vampire. A young and healthy Carlisle couldn’t even handle a weakened vampire. The only creatures that can hold their own against vampires are werewolves, either the Children of the Night or the Quileute shapeshifters.

Bella is neither of them, and until very recently only learned vampires are real. Very few humans know for sure of their existance. So no, you can’t use the “it’s not an excuse!!1!!1” excuse to justify your misogyny, Clown OP. You can bitch about how the vampires are overpowered all you like (I’ll even agree!), but Bella is not weak for not being able to fight against them. She literally cannot.

Bella literally relates her life to classic literature in every book (Pride and Prejudice, Romeo and Juliet, Wuthering Heights, and Merchant of Venice), bitched about the thin selection of books at the Forks library, and nearly got raped looking for a good bookstore in Port Angeles (#relatable). She is a book girl, all right, and last time I checked, that is a hobby.

Also, Meyer hates Leah so much that she made her leave Sam behind and be free to become Jacob’s second-in-command and made Jacob learn to trust and respect her.

Because Bella’s insecurity is totally not a thing she overcomes and conquers by the end of the series and it’s not framed critically by the narrative. Because Twilight doesn’t totally show Bella’s parentification and how her parents just made her their parent. All these things just do not exist because to Clown OP only the first book and the dumb film series exist.

I literally read Life and Death not too long ago and there was essentially NO difference between Beau and Bella save in very minor details and (actually realistic) 2000s socialization. Beau’s “protectiveness” is largely emotional and ineffectual—it never actually serves a role in the story and Edythe dismisses it out of hand. He is not an active protagonist at all, or at least about as active as Bella is; he is still victimized in the latter half of the book and he even has to undergo a full vampire transformation.

Mormonism!!1!!1

Oh, God, where do I start?

“Humans who became divine—” And who lust for human blood to sustain them. There is already a creature who must drink blood to survive, so use it. Hell, Meyer didn’t even make up the whole “vampires are so beautiful/seductive/seemingly angelic” trope; that is your most basic vampire lore since Dracula.

“Bella’s aversion to drinking, smoking, coffee/tea—” Because a 17-year-old in the 2000s would totally smoke. Bella doesn’t go to parties, as she is de facto the parent of her family, so no, she wouldn’t drink and as the daughter of a police chief she would not have been raised to drink. As for coffee and tea, these are simply not mentioned—a far cry from being an aversion. Hell, no drink other than water and maybe milk is mentioned in the series. Does Bella even mention liquids???? She only seems to describe meals. As it is, Bella does ingest caffeine—she drinks Coke. Also, kind reminder that Bella has no religion.

“Rosalie/Leah feel incomplete not having babies—” Rosalie is a ‘30s girl who wanted to be a trad wife, which includes having children. Leah is worried that not having her period would make her unable to have children—not that she necessarily desires them, but it is weird and disconcerting not to have that option anymore. Moreover, Leah was getting ready to marry Sam, so she may have expected a life together with children. But it makes sense for their characters to be alike in this way, since they are mirror characters.

Meanwhile trad wife Esme is perfectly fine with adopting and caring for others and Alice doesn’t even mention that side of humanity at all. The Denali coven includes a trio of single sisters who loved having sex with human men so much that they decided to go vegetarian—they obviously are not obsessed with babies.

Jacob/Renesmee Hate Dumb

Apart from definitively resolving the love triangle, (thank God) Jacob’s imprinting on Renesmee stopped the Quileutes from attacking the Cullens after Bella gets bitten and changed—they have a law that prohibits harming a fellow werewolf’s imprintee. Moreover, it provides a much more firm alliance between the Cullens and Quileutes, thus resolving their rivalry/hate. But Clown OP doesn’t care about actual plot and theme resolutions, just the “ick” factor of the imprinting.

Meyer technically could have made the Cullens be forced to move after Bella’s becoming a vampire and have Renesmee and Jacob meet later. But I have a feeling that she didn’t expect to write more Twilight so she set up Jacob/Renesmee right away to dispel the love triangle once and for all. Given that Meyer got the idea of imprinting from A Midsummer Night’s Dream, that may have been her rationale.

That said, Jacob imprinting on Renesmee was a key plot point in Forever Dawn, the original sequel to Twilight, which did not have the love triangle—Jacob was just a platonic friend to Bella. Again, for plot and thematic resolutions, and perhaps for future set-ups.

Friendly reminder that movie canon is not canon and will never be because, ha, fuck the movies.

But! This does give me a chance to talk about imprinting in the books vs. the movies. Not only does Jacob never say anything of this sort to Edward in the books, but he doesn’t even have a reaction when he learns Renesmee will be fully grown in seven years. Edward confirms he doesn’t care and his feelings towards Renesmee are strictly platonic.

I read the official Twilight guide’s entry on imprinting—written very neutrally and very careful not to say anything about romance—and it basically confirms this:

If the human is young, the werewolf becomes the perfect platonic playmate and protector. As the human ages and changes, the werewolf instinctively switches roles to fulfill the human’s needs.

This implies that if the human doesn’t want to make the wolf a romantic partner, then the romance will simply not happen.

So what this shows me is that imprinting is not inherently a romantic phenomenon. The fact that Sam/Emily, Jared/Kim found each other in early adulthood and developed a romantic bond was because of the needs of Emily and Kim than Sam and Jared’s. Soulmates, after all, can be platonic.

So if Jacob/Renesmee ever become a thing, it would be because Renesmee herself would want it. Jacob would be incapable even to wish for anything more. In that sense, imprinting is the exact opposite of grooming: It is literally giving all the power to the imprintee.

The movies, quite frankly, fuck all this up. From portraying Jacob’s imprinting as a vision of Renesmee growing up (🤮 and not in the books) to his “joke” to Edward (stupid and 🤮 and not in the books) to Alice suddenly being able to have a vision Jacob and Renesmee together on the beach (in the books she cannot see werewolves or hybrids; this canon was broken by the movies for the fight scene with Meyer’s permission). So no, that is not how imprinting works.

[lawrence-songs]

Inhale-

Do you play Undertale, Cuphead, or Hollow Knight? If so, I'd love to talk to you about those games and quiz you on all the best parts and tell you how silly goofy they make me feel-

What's your favorite instrument to play? To hear? What gives you the best overall vibes? Can you sing? What part? What's your favorite instrument to just feel? Tactile-wise, that is-

Do you have an opinion on the meaning of life? Why does it exist? What are we doing here? Is there any real answer, or are we doomed to wander the cosmos in search of something that doesn't exist?

Can you draw? Do you like to draw? Paint? Write? Do you do sports? Do you prefer land, air, or sea? Do you have stuffed animals/plushies? Who's your favorite?

Do the demons you know act like cats? All the demons I know act like cats.

What's your favorite flavor of post-it note? Mine's purple.

..

Excuse me.

Ahem.

I've fully played through the pacifist and neutral routes of undertale, currently working my way through genocide. (I've gotten stuck on Undyne.)

Cuphead, I've tried, but I've not yet been able to make it past the first level. I'm still quite enthusiastic about it though.

And I've never touched hollow night, but I've heard good things.

Banjo, violin, oddly enough I prefer listening to things a cappella. There's something beautifully haunting about it.

I can sing, I do sing, my voice ranges about 2.5 octaves, and I have wonderful projection. Bass is my favorite to feel, and I've gotten hooked on modern music due to the thrum that can shake the earth when you're at a concert.

Life exists because energy cannot be destroyed nor created and therefore we are all doomed to cycle into something new no matter what form we take on.

What are we doing here? Learning. But learning what is up to you.

There are many real answers but the idea that we could attempt to qualify what's going on around us is somewhat blasphemous. The experience of "i was stuck in a meat sack piloted by a wad of soggy bacon so twacked it started to perceive itself", "i was placed here by something far larger than I am and I will not ever be able to do anything but my best", and "I am in control of the way my life flows" are all contradicting but not at all mutually exclusive ideas. No one can comprehend all of life. All of us can comprehend some of it. We are all doing our best to express it. It exists because we have brought it into creation. Our environment is a part of us just as we are a part of it and therefore what we bring to it is what it is.

I can draw. I like to draw. I drew this the other day.

I also drew this.

And this.

And this.

I don't paint. Unless it's cosplay, in which case I definitely do paint.

Typically, I learn any skills I need to complete a project and only to the amount that I need to complete said project. However, my projects vary wildly. So I've come across as a very mediocre person at everything. /pos

I have few skills that I can do superbly but I have many that I can at least do.

I do not do sports, unless you consider dancing a sport. Sea, definitely.

.. I do have a small collection of stuffed animals. (it's not small)

While I honestly love all of them, I adore my ink demon plushies (I have three). My favorite is the one I've owned the longest.

Actually, the demons I know act like dogs. Angels tend to act more like cats. With angels, it's "you ask one wrong question and they simply do not respond to you", whereas with demons it tends to be "I love you but stop chewing on the couch". At least in my experience.

Yellow. With the red and blue lined ink.