#at at some point she realises that she can write music again. like without it feeling like burning alive like she enjoys it

[chisatowo]

Thinks abt unit swap Kanade abt her complicated relationship with music..... The way it defined her life for so long, the way it ruined her, the fuzzy memory of joy hidden behind a bog of endless nights imprisoning herself to an art she hated, an art that she wanted nothing more than to break away from, and yet as soon as she did the pain burned, and it wasn't a victory but a failure to her, a duty unfulfilled, more proof she was rotten to the core, unsalvageable. And yet she came back to it. Well, she thought she did, she feared she would, but really she managed to start to build something new, she finally began to remember how to make music for the sake of making music again. Music has been with her for her whole life, for better or worse

[loveandmurders]

The Sun of Ambrose V (lost Sinclair!daughter reader AU)

Hi everyone, this is the final part of my Sinclair!daughter AU in which the reader is Bo's daughter and she has been taken away and adopted by a new family.

You can find part I here.

Hope you'll enjoy! <3

Warnings: no proof reading, killer!reader, mentions of guilt, violence, murders, blood, some sort of dark angst/comfort

You quite enjoyed your summer break in Ambrose. You loved to sculpt with Vincent, you loved to watch your dad work on a car and to have him show you things, you loved to wander around with Lester. You loved to play with Jonesy as well. Everything felt good. You never slept so well in years, because you were finally feeling safe enough to fully relax.

You hadn’t asked about the tourists anymore because you didn’t have enough strength for more drama for the moment. And whenever people were coming around, the brothers made sure you were busy somewhere else in the town or with Lester. You pretended you didn’t notice anything. You just wanted to be happy. 

And for the moment, your own desire to kill has quieted down. You were still feeling sick from the murder of your mother.

The brothers didn’t notice anything amiss; apart from the fact they still hadn’t heard the sound of your voice, you were once again their ray of sunshine. You were making them so full of joy. The twins were talking, late in the night, about the legacy once again. They hadn’t thought they could resume their plans on this matter. They were so relieved.

However they were a little bit concerned about your adoptive father. They were certain that even if the man wasn’t doing too well for the moment, at some point he would want to get “his daughter” back. The twins had no idea how to cut him out of your life without killing him. Bo would love to murder him - out of jealousy - but he knew that you would know it one day, and he didn’t want to upset you that way. Both your mothers already died after all…

You were having a snack in Bo’s garage while he was taking care of a new car. You were sucking on the chocolate that dripped on your fingers, as you were listening to the music your father put on. You were both enjoying each other's presence even if you weren’t interacting directly. Bo was always a lot more at ease when you were in the same room than him or at least in his line of vision. He was still traumatised; he lost you once, and he promised himself it would never happen again.

You slightly jumped when you felt your phone buzzing next to you. You grabbed it and frowned when you saw it was your adoptive father. Bo noticed the look on your face.

“What’s up, baby?” he asked you as he came closer to you. You put your phone on your lap so you could sign

“He is wondering where I am.” you replied, knowing Bo would understand who was the “he”. You father rolled his eyes and groaned

“Oh so he remembered he's supposed to look after ya?” he ironized and your crossed your arms on your chest “Don’t pout” he hummed and kissed the top of your head

“I’ll have to tell him I’m here. I can’t lie to him about that. Just be nice to him, okay? Things are difficult and… And he won’t be happy about the situation because…” you trailed off

“Because what?”

“Well before mom got sick, she discovered I was chatting with you and Vince and Les, and she was worried about me. She wanted to call the cops on you” you explained. Bo didn’t show any emotion but you read in his eyes that he was quite concerned about such news

“Luckily she got sick then” he commented out loud before realising it “Sorry, love, I didn’t mean it like that” he quickly added as you looked away. Luck had really nothing to do with it, you thought.

“Anyway, I will tell him I’m here. And he’ll probably come get me. I’m just gonna make sure he doesn’t call the police or anyone” you promised as you got up and left the garage

You needed to be alone to write to your adoptive father: “Hey dad, are you feeling better? I didn’t really have anywhere to go so I went back to Ambrose. Everyone is very nice to me and Bo is inviting you over (so please don’t call the police, they really didn’t do anything wrong!). Will you bring me back home?”

The answer was almost instantaneous: “Yes, I will. I won’t call the police because I shouldn’t have asked you to go away in the first place. Love you, I’m sorry for everything”

You were relieved, knowing he wouldn’t be lying to you, not after what happened, not when he had failed his mission of taking care of you.

You came back home and settled at the kitchen table, thinking about what to do next. You didn’t want to leave Ambrose but you wouldn’t be allowed to stay here. You tried to busy yourself on some silly games on your phone but soon enough you grew bored. You were feeling quite upset as well. For the first time in weeks, you wanted to kill someone. You needed to express yourself in another way than sculpting or drawing. You needed to take out your frustration on someone, but there was no one to kill here.

Vincent opened the basement door, in need of some water when he saw you. He quickly saw you weren’t your usual happy self. He put an hand on your shoulder for you to look up at him before signing:

“What’s wrong?”

“My adoptive father will come get me. I think he should be here tonight” you replied

“Do you want to go?” Vincent tilted his head to the head, you quickly shook your head

“No, but I can’t really do anything about it”

You could tell that Vincent wanted to say something but didn’t dare and he simply sadly nodded his head at you.

“How about we make something together? Would it cheer you up?” he offered, which made you smile

“I’d love to”

As you focused on the art you were making with Vincent, you forgot about your adoptive father and you forgot about the time. Your need to kill quietened down, but was still there, waiting for you to be on your own to eat you up alive once again.

You were about to finish a sculpture of Jonesy you intended to offer to Lester, when you heard two vehicles coming into Ambrose. You looked at the window, but didn’t recognise your adoptive father’s car. There were lost “tourists” who were following behind Lester’s truck. Vincent tensed and looked at the clock before asking you:

“When do you think your adoptive father will come here?”

“I’m not sure, soon I guess” you shrugged but you saw the panic rising into Vincent’s eye

“Alright. I let you finish the sculpture without me. We have work to do. Stay here, please.” Vincent replied

“What work?” you frowned

“Promise me you will stay here” Vincent asked, firmly signing each work. You understood he was pretty serious about it

“Of course, I promise you, uncle” you finally replied as you sat back down and watched Vincent leave the room and go back into the basement.

You were about to go back to your sculpture when you heard people violently arguing. The “tourists” didn’t seem to be too happy with Bo. Lester was quick to intervene as well. You watched the scene of a man pushing Lester to the ground, and Bo hitting the said man. Your eyes widened at such a display of violence. You nibbled on your bottom lip. Were your family killers, or was it just bad people disrupting the peace of Ambrose?

You saw that things were getting pretty rough between the three tourists and your father and uncle. You wondered where Vincent was, and almost got into the basement to look for him… Until you saw your adoptive father’s car coming into view. He really couldn’t have arrived at the worst moment. He stopped in front of the garage and tried to put himself between Bo and the man, and to appease the situation. Bo asked him to go away, you guessed, according to his gestures. And your adoptive father refused.

You were too far away to see everything, and even more when they seemed to come more into Bo’s garage. You just knew that at some point someone screamed. Two tourists ran away, Lester ran after them with what seemed like a knife, and Bo was covered in blood. You had to stop yourself from leaving the house. You wanted to help, and you wanted to be the one covered in blood. However, you never broke a promise you made to your family before, so you had to be better, you had to stay inside. You didn’t know where your adoptive father was anymore and you grew worried. How could things go so badly after such happy weeks in Ambrose?

Bo grabbed a rifle and was about to go after the tourists when he received a massive hit on the head from behind and fell on the ground. You saw your adoptive father with some mechanic tool in his hands.

You couldn’t stop yourself this time. You took the gun Bo was hiding under his armchair and ran to the garage. You had to stop them, you had to do something about it. You couldn’t scream or you would have. Your legs brought you in front of the two men with such speed, as the adrenaline was pumping into your veins. Before you knew it, you aimed at them.

Your adoptive father who was ready to hit Bo stopped his movement as he noticed you and he brought his hands in front of him. Bo was still on the ground, pretty disoriented by the hit he received on the head. He looked up and saw you. You had never looked so much like a Sinclair before. He knew you were his daughter then; he wouldn’t even be disappointed if you decided to kill him.

You were perfect.

“What are you doing? Shoot him, shoot him! He killed the guy, and he wants to kill us all. Your mother was right, they are murderers!” you adoptive father yelled as you eyes moved between him and Bo

“I won’t hurt ya, baby” Bo whispered to you “Everythin’s alright” he continued, trying to sooth you. And one thing was certain, you wouldn’t stand to never hear him talking to you like that anymore.

You looked back at your adoptive father, tears in your eyes. You wanted to tell him how sorry you were about what you were going to do, about what you did to his wife, but with the gun in your hands, you couldn’t.

You shooted and closed your eyes. His body loudly fell to the ground and you shivered. You looked down at Bo and helped him to get up.

He quickly hugged you before gently rocking you, so you could calm down. You didn’t cry in his embrace, you felt at peace. You felt like everything was as it always should have been.

“Ya alright?” Bo whispered to you as he cupped your face into his bloody hands. You nodded and sniffed.

Screams resonated from the House of Wax and you moved from Bo. You were ready to help, you were ready to kill some more but Bo grabbed your wrist. He softly took the gun from you and kissed the palm of your hand.

“Don’t worry, baby. Les and Vince are taking care of the two others. Ya can rest now. Ya did amazin’. Ya saved me, ya saved the family” he hummed, pride shining into his eyes. “Told ya everythin’ was gonna be alright,” he added as he brought you back against him once again.

You couldn’t fully relax, not knowing if your uncles were doing alright. You kept your face towards the House of Wax, waiting for them. Soon enough, you saw them pulling two bodies out of the museum and you felt the adrenaline leaving you.

“I need to sit down” you signed to your dad who quickly nodded. He opened Lester’s truck and sat you down at the passenger seat, as it was the most comfy place he could offer for the moment. He didn’t want you to see the body of your adoptive father either.

“Stay here, I’ll be back soon” he murmured. He needed to let his brothers know about what happened. 

Soon enough, they were all around you. You quickly scanned them, to make sure they were unharmed. They didn’t really know what to tell you. They were happy, of course, but they weren’t too sure how you were feeling. You killed the man who raised you for years, after all.

Truth to be told, you used to feel guilty because of the death of his wife that was driving him crazy, but now they were back together. You felt free. You felt ready to kill again, to kill for the family business.

“Bo told us ya did the right thin’” Lester told you and you gave him a soft smile “Feelin’ all good?” he asked and you nodded.

“You don’t have to feel bad for having… killed him, you know. You protected your real father, you protected us. You did what you had to do” Vincent signed to you, even if Bo and Lester weren’t too sure that reminding you you killed him was a good idea. To their surprise, you relaxed into the seat and nodded again.

“I am a Sinclair” you said in a rough voice you hadn’t used in years.

--

Taglist : @murder-hobo - @lacychick ; @magical-sass ; @limehaspassed ; @loveinglymessedup ; @bloodmoon-bites ; @iwantsleepplz ; @kawaistrawberry21 ; @12gaugefalls ; @kriston1210 ; @slushi-chan

[mllersjoel]

good old fashioned lover boy

Pairing: Regency!Wyll Ravengard x gn!reader

Summary: It's dreadfully boring at this ball, especially when Lord Gortash won't stop talking to you. Lord Ravengard steps in, and just maybe, this night can be saved.

Word Count: 1.1k

A/N: why does no one write for my bb boy. i love him. have some regency au (writing comms r open btw!)

It’s your second year as an eligible member of society, and you are bored out of your mind. Your guardian has dragged you to yet another ball, with dancing and schmoozing that you would rather die than be doing. Thankfully, you’ve managed to avoid just about everyone who wants to sign your dance card with a glare or pretending to choke so hard tears well up in your eyes. You came here because your best friend, Astarion, promised to accompany you this time and fill up your dance card with his name only, but that plan swiftly fell out the window as he laid eyes on a pretty half-elf.

You could see him check out of the conversation, eyes flitting to them then back at yours. 

“Just go, Astarion,” you sigh, shoving him playfully.

His eyes blink back to yours, trying and failing to pretend like he wasn’t ogling another person. “I have no idea what you’re on about, darling.”

“I can handle myself and it’s pathetic watching you try to concentrate on me. Go.”

Astarion smiles broadly, kissing your cheeks. “Have I ever told you you’re the light of my life?”

You snort. “Just when you want something.”

He shrugs, taking your hand and pressing a gentle kiss to the back of it. “If you need me, just shout.”

He leaves, and you’re barely able to let out a breath before another man (greasy, looking like he needs two decades of sleep) takes his place. Without asking, he signs his name on your dance card. “Enver Gortash, Lord of this estate. Care to dance with me?”

You are pulled to the dance floor before you can even answer and you desperately try to come up with an excuse. “I—I can’t dance right now,” you protest, attempting to extricate yourself from his grasp without seeming rude, “I’m waiting for someone.” He ignores you, laughing. 

“Don’t play coy,” he says, assuming a waltz position. The music begins, and you have no choice but to dance with him. You catch Astarion’s eye and watch him square his shoulders, ready to pull you out of there as you minutely shake your head at him. 

‘Don’t make a scene,’ you mouth.

The entire time you dance with Lord Gortash, he drones on and on about his estate, how he fought for his wealth (although it was an open secret that he participated in less than savory business practices), and how immodestly he thinks women are dressed now. The song feels like its going on forever, then, blissfully, the music stops. There is a slight bustle as everyone switches partners, looking at who’s next on your dance card. Lord Gortash takes your hand, and with a predatory grin realises you have no one else on your dance card. As he takes your pencil, eager to write his name again, a hand grips his wrist and stops him.

You look up and see a beautiful man, dark skinned, hair braided closely to his head and a slight stubble covering his cheeks. He has a deep brown, almost black eye, while the other seemed pale and translucent. His smile is charming and bright, without a hint of sleaziness the other man seemed to carry in bucket loads. “I’m terribly sorry to cut in,” he says, the dulcet tones of his voice sending a slight shiver down your spine, “but I believe it’s my turn to have the pleasure of their company.”

Lord Gortash scoffs, brandishing your dance card towards the handsome man. “Your name isn’t on there. Mine is. Get lost, Ravengard.”

The man—Ravengard—nods, taking a step back. He seems as if he’s about to leave, and your heart sinks at the prospect of another dance with this man when he leans back in, pointing near the back. “Oh, before I go, I fear I spy Lady Karlach on her way. She mentioned something about—what was it now?—getting even?”

You see Gortash’s face turn white as he whips his head around, trying to spot someone. Without sparing you a second glance, he practically runs out of the ballroom, tripping on his own feet as he’s nearly sent sprawling. You hide your laugh behind your hand, catching the eye of Ravengard. “Thank you,” you say, adjusting your clothes, “he just wouldn’t stop talking.”

“You seemed like you were in need of saving,” he says, taking your hand and planting a feather-light kiss on the back of it. “Lord Wyll Ravengard, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

You give your name back which he tests immediately, smiling at the way it sounds. He gestures to your dance card, his hand still holding yours. “May I?”

You nod, delighted that this night seemed to be turning around. He writes his name in neat, precise cursive, finishing just as the band begins to play the notes of the next song. His hand is warm as it envelops yours, large, course fingers wrapping around your glove, leading you to the middle of the dance floor.

A slow dance begins to play, and suddenly you are swept up in his movements. He dances easily, leading you as if it was second nature. 

“I don’t think I’ve seen you before,” you say, matching his movements easily.

He smiles bashfully, looking down for a second. “Ah, I’ve been away.”

“And how do you like being back?”

He twirls you, catching you easily when you return back into his arms. “I like it a lot better now.”

As you waltz with him, you catch Astarion’s eye once more. He mouths, ‘Good?’

You nod and smile, glad when he gives you a thumbs up of approval. ‘He’s sexy,’ Astarion tells you, and you accidentally snort, looking away when Lord Ravengard raises an amused brow at you. “Too clichéd?”

“No, not at all!” You scramble, trying to school your face into a neutral expression. Every time you looked at his face, however, you started giggling again. Lord Ravengard laughed along with you, still not missing a step and barely even wincing when you inevitably stepped on his toes. “My friend is being stupid, that’s all.”

“Well,” Lord Ravengard starts, stepping closer than what was deemed proper, “if it’s not my horribly cheesy sayings, may I say that you look more stunning than the goddess Aphrodite herself?”

You gasp in jest, smiling. “Careful, my lord, your hubris may see you cursed.”

The song ends, yet he remains still, holding you. “A small price to pay to adequately compliment your beauty.”

Your heart stutters as he steps back, bowing as you hesitantly remember to do the same. “May I see you again?” You ask, hoping your forward nature doesn’t put him off like so many other men.

He smiles broadly, genuine. “I would love that.” 

[starrypen]

hello! i hope you're having a nice day 💕

also, i just fell in love w the way you write, and was wondering if i can request for an specific scenario!! you and jake are friends and have feelings for each other but no one confesses until you end up hooking up at a party 🤨 i thought abt this the whole day but i just know you're gonna write it better! please, and thank you 💗

⋇⊶⊰ BOUND TO HAPPEN ⊱⊷⋇

pairing: crush!jake x fem!reader

genre: smut

summary: a dull college party brings you and your crush closer than ever before. if you cum, you agree to be his girlfriend.

warnings: mentions of alcohol, pet names, oral (receiving), squirt, dom!jake, 2.3k words

a/n: thank u so much for your compliments and for your request <3 i don’t really go to parties so i’m not sure it’s tooooo realistic/accurate, im sorry!!

“i think i just saw jake and his friends walk up your driveway,” you frantically patted at your friends’ arms, waiting, rather impatiently, for one of them to admit that they invited him without telling you.

“it’s cool, y/n, i invited jay and you know that they can’t be separated,” raya’s hand found yours as she spoke. she gave it a tight squeeze before dropping it as three boys walked straight into her kitchen.

“hey, where’s the party at?” one of jay’s friends asked, placing a crate of beer onto the counter. “where is everyone?”

“i said 10,” raya replied, “but who actually arrives at 10?”

“true,” jay responded, continuing the conversation by asking about who he was expecting to see here.

you couldn’t make out any names, all your focus was on the boy to his right. jake. he gave you a friendly smile and a slight wave, one that beckoned you over to him. you grabbed a bottle of beer from the kitchen counter on your way over to him and extended it towards him. he took it with a “thank you,” before grabbing his keys from his jacket pocket and opening the cap. “how have you been? i haven’t seen you in so long,” he joked, knowing you’d shared a lecture together that morning.

“ugh so stressed, there’s this one guy in my class, he’s so annoying!” you snarked back, “jake, i think his name is.”

“nah, i heard he’s super smart and hot, a distraction if anything,” he took a swing of his beer. you mimicked, taking a sip of your drink too. “fuck, what is this shit, tastes rancid!” he pulls it away from his face to read the label, “0%, who brought alcohol free beer to a party?” his eyes landed on the friend of jay’s that had come in shouting, he clicked his tongue and muttered something under his breath. “i genuinely have no idea who that guy is, and i don’t think jay does either,” he laughed, whispering closely into your ear. your hand gripped his arm naturally as he spoke, you were barely able to concentrate on what he said, knowing he was so close to you right now.

“you seriously don’t know him?” you snapped your head around to get another look at the guy, “shouldn’t we like, tell him to leave?”

“nah, no point, looks like he’s already found someone to defend him,” he points over towards the guy again, whose tongue is down raya’s throat.

it’s midnight. the downstairs of raya’s house is full of people, mostly students from your college but some you don’t even recognise. over the last two hours, you realised that the guy who came in with jay and jake was actually the dj that raya had been sleeping with for the past month. he was loud and obnoxiously extroverted, and worst of all, pretty bad at djing.

a hand on the small of your back took you away from the conversation you were having with some people you knew from campus. “we’re playing truth or dare,” jay explained, guiding you to the kitchen, where, thankfully, the music was quieter.

“nah, not really for me,” you replied, turning back on yourself, when you noticed jake. “oh, are you playing?” you asked him, ready to change your mind.

“are you?” he asked back.

“no, she’s being boring!” jay answered for you, leaving you with nothing more to add than an awkward smile.

instead of barging back in on the conversation you were just having with your other friends, you headed to the bathroom upstairs. jake followed quietly. as you went to shut the door, jake slipped into the bathroom with you, only realising once he was actually in the room with you that you probably came in here to use the toilet.

“i’m sorry, i didn’t think this was the uh-” he stuttered his way through the sentence, trying to shut and cover his eyes for no reason.

“no it’s okay i didn’t come in here to,” you coughed in place of the word, “i’m just here to get away from that lot,” you pointed to the floor.

“honestly,” his hand scratched at the back of his head, “i’m kinda bored of this party.”

“me too,” you responded, a little too excitedly as if this was a groundbreaking opinion that you had in common. “shall we go to raya’s room and talk for a bit? or just sit on our phones without being pestered to play some stupid drinking game?”

“yeah, i actually need to tell you something anyway,” he agreed with a shy smile, shuffling into the smallest space possible to let you unlock the door and lead the way, “she won’t mind, right?”

“no, she’s cool with whatever,” you shrug, twisting the door handle and walking into the disaster she calls a room. “don’t mind the mess, 3 girls had to get changed in here earlier!” you explain, as if he’d understand. you propped yourself against her headboard and threw all of the random clothes into the floor. you scurried your feet under the blanket folded at the end of her bed. he joined you after taking off his jacket, resting his head on her pillow, his hands clasped together on his torso. “what did you need to tell me?” you rolled onto your side, your hand sandwiched between your cheek and a pillow.

“oh,” he rolled over to face you, “that guy, leo, he’s the dj.”

your heart sank as he told you, you were kind of hoping for more, and it was definitely clear on your face.

“and also that you look pretty tonight,” he smiled, his hand at your hip, “you always look pretty in fact, i think about how pretty you are all the time.”

you hide your face by burying it into the pillow, “i thought those beers were 0%?”

“i’m being serious y/n,” he clarifies.

you look back at him again. his eyes are filled with sincerity, but it’s hard for you to remain focused on them when your eyes keep falling to his lips. you reassured yourself that it was okay, his eyes were doing the same.

“can i kiss you?” he asks, taking his hand from your hip in favour of tucking a strand of your straightened hair behind your ear.

as he leaned closer, you felt his thumb graze over your lobe a few times. “please,” you whispered.

it seemed to take forever for your lips to finally come together, but when they did, it was everything you’d imagined it to be. he took your bottom lip between his own, enclosing his lips around it more harshly with each kiss. it wasn’t long before your tongues vied to enter the other’s mouth. in the meantime, jake had managed to steady himself on his elbow, soon on top of you, between your legs. you were experienced enough to know exactly where this was going, but that wasn’t what you wanted from this, so you pulled away for a moment.

“jake,” you started, snapping him out of the trance you’d put him in, “i really like you, you know that right?” your hands squeezed as his upper arms.

he melted under your touch. “i do now,” he laughed, “and i really like you too, don’t worry.”

“so, i don’t want this to just be,” you motioned to either side of you both, “just whatever this is.”

“it’s not,” he chuckled before leaning in to give you a small gentle kiss on your lips. another shortly followed, and then a longer one at the corner of your mouth. you played with his hair between your fingers. “baby, you’re already mine,” he commented, kissing your collarbone while tugging at the chest area of your shirt that showed a lot of cleavage. you managed to drop the straps of the top, shaking them off of your arms as jake eagerly tugged at your shirt some more, leaving it be at the middle of your tummy. his kisses trailed over your chest, down to the button on your jeans. “you’re so fucking gorgeous,” he kneels between your legs as he tussles with the denim waistband of his own jeans while you do the same. you undo yours before him and wait for him to take them off for you, which he does along with your panties before even doing his own.

it’s almost as if he forgets to take off his jeans, as he shuffles down the bed with his thumb slowly circling your clit. he replaces his thumb with his plump lips, pressing a small, light kiss against it while your legs try to close in on him. he pulls away, his middle finger lapping your pussy before he gently pushes it in. “if i make you cum tonight, will you be my girlfriend?” his smile is cheeky, but you know jake well enough to know that it’s genuine.

your lips struggle to stay shut as you nod, trying your hardest not to moan under his touch already.

his head ducks again, “good,” he smiles against your clit. his tongue fights the hood of your clit, easily finding the most sensitive part of your body in a matter of seconds. your hand pushes his head further onto you as his tongue works your clit and his fingers curl inside you. you’re not sure when he added another finger, but you’re enjoying it too much to care.

“fuck, jake,” your legs close a little more around his head as you feel a trickle, or maybe a stream, of water run out of you.

“did you just squirt for me, baby?” he looks up at you while biting his lower lip.

“i think,” you laugh awkwardly, “i’ve never done that before!”

“fuck that’s so hot,” his fingers curl inside you one last time before he pulls them out. they’re dripping wet, as you expected. “suck on them princess, make them clean,” he commands. you take the two fingers into your mouth, swirling your tongue around them and trying to take more of their length as you would his cock. while you’re sucking on his fingers, jake manages to unbutton his pants to reveal his dick. he pumps it in his hands a few times while removing his jeans before tapping it against your clit.

“do you,” you pause as he hits it against your clit one more time, causing you to shake in pleasure, “do you have a condom?”

he scrambles off the bed, reaching inside his jacket pocket which he threw to the ground and pulling out a small silver tin filled with condoms. he singled one out and opened it up, rolling it onto his dick with the most adorable concentration face. he climbs back into the bed, his hands coming to your sides to flip you over and help you onto all fours in front of him. you back up, your ass against his hard dick, which is enough for jake to know you want it just as much as he does.

with his hand at the base of his cock, he pushes it into you gently, letting you take it all and get used to his girth.

“should i move?” he asks, almost as if he feels guilty for his size.

you hum, it’s the only thing you can do while he’s inside of you, you realise.

he pulls his dick out and pushes it back in again, soon building up to a pace that suits you both. his hand has found your hair, he’s bunched it together and pulled it all back, using it to keep his balance as he fucks you. you help him keep his rhythm, throwing your ass back against him until he stops abruptly.

“turn over, baby, i miss that beautiful face of yours,” he taps your ass as he pulls out of you. a little short of breath, he relaxes back against his heels while you turn over. your hand finds your clit, rubbing it for him to watch. “is that how you like it?” he asks, mentally taking notes. he takes your hand away and places it near to your face, as if he’s asking you to suck on your fingers. he gets to his knees once again and lines himself up with your pussy. his dick misses a few times, which makes him a little mad at himself. you think it’s cute. he finally gets it in with a groan, “shit, you feel so good,” he compliments, leaning on his hand above your head. his lips find your forehead. he places a gentle kiss against it while whispering, “you look so good under me,” before allowing himself to sit upright again. his pace matches the pace he set before, but this time he added rubbing your clit into the equation, just as you showed him only moments ago.

“jake,” your hand rested on his chest while the other gripped at the sheet beneath you, “i’m cumming,” you moaned and winced, your pussy throbbing around him. you felt so vulnerable in that moment, but you knew you were safe with jake.

“you’re such a good girl,” his came close to your face again, taking your lips between his own and then pulling away as the pulsating became less intense around his dick. he began to fuck you again, but a lot sloppier and with more groans than before. he soon pulled out, pulling off the condom and wobbling and kneeling to the side of you in urgency before spraying your tits with his cum. you took your finger to your chest, scraping up what you could before dripping it into your mouth and sucking the rest off your fingers. jake pulled up his boxers and ran to the bathroom you were in earlier that night to grab a towel, the bathroom bin going with a loud clang as he disposed of the condom. he came back and patted your chest with the towel, your face too, all while laughing to himself.

“what’s funny?” you asked, searching for your own underwear with your hand.

“nothing,” he carried on, chuckling away, “you’re just really cute.” you smiled to yourself, sorting out your rolled up shirt with your other hand to cover your chest again. jake tried to help, but unfortunately the only time he can keep his lips off of yours is to kiss your neck, or mumble against it. “even cuter now that you're my girlfriend.”

“guys, why are you in my-” raya covers her eyes as soon as she notices jake is only in his boxers, “not my best sheets, y/n,” she comments with a cry, before shutting the door, leaving the pair of you to laugh about almost getting caught.

[fandxmslxt69]

Loki (TV) - Speak Now(TV): Enchanted

Loki Laufeyson x f!asgardian!reader

Warnings: some swearing, few thoughts of insecurity, but that';s it. Bad writing lmao. horrible plot too. lazy makeouts too.

Synopsis: You escape to the royal gardens after a shitty start to the ball, but running into an enchanting stranger turns your night for the better. Based on Enchanted by Taylor Swift. Part of a series In The Works.

A/N: Wow this is so bad lmaooo I'll fix it another time but I'm posting it now so I can get into the schedule and be done with!! This is my little very rushed entry for @sarahscribbles Birthday Celebration I LOVE YOU SARAH and you deserve SO MUCH BETTER than this lmao i had so much more planned for this but sadly it all failed with having no wifi this entire vaca, so this is the best I can do. I do promise a part two some time though.

Tags: (I';m tagging everyone who asked to be tagged for this part AND part 2 so I have everyone in one place <3) @divine-knight-hand @the-fox-den @nyxlaufeyson @under00s616 @mischief2sarawr and ofc @sarahscribbles

Word count: 3.5k

There I was again tonight

Forcing laughter, faking smiles

Same old tired, lonely place

The night, in conclusion, was an utter failure. You had been truly excited as the weeks neared to tonight’s ball. You had hoped for an evening full of dancing and laughs, twirling around in the arms of a handsome guy and enjoying light conversation, maybe even some good food.

So far, the food was the only thing that held out. 

You watched from your corner as pairs danced across the floor as music and easy chatter filled the room. Women in dresses of all colours of the rainbow, and men in nicely fitted suits and uniforms. Everyone wore masks, elegant and with elaborate designs that complemented each person’s attire. “This is a waste.” You grumbled to yourself as you tugged at your mask to adjust it in place.

“Perhaps,” One of your friend’s slid into the vacant seat beside you, face flushed from dancing. “You should go ask someone for a dance,” “What?” You snorted. “That’s an ugly look. It’ll seem like I’m desperate,”

“But you are,” She pointed out. 

You rolled your eyes, picking at the plate of fruit delicacies in front of you. “It’s alright. I don’t feel like dancing anyway,” She raised an eyebrow, “Were you not talking about how excited you were to spend all night dancing just this morning?” You threw her a look, getting up without bothering to finish your plate. “I think I’ll go for a walk in the gardens,” You said as you quickly fled out of the room.

Being out of the stuffed ballroom should have made you feel better, but you couldn’t help but feel as if you were still caged. 

Tonight was meant to be fun. It was meant to be an opportunity. For..for socialising, and meeting people, and making friends and, funnily you thought, perhaps meet someone for the night. 

Instead, you walked further through the gardens, trying to ignore all the giggles you heard from lovesick couples as you passed them. When you got further enough from the palace, you slipped off your mask, huffing as you carefully sat down in the wide fields, surrounded by blooming flowers and trees basking in the moonlight. 

You took a deep breath, trying to ease the sense of disappointment that grew like an ugly beast in your chest. Caught up in your feelings, you hadn’t realised someone snuck up on you until you heard a soft crunch from behind you. Your head whipped around immediately, assuming a danger perhaps, until your eyes fell on the man. 

Good gods. 

The man smiled briefly, his mask dangling from his fingers as he seemed to look you over. His hair rested in dark curls on his shoulders, and with the way the moon peeked lightly through the trees and shone on him, he looked heavenly, with a perfect jawline and flawless skin, cheekbones that looked sharp to cut, and eyes that shone with curiosity and mischief.  He fit nicely into his suit, with a lean frame that filled the clothing perfectly. 

He was, as mortals said, a work of art. A being artists and sculptures would surely sell their homes and families to try and capture his beauty. 

I need to calm down.

But he’s gorgeous. There was no hiding it, and you were absolutely sure you stared too long because he raised an eyebrow and the corner of his lips twitched upwards.

Walls of insincerity, shifting eyes and vacancy

Vanished when I saw your face

All I can say is, it was enchanting to meet you

“Sorry,” You muttered quickly, turning your head back to stare holes at the vast openings of the field. This had to be a joke, but a little part of your brain couldn’t help but get excited. 

Handsome young man, a moonlit gorgeous garden, at a ball. 

Could it get any more romantic? 

But that was stupid- the man probably found you a little pathetic, out here all alone rather than enjoying the ball. And you firmly reminded yourself that there would be no making out and naked activities in the royal gardens. And maybe your friend sent him, and if you were too eager you’d seem truly desperate and it would be oh so humiliating and you’d never be able to show your face again in public and-

“I see you’ve found my secret place,” His voice interrupted your spiral of thoughts. 

“Sorry,” You said quickly again. “I wasn’t aware that people could own areas of the royal garden,” You covered your hand with your mouth in horror, refusing to look at the man behind you.

What the fuck was that? 

It was quiet and then you heard him chuckle, as if amused by such a rude remark. He made his way to another part of the garden and took a seat. “You’re right, forgive me, it is open to everyone during the balls,”

You didn’t answer him, or even acknowledge him. Your cheeks were blazing red with horror. From the corner of your eye, you could see him sitting under a tree a little away from you, head ducked low as he…

Is that a book? Is he reading? At a ball? 

You looked behind you to the sound of the light music and chatter coming from the palace, then back at the man by the tree. “Why aren’t you inside?” 

“Why aren’t you inside?” He replied, not even looking up from his book. 

“I asked first,”

He looked up slightly then, raising a perfect eyebrow. So? He challenged silently. 

You rolled your eyes, turning away from him to watch the leaves dance lazily in the evening breeze. You folded and unfolded your hands in your lap. “I got bored of dancing,” Right. 

He didn’t answer right away, a few beats passed as soft music and gentle wind filled the space. Then, he said slowly, as if entertained by all this, “Liar,” 

Your head whirled back to stare at him. “Excuse me?” “Liar,” He said, shrugging like it’s no big deal.

“You’re calling me a liar?” “Is there anyone else here to call a liar?” You could see the small twitch of his lips, and how a little smirk forms as he watches you.

Shit. You had to fight down your own little smile. Perhaps he’s an ass, and maybe a little suspicious- but he’s got a lot more banter and brain in him than everyone else back in the ballroom. 

“And why are you calling me a liar?” 

“Because,” He closed his book dramatically, leaning forward and you could feel trouble radiating off of him. “No one comes to a royal ball to ‘get bored of dancing’,”

“You don’t know that,” “I absolutely do. It’s the biggest event of the year, people come specifically prepared to dance until they can’t feel their feet,” “Fine,” You huffed. “It was getting stuffy, and I was tired of all the war talk and gossip, so I came out here for fresh air,” 

Again, that stupid smirk. “You’re lying,” He said in an overly annoying sing-song voice. “I’m not!” You glared at him. “You are horribly rude,”

“Yet you find it amusing,” “I absolutely don’t,” Childishly, you stuck your tongue out at him, and he laughed, throwing his head back lightly and filling the space between you with such a warm, delightful sound. 

The playful conversation starts

Counter all your quick remarks

Like passing notes in secrecy

You really couldn’t stop the smile that broke across your face. “Alright then, if you suddenly know everything, why do you think I’m out here?” You asked after his laughter died down. 

“Hm…” He tapped a finger to his chin. “No one wanted to dance with you,” You gasped loudly. “Are you calling me undesirable?” “No m’lady,” He had that awfully cute smile again. “You said that, I just said I think no one wants to dance with you,”

You shook your head. “You are unbelievable! You know what, you’re terrible company,” He shrugged. “Then go back inside, perhaps get a chance to dance with the prince,” He said it easily, like he could care less if you stayed or left, but you had the strange feeling that he was challenging you to stay. 

You hummed, pretending to think it over. “You know what, I don’t want to go inside,” “But I thought I was terrible company?” “You are,” You smiled innocently. “But I like the gardens,” He’s too funny to pass up on. 

“Or perhaps you like me,” He had that shit-eating grin, and something in your chest started tingling, secretly hoping you could get more of his smiles. “Besides, you’ll pass up the chance to catch the crown prince’s attention just to sit in some garden?” “Blond isn’t really my type,” Stop talking stop talking stop talking. 

He frowned, staring at you weirdly, clearly taken aback but such a dumb statement. 

“Blond…isn’t your type,” He repeated, and you simply nodded. “So…you’d give up the chance at marrying the next ruler of this realm…because he’s blond,” “Exactly,” Like it made perfect sense. “What can I say? It’s less competition for the other women. I’m being kind,” 

“You’re insane,”

“You asked!”

“Yes but come on, it’s the crown prince,” He raised an eyebrow. “Would you rather marry the farmer’s son? The baker boy, perhaps?”

You rolled your eyes. “No, stupid. There’s other royalty around, obviously. But it’s not like anyone has a chance,” “Other royalty?” He got up then, gracefully making his way over with his book and mask in hand. He sat down beside you. “Do indulge me, what other royalty is there?” Holy. Shit. 

It took you a second to properly process his question. Maybe you lacked romance in your life, maybe you were too isolated, or maybe you were just really desperate for some decent conversation tonight, but you felt like you were losing your everloving mind.

He was breathtaking. You thought from afar he was beautiful, but now this close? You felt the air die in your throat as you properly looked over his face, your eyes catching on every detail. 

His sharp angles.

The exact green of his eyes- emerald, pretty much identical to the jewel. 

And the way he looked when the light shine of the moon hit his face? And the wind gently combed through his hair? He looked heavenly. 

Godly, even.

And it was enchanting to meet you

All I can say is, I was enchanted to meet you

You were definitely staring (again) and he turned to look at you, those pretty lips forming another stupid smirk. “Yes?” You looked away. “Nothing. What was the question?”

He chuckled. “What other royalty is there?” “Oh, yes,” You frowned. “Are you new around here?” “No, why?” “There’s two princes. Prince Thor, and prince Loki,” “Ah right,” He pursed his lips. “But only one is looking for a bride,” “Yes well, all princes must eventually find a partner, no?” He shrugged. “I suppose so. So, if you won’t go for the blond, you’ll go for his brother? Woo him with your snarky comments and strange conversation habits?”

You smacked his arm lightly. “You really do not know how to talk to a lady. And no one ever said I’m “going for” anyone’s brother. I don’t want to marry a prince,” “That is the biggest lie I have ever heard,” He pointed at you accusingly. “Everyone wants to marry royalty,” 

“Nope,” You shook your head. “Not me,” But you could tell from the way his eyes shone with mischief and the smile on his lips that he could so easily read through you. 

“So you don’t have epic fantasy daydreams about marrying a handsome prince and gaining status, riches and power and living in the palace? Absolutely none about becoming royalty of Asgard? Nothing?” 

“Weeellll,” You smiled wide. “Perhaps,” “Was he blond, your prince?” “I just told you, I’m not into blonds,” He nodded, like this was absolutely serious and he was understanding it better. “Right, so you had dreams about prince Loki then,” “What?!” Your eyes widened. “I didn’t say that!” “You hinted at it,” He pointed out.

“You- I did not! You are so arrogant, thinking you know everything!” You glared at him, face flushed from his accusation. I don’t even know why I’m even having this conversation with a strange man I met less than 10 minutes ago,” You plucked a flower from nearby and started plucking off the petals one by one, watching them slowly fall onto your skirt. “You think you’re so smart and you make horrible accusations-” “Why are you getting so defensive?” He sounded amused by this.

“I’m not!” You definitely were. “You’re just getting on my nerve,” You turned to glare at him again, but he had a funny look on his face, he didn’t even look upset, or confused, or insulted. He was simply…..looking at you. “I think you need to work on your manners,” “And I think you’re beautiful,” He said suddenly as he leaned in, the words a soft whisper, a secret shared between two strangers hidden away from the world.

You felt your face heat up, and your heart started beating faster. A swarm of butterflies erupted in your stomach, and you suddenly had the urge to fall back and kick your feet in the air while giggling. 

Oh. Oh. Oh. 

“Oh..um, oh,” You laughed nervously, looking down shyly. But you could still feel his eyes on you, his face close enough that you can see his bottom lashes brush his cheek lightly, and the small movements of his face. “Thank...you. Thank you,” You swallowed hard. “You’re…uh, really beautiful too,” You rushed the words out. You looked up a little to see his green eyes widened a fraction, a little smile tugging at his lips, and then the faintest colour red dusting his cheeks. 

“Thank you,” 

You nodded dumbly and looked away again, biting your lip to keep the laugh bubbling inside of you to stay down. 

“What’s so funny?” He whispered. 

Fuuck. You could feel yourself panic a little. He was so close. So pretty too. How could a man be so pretty? He had to be magic, right? He’s too gorgeous to be anything less than ethereal. 

“Nothing,” You paused, biting your lip harder before a smile broke across your face, and a light laugh escaped you. “Sorry, sorry nothing’s funny,” His face broke into a smile. “You know, it’s rather rude to laugh at someone and avoid eye contact. It insinuates that you’re laughing at me,” His tone was teasing.

“I’m not!” You laughed again, shaking your head. “I’m not. Laughing at you, that is,” “Then look at me,” His finger lifted your chin up, and you sucked in a breath at how close you were. A few hairs apart, his pretty eyes looking at you in a way that made your heart flutter and insides melt to goo. And that smile. 

You felt your chest squeeze with a sense of familiarity. That smile…it’s familiar, like you’ve seen it before a million times but yet, you can’t place where. 

“I…” You started, and his eyes fell to your lips. “I want to kiss you,” He declared suddenly, and you swore the earth danced faster. 

“Kiss me then,” You replied, and just as fast, his lips fell lazily to yours. 

This night is sparkling, don’t you let it go

I’m wonderstruck, blushing all the way home

There were no good enough words that could describe how his lips felt against yours. In the back of your mind, you grabbed desperately at the languages you know, mortal and beyond, to find something to put this in words, a phrase, a string of letters, to explain the feeling of melting completely at his touch. 

His soft lips moved slowly against yours, his hand moved up to cup the side of your face and pull you closer. It wasn’t a heated or lustful kiss, nor overly passionate. More of…a gentle caress, a lazy press of plush lips against yours in a pretty garden under the moonlight. He pulled away just as fast, his eyes searched your face.

You were…breathless. It was the most simple kiss and yet, it seemed to have turned your world upside down. Your mind was empty, yet at the same time it spun a million miles an hour but with no coherent things.

Just the thought of him. His lips. His kiss. His pretty eyes and perfect face and gentle hands. Your heart stuttered. You couldn’t help but think, if you went a lifetime without another kiss like that? You might go insane. You’d rather him kill you. Death would be better, more merciful than knowing you’d never experience this again. 

There it was. 

“Ya’aburnee,” You muttered softly, and when his eyes snapped up from staring at your lips to your eyes, you realised you said that out loud.

“What?” “Nothing,” You shook your head. “Nothing,” “Not nothing,” He moved closer, your knees now touching and you felt the renewed need to kiss him. “What did you say?” “A word,” Your eyes fell to his lips. 

“Mm,” He leaned in, eyes fluttering shut and brushing his lips against yours. “What does it mean?” “Um,” You felt a hazy rush course through you, and you couldn’t form proper words. “I don’t know,” You lied quickly, chasing after his lips. 

A look flashed across his face, as if he knew you were lying, before it disappeared. He pressed his lips against yours again and you sighed happily. He kissed you deeper, his tongue slipping into your mouth and suddenly, you were both all over each other. 

He pulled you onto his lap, your dress bunching up at your thighs as you straddled him, your kisses growing sloppy as your tongues tangled together and your breathing got heavier and turned into heated pants. His hands tugged at your hair, and yours ran through his soft curls, making their way down over his shoulders and down his chest, searching and feeling the clearly built body underneath. 

You pulled away after a few minutes, eyes searching his face. His now slightly bruised, and the flush of his cheeks and the wildness of his eyes. He smiled softly and your heart did another flip. He opened his mouth to say something before snapping it shut, a frown forming on his face as his eyes wandered to stare behind you. 

You shifted around to turn. “What’s wrong?” “Nothing,” His hands fell to your hips. “Just…do you hear that?”

You frowned then too, straining your ears to listen. 

“No…? What are we-...oh.” You heard the soft ticking of the palace clock, and the soft slow instrumental signalling the last dance of the night. “Oh. I guess we lost track of the hour,” He hummed. “Yes, it does seem so,” He paused, as if thinking something over before smiling. “Dance with me,”

Your eyes widened. “What?” “Dance with me,” He repeated again. “You didn’t get a dance tonight, did you? Well, let’s fix it.” “But we’re all the way out here,” You stated dumbly. 

He raised a perfect eyebrow. “And?” “I-...well…I mean-...” He stared at you intensely, his emerald eyes searching your face. You sighed, shaking your head. “Okay,” You finally gave in, because with the way he looked at you there was no way you could’ve said no anyway. 

You got up off of him, dusting off your dress and patting back into place. When he got up and you caught his face in the light of the moon, your heart soared at the smudges of lipstick on his lips and on the corners, you couldn’t help but give a satisfied smile. His hair fell in messy curls now and he needed a minute to adjust his suit. 

You softly patted down your hair, trying to fix the hair do and your appearance despite the lack of mirrors. 

He took a step towards you, holding out his hand. You took it and he pulled you flush against him and you had to strain your neck full up to meet his eyes. He grinned that same wicked smile and placed a hand on your waist as he carefully began dancing through the music with you. 

It was a magical experience, to be in this gorgeous garden and have the chance to dance away under the stars with a beautiful stranger. It felt straight out of a fairy tale. 

All too soon, the music faded and you could hear the faint sounds of clapping and cheers from the party guests. You looked around, then back up at your pretty stranger with a small smile. “That was fun,” You whispered, as if scared that too loud of a noise would shatter this delicate moment. 

“Mm, very much,” He smiled back softly, his other hand dropping to rest on your hips. He leaned down, his lips ghosting over yours and you felt that lazy hazy cloud over you again. “We should get back,” He mumbled between kisses. 

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer and pressing your lips to his. His smell was intoxicating, and the feel of him so close made you dizzy. “We should,” You muttered, before kissing him again. He fumbled with the fabric of your dress, but before he could even think of getting further you pulled away quickly, straining your ears to hear the far away noise of horses and loud chatter. 

Right. End of party. Oh god.

You looked back at him, a mournful ache coursing through you. “I have to get back,” He frowned. “What? Why? Stay here,” He pulled you closer but you only shook your head. “I can’t! I came with my family, they’ll be looking for me soon,” You reluctantly detached yourself from him and quickly worked to fix yourself up. He looked like he was about to argue, but he simply nodded. “Very well. I’ll…walk you back?” You grinned and nodded back. “Thank you,” You quickly grabbed your discarded purse and mask before linking your arm to his as he began to lead the way back, his mask swaying back and forth in his free hand. You snuck a few glances at him as you neared the palace, and you swore in the light of the surrounding palace area he seemed to almost…stiffen, and something slipped over his face. He looked so damn familiar, you cursed yourself for not being able to piece it together properly. You still felt dizzy from the eventful evening, and who could blame you? 

When you made it to the carriages and turned to face him, smiling a little nervously. “Bye I guess,” A small smile ghosted over his lips as he let go of your arm, his hands now resting behind his back as he stood in all his beautiful glory. You basked in his beauty for a few seconds more, before something in your mind clicked. 

There’s no fucking way. Your eyes widened, but you tried to keep your mind from spinning out of control. The way he stood now, the expression on his face- empty- but with eyes as wild as a storm, no wonder you thought he looked familiar. He held himself like royalty, he was regal and elegant and majestic in a way no other person could ever be. 

He was, in every sense, magical. 

You felt…enchanted by his presence, and you were sure you were staring. 

You swallowed hard, mentally calming yourself down from the fact that you’ll probably never experience this again. 

“Thank you for the dance, your highness,” You said as quickly and politely as possible. You caught sight of the way his eyes widened and his expression went from emotionless to absolute shock. You turned around and practically ran for your life towards your carriage, already spotting your friends waiting by. 

As you got into the carriage, greeting your friends and ignoring their very obvious questions, you felt a pang of sadness hit through you at the thought of the night ending, but then a bit of joy, because you just got to dance with the prince, and nothing would get more magical or enchanting than that. 

I’ll spend forever wondering if you knew

I was enchanted to meet you

[humbledragon669]

S1E4 – Saturday Morning Funtime Write Up P2 - Saturday (The last day of the World) from The Fields of Megiddo to "You're better off without him."

Given the rather abrupt interruption I made to the previous part of the write up for this episode, let’s just get stuck straight in and pick up where I left off. Other than the lovely implication that selfies are the work of the devil, there’s only one thing I want to talk about in relation to this scene, and it’s the music. It’s been a while since I waxed lyrical over David Arnold’s soundtrack, so I’m sure it’s about time I brought it up again. We can hear a piece of incidental music playing throughout the conversation between Hastur and Eric (or Junior Demon if you’re looking at the original script), the character of which perfectly underscores the tone of the conversation. There are three sections to it – one for each iteration of the disposable demon, each growing less playful than the last (represented by the harpsichord in the orchestration). What I especially love about this little piece of music is that if you listen really, really carefully, you can pick out some instances of the motif from the theme music (played by a glockenspiel). It’s a lovely reminder of how much music enriches our experience of film and television without us even realising it.

Without giving a blow-by-blow description of what’s going on in the episode (which I’m sure you’d agree would be tedious both to write and read), I don’t have much to say about the next scene either, other than pointing out Anathema’s pathological desire to feed the kids whenever they appear. It makes me wonder if she’s like that with everyone (in which case Aziraphale would probably adore her) or it’s just children (in which case, creepy). It is interesting to see that Adam’s nature is starting to be corrupted by his powers – where the consequences were previously of a childlike innocent nature, they are now starting to manifest in his attempts to dominate others. We also have confirmation that the change in his nature is now being noticed by others in his vicinity.

Hastur’s next scene, other than providing some lovely moments of perfectly delivered black comedy, forms a mainly narrative purpose, serving nicely to remind us why Aziraphale was so incredulous at the Antichrist being left with an American diplomat’s family in the first place – they’re abhorrent. The Dowlings I mean, not all Americans. Or even all American diplomats. Not that I know any American diplomats to say any different. Anyway. We also see how quick Hastur is to come to the (correct) conclusion that Crowley is to blame for this monumental cock up. Given that Hastur shows his dislike of our demon just prior to the baby switcheroo 11 years earlier (and who knows how long he’s actually felt that way), it’s almost surprising that it’s taken him this long to find something concrete against Crowley.

Alright, Easter egg time! The scene of Crowley in the cinema has a couple. Let’s start with the one glaring at us from the movie theatre screen.

That’s our episode title, right there in front of our eyes! I don’t know whether these creepy little rabbits were always intended to be holding the banners and this is where the episode title came from, whether the episode title came first, or whether it’s somewhere between the two but I love the meta-reference nonetheless. Whilst we’re on the topic of those weird little fuckers, has anybody stopped to wonder why, in the name of all that is and isn’t holy, has Crowley would pick this film to watch? I know we get that deliciously dark sequence of a bunny massacring another bunny as a result, but it’s an odd choice for the demon you have to admit.

Second Easter egg:

The only other audience member in the movie theatre, in case you didn’t already know, is played by a certain Neil Gaiman. Who also happens to provide the voice for the cutesy-wutesy bunny rabbits on the screen. It’s tempting to ask the same question about why on earth an adult man would choose this child’s cartoon to watch, alone, on a Saturday morning but really I’m just chuffed to bits that they found a cameo for Neil.

As a quick side note, I also want to point out that the attention to detail has not been neglected in the cartoon – the frog (toad?) on Hastur’s head can be seen gesticulating in line with his speech. Not to mention you can sporadically hear a “ribbit” in the background. Bloody genius.

Back with Anathema (who, for once, does not offer her guest any food) and Newton, there’s an interesting return to the idea that the same word can be used to convey different meanings dependent on its recipient. Remember back when Adam showed up on her Anathema’s doorstep and she renamed herself to accommodate his preconceived ideas? Well she switches right back to calling herself a witch here, for the exact same reason, but with Newton instead. In fairness, he’s playing the same game in calling himself a computer engineer. And whilst I appreciate the need to remove matches from this particular individual, I wasn’t actually aware that he had any, though we do know he has firelighters.

Side note: there is a note written on a newspaper article pinned on the board in this scene:

It might be nothing at all, but if anybody has any suggestions as to whether there’s an Easter egg to be found here, I’m all ears.

Moving on into Adam’s rapidly increasing decline into his true nature, the only thing I have to say about the scene with The Them being dragged through the woods is that the speech delivered by the aspiring Antichrist here is incredibly relevant to current day.

Everything’s being killed or used up and no one takes it seriously. Everyone thinks somehow it’ll all get better again.

Makes it rather difficult to argue with him, doesn’t it? Don’t get me wrong, I don’t believe global extinction is the way to go about fixing things, but his point is valid. And from a child’s perspective, it might actually seem logical that the way to solve the problem is to just start everything from new.

OK, I need to take a moment here to do a little bit of an outline, because for some reason, my brain really struggles to comprehend the timeline of the Crowley and Aziraphale scenes for the rest of this episode. Which isn’t so unusual, given that we don’t see them all in chronological order, but there’s just something about these scenes that I find hard to make them piece together into a whole story. So, here’s the sequence as I understand it:

Crowley visits the movie theatre, where he discovers that Hell knows he has something to do with the Antichrist mix up.

Crowley goes to Soho to try and convince Aziraphale to run away together.

Aziraphale is confronted on the street by a group of archangels, telling him he has to choose a side (complete with a threatening wall slam).

Aziraphale attempts to talk to God, where he discovers that Heaven intends to have their war, regardless of any external circumstances.

Hastur and Ligur arrive at Crowley’s apartment (probably concurrent with Aziraphale talking to Metatron) to “collect” him.

Aziraphale calls Crowley to tell him he knows where the Antichrist is (and presumably to suggest they do something about it together), approximately 28 minutes after his attack.

Shadwell enters the book shop, triggering the Aziraphale’s discorporation and causing the fire to start.

Crowley leaves his apartment to go and get Aziraphale having heard the voicemail he left. This may or may not be after Aziraphale has already been discorporated.

I think that’s it. Even now I feel confused about it all, and I have no idea why. I probably didn’t need to spell it all out quite so explicitly for anyone other than myself but hey, this is my write up, so my rules.

OK, let’s move on to another horribly painful exchange between Crowley and Aziraphale, shall we? Before we get there though, it would be remiss of me not to talk about the Bentley’s registration plate. I *think* this is the first time we see it properly, as it’s obscured by the front bumper in most of the shots in episode 2.

It’s a pretty poor picture, but the registration is “NIAT RUC”. As in “curtain” backwards. As I understand it, this is a reference to some writing on the wall of a mausoleum in “Monty Python’s Meaning of Life”, paying homage to Terry Gilliam (one of the Monty Python members) who was involved in the first attempt to bring Good Omens to the screen.

Alright, first question about the upcoming scene. Why doesn’t Crowley just park the Bentley in his usual parking spot and go looking for Aziraphale? We can be pretty sure that the only reason he would be driving through that particular street in Soho is going to be something to do with Aziraphale. The space across the book shop is empty when he drives past it, yet he barely slows down to take the corner. Why not just park?

Next question about the exchange that takes place between our hero pair. What exactly is Crowley apologising for? By my reckoning it was Aziraphale that delivered the deciding blow during the breakup in the previous episode, even if his reasons were honourable.

My money on the answer to this question is that Crowley is in full panic mode at this point. He knows that apologising is likely the only way he’s going to be able to spark any sort of conversation with Aziraphale, hopefully taking him so off guard that he simply does as instructed. And it nearly works – you can see the angel’s relief when his shoulders relax.

He’s desperate – why else would he offer such a carte blanche apology for “whatever he said”? The fact that Hell have finally twigged to his involvement has sent him into full flight mode and the only thing he’s stopped to collect on his way out of dodge is the only thing that really matters to him – Aziraphale. He doesn’t believe he has time to talk about it – it has to be now and he’s asking Aziraphale to trust him. As a human resident on Earth, I feel obliged to side with Aziraphale on this one, seeing as he’s still trying to find a way to stop the obliteration of the human race. But that doesn’t make the rejection any less heartbreaking, even though he does seem to give it a micro-second of consideration before he digs his heels in.

And can we just take a pause on Crowley’s choice of words for his plea? “Run away together”, that’s what he says. This is such a clear indication of the true nature of their relationship to me – running away together is generally not the sort of thing people entertain in a platonic way, is it? Noticeably, Aziraphale doesn’t reject the idea of being “together”, which further serves to the idea that they are already familiar with exactly what the connotations of the word, and that it’s something he’s comfortable with. His rejection is actually grounded in the fact that he thinks he can still persuade the powers that be to just call the whole thing off by simply talking some sense into them, so he brushes Crowley’s panic off as “ridiculous” (side note: the music kicking in at this point should tell us that this discussion is on a road to nowhere – we’ve got slushy strings in a minor key again). What he fails to realise is that even if he can by some miracle (no pun intended) actually pull that off, Hell will still be looking to wreak some sort of personal revenge on Crowley for his involvement in the Antichrist mix-up. Crowley hasn’t forgotten that though, you can see the panic written all over his face as the realisation that Aziraphale isn’t on the same page as him.

What Crowley has failed to realise is that he’s not the only one panicking. Aziraphale is on that train too, but he’s taking a very healthy dose of denial with him. He simply cannot contemplate the possibility that the whole situation can’t be fixed. Crowley’s pleading might be painful to hear but I find it harder to watch Aziraphale’s version of the same emotion – you can almost hear him screaming at Crowley, trying to explain how terrified he is and how much he needs him on side.

Let’s not forget that Aziraphale desperately wants to be a company man. He wants to believe that his side is the inherently good side. That everything they do can be justified by sound moral decisions. Asking him to stop believing that would undo everything he is and ever has been. Even if it is completely ridiculous. We shouldn’t forget that because Crowley, in his panic, does.

You’re so clever. How can somebody as clever as you be so stupid?

That one little line, emotionally vomited as it is, conveys so much about Crowley’s feelings. I’m trying to think of another instance where he reveals an opinion he holds about Aziraphale, particularly one that is complimentary, and I am coming up blank. Admittedly I don’t know the entire script by memory (probably not far off) so I wouldn’t swear by it, but I think those three words about Aziraphale’s intelligence are exceptional as far as Crowley’s talking of the angel is concerned. And then he has to go and spoil it by calling Aziraphale “stupid”. There is little doubt at how affronted he is at that particular term.

We all know what’s coming next. Aziraphale’s very own stick-the-knife in phrase to counter Crowley’s use of the “s” word.

It’s not the first time we have seen Aziraphale express a desire for Crowley to be forgiven, but it is the first time we see him actually offering forgiveness. When I watched this scene through for the first time, I found myself wondering what Aziraphale thinks he’s forgiving Crowley for, but having seen the fleeting looks of panic on his face we’ve seen throughout this conversation, I think it’s for not understanding he needs him to stay, for not hearing the subtext he has been trying to convey. I also happen to think that Aziraphale actually uses this 3-word phrase as a coded way of telling Crowley that the conversation is over, nothing more to discuss, not unless the demon makes a compromise. I will be talking about that a fair bit when I get to its use in the Final 15, but for now let’s just say it has its desired effect – Crowley’s response is one of frustration and the discussion is indeed over.

What I find interesting is that Aziraphale appears to be confused by the reaction he gets, before the pain of watching Crowley walk away again sets in. It’s almost as if he realises he might have misjudged the situation, failed to understand how frightened Crowley is, and I think we can see real self-doubt there for a second before the demon delivers the final blow as he characteristically runs away from the difficult situation.

I think there is likely a bit more than a literal meaning to Crowley’s statement that he’s going to be “off in the stars”, particularly given what we saw of Lesley demise earlier in the episode. As briefly mentioned, the concept of entities residing within starlight at the end of their mortal lives is something that Neil uses in other works too (and not just in his work – this idea can be found in varying guises across multiple faith systems). Perhaps this is part of the reason Aziraphale is so reluctant to go with him? Either way, I don’t think it’s too much of a stretch to say that Crowley is clearly bluffing with his departing line, and knows he is.

WON’T EVEN THINK ABOUT YOU GIF

The whole dismissal feels full of holes really, after all, why on earth why would you need to go and get anything at all if you were planning on leaving the planet? Why didn’t he just take the things he wanted when he left his apartment on his way to Soho in the first place? Honestly, I don’t think he thought he’d entertained the idea that the conversation with Aziraphale would have resulted in anything other than them joining forces again, one way or the other, but the fact that he announces to Aziraphale that he’s going home says to me that he has no intention of doing anything other than that. He knows he has to reassess his options now that he doesn’t have what he came for. And how much do we all love that passer-by? He sees their relationship for what it really is, just from a single line of heated argument.

I’ve been there. You’re better off without him.

Importantly, Aziraphale doesn’t try to correct him in his assumption that they are a couple. And the passer-by is wrong of course, we all know that Crowley and Aziraphale are much stronger when they’re together. Better together you might say. Even Aziraphale knows it.

Right, that’s the lot for this part! As usual, comments, questions, discussion, always welcome. See you next time 😊

[lil-melody-moon]

Today is a full year of my obsession with Keith Moon. One year without a day of a break or any shifts of attention to anyone else. It's special to me, because it never happened before that I was this interested in someone, going so far as to get his biography and read it in English - I had no other choice, but I could still give up because it's not translated.

Being his fan brought much happiness to me. The music The Who made helped me carry on in the worst moments at university, it kept me alive, making me realise some things, but most importantly, I think it's beautiful how being Keith's fan fixed me.

I came back to reading and writing, something that was always my passion, I don't feel as lonely as I did two years ago somehow thinking about him got rid of it and I started to feel more like myself again - I'm still in the process of recovering my true self and I think I'm nearing the end of this difficult path, I started smiling more often, feel pure joy, just feel better in general thanks to him and the music he helped to create.

There's no way I could thank him for that, but I do like to believe that he sees everything from up above and he's still happy that he can make someone laugh and not feel sad anymore. I hope I will not lose myself anymore and that I can carry on with him by my side, because for now that's all I want. To always have some means to hear him drum and sing, see him on videos or just to see him in photos.

I adore him more than I thought I will anyone, so that's why, besides this big thank you, I also wanted to write a one-shot. It's a self-insert, self-indulgent piece that's heavily based on what I've read about him. Hopefully, the ones who'll read it will have fun reading it. The fic is under the cut:

It was a lazy, very lazy afternoon at the beach house at Victoria Point Road. Standing on the balcony, the sounds of the sea were the only things heard and that was depressing in a way. So much money went in this house, it was in the best spot somebody could live in. Californian beaches were the greatest as far as the girl could say, but that still didn't push away how lonely it could be there.

Used to the heartbeat of the city, always having somewhere to go, to drink and party usually, this calm was leaving scars on her mental state and her boyfriend's one. Calm days were at hand, she saw him lurking somewhere in the corner with a book, she decided to not disturb him. Not after what happened two days ago.

Keith was almost always drunk and high, exceptions being the days of break, such as these ones. Caroline left the house to go do some shopping, she told Keith where she was going, how much time it'll take her and when she'll definitely be back at home. She was always giving herself extra time if she was to take longer at shopping. Keith was all okay with it until she came back home, late for the first time in a while.

"Where the fuck have you been?!" Came the shout when she closed the door. Only then did she realise she was late and a fight was already at hand.

Keith was drunk, not a single word was getting to him and so the yelling began. It almost ended in a physical fight when Keith lost his temper and raised his hand in an attempt to hit Caroline. She paled at that, but she didn't cover. "Come on, hit me!" she yelled instead. "Your drunk mind isn't capable of doing anything else than that!"

His hand didn't slap her cheek, his dizzy mind reminding him of why he lost his wife in the first place and he forgo it, letting his hand fall down. The relief that Caroline felt didn't show on her face, her expression stayed unchanged, still angry at him for lashing out at her for being late. From the very beginning she knew what she was signing herself up to, she only didn't expect it to be this bad.

A quiet "sorry" was mumbled, the anger disappearing, replaced by an emotion of regret. "I did come back" Caroline pointed out, her tone still cold. "I've got late because of the queue in the shop. I was rushing back home, knowing I might be a minute or so late, not this much." Her voice was becoming softer. She peeked at the clock seeing that she was almost 40 minutes late. Not what she wanted to do.

Caroline could guess that this moment started the calm days again, where Keith took a break from boozing. She only wished for the days to last longer, but she also knew Keith would grew bored of that and start the loop again. A sigh left her lips, these few days were only for her to prepare for the worst to come again.

How many times did she ask him to go seek help? She didn't know.

How many times did she plead him to go to rehab and promise that she'll help him get better? She hadn't had a clue.

How many times she tried to give him hope that they'll find a good psychiatrist to help him with his inner troubles? She would run out of her fingers and toes to count.

Maybe it was the time in which they lived that nobody was out there to help him or maybe fate just wanted it that way. It only left her to wonder on this lonesome balcony, her green eyes watching the waves. A call of her name brought her out of this state. She turned to see Keith walking towards her, his red and black bathrobe covering him. He got chubbier with years, bloated if she could use any other, more correct term, he looked older than his age indicated, but he was still the guy she met after the concert and who suddenly started to keep in touch with her.

The smile she loved apparent on his face when she looked at him. A smile appeared on her face as well, it was impossible to not smile back at him. "Finished with the book?" she asked, starting the conversation. Keith joined her on the balcony, hooking their arms together.

"Not entirely" he said, adding right after. "Felt a bit lonely there."

Caroline placed her hand on his, their hands laying connected on the railing. "You could tell me, I would join you in reading."

Sometimes they read different books and showed each other fragments, commenting on them. Keith was fond of peeking his head above her arm to see what was written on her page, forgetting about what he was reading. His hand was slapping her one when she wanted to turn the page and he didn't finish reading.

"You have your own book." Caroline always said.

"Yours is more interesting." Was Keith's answer.

And sometimes they read the same one, Keith eager to read the dialogues aloud, Caroline taking care of the narration. Keith took care to make the book one hundred times funnier than normally, causing even the most sad part be somehow unnecessary dramatic.

"I wanted to join you here" Keith answered, placing his other hand on her arm, stroking it. "Look, I'm sorry for what happened the day before yesterday." Keith looked hurt at the memory of how he screamed at her, he was truly apologising, like he always did. "I won't do that ever again."

It wasn't the first time he said it. "I know." Caroline shifted closer to him. "I forgive you." She didn't say it for the first time as well. They both knew that it will repeat in a few days at a slight inconvenience, but both couldn't live without the other. Caroline was too forgiving and Keith was out of control, yet the love that connected them made it possible to live together.

"Thank you." It was almost inaudible what Keith said, but the silence at their house made it possible for Caroline to hear it. "I'm so fucking bored" he complained, looking down at the sand.

"We can search for something to do" Caroline suggested and upon seeing Keith's curious expression she suddenly smiled. Freeing her hand, she winked at him, asking him to wait here a bit. She went inside to search for what she brought at the shop the last time. It was impossible for her to not go to the bookstore. It was mainly the reason why she got late, but she had to lie to Keith to not spoil the surprise.

Keith waited for her, seeing her coming back, hands behind her back. "What do you have there?" He got immediately interested, leaving his spot and walking to her, wanting to grab the thing. Caroline took a few steps back, until she hit the wall, denying Keith any access to the thing she held in her hands now pressed to her back. Keith pouted at that.

"Something you'll love" she started mysteriously, seeing that childish glint in his brown eyes. "Wanna guess?"

"This will take me only one try!" Keith claimed surely. "But maybe one tiny hint, please?"

"Hmmm…" Caroline looked up, thinking about a hint. She felt Keith's hands sneaking behind her back, she squirmed, covering the thing, saying: "No cheating Keith!"

"Then hurry up!" He had no patience, which only made Caroline more amused.

"It's something that has a treasure hidden inside" she finally said, making the hint as general as she could to not give him an easy one.

"Something like a box that has a hidden thing inside?" Keith asked, not caring if it was against the rules.

"No." Caroline shook her head. "But it has a treasure nevertheless." She giggled, adding another hint. "A treasure you need a map for."

Keith's eyes shined when he heard that. "A map that was left by someone? A pirate, perhaps?"

The childish grin that appeared on his face when she nodded could make her forgive him for everything. Sober Keith was the one who was hidden beneath that mask he was putting on when he was in public. It was her childish, insecure boy who loved a certain story. "Is it a book that you got?"

"Yes!" Caroline exclaimed, taking out from behind her back a new release of Treasure Island. "Look what I've found at the bookstore!"

Keith grabbed the children's book, not believing his eyes. He had to flip through it and read the fragments to really believe what he was holding in his hand. Caroline knew it was his favourite. Keith knew it by heart, but it never hurt anyone to have a copy at home.

"I thought that maybe… We could read it together?" Her suggestion was finally out, Keith hearing her still too mesmerised by the book to answer. She neared closer, looking with him at the text and drawings. She wrapped her arms around his waist. "What do you say?"

There was a moment of silence before she heard Keith's voice change, knowing that they will be busy with the book and acting for the rest of the day. "You can count on Long John Silver, my lady!"

[flurrys-creativity]

Beast behaviour

Pairing: Jung Wooyoung (Ateez) x Fem!Reader; Genre: Hybrid AU, SMUT; Rating: nsfw, 18+, MDNI; Warnings: Fox hybrid Wooyoung, who gets unbearable during his ruts, bunny hybrid reader, unprotected sex, knotting, also whiny woo, semi-public sex; Wordcount: 3.373

Summary: Just like everybody got hangry when they missed a meal, Wooyoung got unbearable when he didn’t follow his fox hybrid instincts during his ruts. He would have kept in his room and fought through it like any other year but with his roommates insisting on meeting someone, he followed their request. Only to meet you, a bunny hybrid.

A/N: Pleaseeee... whoever gave him those fox ears hairband.. thank you!!! Didn’t know I needed that mental image... 

“WHAT?” Wooyoung nothing but yelled at the interruption as he turned in his seat and glared at the slowly opening door. His pointed ears drew back and the edges of his mouth twitched as if he wanted to bare his fangs at the intruder at any moment.

Yeosang peaked through the gap of the door with a nervous smile on his lips. “I just wanted to know if I should order something to eat for you too.” 

Wooyoung growled at his friend while his tail flicked behind him with agitation. Right now he had other worries than food and his friend should know that - or at least so he thought. “Leave,” Wooyoung snarled at Yeosang, eyes narrowing threateningly.

“Alright, alright”, Yeosang murmured and retreated, closing the door behind him. “You’re such a pain in the ass during your rut!” Before Wooyoung could storm out of his room and tear him apart, Yeosang fled the scene, sharing one knowing glance with their roommate Yunho, who stood at the edge of the hallway and waited for him.

“I assume he’s always like that?” Yunho asked and turned towards the living room, plopping down on the couch while he waited for Yeosang to answer.

Yeosang plopped down as well and sighed deeply, throwing one arm over his eyes as he leaned back into the cushions. “It gets worse every year. It seems.” Another sigh left his lips. “He should seek help during his rut but instead he just holes himself in his room until it is over.”

“But with every year without a mate it gets harder”, Yunho finished and nodded slowly, understanding the annoyance his roommate felt to some degree. 

Even though he only got to know both of them at the start of their college years, Yunho connected quite well with the duo. Most of the time it wasn’t that noticeable that he didn’t know them since kindergarten like Yeosang and Wooyoung did. Only moments like these made him realise that Yeosang and Wooyoung shared a deeper bond together.

“You said he should seek help, right?”

Yeosang removed his arm from his eyes and glanced at Yunho, who grinned knowingly. “Yeah?” His voice was tentative, unsure what kind of idea Yunho had produced now.

“I heard from Mingi about a service to help with ruts.”

“I don’t think some service-”

“No, no, no! It’s not really an official service! But there is this bunny hybrid in one of our classes and apparently she offers to help others during their ruts. Rumours have it she doesn’t even charge for it because it fulfils her desires.” Yunho straightened in his position, conspiratorially leaning towards Yeosang. “She’s often in the music rooms. Which are soundproof by the way.”

Yeosang contemplated the information, rolling his head from side to side. “I still don’t think Woo would be up for something like that.”

“Maybe not but maybe he would be”, Yunho mentioned and shrugged with his shoulders, “it wouldn’t hurt telling him about it. He can still decide whether he’d follow it or not.”

“Yeah, okay. Write down the details. I’ll slip the note into his room before I head to bed this evening.”

~~~

Wooyoung stared at the scribbled words on the note, his brows furrowed in disdain. He read over the name and the location again, scoffing at the little added sentence ‘she can help you’ and the winking smiley in the corner of the piece of paper.

His thoughts wandered into dark places as he tried imagining the person behind that name. A sensual figure danced through his mind, a soft fox tail wrapped around the body to cover all the intimate parts while the pointed red ears focused on him.

Wooyoung palmed himself through his sweatpants, his own fox tail swishing behind him from excitement. Maybe he should go and seek some help otherwise the next few days would become close to painful.

After tugging himself away, Wooyoung made his way to the campus grounds. He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket and drew his shoulders up to his chin. It felt almost wrong to be outside while his rut was in full swing. Wooyoung knew every other hybrid that passed him, would be able to smell the spike in his pheromones and in the worst scenario they would want to jump him immediately.

Not that his fox side would complain about finally hitting it off but Wooyoung wanted to keep some sort of class. At least he tried telling himself that.

Once he reached the music rooms, his pace slowed and he pulled the piece of paper out of his pocket, checking with the scribbles again. No room number. Wooyoung stopped in his tracks and stared along the hallway, seeing at least a handful of closed doors in front of him.

When a door opened out of nowhere, Wooyoung jumped back and hid around the corner. His heart pounded inside of his chest while his ears swivelled around, listening in on the students that came out of the room.

“Thanks Y/N”, a male voice said, spiking Wooyoung’s interest. 

The fox glanced around the corner, seeing a male hybrid - seemingly a canine - standing with his back to Wooyoung and another hybrid in front, bent over.

Wooyoung swallowed harshly, feeling his dick twitch in his sweatpants from that ass hugged tightly in these jeans. 

He only regained some self control again, when the person straightened and turned around - a cute smile displayed on their lips. 

“Really, Y/N, you’re the best!”

Wooyoung frowned, the name feeling familiar, before he raised his hand with the note and read over it again. His eyes widened momentarily while his heartbeat sped up again. So he found the one he was supposed to meet.

His eyes left the piece of paper and focused back on you. His gaze shamelessly roamed over your body and he already started imagining all the things he'd do with you, until his focus landed on your hybrid ears. Wooyoung nearly growled upon seeing the bunny ears, the edges of his mouth twitching into a snarl.

You leaned forward and nuzzled your nose against the other hybrid’s nose with a smile. “Stop flattering me, Jongho. I love to help out.”

Wooyoung had enough, your sweet voice not helping in keeping his disdain for the idea of asking you - a bunny hybrid nonetheless - for help. He was the superior hybrid, he was the fox. You should be cowering in front of him, begging for your life not the other way around.

“Hey, you’ve been out?” Yeosang greeted his friend as he stormed into the apartment, but as soon as he sensed the mood he quickly hid behind the dinner table and kept his distance from Wooyoung.

“Did you really send me to a fucking bunny hybrid?” Wooyoung snarled and slammed his hands on the table, glaring at Yeosang.

“First of all, I did not send you. You went on your own choice.”

Wooyoung growled as a warning for Yeosang to consider his next words.

“Second of all, your pride will bite you in the ass one day.”

This time Wooyoung barked at Yeosang and rounded the table, desperately trying to catch his friend so he could tear him apart. To his dismay Yeosang was faster and slipped into his own room, hiding away from Wooyoung, who then pounded with his fists against the closed door.

“So what if she’s a bunny hybrid? It’s not like you need to become her boyfriend or something. You need a good fuck to become bearable again and as far as the rumours go, bunnies should be perfect for that!”

Wooyoung stopped pounding against the door, considering Yeosang’s word. “Shut up!” He then growled and stormed off into his room, slamming the door behind him.

Inside Wooyoung dropped almost immediately on his bed, turning on his back and staring up at the ceiling. He closed his eyes while his hand wandered down to his cock, leisurely pumping it to relieve some tension. Low groans escaped his lips as he started to imagine not his own hand squeezing him so good.

A sweet voice rang through his mind. “I love to help out.”

Wooyoung groaned again, grabbing himself even tighter and moving his hand faster and faster. He pictured the soft smile and the bunny ears flopping from the rapid movement, feeling his own release closing in.

Until his mind caught on to his thoughts. Wooyoung immediately stopped touching himself, hissing as if he burnt his hand on the stove. Why the hell would he think of a bunny? Why the hell would he get turned on by that? And why the hell couldn’t he get your image, pumping him so eagerly, out of his head? Most importantly though, why did he want to see the real deal doing it?

~~~

“If you don’t get laid by tonight, I will personally fuck you up!” Yunho threatened through Wooyoung’s closed door, finally having had enough with his antics. With no answer to his threat, Yunho groaned in annoyance and walked away, getting a broom to clean up Wooyoung’s tantrum in the kitchen.

While cleaning up the shards, Yunho heard a door open, some rushed footsteps and the front door closing and slamming shut again. A smirk played over his lips and for once he didn’t mind cleaning up after Wooyoung.

Once again Wooyoung found himself hiding behind the corner towards the hall of the music rooms. Once again he saw you exiting a room with some other hybrid. This time it seemed like a squirrel, if that bushy tail was anything to go by.

“You should take it easy with your throat for today”, the squirrel said and placed a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly. “You did amazing though today!”

Wooyoung frowned, feeling somewhat annoyed as he saw you smile and touch your throat with your fingertips, chuckling softly. 

“I’ll do my best, Hongjoong!”

That Hongjoong guy giggled and leaned forward to nuzzle his nose against yours. “I will ask San if you actually even tried!”

You shrugged with your shoulders. “I won’t be at the apartment until later in the evening, so he won’t be a good judge for that. But don’t worry, I’ll be nice today. Tell Seonghwa I said hi.” You waved with your hand and watched Hongjoong walk along the corridor.

Wooyoung stepped out of his hiding spot and walked towards you, eyeing your form again. You hadn’t noticed him yet and Wooyoung used every second he got to look at your ass shamelessly.

You jumped when you turned around and nearly bumped into someone else, quickly stepping back.

“I was told you could help me”, Wooyoung murmured and looked you up and down, a smirk playing over his features.

Realisation dawned on your face and your expression quickly shifted from surprised to understanding and then to resignation. 

Wooyoung noticed how your nose wriggled slightly, knowing his pheromones must be affecting you already.

“Alright”, you mumbled and turned to the open door, walking into the empty music room. You knew of your reputation, knew it stemmed from you being a bunny hybrid and how you mostly kept to yourself and met up with different hybrid breeds every now and then didn’t help to stop the rumours from spreading. Though you never thought someone would actually approach you for that.

Wooyoung closed the door behind him, locking it and then leaning against the wooden surface. He quickly scanned the room, seeing a table with two chairs, a keyboard and a music stand. His fantasy already pictured the possibilities to take you within this space until his eyes landed on your form.

You leaned against the table, one leg crossed over the other, hands beside your hips on the surface and head tilted to one side. 

Wooyoung swallowed harshly. That position highlighted all your feminine features. Legs, he wanted to be wrapped around his torso; hips, he wanted to grab onto while slamming into you; tits, he wanted to bury his face into. 

“So, how are you expecting this to happen?” You asked and switched from one foot to another, trying to dismiss your own nervousness - especially with a fox hybrid, who looked like he wanted to devour you whole, in the same room. You grabbed one of your ears, brushing over the soft fur as a measure to calm yourself.

Your eyes wandered over his features, his sharp cheekbones, his pointed nose and hungry eyes, his incredibly red hair that nearly hid his fox ears. You noticed his simple get up - a white shirt, dark sweatpants and a leather jacket.

“How long have you been in your rut?” You asked and walked over to him, swaying your hips with every step.

Wooyoung shrugged with his shoulders, his eyes trained on your hips. “Dunno. A week?”

You giggled softly and stopped right in front of him. You let go of your ear and let your fingers glide along his chest instead, seeing him shudder from your simple touch. “It must be painful by now, right?”

Wooyoung nodded slowly, entranced with your presence. His eyes followed your fingertips and he wished for nothing else than your fingers to go even lower. He nearly whined when you stepped back and stopped touching him at all.

You knew you shouldn’t give in like that, you knew you should get away to regain a clear head again but your instincts held you in place. So instead of running away and keeping a clean vest, you wanted nothing else than to get railed by this fox hybrid. You bit down on your lower lip as you grabbed the hem of your top and pulled it over your head, leaving you in your bra and skirt.

Wooyoung licked over his lips, watching as you unclasped your bra and let it fall to the ground. His erection pressed against his sweatpants, yearning to be set free but he couldn’t move, frozen in his place while he stared at you.

You smiled and turned around, leaning slightly forward while your hands wandered up your thighs and to your butt, pushing your skirt up until you could hook your thumbs under your panties and wriggle yourself out of them. 

You walked back over to the table and propped yourself on top of it, placing your feet on the surface and sliding them apart to spread your legs. “What’s your move, pretty boy?” You placed one hand on your core and spread your lips apart, dipping a finger into your hole with a soft moan. You pulled your finger out and moved it to your mouth, sucking on your digit. 

You repeated the movement again but before you were able to suck on your finger, Wooyoung stood in front of you, hand wrapped around your wrist. He looked you in the eyes as he moved your hand to his lips and enveloped your finger, tongue swirling around it.

“I want to fuck you. Now.” Wooyoung breathed once he cleaned your finger.

“Then do it”, you teased and wriggled with your hips, getting Wooyoung’s attention back down to your entrance.

He furrowed his brows in concentration, groaning slightly in pain from holding himself back. He had to make things clear before he actually fucked you. “There won’t be any foreplay. Just fucking until I’m spent for the day. I won’t check for any of your needs.” Wooyoung breathed heavily, using the last ounce of self control to look back up at your face. “You understand that, right?”

You rolled your eyes and leaned back on your elbows. “As if a hybrid in a rut would be able to have any control whatsoever”, you laughed dryly, “I know that and I accept that. So, darn it, just fuck me already, pretty boy.”

“Name’s Wooyoung”, the fox hybrid grunted as he discarded his jacket and shirt, smirking upon seeing your aroused reaction. He pushed his sweatpants and boxers down in one swift motion, not even giving you the chance to admire his hard on before he slammed his dick into you.

A high pitched gasp left your mouth from the pleasurable pain Wooyoung inflicted on you. 

He grabbed your hips and pulled you towards the edge of the table, holding you tight and keeping you in place as he continued drilling into you.

You arched your back, ignoring the pain in your elbows and the slight cramp in your leg. There was no way you would stop the fox nor would he be able to stop in the first place. He pounded into you, stroking just the right spots inside. 

Your vision blurred and white spots appeared at the edges of it, all while your lower stomach tightened. 

Wooyoung groaned as he felt your walls clutching tightly around his shaft, making it even harder for him to move. Though he refused to lower his pace, fucking into you with new found determination.

He tipped you over the edge, fucking you through your orgasm. Your legs spasmed and grew limp shortly afterwards. At the same time you lost your strength in your arms. 

You would have fallen on the desk, if Wooyoung hadn’t snaked one arm around your torso and pressed you against himself. His other hand grabbed your thigh to keep your legs spread, nails digging into your skin.

Even after you came down from your high, Wooyoung continued to slam his hips into you. At first you felt a slight discomfort, face twisting slightly, before a new wave of pleasure hit you.

“Shit”, Wooyoung groaned, his hips stuttering slightly in their pace.

You lost track of time and count of your orgasms by now, head somewhat lolling to one side. Still, you asked: “What is it?”

Wooyoung continued to push into you, grunting several times. “I might just cum soon.”

“So?”

“Means I’ll knot”, he grunted through his teeth. 

It took you a moment to understand what that meant. It took you even longer to form some sort of response. “Is okay, you can do that.”

Only seconds after you said it, the base of his dick swelled, spreading your hole almost painfully. You winced and your face twisted in pain. Yet, when you felt his cock twitch inside of you, a moan of pleasure bubbled up in your throat.

Wooyoung stilled, brows furrowed and eyes scrunched up until he spilled every last drop into you. He then carefully lowered your back on the table, resting his head on your chest with a satisfied sigh.

“Feeling better, pretty boy?” You tilted your head a little to get a better view at his face, a smile crossing your lips from his content expression. With a little effort you raised your arm and placed your hand on his hair, playing with it while you waited for his answer.

“Filled you all up”, Wooyoung murmured, his fox tail swishing proudly behind him.

You chuckled softly and closed your eyes, enjoying the nearly intimate moment with him. You only pried your eyes open again, when Wooyoung suddenly started to paw at your breasts, nibbling and licking your skin. “What are you doing, pretty boy?” You chuckled again and scratched the base of his ears, somewhat endeared by the complete turn of his demeanour.

“Wanna fill you up more. Fill you up and see your belly swell with my cups.” He nosed along your skin and even whined when he couldn’t reach your throat and face unless you closed the space. 

You pushed yourself up on your elbows again with a soft smile on your lips. “Such a tame little fox”, you teased and brushed a few strands of hair out of his face, “just needed some pussy to behave again.”

Wooyoung whined and buried his face between your breasts, inhaling your scent deeply. He felt the knot at the base of his dick reducing again but it did nothing against his erection. Slowly Wooyoung pulled out of you, smirking when you whined from the loss. He raised his head and looked up at you with wide eyes and a pout on his lips. “May I?”

You raised an eyebrow and waited for him to clarify his question.

“May I fill you up again?”

© all rights reserved  

Taglist: @xavi-in-kpopland​ @songsoomin​ 

[zilabee]

- The first time I watched Get Back (which is the only other time I've watched Get Back) this was the day where I realised how much a mish mash mess the entire editing of it was, because obviously I know the tapes of day eight much better than the tapes of other days. (on account of it being the day where Paul and John use George as nothing but an excuse to talk about their own broken up feelings and confused affections.)

- Wonderfully, @inspiteallthedanger and @get-back-homeward posted about the cuts and snips in the lunchroom tapes, and how frustrating and impossible it all is, here. So I don't have to kill myself trying to explain how WEIRD the resulting 'conversation' Peter Jackson came up with is. What a strange strange thing he did.

- I'm aware that the art of documentary is cutting bits out, and I know they couldn't put it all in. But I do find it tiring. Even not lunchtime, but all the conversations, all the days. I just want to know what they look like at the appropriate points without having to double guess and think and disregard. We're not allowed that though, until some kind soul steals the full footage and gifts us pure wonder, so unless you can really see their lips move, it's only a mirage.

- But! the full 20 seconds that is given over to watching Paul looking sad where nobody says anything at all is the best 20 seconds Peter Jackson ever spent.

- Paul explaining that obstacles aren't obstacles if you refuse to acknowledge any sadness in your life think about obstacles. I mean he's not untrue, it's not not true, he could make a motivational poster.

- So proud of his terrible news bulletins idea. I actually do think ending a massive spectacular show by having a quiet man come on and quietly announce that you've broken up could be nice though. But really I'm just in love with the fact that instead of worrying about breaking up, Paul has been turning it into a project they can all work on together. (And thinking about how to make it suitably big and show-off break up, because it's the Beatles - I love that he worries about their legacy. George and John are so weighted down by legacy, and Paul's just like 'it's only hard if we don't live up to it, so we should just live up to it'. He's such a lot, but he's true.)

Linda: But you were saying yesterday, you know... you make good music together whether you like it or not. John: I like it. Linda: And making good music is also... John: But it's just... Linda: It's really hard working in a relationship. John: I know.

- I love that they call it feeling guilty about each other.

- I love that when John is talking about how hard it is when Paul won't give in on arrangements, he specifically says that he wants it to work more like it works when they're writing. It soothes me in its easy acknowledgement that the writing is good. (even while he's destroying it I know)

- Paul jokingly saying 'You stay out of this, Yoko' to Linda when she is joining in the conversation is probably one of the first times that joke was made, where it's now a recognisable joke to almost every english speaking person in the world.

- SHUT UP I CANNOT STAND IT. (Literally no idea at what point of the thing I wrote this down but I stand by it.)

- I hope they didn't tell George they only wanted him back as a matter of policy. <333333333

When we're very old we'll all agree with each other and we'll all sing together.

- I love him talking about how it all works better if they sing properly instead of just singing half. I love that they just need to be young again and they're not young, since Brian died they haven't been at all young.

- Love John wanting someone to fact check Paul in case Tucson wasn't actually in Arizona. His surrealism does not stretch to inaccurate geography.

Ringo: The meeting was fine. A lot of good things, but then you know... they all sort of fell apart in the end.

Ringo accidentally writing a perfect little synopsis of the Beatles.

- "I don't feel like the Beatles revolve around the four people. It might be a fucking job." John trying to invent The Plastic Beatles. Or make it a bit like national service for rockstars. Everyone dreading the fucking letter that means they have to leave their families and their homes and their happy bands to go and live in a cauldron with Paul and John for a few months.

MLH: I think at some point we should talk conceptually about the show. Everyone prepares to leave.

[eluxcastar]

lumine x reader?

so this has been sitting in my inbox for months cause I had no idea what to do for it but then I suddenly had an idea so now you can be fed. if you send requests this vague btw it will take me ages unless I use you an an excuse to write about a character I want to anyway

But ig I finally have at least a thought?? I was given two words and a letter ok and this thought didn't really marinate in my head but actually I think I could possibly make something of this if I had more ideas so feel free to drop those if you have any

I have this thought about Lumine, something like a headcanon every since I heard her voice actress sing I Remember You that Lumine may have at one point performed at Angel's Share in exchange for money or information or such, having many rather enjoy her voice though you want to know a little too much about her - all innocent curiosity of course.

You started off with simply musical things, where she learned to sing and such all spiralling into several beers worth of questions and both of your life stories told as she recounts some of the world's she's been to before this one to you. It was not what you anticipated or even though you would find interesting but hearing of Lumine's struggles to find her brother and her travels across Teyvat to do so strikes a chord in you, her singing only making it better as you find her voice quite beautiful to begin with and a few too many beers too drunk you're a little past your senses to think of that feeling of admiration for her determination as anything other than love. In that moment you would be willing to hopelessly devote yourself to this woman even knowing she will likely move on to the next world once she is finished here just as she has time and time again

When you're sober again you realise all the flaws in this plan of yours to follow her across Teyvat in order to win her heart back, but with a vow to do so already made there is little room to turn back without ruining your chances altogether, so you pack up your things and with little attachment to the place you were merely visiting in the first place, set out from Mondstadt to begin the next objective of your own travels

[englishstrawbie]

2/3 The second one is for Dani and Gigi (may they RIP 😭). It's from Ps. I'm Still Not Over You by Rihanna, which is a bit of an odd choice (for me) as this isn't exactly my kind of music, but it seems fitting in quite some ways and - hopefully - offers you some nice, creative playground. Here are the lines:

Don't you know I've tried and I've tried To get you out my mind But it don't get no better As each day goes by And I'm lost and confused I've got nothin' to lose Hope to hear from you soon P.S. I'm still not over you

As I'm on to the third and last one (for now?! 😜): thanks again!

It has taken me longer than I should admit to write these 800 words. 😂 I wanted this to feel organic and real, and stay true to the character. Hopefully I've done that. Thanks for the prompt, I hope you like it!

A link to the song

>>>>>

She finds the key in the bottom of her bag as she is looking for her phone. It must have fallen off her key chain at some point and she hadn’t noticed – but why would she? She hasn’t needed it for almost four months.

Gigi turns the piece of metal over in her hand, surprised when her breath suddenly hitches in her throat and her eyes fill with tears. She thought she was done crying over Dani Nùñez, but her mind betrays her with memories of all the times she turned this key in the lock to find her happy life waiting for her: of Dani sat at the table in front of her laptop, air buds in her ears and talking non-stop down her phone; or lazing on the couch, a glass of wine in hand and music playing quietly in the background; or emerging from the bedroom, draped in nothing but a silk robe and enticing her to bed before Gigi had chance to slip out of her heels.  

Dani hadn’t even given her the chance to explain, determined to believe that the life they had built over the course of a year was over. For a while, Gigi had believed it too – confused about everything she had been feeling after the accident. But as the haze in her mind had cleared, and her injuries had healed, Gigi had realised that seeing Nat with their two children as the pick-up truck had hit her wasn’t a sign that she was still in love with her ex-wife. It was fear that life was about to be ripped from her, a life that revolved around the two tiny humans she was proud to call hers; and where there is Olive and Eli, there is Nat. That’s just the way it is.

But she doesn’t love Nat. She hasn’t loved Nat for a long time. Leaning on her as she was convalescing wasn’t out of need or want; it was protection.

Looking back, Gigi can see the imbalance in her relationship with Dani – she was always the strong one, the one Dani would lean on, sharing her words of wisdom whenever Dani felt her armour cracking. All of a sudden, Gigi was the one who needed someone to care for her and hold her as she pieced herself back together after the accident. She was scared to do that with Dani, scared to let the younger woman see her physical and mental scars, scared to let her know about the nightmares that filled what used to be sweet dreams. She didn’t know how to let Dani into a world where she was the vulnerable one.

And then suddenly it was too late, and Dani was throwing oranges at Nat’s car and ignoring her calls and packing up the things Gigi had left at her apartment, sending them back without even a note.

Gigi puts the key back onto her key chain and grabs her phone, scrolling through her messages until she finds Dani’s name. Her fingers hover for a moment, before she quickly writes ‘I miss you’ and hits send before she can change her mind.

She doesn’t expect a reply. After all, Dani has replied to any of the last twenty messages she has sent her. So she is taken aback when she sees three dots flashing back at her.

‘I miss you too.’

It is more than she has got over the last four months and feels like the door has been cracked open just a little bit.

‘Can we talk?’

Gigi holds her breath as she waits for Dani’s response.

‘I can’t. It’s too hard.’

‘Please? There’s so much I want to explain.’

Dani is slower with her reply this time.

‘I can’t listen to you tell me about you and Nat. I need to move on and you need to let me.’

Gigi sighs. One thing she knows about Dani is that once she has an idea in her head, it needs banging out of her.

‘There is no me and Nat. She’s my ex-wife and the other mother to my kids, that’s all. I know that telling you about what I saw when the car hit me was hard to hear, but I also told you I needed time to figure out what it meant – and I did. I want you to understand it too.’

Before Dani can reply, she sends another message.

‘I love you. I’m not ready to give up on us.’

She watches as the three dots flash, then sighs dramatically when they disappear. She tosses her phone down onto the table despondently and drops her head into her hands, massaging her temples to ease the headache that is growing. She only looks up when her phone starts to ring, a familiar face staring up at her. Her heart starts to beat faster and, with a deep breath, she hits the green button.

“Daniela.”

[amurderof-crows]

Tracklist Breakdown #1

One of the central motifs in I Can Always Hear You Sing (available to read here) is music; it's hugely important in the lives of the characters and in the structure of the work itself. Every chapter is named after a song that relates to the events of the chapter, and is preceded with some lyrics from that song that say a lot about what's to come.

I'd thought I'd do a breakdown of why I've chosen the songs and the lyrics that I have. Because I'm definitely 110% normal and sane about this (this is a lie, I got my autism diagnosis 2 days ago).

This will contain spoilers for the story so maybe read that first. Now without further ado...

Track 0: Nostalgia

Track 0: Nostalgia - Suki Waterhouse

I just need to know that you are happy So if it couldn't be me, then go ahead, forget me I traced my steps back to where we first met And hold the memory 'til you slip away I talk about the past like I talk about you I leave out every little thing that I don't like remembering I miss you more than I say I do You had to follow all your dreams, just wish that they included me

Track 0 is a short prologue, set further down the timeline than the opening events of the story. It gives a glimpse into Amara seeing that Kace's band, Vengeful Glory, are returning to their home town to play a gig and her realisation that she wants to see him.

The lyrics above are the ones I chose to preface this chapter, from the song Nostalgia (Suki Waterhouse), which is an absolutely gorgeous track if you haven't listened to it.

At that point in the timeline, Amara is realising that she doesn't want things between her and Kace to end how they did back when they last saw each other. That they want to at least try to be friends with him, if that's what he wants to. Amara very much wants to take the final steps towards healing after the trauma of their initial break up, to share with him why she did what she did, to give them both closure. And if they can't be anything else, then at least they can leave in peace?

(editor's note: that's a real fancy way of saying this a soulmate AU)

Although the prologue is told from Amara's perspective, the song is a reflection of both of them in that moment. Kace has always been haunted by Amara's decision and not knowing why she decided to end it. Despite healing from that break up and moving on the best he could, for Kace, the words I love you have never felt quite the same since her. He definitely doesn't think about anymore, especially not when he's writing songs

(this man is a simp and is definitely still thinking about her)

The lines from that little section that I think resonate for them both are

I miss you more than I say I do You had to follow all your dreams, just wish that they included me

All they wanted was to build a life with each other. But they were ripped apart by a history of trauma, their own internal struggles, and the people around them. That has kept them apart for so long and this moment is them both tuning into what their hearts want, admitting what they haven't been able to. It's an impulsive cry for love, for the person that they connected with in a way that they have never felt again.

It is also major foreshadowing because they reunite in the same gig venue (The Bridge) that the beginning of their breakup happened in.

I traced my steps back to where we first met And hold the memory 'til you slip away

(editor's note: it's a whole cyclical structure, this moment foreshadows so much)

This song, as a prologue, establishes their need for closure from what happened, and how they will always be drawn back together.

↠ⁿᵉˣᵗ ˢᵒⁿᵍ ↺ ʳᵉᵖᵉᵃᵗ ⊜ ᵖᵃᵘˢᵉ

[eldritchships]

this is ur invitation to talk abt gravesly !!

THANK YOU I love you /p

So basic rundown on Gravesly, he's a Chain Chomp knight who works for Bowser. He's very dedicated, stoic*, and spends a lot of his time either working or training, because being a knight has been his life's dream. I've spoken about him a lot but I figure it's good to cover the basics in case anyone hasn't heard about him yet.

*Gravesly's a humanoid, so all of his Chain Chomp traits came from a magical spell gone awry. So even though he is stoic, if put under enough strain, his temper can get the best of him and he starts baring fangs and barking and acts more erratically. Kind of a werewolf situation, I guess, but with a Mario Bros coat of paint over it. The visor comes up on his helmet and all you can see is sharp, pointy teeth, face completely disappeared. I think it'd be a running gag that most of his outfits (E.g. for the sports spinoffs or even just casualwear) have a hood or something, if not still wearing the helmet even with normal clothes, so the Chomp teeth are still able to appear the same way.

Gravesly has probably met most of the important characters by now, Mario, Luigi, Peach etc. Gravesly's relationship with Peach is complicated. He is originally from the Mushroom Kingdom, so he was on the path to one day become a knight for her. When Gravesly got back following the accident (the aforementioned magical mishap), Peach never visited him, and he left the next day before she could do so. Which is of course Gravesly's perspective of how things went, a bit of an unreliable narrator. There's also the whole thing about, y'know, Bowser continuously trying to kidnap and/or marry her, which does cause Gravesly to feel some doubt about his own feelings for Bowser. At some point I think I'd like to write Gravesly and Peach having a proper conversation, after everything that's happened.

Here's everything I had figured out ages ago for a Gravesly boss fight. I don't have a good pick for his boss theme yet but I've described it as 'DOOM soundtrack if it were made for a Mario game'

Also I forgot I had this gif saved but I imagine if Gravesly did get aggro without his helmet on it'd look something like this ⬇️

Alright, going into Mario movie stuff so under the cut in case anyone's avoiding spoilers

I think Movie!Gravesly is just about the same, everything still works within the little changes they made in the movie's canon. There's three scenes from the movie I can specifically see Gravesly being featured in:

The party with all of Bowser's troops. He's off to the side, not really partying. He's not much of a party or music guy, which is way funnier with "Jam with me" movie Bowser.

I don't usually super-impose my OCs over other characters in a scene, just because I prefer making them work on their own within the plot, but what if. What if Gravesly's the one Bowser practices his proposal on instead of Kamek. Yes he is wearing the dress and wig over the suit of armour. (This might also be when Gravesly starts realising some things about himself and his feelings towards his boss 👀)

Then of course Gravesly's at the wedding. Once again keeping to himself, possibly still dealing with whatever emotions he felt earlier. Because he is very combat trained, he is likely one of the first to get frozen, if only so there doesn't have to be a drawn-out fight scene.

[vegancas]

it was already like 4 days ago but i had such a fun time at atl/mayday parade!!

i lined up early to get a good spot cos i was expecting like a line, like for there to actually be a line, but when i got there i was only the 12th person??? tbf there were over a 100 people doing vip apparently so without a lot of them in our ga line there was obviously a lot fewer ppl, but still!

unfortunately it was warmer than i was expecting and i ended up getting a bit sun burnt :( mostly on my nose, brow, upper lip, and hands. nose was the worst! still a bit ouchy, or maybe hands were worst in that i got burned in the same areas as my dermatitis which is a bad combo! they're mostly okay now but my face still hurts a bit. but anyway! i didn't realise i'd got burned until after the show was over when we went into the bathroom so it was too late to do anything about it :/

but again, anyway! my sister and her friend joined me in line a couple hours after i got there so i hung out with some other ppl waiting. my sister said she doesn't like having to line up early but i like it! it's part of the experience to me! but maybe also because i don't have anyone to go to shows with besides her so i like getting to hang out with ppl??? it's nice to just get know ppl a little! and they're like my kinda ppl too i guess because we like similar music!! hard to find that in everyday life

it was a very orderly line though, like we didn't stay in a line, the people who got there first (at like 5am!) numbered everyone with a sharpie, which is like sure it's not official as my sister loved to point out, but it did make everything more chill. they number over 70 ppl before it got too much to keep track of, and then when it was close to doors everyone just lined up basically in order!? it was surprising but nice to see!

anyway, when we actually got into the show! we ended up second row behind some ppl who did vip and some who were ahead of us in line. i can't say it was the best spot but like that's closer than i've ever been to the front when seeing atl before so! i just wish the base of the barricade went a little further back? like it's so hard to jump up and down on an uneven surface!!!

mayday parade were soooooo good as always!! they played a lot of older stuff, like their classic best stuff, the stuff ppl know the words to and we can all sing together!! i wish their set had been longer!!! i mean i guess they were on for nearly 50 minutes? but still!!!

atl also were obviously great too!! we sung happy birthday to some guy? (idk? he was playing a keyboard or something?) 3 times lmao, and alex jack and the bday guy (plus someone in the crowd) all did shoeys (from their own shoes!! not like josh from ymas who used an audience member's lol). it was such a messy show, but like in a good way!! i DO want to see bands having fun together and chatting with us and that kinda thing, like alex was being so silly!!

i was also in the absolute perfect position that when jack threw up his first guitar pick, no one had no idea where it was going, including me, but it hit me right in the middle of the chest lmao. got to pick it up right off the floor cos no one knew it had hit me so no one was looking for it!! third time i've managed to get a pick like that, although first time actually getting hit by it lol

feel like there might have been more i wanted to write about but i can't remember now! oh well. it was a fun night anyway!! would add photos or something but i'm not on my phone so maybe some other time

oh but they played new religion!!! i was so excited when they played it!!!! actually they played two songs i didn't know, i guess their new one with avril lavigne that i haven't heard and some other one??? gonna have to look that up at some point i guess

[vatt-world]

save the cat

On the verge of losing her last client due to a botched case, a dispirited Harlem Detective discovers her beloved brother has gone missing and must partner with her resentful ex-partner to find him, but when she gets in over her head with the search and is pushed to her physical and mental limits, she must tap into her brother’s teachings and learn to believe in herself once again in order to solve the most important case of her career - her brother’s disappearance. On the verge of a brutal descent to Earth to retrieve the corrupt angel who betrayed her and fled before standing trail, a hesitant & betrayed warrior angel loses her memory in the descent and now must rely on the help of a quirky, broken family to quickly find out who she is as well as her assignment before her betrayer takes advantage of her memory loss and steals her strength and powers to use to control the world.

13 stories campbell

These loglines are more like general descriptions, rather than following the template I showed in class. I attach it here. You want to give more specifics, a sense of a journey that the character takes.

So for your first one, we need more than "struggling" to get to know your main character. You give us some hints about what she is struggling with later, but no idea of how the story will lead her to overcome these struggles, and what she will win by doing so.

So if you had say a incredibly talented by deeply insecure actor gets a life changing part, but the day before shooting her an ex-boyfriend wants her back, a jealous friend tries to sabotage her, and her mother threatens to disown her, and she must somehow find the courage to believe in herself and pursue what matters to her, that give us more an idea of what will actually happen in the story.

A logline actually mirrors three act structure - there is a world to start, something happens to change that world, then the struggle is resolved Try to get that into your logline.

Hope that helps!

On the verge of returning home after another routine mission, a former Army Ranger who is now a nurse, a healer, responds to a humanitarian crisis where he learns ISIS has planted several sleeper agents who will activate in the US to bomb several airpots. He must learn to trust a former combatant turned interpreter, to understand and defeat the terrorist sleeper cells.

vincent .. demons plant the journey invest in the character

on the verge of getting cast in a star making role ,just day before the final audition/interview, Vincent is pushed to breaking point by his acting coach,an ex girlfriend who wants him back, a jealous friend who wants the role for himself,an overbearing parent he must somehow believe in himself and pursue the dream without breaking down. its scaffolding thesis - he is from alien world

fun and games can change without changing rest u can ask someone to write fun and games or final resolution clare and sun book sea of black.. he comes in army uniform godfather catalyst - really bad news ..he gets shot debate- mike is not part family business am i part of family or not girlfriend /touring..facility he checks himself in - break into 2 visits father ..moves his father break into 2 connie and carly b story his relationship with guy who runs of place

total resistance promise midpoint -- all in/false victory clossal link but link when he is with little boy is mid point his wife gets killed his son gets killed all is lost -- when don dies..funeral.. he is kicked out of home… his girlfriend makes music -- all is lost dark night of soul -- she is choosing .. until she realises … i choose terrible men .. she must realise he goes to rescue her .. she is singing .. she is fine.. break into three - baptism scene she kills five heads of black sheep becomes king

they are finally alone.. its ok .. u saved my life

finale new boss worst then old boss no matter what ppl say.. they r defined by actions opening image closing image break into two-- first steps in

Opening image :Vincent is struggling director. Vincent 's dream sequence of winning award as Director

break into two:Vincent's best friend , struggling director dies, Vincent decides its now or never.Vincent gets funding to make movie.he goes to someone who never he met

Closing image: Vincent gets nominated for Gloden Globes..

[lostelfwriting]

Chapter XVIII – all the reasons why I shouldn’t love you and why I do

[Read on AO3]

Dream doesn’t know how it happens. One day, he realises that visiting Hob and having a small chat is a solid part of his day. Usually, it only lasts until Hob needs to start attending his customers. Often, one of his siblings accompany Dream on the way there or home, spending some time with him watching movies, listening to music, or simply watching him paint. At what feels like the last minute, he begins writing a short book.

One day in late September, Dream gets a bad fit while sitting outside. By now, he can recognise the precise moment when the disease decides to get worse, and that moment is now. He rushes to Hob’s private bathroom, which sees him much more often than it sees the owner of the building, and tries to cough, but his throat feels full, and the obstruction is not moving.

After what feels like a minute without pulling in a breath, Hob rushes in, muttering that he didn’t like the silence before he whacks Dream on his back so hard that he almost plants his face into the toilet. The impact helps, and he finally coughs, followed by pulling in shallow breaths and coughing more and more. He hears Hob leave the bathroom in order to give him privacy. He is grateful for that, but it leaves him alone when the thing finally comes out.

He has to grab it and pull, causing tiny lacerations in his throat as the sharp leaves of a rose plant drag along the sensitive tissue. When he holds the thing up to his tear-filled eyes, gasping and exhausted, he recognises a fully formed leaf branch. The next step is full flowers and stems. And then, only death.

For many, this is the last part of the disease they get to see.

There is no point in trying to clear himself up, but Dream tries anyway, for the sake of Hob’s customers. When he staggers out of the bathroom, he is still deathly pale and trembling. He’s taken to using a cane for walking long ago, but it is almost not enough to support him now. As soon as he sees him, Hob helps him sit down in a chair by the cash register – the closest solid surface.

“What was it?” Hob asks nervously.

“A leaf branch,” Dream says. His voice is so hoarse that he’s surprised that Hob got it on the first attempt.

“That’s…” Hob takes a deep breath. “That’s still early late stage,” he assures Dream. “It wasn’t a stem, right? You haven’t been coughing up blossoms or flowers?”

“No,” Dream shakes his head. He wants to say that Hob doesn’t need to feed him white lies, that he knows well how the disease works. But then he realises that he doesn’t know why Hob knows so much about it. He asks him about it, and Hob’s face pales a little.

“My aunt died of the Hanahaki Disease,” he says in way of explanation. He looks down, presumably in grief, and shuffles his foot on the floor. The polite ‘I’m so sorry for your loss’ is on the tip of Dream’s tongue when Hob suddenly speaks up again. “And my, my little sister. She had it too. The, uhm, the aggressive form.”

One in ten thousand cases. The statistic pops into Dream’s head unprompted, and he hates his past self for reading all those articles. “I’m sorry,” he says quietly.

Hob shrugs. “Maybe that is the reason why I’m trying to help. You see, I… I didn’t even get the chance to say goodbye. I was in college when it started, and they didn’t tell me. They thought she had months, and I only had one month of my term left. The whole family has worked hard to put me through college, so they didn’t want to ruin it.” He begins to tidy up his workplace, needing something to do with his hands as he talks.

“The doctors noticed the tiny leaves in her lungs, but they assumed she was just lying about when the disease begun. They thought she still had time.” Wiping his nose with the back of his hand, he seems to have an internal fight, but then he continues. “Then one day, she didn’t wake up. Mom says… She says that Peggy’s bed was covered in the most beautiful apple blossoms that she’s ever seen. The room smelled like an orchard, not like death.” He blows out a long breath and looks at Dream again. “When I see you and your older sister… I, I want your loved ones to have a chance to say goodbye.”

Dream nods, remaining silent for a while to pay respect. Then he begins, quietly at first, as if he doesn’t want to chase away the ghosts. “My siblings would agree, yet I would feel better if they didn’t know about my illness. It has caused them a lot of pain, especially knowing that I don’t have a chance, and that I’ve refused to get the surgery.”

“I get that,” Hob nods. “I don’t think I could live with myself if the surgery left me bed-bound or simply unable to work. I’d feel so useless. I wouldn’t want that. But I’m not like you.”

“In what way?”

“You didn’t tell them – your person, I mean – did you?” Hob looks at him, his eyes full with a little more light than moments ago. It is obvious that he’s been curious about this for a while now.

“No,” Dream shakes his head, only internally laughing at the irony of talking about this with Hob. “I consider it immoral. Teleute, on the other hand, thinks I’m stupid. But I wouldn’t want to burden them with the knowledge.”

“That’s where we’re different,” Hob shakes his head with a huff. “I’d do anything. I’m not a good person, you know. If I felt like I would have even the slightest chance to save my life, I’d tell them, morality be damned.”

“You aren’t a bad person, Robert Gadling,” Dream argues. “You might be one of the best people I know. You’re the personification of light—” Why shouldn’t he say it? He’s dying, after all, and he has promised to live. “And in another universe, perhaps, I think we could have been friends.”

There is something heavy in Hob’s expression now, making Dream worry that he’s overstepped. But Hob nods. “Yeah,” he agrees. “We could.”

+*+*+*+*+

Bury Me with a Rose, We Both Have Thorns (Prologue)

Rating: Explicit

AO3 Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Death & Dream, Dream & Hob, Dream/Hob Gadling

Characters: Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Death of the Endless, Hob Gadling, Jessamy, Matthew, Corinthian, Lucienne

Additional Tags: NO Major Character Death, Hanahaki Disease, Terminal Illnesses, Thoughts about death and dying, Decaying Health, Refusing Treatment, Strong Language, Unrequited Love, Enemies to ?, Past Minor Characters Death(s), Protective Death of the Endless, Doctor Human!Death of the Endless, Alternate Universe - Human, Tattoo Artist Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Flower Shop Owner Hob Gadling, Blood, Angst with a Happy Ending

Word count: 32k

I'm posting the whole work here on the 1st of March, but I strongly reccommend you read it on AO3, where I will be posting one chapter per day. Either way, click Read More or go to AO3 to read the Prologue!

Written for the event @the-centennial-husbands-bigbang. With beautiful art by @five-and-dimes!

It is a slow day at the studio, so while he is waiting for his next appointment, Dream is – like he does almost all of his free time – sketching new tattoo designs to add to his portfolio and listening to music loud enough to completely shut out his own thoughts. He is sketching a snake, having no doubt that it will catch someone’s eye. There is always someone who wants a tattoo of a snake. He pauses to look at his progress and ends up snorting in disbelief.

The drawing is truly a snake, but the reptile is weaving among the stems of flowers instead of a dead branch like Dream had intended. And they are ugly flowers at that. He is pretty sure that he gave a pot of those flowers to his secondary school teacher, who always called him Murphy, even though he hated that nickname. He can’t resist snapping a picture of the flowers with his phone and trying to look up what they are, but once he finds the name – cyclamen – he refuses to look up their meaning. It would surely be something stupid, like forbidden love, or maybe hopelessness.

Even the snake’s scales seem to actually be made of flower petals, and Dream rolls his eyes as he flips the page of his sketchbook. The downside to trying to tune his mind out is that he doesn’t notice when his subconsciousness begins to interfere with his process, and it has led to many flowery paintings in the past months. With a sigh, he starts copying the usable parts of the design onto another page until an insistent thought makes him pause mid-movement.

Just a few weeks ago, he would have been furious if this had happened. He used to tear those ruined sketches to pieces and then go outside into the late winter chill and glare at every passing person who dared to look his way. He wished they all felt as bad as he did, and most of all, his neighbour with his shop opposite Dream’s studio, with its bright, flowery logo.

Today’s drawing incident feels like just a small inconvenience. He feels zero anger, though he might still opt to destroy the sketch later, just for the miniscule satisfaction that the action will bring him. Or maybe he will keep it. Pin it to the wall next to his bed and look at it every night. He will look at the ugly flowers and realise with wry amusement and aching hollowness that he has finally accepted his fate.

He, Morpheus Endeles, is going to die.

He thinks about it and waits for anger or grief to appear, but they don’t. Good. He was getting sick of the self-pity. It has been months since he noticed the first symptom – the occasional cough – as something seemed to tickle his throat, easily blamed on a bit of dust. And then, a bit later, when he lay awake late at night and everything around him was quiet, he heard the soft rustle of leaves as he breathed. He didn’t need a doctor to tell him that he had the Hanahaki Disease. He tears the ruined sketch out and shreds it into tiny pieces, enjoying the bit of satisfaction that it brings him. Maybe he is still harbouring some badly suppressed anger. He doesn’t need a fortune teller to tell him that he has no chance of getting affection from the person he hopelessly loves. Because it is his neighbour, the owner of The White Rose, Robert Gadling, a straight man who rightfully dislikes Dream.

+*+*+*+*+

Cyclamen: resignation and good-bye