#but I had the concept for this less than 48 hours before I finished the final drawing

[wolfoftonight]

Turtle pile!!!!

Character credits: Lark, Lockdown, Magpie, Kafka, Bee, Jasper, R, Mazie, Human, Onyx, Creative belonging to the Creative Bunch, Pao belonging to Glowbug, Argo belonging to Kangie, and Verne belonging to Jules.

[outro-jo]

skz pushing you away

pairing: skz x reader

type: scenario

warnings: poor communication and relationship dynamics (serious red flags), angst?, idk of anything else

request: sorta

a/n: so the original concept presented was if w skz rejected your affections, it upset you and you left but as per usual i took ✨creative liberties✨ please read info before requesting

masterlist | info

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chan- chris was the one that invited you to the studio but he didn’t realize just how stressed he was. you arrived with food and kisses but he immediately shrugged both off with a slight edge in his voice as he told you that he had to get this done. you maintained your peppy demeanor as you took a seat on the sofa and were happy just to scroll through you phone and be with him. felix has popped a head in to talk to chris but actually struck up a conversation with you as soon as he noticed you on the couch. more uptight than even he expected chris suddenly snapped. “look, i have to finish our fucking album in less than 48 hours! can you two take this somewhere else?!” you and felix stared at each other wide eyed for a minute before sheepishly following each other out of the room. the two of you kept talking like nothing happened. the pressure rarely gets to your boyfriend like this and while he does get upset at times, he’s never yelled at either of you like that. just this once, you both were willing to give him a pass. what you didn’t realize was how long you had been out there talking when chris suddenly ran out of the room. he almost fell over in relief when he saw the two of you still in the hallway. “oh, thank god you’re both here. i really need to apologize. i shouldn’t have snapped like that. it was awful of m—“ “chris, baby, we’re fine. i promise we’re not upset.” you reassured him. “yeah, mate, i know if it wasn’t for you this album wouldn’t be finished. no harm done. all good, cuz.” felix chimed in, hugging his hyung then you before saying his goodbyes. when you were alone again, chris caressed your cheek, stroking it with his thumb and rested his forehead on yours. “don’t ever let me speak to you like that again. wack me on the head real good, yeah?” he breathed out a chuckle. “oh, i won’t but i know you won’t do it again. gave you a good scare, huh?” you giggled at his reaction earlier. chris let out a laugh at himself and wrapped his arm around your shoulder to lead you back to the studio. “yeah, i really panicked there for a minute. i thought you’d really gone.” “nah, you can’t get rid of me. you can make it up to me with cuddles though.” you teased him. “oh, i absolutely will. just let me finish this up.” he nodded towards the set up. “take your time. i’ll be right here, love.”

lee know- your boyfriend was not someone to be messed with when he was angry and he was currently in one of the biggest arguments he’d ever had with one of the other members. the others were calling it nuclear and unfortunately none of them had given you a warning. when he came home, still fuming, you excitedly rushed up to him like you usually do, peppering his face with kisses until he threw you off. “god! i can’t have any fucking space!” minho snapped before storming back into the bedroom, leaving you teary eyed on the floor. never had you seen him like this and never had he treated you like that before. he loved your kisses, cuddles, and hugs even on his worst day. it left you confused and emotional to say the least. so you pulled on your jacket and shoes, leaving before he could come out, possibly hurting you again. if it’s space he wanted, it’s space he would get. you didn’t really know where you were going and you didn’t even grab your wallet or cell phone. tears blurred your vision as you walked around the city streets. by accident you’d grabbed your boyfriend’s jacket and when you reached into the pocket finding a little cash so you went into the convenience store to get yourself a snack to make yourself feel better. it was the least he could do after all and if he made a big deal about it, you can always pay him back. you took your treat and walked over to the playground nearby, enjoying it on the swing. the sky above you got darker and after some time you figured you should face the music at home. opening the door, you braced yourself for angry minho but were met with broken minho. he looked up at you from the couch, eyes glazed over with tears as he quickly got up, pulling you into his arms. “i’m sorry, baby. i’m so sorry.” he repeated over and over. your body was stiff against him in shock. “minho, what happened? what’s going on?” “i tried calling and texting you. i should have never done that to you.” he pulled back quickly, inspecting all over your body. “did i hurt you? do you have any bruises?” “probably my bum.” you pushed him off you and made your way to the couch. minho stood there dejected, shoulders slumping. “i probably deserved that” he mumbled. “yeah… a little.” you sighed, trying not to punish him too much. “babe, come talk to me. why were you so upset?” you pat the space on the sofa next to you. soon minho laid with his head in your lap telling you everything about the argument he’d had earlier and the two of you found a solution. he spent the rest of the night apologizing and making it up to you.

changbin- binnie was really bad at communicating.  lately he was overwhelmed with work and didn’t really know how to tell you that he was going on tour so he just kinda distanced himself. you noticed he was staying at the dorms more and when he was around he wasn’t as receptive to you affections as he usually was. at first you didn’t think much of it and to compensate for him pulling away, you started doing the most. you had food delivered to the dorms just to get a “thanks” text in return. you ordered the exercise equipment he was looking at online and all he did was kiss your temple. the final straw was when you actually went over to the dorms to cook them all dinner and watch a movie. changbin was feeling like absolute garbage by now for how you were treating him like a prince but he kept pushing you away. he was almost in tears and when the movie started, you happily cuddled into him, laying you head on his chest. he could have cracked right then, but instead he held it together and just moved you off him. the gesture was enough to have you snap… in front of everyone. “THAT’S IT SEO CHANGBIN! JUST TELL ME YOU DON’T LOVE ME! BREAK UP WITH ME, SCREAM AT ME, ANYTHING! ANYTHING IS BETTER THAN HAVE YOU DO THIS TO ME! I CAN’T DO IT ANYMORE!” once that was out of your system, you rushed from the dorm in tears. the boys all exchanged looks before checking on the group mate on the sofa. “i messed up.” he finally whispered as tears formed in his eyes. the boys gathered around him to love him as he finally broke down, chan offering encouragement and advice. you had rushed off without your things but it didn’t matter until you got to your apartment and couldn’t get in. so you sat outside the door and just cried. the gravity of what just happened hit changbin and he called you to try and fix things. your ringtone started playing. changbin grabbed your stuff scattered around the dorm and ran all the way to your apartment. he found you slumped against the door sound asleep from crying and it broke his heart. you woke up in his arms as he carried you to your bed. “binnie?” you asked groggily. “please don’t leave me. i have no right to ask that if you but i can’t lose you.” he whispered as his bottom lip trembled. “i thought you didn’t want to be with me.” you said confused. changbin held you close and finally told you what had been on his mind over the last few weeks. you promised not to leave him as long as he promised to never shut you out like that again. 

hyunjin- poor boy, he’s just been so overwhelmed lately. he’s had a lot of opportunities arise lately and a comeback and tour and while he’s excited about all of it, there’s just so much piling up. hyunjin is the type of person that little things he’ll make a big deal about, sometimes because it’s just funny and he has a reaction to it. however, the larger, deeper issues he internalizes mostly to do with him processing. it takes him a while for him to come to anyone unless he’s very close to them. early on in your relationship he would hardly talk to you about some of the bigger things in life bothering him and would opt to go to minho or chan just because he’s known them longer. since he’s internalizing so much it’s been harder for him to be more affectionate with you. he’s not thinking too well and he’s just finding ways to distract himself to cope, meaning he’s less receptive when you try to be affectionate with him. annoyingly for you, he doesn’t realize he’s doing it. when you come home from work that evening, you find him on the sofa mindlessly scrolling through his phone. you offer him a cheerful, loving greeting and only get a mumbled, half-hearted response in return. that didn’t even bother you, what did was when you joined him on the couch and cuddled into his side, hyunjin immediately got up and walked to the kitchen, letting you fall to the wayside. he didn’t even bother to look up from his phone. it hurt. the pain stung in your chest, knocking the wind out of your stomach and bringing tears to your eyes. without a word, you got up and put your shoes back on. just as quick as you finally got home after a long day of work you were once again out the door. you called one of your best friends and asked if they wanted to go somewhere to eat and talk. hearing the emotion in your voice they agreed and met you. they let you vent the whole time, letting you cry and offering you support. before you knew it, the two of you had been talking up until the restaurant was closing and decided it was time for you to part ways for the night. on your way back to the apartment you noticed that you had several missed calls and texts from hyunjin. still hurt by his actions, you decided not to look at any of the messages and just talk when you got home figuring it would be ok if he sweat a bit more. boy, were you wrong. upon entering the apartment again you were met with a distraught hyunjin crashing into you. “baby, i’m so sorry! i’m so glad you’re ok!” he cried into your shoulder. “hyunjin, wha—?” you were stunned and slowly reached a hand up to stroke the back of his head. guilt started to bubble up for making him worry so much. “i’m sorry, baby, i’ve just been so overwhelmed. i didn’t mean to push you away. please don’t leave me!” he begged as he sobbed. your heart ached in your chest at his pain. he’s been holding in so much and you didn’t really have any idea. “hyune… baby, i’m not going anywhere i promise. just please talk to me, yeah? i just wanna be there for you.” you tucked your chin into him and whispered softly before placing a kiss to his head. “c’mon, love, let’s get some rest.” you led him to the bedroom where he laid on your chest and shared everything he’d kept hidden in his mind. 

han- in his mind it was a joke. he was goofing off and playing around each time you leaned in for a kiss, pulling back or dodging him. jisung was a sucker for any form of attention he got from you but today he was just more in a playful mood. what you hadn’t talked about yet was how awful work had been. it was probably one of the worst days you’d had in a while and you were barely holding it together simply because you were with him at the dorms. you’d gotten the message at work and from that moment you’d been looking forward to just snuggling up in his arms and watching a movie together to forget how terrible your day had been. but jisung insisted on messing around just to be funny and making some of the guys laugh, well, some of them. felix has been noticing things from the kitchen and told jisung to cut it out but he didn’t listen, thinking his dongsaeng was just trying to ruin his fun. it was not longer fun for anyone when after he had done it one last time you got up, grabbed your shoes and bag, and stormed out of the dorms. the only one that saw your tears as you left was felix. “hyung… they were crying.” he said softly. jisung’s eyes went wide, “what?!? crying? i was just kidding around!” chan put a hand on the younger’s shoulder and tried to offer some perspective. “they did seem a little upset when they came in. do you know how their work day was?” he asked. “well, not really. when they texted they said they really could use a movie night. i was trying to keep things fun and make them laugh.” “they weren’t really laughing.” felix reminded him gently. after a few seconds of thought, jisung scrambled from his seat before running out the door. soon he was at your apartment, pounding on the door and begging to be let in. “baby, it’s me! please, i was so stupid! i’m so sorry! just let me in!” he pleaded. you cracked the door just enough. jisung could see your eyes were bloodshot and cheeks tear stained. “jisung, just go back to the dorms, ok. i had a really bad day and i’m just not in the mood.” “i’m sorry, baby. i wasn’t thinking.” he apologized again. you suddenly teared up again, “all i wanted to do was cuddle you.” jisung’s heart cracked. “awe, no, baby! you still can! can i hold you… please? just let me in.” you stared at him a minute, contemplating before you sighed in defeat and let him in. he gave you all the cuddles and kisses you wanted that night.

felix- you honestly didn’t think much of it. you were getting ready to go out and wanted just a little time with him but he was in the middle of a game and blew you off when you kissed him. this was really unlike felix but he’d had a rough day and he was really invested in the gameplay. so, you just rolled your eyes and kept getting ready. when you called out that you were leaving, he didn’t even hear a thing. with you being out at the club, you didn’t really check your phone that often, immersed with your friends and having a good time. by the time you had returned, giggling to yourself and stumbling through the door, you were met with something completely unexpected. felix slowly looked up at you, his cheeks stained with tears, his hair a mess from running his hands through it. “baby?” he whimpered out before attacking you in a hug. “oh, baby, i’m so sorry for ignoring you earlier! please don’t leave me!” he sobbed into your shoulder. needless to say your buzz was gone and comfort mode replaced it. “lixie, baby, i’m not upset. i just went out. i told you earlier i was going out.” you rubbed his back soothingly as he pulled away. “oh… you did, huh?” he suddenly felt embarrassed. “sorry, i panicked because i was a bit rude before and you weren’t answering your phone.” “it’s ok, love bug.” you pecked his lips. “let’s go to bed. i’m exhausted.” you led him back with you to the bedroom. “ok… can we cuddle?” felix asked, his big boba eyes pleading at you. “of course, cutie!”

seungmin- your boyfriend was not a fan of skinship, you’ve known this from the beginning. part of you was fine with it and would never want to make him uncomfortable or push his boundaries. however, you were just an affectionate person, it was in your nature. from the beginning you did your best to respect seungmin but it was getting harder and you started to feel less loved by him. one thing about seungmin is that he was observant and noticed every time he pushed you away, how your face would drop. he started to get insecure especially when he would see you around the other boys, especially felix, and cuddle them. he noticed how happy you were to have affection and started to worry that if he couldn’t get over it that he might lose you. at this point it was just instinct to deny you and when it happened this time you got up and left the bedroom. seungmin eventually heard the front door shut and began to panic. he raced from the bed, neglecting his shoes, phone, everything and stopped you at the elevator. your eyebrows knit together in confusion as you watched him catch his breath. “i’m sorry! don’t leave me! please!” he huffed out. “seungmin, i—“ “no, please! i know i’m a terrible boyfriend and i’m not good and hugging and stuff but i promise to be better just please stay with me.” tears began to form in his eyes. you sighed lovingly and stepped forward to kiss him softly. “babe, we’re out of milk. i’ll be back soon and we can talk more, ok? i love you, minnie.” you pushed the button on the elevator and seungmin stood back shocked as he watched the elevator doors shut. 

i.n- it was a total accident. he asked you to come out with his friends and you completely embarrassed him. you felt awful about it and apologized profusely but he was still pissed. jeongin felt like he was always the baby and always had to prove himself around everyone. it’s something that he’s worked really hard on improving and you’ve honestly helped with that, but he still has his moments where he still feels like the little kid in a group full of older boys. you unfortunately pushed that button tonight and you didn’t even mean to which led to an intense fight once you got home. it wasn’t even really a fight, jeongin just got really mad and you kept apologizing. you came forward and put a hand on his arm for him to throw you off. jeongin didn’t hurt you physically but it did hurt you emotionally. as you stood there staring at him in hurt and shock, he shook his head and went to your shared bedroom, slamming the door behind him. after a few minutes you decided to go to the person who could probably help you the most. you rushed out the door, calling to make sure you could even meet with him. “chris…” you whimpered into the phone and he could immediately tell. “hey! what’s wrong? are you ok? where’s i.n?” he asked concerned. “we got into a fight. i messed up, he was so upset. can i just come talk to you? please! i need some advice.” “yeah, i’m in the studio right now. just come on in.” you quickly made your way over. chan listened intently, not interrupting you as you got the whole story out in between tears. he did his best to comfort you and give you advice on how to handle jeongin, but really you both knew this was just something to ride out and learn from. suddenly, chris’s phone rang. “hey, jeongin… wait, slow down. slow down. they’re with me at the studio. yeah. ok… bye.” he hung up with the younger boy before addressing you. “he was worried about you. he should be here soon.” it wasn’t too longer after that jeongin burst through the door in tears. he fell to his knees in front of you and apologized, his head resting in your lap. you stroked his hair softly returning the apologies but got up, pulling him with you. the two of you said your goodbyes to chris and headed home to make up.

[violetsandfluff]

Tidy Little Secrets (introduction)

This is something new I’ve breathed into existence over the past 48 hours. So PLEASE give me feedback, as I haven’t had a lot of time to proofread this because I’m too damn impatient. Think of this as a trailer, an incomplete part one, a sneak peek, I don’t care. Just know that it’s here and I would really appreciate your support. This will be around five to eight parts.

Trigger warnings include: sex (in different parts), sexual tension, age gap, drugs, alcohol, mentions of shootings and abuse, abusive households and many other triggering matters.

Being an adult was hard.

Those were the sole words of wisdom your parents had bestowed upon you as a child. Enjoy your time under our roof, they’d said, because once you leave, life will be more difficult than you could ever imagine.

It wasn’t that you didn’t believe them. Quite the contrary, really. The adults you were raised among seemed like purposeless puppets. They woke up on weekdays and went to work just to party on the weekends and cough up enough money for rent at the end of the month before repeating the cycle. And even this “reckless” lifestyle seemed rigorous to maintain.

It was exasperating to be a child in the midst of this, much less an adult responsible for a child. The sixteen full years that you spent surrounded by alcohol, drugs, smoke, assault, gunshots, and toxic love had you gasping for air. You dropped out of school the moment you were old enough and your parents never knew.

You experimented with different types of jobs for the duration of your time at home. None of them felt right, but you accepted that as your future. If you weren’t finishing high school, gas stations, and fast-food restaurants it was.

When you were eighteen, you moved out and got a small apartment using the funds you’d been diligently collecting for the past two years. All of the jobs you worked were hierarchies, stratified into challenging levels someone like you could never conquer. Your future was only as bright as your resume, and your resume wasn’t promising.

You weren’t in contact with your family, except your sister, Nataly, though even that was limited to a singular call or text every few months. Both calls and texts were usually initiated by you. That’s why it was strange when she called you one Thursday evening in March.

“Guess what?” she had asked, voice radiant with excitement, carrying on before you got a word in. “I got a job working for this rich man uptown and he gave me my first paycheck. He’s paying me so well!” She went on to describe the job in vivid detail, and you had to admit, it was more than convincing.

“That's unbelievable, Nat,” you replied, feigning happiness. “Well, I don’t doubt that someone like you could land a good job, but... You know what I mean. Do you think that I would enjoy a job like that?”

“Oh, Y/N,” she gushed. “Of course! Especially if your client is as gorgeous as mine.”

The concept of attractive men had you sold instantly and she knew it. Within an hour, you added yourself to a hiring website where you put an ad out for a housekeeper. Now, all you had to do was wait. Fortunately, your offer was accepted within minutes by a wealthy man who lived uptown. He was in touch instantly, helping you plan out your tentative work schedule.

You couldn’t believe how well things were going. The dots were practically connecting themselves.

That night, you lay in bed, eyes aglow as you revised every detail of your evening. You had gotten a call from your sister, quit your job, and gotten a new job working as a maid. From now on, you would spend your days cooking and cleaning for a strange man in a mansion i rather than ringing up bottles of water and packets of trail mix for begrudging truckers. This kind of change was nearly unfathomable, a one-eighty capable of giving you whiplash.

~~~

Monday morning rolled around, dragging you with it. You were grossly unprepared. Your client supposedly had everything you needed, but that didn’t assuage your feelings of anxiety. You hadn’t cleaned anyone’s house but your own, much less wealthy old men in good neighborhoods. Hopefully, he would be kind and well-compensating like Nataly’s.

Clothed in loose, simple garments, you examined your appearance hesitantly. Your hair was pulled back into a low bun and your face was covered in a cheap layer of hastily-done makeup. You had to keep reminding yourself that you weren’t aiming to seduce the old geezer, rather earn money.

Once in your car, you punched his address into your GPS and followed it attentively, trying to pry your brain from the intruding thoughts of inadequacy. The farther you went, the nicer the homes and neighborhoods became. You assumed that none of the children that lived around here didn’t get to watch shoot-offs from their bedroom window every other weekend.

The GPS continued directing you up the street, and the houses got remarkably bigger, presumably costing a fortune. After driving for forty-five minutes, the GPS directed you to stop in front of the biggest, most beautiful house you’d ever seen. It was three stories tall and the most elegant building you’d ever seen.

It was made of a welcoming tan stone with regal white pillars framing the front door. There were windows everywhere, and even they looked expensive.

Eyes wide with amazement, you remained in your car, unable to move. You absorbed your surroundings as if you had never opened your eyes before. They scanned everything around you, eventually landing on the massive garage built into the side of the house. It was presumably filled with all kinds of luxury vehicles.

Once your wits returned to you, you made your way up the front walk and onto the stoop. A moment after you’d rung the doorbell, a voice called from somewhere inside, instructing you to enter. You opened the door cautiously and found yourself standing in the doorway, taking in the crystal chandelier and gleaming marble floors, jaw agape.

Just then, a tall man strode briskly in through the hallway beside you, flashing you a grand smile. He was much younger than you imagined, but dilf material nonetheless. He was dressed in a smart navy blue suit and his hair was tousled immaculately. He gave you a cocky smile, noticing the awe on your face. He was definitely proud of all that he had, but who wouldn’t be? You were surely blessed to be in his presence.

“Y/N, right?” he inquired,

He held out his hand for a shake and you broke out into a cold sweat at the thought of touching him. As he raised his hand, his sleeve fell just enough to reveal the tattoos that lay beneath.

You immediately forgot about his arms and focused on his voice. His accent made your name seem beautiful and exotic. This was too much. His grasp was firm and his hand was veiny and warm.

You took his hand and shook it properly. “Yes,” you stuttered, straightening yourself, busying yourself by fixing your waistband to avoid eye contact. “I’m Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Beautiful.” He let out a breathy chuckle.

He was so suave and articulate, speaking smoothly and making confident eye contact; a right businessman. And here you were, tripping over your words like the lower-class person you were.

He directed you toward a closet built into the side of his double staircase. “Everything you’ll need is in here and if you’re missing something, don’t hesitate to let me know. I don’t have anything f’you to do today. Take the to look around, I understand it’s pretty overwhelming.”

You smiled gratefully, deciding to ignore his implication to your income and upbringing.

“I only have to work until one today, so I’ll be back to answer any of your questions. Sound good?”

You nodded, trying your best to keep your act together until he left.

“I just have one rule. Whatever you do, don’t touch the door at the end of the hallway on the third story. Okay?”

You nodded again. “Yes, sir.”

“Harry,” he corrected with a cocky smile. “Call me Harry.”

His words echoed in your ears as he exited the door, briefcase in clutch. You locked the door behind him, sinking to the ground with your back to the wall, heart racing.

I’m gonna tag some people here just to get the ball rolling. (Taglist people, some mutuals, or people who liked this post.) Thank you in advance to anyone who interacts because it means the whole wide world to me. ⬇️⬇️⬇️ @madybeth21 @groovychaosavenue @sortingharryshairclip @fishingirl12 @mrspeacem1nusone @tenaciousperfectionunknown @cayleyhannha-blog @lukesaprince @babygirl-jj @shroombloomm @chocochipcookie305 @pamelagramm @harrysonlylover

[maydayfireball]

Len model finished !! His video was suppose to be a black background like rin's was, but i got a little carried away.. Just like Rin, check below for the model progress timeline and video credits !!

Turning Rin into Len ! I'm lazy and i want these two to look very similar, so i just edited rins face and body. Time elapsed: 00:34:53 (his head isn't smaller i just didn't screenshot well.)

2. Struggled drawing Len's hair ! I wouldn't normally include this part in my time, but like. fuck len. tumblr helped pick which one i used of these two blue prints. Time elapsed: 01:07:00

3. Len hair finished ! Why does this man hate me ! Time elapsed: 02:46:44 (almost two hours, huh..)

4. Body rig ! Unlike rin, I decided to rig len from scratch. This is because his base is too different from anyone else's to get away with weight transferring. (significantly shorter than kaito / gackpo, but with a different body shape than rin.) So here's a gif of his silly little arm movin. Time elapsed: 04:08:32

5. Hair Rig / Physics. For all the models (except rin) I've done their hair rig / physics right after rigging the body. This is mostly so i can have a fully optimized base to work off of later when making outfits. For rin i just.. forgot to do her hair lol. anyway time elapsed: 04:34:30

6. Outfit Designing. I didn't time this for rin since that timing was more for commission reference sake, and more clients won't have me designing their stuff. so it wouldn't have made sense to include it. but here we are. Rough outfit sketch. Fuck drawing headphones. Time elapsed: 05:06:05 for all my original models, the concept was more or less blending their design aspects together. (with the exception of gackpo, who's only difference between updates is colors and slight hair changes.)

7. Outfit modeling ! He went pretty easy, since It was just a matter of making parts i already did for Rin. So anything I struggled with last time, i had practice for. Time Elapsed: 7:50:25

8. UV Mapping. I included this step into texturing last time, but I felt like separating it this time around. Basically, i unwrapped all the UVs for the model and laid them out on a texture sheet to draw over. From what i've seen, a lot of people do this differently / in different orders? like they might uv map and then immediately texture the shirt, before moving onto the next piece of clothing. But texturing (using my tablet in general) hurts my shoulders typically, so i try to get it all out of the way at once. So i uvmap before even pulling the tablet out. Time elapsed: 8:50:48

9. Texturing. My neck hurts ! Time Elapsed: 11:40:19

10. Extruding, triangulating, exporting.. and then spas / toons. i think last time i included the extruding / triangulating in meta under texturing? But i've decided to break it up this time. Basically, i add depth to parts of the outfit, manually turn quads into triangles on tricky sections (like shoulders and hips) so they're easier to rig. Basically getting it ready for pmx before i export it. Time elapsed : 12:45:23 (left is unextruded / mirrored, right is extruded with the mirroring fixed.)

11. Rigging adjustments and physics ! Basically, used the weight transfer plugin to transfer the weight onto the outfit to match the base. I then cleaned the rig up and added bones / physics for parts that needed them. Time elapsed: 13:40:25

12. Cleaned ! Honestly there wasn't much to do, since most of the cleaning (like renaming bones) carried over from Rin.

Total time elapsed: 13:41:56 !!

Significantly less time than Rin, but that's honestly to be expected. Overall three days worth of work? Since I didn't. actually work on him much the first day.

I've also discovered that my models shoulders tend to disagree with game rip motions (which is why they look so. sharp. in the video), though i've noticed other models doing this as well.. it occurs since most motion rips don't use the rotate bones, but mine are made with those in mind. Kind of annoying, but maybe i can find a work around.

Final thoughts??? He might be my favorite original model right now honestly. I really like him. I might even distribute him and Rin, with expressions to remove their headphones and arm warmers.

Video Credits: Song: My Love Is Hellfire by SLAVE.V-V-R Len Cover: XZenvii Motion: anonRipper, Colorful Palette Scripts: TearlessHen, thtrandomlurker, minmode, skyth effects: おたもん, soboro, beammanp, 化身バレッタ, 呉石

[thesewordsareallihavetogive]

no body, no crime - allison argent x reader

(gif source)

Summary: When y/n disappears after confronting her husband about his affair, Allison takes matters into her own hands. Based on “no body, no crime (feat. HAIM)” by taylor swift [x]. You can find the mood board for this fic here

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings: cursing, infidelity, implied kidnapping, implied murder, murder, alleged murder, alleged/implied death of reader, reader is married to a man with a j name 🤢

a/n: hi everyone! it’s been a hot minute since i posted a new fic & this is why. i’ve been working on this since late december of 2020, so this is the longest i’ve ever spent on a stand-alone work. i’ll include more gory details about the writing process at the end if you’re interested :)

dedicated to: elle (@demxters) for all of her help and ideas! this fic literally wouldn’t have gotten finished without her, send her some love <3

this is also dedicated to caoimhe (@free-pool-trash​) for not murdering me after i gave her a preview several weeks ago and then just ✨stopped writing✨

master list

Este's a friend of mine

We meet up every Tuesday night for dinner and a glass of wine

“Hey!” Allison greeted cheerily as she met y/n at their usual table tucked in the corner of their favorite restaurant. y/n returned the brunette’s smile as she stood up to hug her friend, but it didn’t reach her eyes. Allison saw through y/n’s facade and furrowed her eyebrows. “What’s wrong?” she asked as concern spread across her features.

“I think Justin is having an affair,” y/n admitted. The statement dropped like a bomb between the two women, causing Allison to nearly spew the wine in her mouth all over the table. She coughed a few times and drank some water to clear her throat before she composed herself enough to ask questions.

“What happened? Did you see something?” Allison asked hesitantly. Her mind was still reeling from the mere concept of y/n’s husband cheating on her. Sure, Justin had never been Allison’s favorite guy, but it was normal for girls to think that no guy would ever be good enough for their best friend. Right? 

Her husband's acting different and it smells like infidelity

She says, "That ain't my merlot on his mouth"

"That ain't my jewelry on our joint account"

y/n explained what had been going on over the past few weeks. Justin had been acting distant, which wasn’t too abnormal, but when he started coming home from work much later than his shifts ended and disappearing at odd hours of the night, y/n got concerned. The day that she had planned to approach him about everything and ask if anything was wrong, she got a call from her bank while driving home from work.

“Hi Mrs. y/l/n, this is Kathy from the bank. I’m calling to inform you that there have been a few large cash withdrawals from your joint account recently under your husband’s name, as well as a pretty expensive purchase yesterday at the jeweler,” the rest of Kathy’s words sounded muffled to y/n. It was nowhere near her birthday, Valentine’s day, or their anniversary, so y/n didn’t know what he could possibly be spending all their money on.

The next incident came a few days later when both y/n and Justin were home. y/n’s husband was in the shower and his phone buzzed with a new text message alert. Typically, y/n was never the type to snoop on her husband’s phone, but she figured she should check in case it was a work message. At least that’s how she justified it in her head. Justin had saved the sender’s number under the contact name “Spam Risk.” It was clever, y/n had to give him credit for that at least. Upon further inspection, y/n quickly realized that those texts weren’t sent from a telemarketer bot.

6:24 p.m.   I can’t wait to see you tonight, baby - Spam Risk

6:25 p.m.   Don’t keep me waiting too long ;) - Spam Risk

y/n thought the messages were strange, but the picture that followed the messages was definitely what threw y/n for a loop. There, on her husband’s text message thread, was a racy photo of a woman’s body that definitely wasn’t hers. y/n was quite literally stunned to silence as she dropped the phone back down onto the dresser. For the rest of the night, y/n was numb and quiet, not that Justin noticed. Then, like clockwork, he left the house at 11 p.m. with no explanation of where he was going or when he would be back.

By the end of y/n’s story, Allison’s mouth was open so wide she was sure her jaw would hit the table. 

“What are you going to do?” Allison whispered, still in shock. y/n grimaced before clearing her throat and speaking her next words with finality.

No, there ain't no doubt

I think I'm gonna call him out

Este wasn't there

Tuesday night at Olive Garden at her job or anywhere

“Hi, there should be a reservation for two under Allison Argent or y/n y/l/n for tonight,” Allison greeted warmly as she approached the hostess stand at their go-to girl’s night restaurant.

“Right this way, ma’am,” the hostess said with a smile as she grabbed two menus and led her towards their usual table. Two menus. That must mean that y/n wasn’t there yet? Allison thought it was strange, y/n almost always was the first of the two to arrive. Allison brushed off the thought as she thanked the hostess and sat down. She had intended to look over the menu, but the strangeness of it all wouldn’t leave her mind. y/n was late. She was never late. Allison pulled out her phone to text her best friend, and it then occurred to her that she hadn’t heard from y/n since last week. Allison had been away on a “work” trip with her dad for the past six days and had just gotten back into town. After 30 minutes of sitting at the table alone, half a dozen unanswered text messages, and even more calls sent straight to voicemail, Allison dropped a few bills on the table and left.

As Allison pulled out of the parking lot, she turned on the radio in a futile attempt to drown out some of her racing thoughts. Between songs the radio host took to the mic to make an announcement.

“Hello Beacon Hills, we now interrupt your regularly scheduled listening with an urgent message from the Sheriff's department. Speaking now is Sheriff Noah Stilinski,” the host trailed off before there was a brief crackle as the audio transitioned to the Sheriff’s press briefing. Allison turned up the volume as the Sheriff’s voice carried across the radio.

“Thank you all for attending and tuning in. It is with great displeasure and a heavy heart that I inform you all that y/n y/l/n has been reported missing. Shortly after 8 a.m. this morning, we were informed by her husband that she didn’t show up for work yesterday morning and also didn’t come home last night,” Sheriff Stilinski continued speaking but it all began to sound like white noise to Allison. It took everything she had in her to focus on not veering off the road so that she could head to the Sheriff’s station and speak to Stilinski in person. 

Conveniently, her route took her right past y/n and Justin’s house. Allison didn’t know what to expect as she sped by their house, but the fact that Justin’s normally filthy truck had been cleaned and waxed definitely caught her eye. The truck and driveway were soon out of sight due to the speed she was driving at, but at first glance, it looked as though his tires and grill had been replaced.

He reports his missing wife

And I noticed when I passed his house his truck has got some brand new tires

About a week had passed since y/n had been reported missing. Allison wasn’t sure how many search parties had been held, but they all resulted in the same thing: nothing. There wasn’t a single trace of her best friend, in fact, everything in Beacon Hills looked completely unchanged and normal. Allison’s focus and appetite seemed to have left with her other half, try as she might to desperately hold onto them. Her marksmanship had even been affected, something that hadn’t happened since high school.

Allison started driving around town during her free time. She wasn’t headed anywhere in particular, she mostly did it to try to clear her mind, though most times she was unsuccessful. She’d been mindlessly taking right and left turns and before she realized where she was, she passed y/n’s house.

Allison hadn’t planned to slow down as she passed the house, it was a mindless act if anything. Seeing a moving truck backed up to the house while Justin and some unfamiliar blonde woman were unloading boxes ensured that her decision to park her car where it couldn’t be seen and spy on the pair wasn’t mindless. Despite her gut telling her not to, Allison decided to give Justin the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he needed a roommate now since y/n couldn’t pay her share of the rent? Allison tried her best to keep all of her judgments and suspicions at bay as she watched the otherwise uneventful event unfold while biting her fingernails. 

A few boxes later, Justin pulled the blonde in by her waist and kissed her with a fervor that would make most people blush. Allison’s eyes nearly popped out of her head as she sat there in shock with her mouth wide open. It took a while, mostly because the kiss lasted for an obnoxious amount of time, but Allison finally regained control of her body. It was like her brain had to go through a hard reset before she was able to face the reality of the situation.

y/n was right. Justin was cheating on her. Not only that, but Justin had cheated on y/n, spent less than a week grieving her disappearance, then allowed this to happen.

And his mistress moved in

Sleeps in Este's bed and everything

Allison found out that Justin Smith’s mistress’s name was Rebecca Baker. She was a few years younger than y/n and she worked at the same company as Justin. It didn’t take long for Allison to hack into both of their iCloud accounts. A few hours of scrolling later she was really regretting her decision, especially when she got to Justin’s messages to Rebecca about y/n.

2:47 a.m.  What about your wife? - Spam Risk

2:47 a.m.  What about her? - Justin

2:48 a.m.  Are you going to leave her or kick her out or something? - Spam Risk

2:48 a.m.  It’s been taken care of. - Justin

2:48 a.m.  Taken care of? Justin, what does that mean? - Spam Risk

2:49 a.m.  Justin??? - Spam Risk

Each new message ensured that bits of Allison’s fingernails had been gnawed off while her left hand fidgeted anxiously in front of her mouth. Allison decided that those messages were probably the most incriminating thing she’d find digitally, but the time and date stamps caught her eye. The texts were sent early Monday morning, the day that y/n allegedly left home and then didn’t show up for work or return home. 

A chill spread from deep within Allison’s bones up to the surface of her skin, making goosebumps appear. Allison didn’t know what exactly, but she knew something terrible had happened to y/n and Justin had something to do with it. She shut her laptop a little harder than necessary as a resolved look spread across her face.

No, there ain't no doubt

Somebody's gotta catch him out

Good thing my daddy made me get a boating license when I was fifteen

Allison regularly accessed her personal armory, whether it was to prepare for a job or pack for a trip to the shooting range, but it had been a while since a powerful and unforgiving feeling hung over her shoulders. Allison carefully ran her fingers over her custom silver arrowheads as she considered her options. Her father’s words from one of her adolescent archery lessons rung in her head.

“The type of bow and arrows you use doesn’t matter. As long as you use them right, you’ll be able to make any shot. Don’t get hung up on the technicalities.”

Not too long after, her bag was stocked with her essentials: a bow, her trusted black leather archery glove, as well as a handful of arrows, though these ones lacked the silver heads she typically reserved for more exotic expeditions.

The rare dark clouds in the California sky at sunset were reflected in Allison’s cold eyes. The drive to her target’s house was familiar, the turns she made were almost instinctual. Normally these roads reminded her of her coffee dates with y/n and nights they spent talking for hours until sunlight crept through the windows. Now, her mind was blank and her heart was devoid of all emotion.

Even though Allison had disabled her car’s GPS earlier, she parked her car about a mile away from his house. When she was done, there wouldn’t be any evidence that could be traced back to her. She memorized his schedule; at 5:00 p.m. his shift ended and recently he’d been getting home by 5:20. His girlfriend got home sometime between 5:30 and 5:45, but she would leave for her pilates class around 6:30 and wouldn’t get home until 7:45. Allison had just over an hour window to get the job done, but it wouldn’t take that long. If everything went according to plan, she’d be off the property within a few minutes of taking the shot.

When she arrived her target had just come home from work and was alone in the house. She waited patiently, hidden by the trees that the property backed up to. She watched as he moved around through the open curtains and then as his girlfriend entered the house and kissed him with a passion that made Allison’s stomach churn. She watched as they ate dinner together, as her target’s girlfriend got ready for her gym class, and watched as she got in her car and drove away. When Allison checked her watch it was only 6:25 p.m., she had far more time than she needed.

The plan was simple, really. Under the cover of darkness, she’d flip the breakers, effectively cutting the power. When her target came out to investigate, she’d let him fumble around in the darkness for a while. He’d always been a paranoid individual, so it wouldn’t take much to get him on edge. A rustle in the bushes here, a small snapped tree branch there, and then something that would get his attention. Allison wanted his eyes to be on her when she took the shot.

Allison’s target was watching TV so he knew immediately when the power went out, plus the fact that the once illuminated house was suddenly bathed in darkness. The high-pitched yelp that escaped his throat almost made Allison laugh. She had to keep quiet though, at least for now. As expected, the dopey man scurried around to the side of the house where the breakers were located in no time. The batteries in the flashlight he held were on their last leg, that much was evident in the way the light beam flickered every few seconds.

Just as he opened the door to the circuit breaker panel, Allison moved. A rustle here. The sound practically echoed in the silence of the night, causing the man to whip around and shine his flashlight directly at the source of the noise. There was nothing there. It’s just the wind, he reasoned before getting back to work. After a few switches had been flipped - none of them for the outdoor lights - he heard another noise. This one was much louder than the last, a small snapped tree branch there. Again, the flashlight’s flickering light beam uncovered nothing, but it was enough to make all of the hairs on the back of Allison’s target’s neck stand up straight. He hastily flipped the rest of the breakers and the outdoor lights finally came on. 

When yellow light from the backyard fixtures flooded the area, both Allison and her target were revealed. Allison stood a considerable distance away from the man, but she was close enough to see the blood drain from his face and his Adam's apple bob. When his eyes darted to the bow hung by her side, realization dawned on his face. He began to turn away with the intention of running, but Allison’s voice held him frozen in place.

“Don’t move,” she ordered quietly without any aggression behind her tone. Her face wasn’t threatening, she just looked calm and focused. Allison’s smooth features and peaceful expression was what scared the man the most.

“I- I’m sorry- I didn’t-” he stammered out, his arms and legs beginning to tremble.

“Shh,” Allison chastised as she raised her bow, loading it with an arrow. Her fingers moved with precision, her muscles knew this routine well.

“Please don’t- no, you can’t, you can’t do this!” the man pleaded. He wasn’t above begging on his knees, but Allison wasn’t about to give him the chance. Her gaze was sharply focused on her target, the view of her tightly grasped bow in her peripheral vision.

“Nous chassons ceux qui nous chassent.”

When Allison’s fingers let go of the bowstring the arrow flew smoothly through the air. The only sounds heard were the arrowhead piercing skin and the man wordlessly falling to the ground. The arrow went straight through his heart. Maybe Allison’s shot landed right where she intended. Maybe there was a metaphor in there. Allison checked her wristwatch, the numbers 6:45 shining back at her. An entire hour to spare.

Time to take out the trash.

I've cleaned enough houses to know how to cover up a scene

The job didn’t take long at all and it was definitely one of Allison’s least challenging ones, but it still felt nice to take a hot shower and sit in front of her fireplace with a cup of tea. The fire served a dual purpose; the crackles of the burning wood soothed her like a lullaby while the flames licked around and destroyed her bloody clothes from earlier. All of her equipment had been cleaned and put away, positioned exactly as it had been before. Everything was the same, nothing changed or out of place. There was just one less heartbeat in the world that night.

Good thing Este's sister's gonna swear she was with me

On the second day of the trial,  Rebecca Baker’s lawyers were throwing whatever they could against the wall to see if something would stick. That morning they began to argue that Allison Argent might’ve abducted and murdered Justin Smith in retaliation for y/n’s disappearance. It was all speculation at best, but the theory unfortunately made sense to the jury. Before things could get too far, the prosecution called its first witness of the day to the stand.

“Mrs. Martin, where were you on the night of Mr. Smith’s suspected disappearance?” the prosecution lawyer questioned calmly. 

“I was with Allison at my house. We were having a girls night in, you can check my security cameras,” Lydia answered confidently. Lydia still had a pocketful of favors from her MIT days, so when the jurors were shown the clips from Lydia’s home security cameras, they saw exactly what they would’ve expected based on Lydia’s testimony. 

Truth be told, Lydia didn’t know anything about what happened that night; including Allison’s whereabouts and any details related to Justin’s alleged demise. All she knew was that Allison called and asked for a simple favor - an alibi for just a few hours. Lydia didn’t ask questions and Allison didn’t give answers.

Good thing his mistress took out a big life insurance policy

On the third day of the trial, Rebecca Baker took the stand. Her lawyers tried to help her as best they could, but the prosecution was ruthless. All of the evidence was circumstantial at best -  all parties, including the judge and jurors, knew that - but it was enough to make everyone reconsider the spotless image the defense had tried to create for Ms. Baker.

“Ms. Baker, is it true that you knowingly engaged in a romantic relationship while Justin Smith was married to and living with his wife?” another one of the prosecution’s attorneys began.

“Yes,” Rebecca replied meekly. Allison internally scoffed from her seat in the gallery. She found irony in the fact that Rebecca didn’t find any humility or shame in sleeping with another woman’s husband until she was under oath.

“Is it also true that within approximately a week of Mrs. y/l/n’s disappearance, you moved into Mr. Smith and Mrs. y/l/n’s house?”

“That is correct,” Rebecca said as she began to wring her hands together anxiously. The judge tapped his wrist watch and shot a stern look towards the prosecutor. The man nodded in response and continued to his final points.

“I’ll wrap up my questions for you, Ms. Baker. Can you confirm that shortly after moving in with Mr. Smith, multiple legal and financial arrangements and adjustments were made? And these new arrangements make you the sole beneficiary of Mr. Smith’s life issuance policy, assets, and investments?”

By the end of the prosecution’s final question, every jury member and spectator sat up straighter and waited to hear Rebecca’s response with bated breath. The blonde ball of nerves sighed defeatedly before turning to face the attorney directly as she answered his question.

“Yes, that’s true.”

“No further questions, your honor.” As the lead prosecutor returned to the plaintiff’s table, Rebecca’s attorney stood up to address the judge.

“Your honor, the defense would like to request a brief recess,” the defense attorney nearly pleaded. Though his poker face was much better than his client’s, it was clear that he was getting nervous.

“We’ll reconvene in 15 minutes,” the judge ordered with a stern glare cast towards Rebecca.

They think she did it but they just can't prove it

It soon became clear to Rebecca that the recess her legal team requested was nothing more than a “kiss your dignity goodbye” meeting. If she hadn’t been queasy before the recess was called, she definitely was upon re-entering the courtroom.

The rest of the trial seemed to move in slow motion for Rebecca. A few more witnesses were called to the stand, more lackluster evidence was presented, both sides made their closing arguments, and the jury left to discuss the verdict. After what felt like an eternity, the jury returned with an official decision.

Silence settled over the room as a single juror stood to address the court.

“The jury finds the defendant not guilty on count 1 of murder in the first degree based on lack of sufficient evidence. The jury finds the defendant not guilty on count 2 of kidnapping based on lack of sufficient evidence. The jury finds the defendant guilty on count 3 of insurance fraud based on…” 

The rest of the jurors’ statement sounded like white noise to Rebecca. She was just barely coherent enough to hear the judge deliver her punishment a few minutes later. $50,000 fine and 200 hours of community service.

Allison stuck around to the bitter end of the trial to hear the verdict in person. In all honesty, Allison didn’t want Rebecca to go to jail. It wouldn’t be right for her to serve time for a crime she didn’t commit, but Allison did find satisfaction in the fact that Rebecca would soon be picking up garbage in a fluorescent orange vest.

After the majority of the spectators had vacated the courtroom gallery, Allison leisurely gathered her things. Justice had been served to Justin, she personally made sure of that, and now justice had been served to Rebecca. The blonde and brunette women briefly locked eye contact as Allison made her way towards the exit. 

“You did this,” Rebecca whispered to Allison. Suddenly, it was like a flip switched within her. One moment she was numb, yet calm and collected, and the next moment she was screaming (literal) bloody murder and had to be held back by her lawyers.

“YOU DID THIS! YOU KILLED JUSTIN, YOU BITCH!” Rebecca cried, though her words fell on deaf ears. Allison exited the courtroom with her head held high as the courtroom deputy and defense lawyers did their best to calm the hysterical woman.

She thinks I did it but she just can't prove it

A week later the court case was still on Allison’s mind but the emotional scars had begun to scab. Healing was never a straight or smooth path, Allison had learned that the hard way over the years, but this was a start.

y/n’s landlord had been generous enough to allow Allison to gather y/n’s things before he cleaned out the house for new renters. As Allison walked through the home she once considered to be an extension of her own, she felt her throat dry out and tighten up. She hadn’t realized she was crying until she was wiping salty tears off of the picture frames she’d carefully picked up. Each photo unlocked a new memory, some even elicited a chuckle out of Allison amidst her tears.

A photo from y/n’s wedding day stood out among all the rest as Allison’s eyes jumped from frame to frame. It was a candid shot Lydia had taken while they were in y/n’s dressing room before the ceremony. y/n looked as beautiful as ever in her flowy white gown and Allison’s mulberry maid of honor dress complemented it well. As Allison put the final touches on y/n’s hair and makeup, y/n fastened the clasp of a custom necklace behind Allison’s neck. On a thin, medium-length chain hung an arrowhead from the first time Allison had ever tried to teach y/n how to shoot a bow and arrow. y/n failed miserably, but it was a cherished memory for both girls. Since that day, Allison had only taken the necklace off a handful of times.

Allison smiled bittersweetly at the memory and wiped a fresh tear off of the decorative frame before pulling her necklace out from underneath her shirt. She pressed a gentle kiss to the cool silver arrowhead and then to the photo frame, right above y/n’s styled hair. 

A feeling that Allison couldn’t quite explain flowed through her body just then; it was like taking a deep breath of fresh air after being stuck underwater or seeing the gentle rays of the sun for the first time after a hurricane, it felt like freedom. Allison felt almost as if y/n was right there next to her, with her head resting on Allison's shoulder and wrapping her arms around the brunette’s torso. In that moment, Allison somehow wordlessly knew with every fiber in her being that y/n was finally at peace. 

No, no body, no crime

I wasn't letting up until the day he died

a/n: AHHHH DID YOU LIKE IT? it was kind of a wild ride from start to finish and i definitely shed a few tears while i was writing it. please lmk what you think!

okay, now onto the writing process from hell: i started drafting ideas for the fic on dec. 21 or 22 of 2020, after i put together a mood board. i had written more than half of the fic when i decided i hated it and scrapped the whole thing on xmas eve (~3000 words 🤡). after that i was kinda in a rut and couldn’t decide how i wanted to end the fic so i ended up writing and deleting ~2500 words over the past month and a half. @demxters​ is an absolute GODDESS and helped me come up with the ending, so i am eternally grateful to her for that. if any of this seems a lil strange it’s probably because i finished writing it at 4:45 a.m. after working on it for 3ish hours straight. have a great day lovelies!

join my tag list!

@dashkana​ @rogershoe​ @basicbibitxh​ @sweetfairyprincess17​ @samkysnks​ @ellxpsismm​ @pure-ghost​ @lilyspells​ @ineedyourskulls​ @loveheathens​ @plq-cid @linkpk88​ @grace-wade-08​ @brithedemonspawn​ @fanfichoex​ @wistful-chaos​ @silveralma​ @malfoysadore​ @miss-i-ship-it​ @sonnydoesrandomshit​

[phlebasphoenician]

Fic Writer Review

Thank you so much for tagging me and inviting me to play, @silverutahraptor!

This is fairly long so I’m putting it under a cut.

1. How many fics on AO3?

99 as of today!

2. Total AO3 wordcount?

558,120.

Of that, 481,556 was in 2021.

3. How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

Okay, this is a lot!

Naruto (88)

Original Work (4)

Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling (4)

Mulan (1998) (1)

The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien (1)

The Lord of the Rings (Movies) (1)

Raya and the Last Dragon (2021) (1)

Sleeping Beauty (1959) (1)

The Secret Life of Walter Mitty - James Thurber (1)

Jurassic Park - All Media Types (1)

Aladdin (1992) (1)

Brave (2012) (1)

Frozen (Disney Movies) (1)

The Authority (1)

Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs (1937) (1)

Beauty and the Beast (1991) (1)

Harvest Moon: Sunshine Islands (1)

Philip Marlowe - Raymond Chandler (1)

Harvest Moon: Island of Happiness (1)

Fruits Basket (Anime 2001) (1)

Pet Shop of Horrors (1)

Tangled (2010) (1)

The Little Mermaid (1989) (1)

ヒカルの碁 | Hikaru no Go (Anime & Manga) (1)

Fruits Basket (1)

Cinderella (1950) (1)

Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types (1)

Moana (2016) (1)

4. Top Five by Kudos?

Escape and Evade (Madara/Tobirama)

Silence is Golden (Tobirama/Izuna)

Caught and Captured (Madara/Tobirama)

Life Come to Life (Tobirama/Izuna)

Wild Wolves (Kakashi/Iruka)

5. Do you respond to comments, why/why not?

Oh, I always respond to comments, and usually within 24 to 48 hours! I love chatting with people about my stories and it often sparks new ideas or helps to conceptualise free floating world building/characterisation which is wonderful.

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

That would be a tie breaker.

Either A World Well Lost (Harry Potter, surprise pairing) or Love Wears a Mask (Naruto, Danzou/Kagami). Both of them are tagged 'Dead Dove: Do Not Eat' for a reason.

7. Do you write crossovers? If so, what is the craziest one you’ve written?

Yes, I do!

The craziest one that I've ever written is The Secret Lives of Marilyn and Susan Short, an homage to The Secret Life of Walter Mitty by James Thurber as well as a commentary on the concept of the Mary Sue in fanfiction.

8. Have you received hate on a fic?

Yes.

I don't mind constructive criticism as a rule, but I've received comments and commentary that definitely crossed the line into rudeness, or that seemed intended to hurt and be destructive.

Some of them, especially on Escape and Evade, actually made me afraid to write about Mito or from her perspective for fear that I would get yelled at again. In several cases, I felt compelled to write long comments defending my authorial choices.

It probably didn't help that Escape and Evade was the first time that I'd written fanfiction in 15 years.

Needless to say, it was not an enjoyable experience for me.

9. Do you write smut?

Yes, I do!

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Thankfully, no. At least not that I'm aware of! I don't think I'm a popular enough author for that kind of thing to happen.

11. Ever had a fic translated?

Nope!

12. Ever co-written a fic before?

Hm, kind of?

People have thrown lines at me which I've spun into stories, and I've worked with the fantastic @kurakura0-0 on fiction and art collaborations!

On a less deliberate note, I also wrote Ariel for which the amazing @good-grievance wrote a sequel, and we published them as a single story because they made better sense that way. However we didn’t really set out to collaborate on it.

13. All time favourite ship?

I don't actually have one!

I'm a multi shipper and I don't really have an OTP in Naruto which is the fandom that I'm currently the most active in.

I couldn't choose amongst all of my fandom ships for a favourite either.

Instead, I offer my oldest ship, the ship that I've had since I was a wee little fan - Gambit/Rogue. My second oldest ship would be Charles/Erik. X-Men was my first fandom.

14. What’s a WIP you want to finish, but don’t think you ever will?

I only have three WIPs that I'm partway through publishing on AO3, and one of them is only a WIP because it ran into the new 75 tag limit and bounced! 🤣

It's actually complete, and the other two are actively being published. I’m committed to publishing a chapter a day on my main series.

All of my other WIPs (of which there are many) are just waiting their turn to be worked on. None of them fall into the category of being unable to be finished.

I only have one work that I've tagged 'Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued' and that's A Third Wish for Miranda, an original fiction work that would be about novel length if I ever finished it. I still like it quite a bit and I'd love to finish it, but I abandoned it because it ran into a plot hole that I had no idea how to fix. When I wrote it, I didn't have the skills to take it any further. Perhaps someday!

15. What are your writing strengths?

Oooh, I'm not sure! The ability to deconstruct my writing and troubleshoot it when I'm having issues, perhaps. Alternatively, world building.

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

Oh, too many to count!

My paragraphs are far often too short, my writing isn't as visceral or descriptive as it should be, my smut isn't hot enough or is too repetitive... there's lots of areas that I want to work on!

17. What are your thoughts of writing dialogue in other languages?

I wouldn't mind it, and I often include words in my writing that are from languages other than English. However, they need to be there for a reason and they must be penetrable to the reader.

I could see myself writing two characters speaking in a foreign language in front of a third character who isn't supposed to understand them for example.

18. First fandom you wrote for?

Harry Potter in 2005.

19. Favourite fic you’ve ever written?

Oh my, I don't think I could choose!

If I absolutely had to pick, I'd probably say To Tempt a Target simply because it was a story that was so hard to write, but also a story that I put so much of myself into.

Tagging, but only if you want to, no pressure ❤️: @longliveustherecklessandthebrave , @woofgang69 , @heyitswrenn , @hidendumbassvillage , @greyduckgreygoose , @emilx311 , @sqbr , and anyone else who wants to!

[planetjisungie]

lucky charms- h.rj

characters; ravenclaw! renjun x hufflepuff! reader ft. gryffindor! mark and gryffindor! jeno (sigh)

summary; with the exams coming up, you need a little help with your charms. well you dont, you just needed an excuse to talk to your long time crush, huang renjun

an; i literally changed this on the spot 🤡 plot holes here i come- (also id like to think jeno is more of a hufflepuff but idk man)

sigh okay this is a long boi

end of year exams were in just a few weeks

yay, your absolute favourite !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

sarcasm

now, charms

in room 99, classroom 2E in the south tower

i did my research

you were pretty good at charms, not nearly as good as you were in the care of magical creatures and herbology though

still above averagely good

you know who else was good at charms?

huang renjun

the star ravenclaw prince boy, the pride of the house and a very beautiful boy

best boi renjun

if jeno was being quite honest he was SICK AND TIRED of hearing you two pine over eachother

jeno met you in first year, and you quickly became best friends and even ended up in the same house as eachother

despite having different friend groups (your friend group consisted of you and eunji), you stayed best friends until now aka 5th year

just go with it okay

so as he was saying before i digressed, jeno physically is pained as he watched the longing glances both you and renjun throw when the other isnt looking

but it isnt his business to meddle with your lack of relationship problems

best boi part 2

BUT! but! he will give you both a tiny! eensy! little! minuscule! nudge

that nudge being forming a plan with you

you were slightly reluctant when jenos very enthusiastic face greeted you at the table saying he had ‘a totally brilliant, spectacular, show stopping, wonderful, flawless plan’

this was jeno we were talking about

the same boy who planned the failed midnight snack run a few weeks before

and as soon as he mentioned renjun your eyes narrowed

"proceed."

the plan was for jeno to ask renjun to tutor his friend who was falling behind in charms

said friend was you

and you were ahead of the class

bUT!! you agreed because he wasnt in your class, so there was no way he could know that right?

wrong.

who was in your class?

mark lee. one of renjuns best friends.

also the boyfriend of eunji and the reason you wanted to gauge your eyeballs out everytime you turned around to talk to them

thats right eunji ditched you to sit next to her little markie. bitch.

nonetheless, you agreed because your dumb, spontaneous ass forgot that renjun even knew mark, because if someone said ‘whos mark?’ you would go ‘eunjis boyfriend’

so of course, when all the students were making their way to their class, jeno caught up with renjun seeing as they both had muggle studdies

"hey man, i have a favour to ask"

stage one of operation: stop the oblivious fuckers from pining over eachother (that name may need some revamping) was a-go

"depends what said favour is"

smart boi™️

"is it possible to tutor one of my friends in charms for the upcoming OWLs?"

oh? this piqued china pretty boys interest

"i mean, sure, i could do with some revision too. tell them to meet me at the library after school"

and so jeno walked away with a smug smirk, victorious

and when jeno told you he had agreed later in potions, you were yet you werent surprised

so of you trotted after last period, kinda nervous because youre about to be in the literal breathing proximity of renjun

like obviously youve talked to him before but this time it was just you and him

alone

no get those thoughts out of your head

n e ways u perv

renjun sat at the back table, textbooks and notebooks with his neat writing in both chinese and korean all over the pages

smart boi part 2

so seeing him not looking at you

attention whore

wow why am i so mean today

you sat down and cleared your throat, placing your blank notebooks on the table so the boy wouldnt get suspicious

you had to pray to whatever gods were listening for your cheeks not to flare up the colour of the strawberries you had for breakfast

healthy girl™️

and the gods apparently answered your prayers

because as soon as renjun looked up and into your eyes you swore you were too distracted for your blood cells to even think about moving towards your face

and renjun nearly had a heart attack (by aoa)

poor boy

jeno had NOT told him that he would be tutoring you

he was going to be choked later

"sorry im late"

renjun was nearly offended that you would even apologise to him for being late by

2 minutes and 48 seconds

"no no its okay i havent been here long"

that was a lie he had study period last and has been sat in the same goddamn chair for an hour already but your presence made his ass cheeks ache less

so he started teaching you, but ???

you seemed to fully grasp the concepts

confused boi

excuse me ma’am/sir/señor/señorita whatever you prefer to go by-

you need to brush up on your acting skills dude

appalling smh your drama teacher back from your muggle school would be completely distraught

so for the next hour renjun ‘tutored’ you

things you already knew but this was a dream-

and actually he was a funny guy

he was also muggle born, so you could both relate over things you experienced as a kid

this lead to a raging debate over dora the explorer

that bitch was shaded in said debate, fully annihilated

hola soy dora your asshole

but,, it was fun. because jeno was pureblood and grew up knowing about all his magicky stuff so he was kinda boring sometimes

no tea no shade

but you ended the session with smiles on both your faces, cheeks literally aching with how hard youd been laughing and smiling

so lads

the next day at breakfast renjun was all happy, plonking himself next to mark at the gryffindor table because

man does not give a SHIT about the looks he was getting. he is huang renjun.

"why are you so smiley this morning? and why didn’t you come to my common room last night"

the gryffindor common room was the dreamie hang out

no one dared tell THE mark lee to go somewhere else with his friends

"sorry, last night i was tutoring y/n in charms" smiley boy still

mark seagull eyebrows: activated

excuse him?? charms?? you?? the one who got an outstanding in your report card??

something smells fishy here

"renjun... y/n got an outstanding on her charms"

eunji who had magically appeared next to mark basically said what he was just thinking

confused boi part ??

"wait what?"

but later on he didnt question you about it

he silently observed you

he told himself that anyway

quite honestly if you were spending time with him he was not about to complain

he was staring at you, simply put

my leng bby (thats you, youre my leng bby)

so for the next 2 weeks every day after school you would meet up to ‘catch up’ on your charms

that being said it literally always, every time, ended up with you two talking about something unrelated

like the 5th day you had a conversation about which series of power rangers was better

"SPD, obviously"

AM I THAT OLD?? on god i hate it here

"no, y/n, we all know that dino force is better"

i agree with y/n on this one pal

on the 7th day you talked about muggle sports that you both enjoyed

"i played a lot of cricket"

"cricket? okay tory"

"i am NOT a tory"

on the last day when you should have been, you know, LEARNING

you were having a lovely old chinwag about the x factor

"simon cowell is a king"

"i agree"

legend behaviour if you ask me

wait does chinwag exist in other countries??? translation: chat

so of course the exams came up

but you were dreading them for a different reason

this meant the end of tutoring with renjun

this was super bittersweet, you wanted to spend more time with eachother

you literally could it wasn’t that deep both of you are so dumb smh aint nothing stopping you

jeno agrees with me too, mans pulling out his hair still as you had somehow not gotten together yet

it was like watching snails race, incredibly frustrating but you know that there is the finish line somwhere over the horizon

so you took your exams and both of you passed with flying colours, obviously

smart kids

and you ran right to renjun to celebrate

seeing as he had

not really helped you but you thought that he thought he helped you

oh no honey he knew that you didnt need help

but he didnt know whether to confront you about it?

rip your guilty conscience

so after a long discussion with mark, our china boy decided to ask why the heck you wanted his help when you were absolutely fully capable

unlike mark

and when you saw him approach you first in the halls your heart went

NYYOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM

that was the sound of a fast motorbike

"hi y/n"

‘damn renjun, couldnt have thought of anything better than that?’

"uhh hi renjun"

awkward silence by stray kids

"i just wanted to know why you asked for my help"

okay where is the nearest shovel and what is the most efficient way to dig a large hole-

as if renjun sensed your panic radiating off you in waves

which he did

"not that it was an issue! i enjoyed spending time with you, it was just, you didnt really need help"

he was a pure boy

so you puffed your cheeks and decided to just come clean

somewhere, jeno felt his senses tingling

"genuinely i just wanted to spend some time with you because i really like you"

renjun froze and wanted to smack his head into a wall

bruh

you noticed his expression and panicked yet again

stop panicking man its okay i gotchu

"it was jenos idea"

blame jeno is always a fool-proof plan b

unless you get pregnant, that would not be a good idea

so i guess its not fool proof

BUT I DIGRESS

renjun face palms and groans

"youre kidding me! all this time we wasted doing boringass charms work when we couldve gone on dates"

confusion™️

but?? you felt hopeful??

"i dont think im on the same wavelength"

"i like you too dumbass"

oH so YOURE the dumbass??

yes, yes you are renjun is best boi, accept the L which is really a W bc renjun likes you back

jeno who had found his way to you, listening from around the corner sighed in happiness

"fucking finally!!"

[do-it-with-style-events]

Interest Check FAQ!

Hey everyone! We were absolutely blown away with the response to our Reverse Bang interest check—we can’t wait to get signups open tomorrow! There were some great questions asked on the interest form, so below the cut you’ll find some answers and explanations about things people have been confused about, plus a full explanation of how we’ll be running writer claims at the very bottom.

What happens if I don’t get claimed / get a piece during claims?

The DIWS mod team is committed to making sure everyone gets a match during claims. If you sign up, you’ll be able to participate. All writers will be given a piece of art, and all artists are guaranteed that at least one of their submitted pieces will be claimed. There’s a detailed explanation about the claims process at the bottom of this post, but rest assured, we will get everyone matched up.

Can I submit more than one piece as an artist?

Short answer: YES!

Longer answer: Yes, but with some specifications. Since we won’t know the exact balance of artists to writers until sign ups close, we’ve created a system that allows us a fair amount of flexibility, so we can adjust with the numbers.

Artists may submit up to 2 pieces which will be guaranteed to go onto the claims slides for the writers to look at. We only guarantee that one piece per artist will be claimed, but it is likely that any piece on the claims slides will be claimed.

In addition, artists may submit up to 2 pieces which will not be guaranteed to go onto the claims slides. Depending on how many art submissions we get and how many writers sign up, we will dip into this list of extra pieces at random to make sure we have enough art to go around. If you submit 2 extra pieces, you’ll be able to rank them, and we’ll go through everyone’s first extra piece before we start adding second ones.

We know this is a bit complicated, and as always please ask questions if you’re not sure about something. It all comes down to a matter of numbers. There’s no way for us to ensure there is exactly the same number of art pieces as there are writers, so we need this flexibility to make sure everyone ends up happily on a team.

What if I’m an artist and a writer?

If you’re signing up as both an artist and a writer, you may submit one initial art piece and one extra.

Is there a theme?

Nope! As long as it’s a Good Omens fanwork and does not include RPF (Real Person Fiction) or one of the Archive of Our Own major archive warning tags without prior approval from the mod team you’re golden!

Are crossovers allowed?

To a certain extent. Fusions, where you take another source material’s setting or aesthetic or inspiration from the plot are allowed, but full crossovers involving characters from other sources are not. A good rule of thumb is if someone could understand the piece fully without knowing anything about the non-Good Omens source material.

What’s the required word count for fics?

Minimum word count for all fics is 5k. There is not a maximum, BUT we strongly encourage you to plan a piece which you can complete in five chapters or less. This isn’t a hard limit, especially since once you’re working with an artist both works may grow from the collaboration, but please base your initial plans around keeping your work relatively small.

Are languages other than English allowed for fics?

Unfortunately no. We can’t guarantee matches for non-English works, and on the moderation side we won’t be able to do check-ins or claims effectively, so all fics must be written in English for this event.

How can I help out as a beta?

Because we don’t require beta readers or do beta claims, we won’t have beta signups for this event. We did for the Mini Bang and then didn’t use the list of signups much, so have decided to forgo it this time. However, we do have pingable beta roles for both fic and art in our discord server, so if you’d like to help out as a beta for the Reverse Bang we suggest you join us over there so writers and artists can contact you if they want help!

What does the timeline for working on event pieces look like?

You can check out our schedule right here!

Also, keep in mind that while posting begins on January 17th, it will go on for several weeks, likely until the end of February. And we don’t require the entire piece to go up on your posting day, so it doesn’t have to be completely finished by then, either.

If you aren’t sure that you’ll be able to commit to this timeline right now, you can also consider joining us as a pinch hitter, for either writing or art, and jump in to help a group that’s lost a member later on.

Claims

We’ve had a lot of really good questions about claims, which makes sense! Claims are complicated, and we totally get that they can be a bit anxiety inducing, so we decided to just give you a walkthrough of exactly how we do claims from start to finish. We’ll be using essentially the same system we did for the Mini Bang.

Before claims, artists will submit a draft of their piece along with some extra info: a working title, tags, warnings, the rating(s) they’re comfortable with, and, if they’d like, a loose summary or concept for a fic they imagine relating to their piece. The mods will collect this info, anonymize it by assigning each work a number, and then put them all into a doc. That doc will be shared with the writers, who will have about a week to peruse them and decide which pieces catch their eye the most.

(A note on anonymity: it isn’t going to be perfect this time. Art styles are much more immediately recognizable than written ones, even in a drafting stage. We are confident though that the randomization element of our claims system should solve any issues recognizing artists could cause.)

During claims, all writers will be sent a google form to fill out. On this form, we ask for a ranked list of the artworks the writer is interested in working on. Last time we asked for a minimum of 7; we’ll decide what this event’s minimum will be after signups have closed and we know what our artist to writer ratio is.

Once the claims form has closed (after 48 hours), the mods will get to work pairing people up. Our system has a lot of moving parts, so bear with us while we go through this.

To start off, we assign every writer a random number. We do not do claims first come first serve, so this random number gives us our sorting order. Writers who are under 18 are given the first numbers, to make sure they can be paired with SFW only artwork.

Our first goal is to make sure everyone gets paired. To facilitate that, we start off by pairing up any art piece which was only claimed by one writer. We continue to pair solitary matches throughout the process when new ones appear as matched pairs are removed from the list.

Once there are no more solitary matches, we start at the top of our randomized writer list and give them the first artwork listed in their claims form. Then that writer and that art piece are removed from the list, and we continue on. As works are removed from the list, new solitary pairs may occur, and we pair them as soon as they show up, then continue down the numbered list.

As an example:

Writer #1 listed arts: 6, 4, 18, 22, 94, 38, 2, 71, 64, and 40 Writer #2 listed arts: 71, 83, 49, 22, 41, 17, 46, 60, 81, and 3 Writer #3 listed arts: 6, 71, 38, 94, 71, 62, 6, 18, 30, and 13

Writer #1 gets art 6; Writer #2 gets art 71; Writer #3 gets art 38, because the first two on their list are already assigned.

As an extra precaution to make sure everyone gets a pair, we’ll be offering writers the option to act as a wild card instead of giving us a ranked list of art pieces. Wild card writers will be assigned wherever we need to fill in once the main process is done. Wild card writers will still be allowed to tell us which ratings they are comfortable with and to give us a no-go list of things they would not like to be paired with, which we will respect when giving them their assignments.

This is a complicated process, we know. It took us about 3 days to figure out how to make all the moving pieces work last time, but in the end it went fantastically, and we’re confident it will work just as well this time. If you have any questions about it please don’t hesitate to reach out; we want everyone to feel comfortable with the game plan before we dive into it!

[mintypineapple]

dw ask game 1-36 and 38-100 DON'T ANSWER NUMBER 37 I DON'T WANT TO HEAR ABOUT CRYING

DaThanks, anon who is probably @truestoriesaboutme!

CHILDHOOD

1. Did you like DW as a child?

Depends. What do you consider a child? I saw Doctor Who for the first time when I was 16 or 17. Does that count? Let’s say that it does. I did enjoy it.

2. Your age at the time of the revival?

16.

3. First DW episode you ever saw?

An Unearthly Child. I wanted to watch it all in order! Still do! My first New Who episode was “Blink,” as forced upon me by @raisegrate. I did enjoy it.

4. Did you have any of the toys?

I didn’t at the time, but I do now. I have a couple of screwdrivers, a Fourth Doctor, an Ice Warrior, and not-quite-Legos of Doctors 1-11. (-WD)

5. Which DW character did you play on the playground?

N/A.

6. Monster(s) that scared you most as a child?

N/A. Nothing scares me.

7. Joke/story you didn’t get as a kid?

N/A. I get all jokes/stories.

8. DW opinion that has changed since you were a kid?

That the only way to watch it was from the very beginning. I eventually gave in and watched New Who before finishing Classic Who.

9. Who introduced you to DW?

Pretty sure I heard about it initially on a forum I went to called The Douglas Adams Continuum. That’s when I started watching the First Doctor. Again, @raisegrate showed me my first New Who. Eventually, I started watching New Who in its entirety with @catastrofries and they started watching Classic Who with me for @rassilonwatchathon.

10. Did you like Sarah Jane Adventures as a child?

Didn’t even know it existed as a child. But I liked it as an adult.

Read more under the cut. There’s a lot!

DOCTOR

11. Who is your Doctor?

One. He’s the first I saw and I’ve went through some of his more than once, due to the podcast, so he has a special place in my heart.

12. Your favourite Doctor?

It varies depending on the day. I quite like Two, Eleven, and Twelve, though.

13. Least favourite Doctor?

Possibly 5 or 13? More because they don’t get a whole lot to do, than them being bad.

14. Best regeneration?

Technically speaking, there’s something about that first one that is still so good. Emotionally speaking, Two’s regeneration is terrifying and I quite like Twelve’s speech before regenerating.

15. Do you like “Doctor-Lite” episodes?

Yeah! They’re all pretty good! Even “Love and Monsters!” Yeah, I said it! (The end is bad, but the rest is good.)

16. Who is the most human Doctor?

One calls himself human a handful of times. Does that count? If not, definitely Five. He seems the most like a regular guy in a weird situation out of all of them.

17. Best multi-Doctor story?

The Day of the Doctor, for sure.

18. Best Doctor monologue?

Eleven’s speech to young Amy in “The Big Bang.” That episode is just solid all around.

19. What do you think TenToo/MetaCrisis Doctor is doing now?

He’s definitely fucked off somewhere and abandoned Rose. He runs a cat cafe that is definitely a front for something, but no one can quite figure out what.

20. Best Doctor/companion pairing?

One/Barbara, Two/Jamie, Three/Jo, Four/Leela, Five/Tegan, (haven’t seen enough of Six, any of Seven, and I honestly don’t remember the companion for Eight), Nine/Rose (that’s the only option!), Ten/Donna, Eleven/Amy-Rory, Twelve/Clara, Ruth/Thirteen.

COMPANIONS

21. Favourite companion?

Classic Who: This is hard. Jamie? Sarah Jane? Leela? New Who: Donna Noble.

22. Favourite secondary companion?

Not sure what this means exactly... My second favorite? If so, I gave three for favorite Classic Who, so one of them. New Who: Rory.

23. Least favourite companion?

Classic: Ben Jackson or Peri. New: Ryan.

24. Best TARDIS Team?

Classic: Two, Jamie, and Zoe. New: Eleven, Amy, and Rory.

25. Most underrated companion?

I love Steven Taylor. I feel like he doesn’t get mentioned enough.

26. Most overrated companion?

Probably gonna get some hate for this, but Romana II. She’s good and I like her, but I was expecting a lot more. I honestly prefer Romana I.

27. Favourite companion’s family?

I love Rory’s dad.

28. Who should have been a companion but wasn’t?

Kamelion. AM I RIGHT? But seriously, Amelia Rumford from “The Stones of Blood.”

29. Favourite (canon or non-canon) DW universe relationship?

Amy/Rory.

30. Who did you not used to like, but really like now?

I hated Tegan when she first came on, but now I love her.

EPISODES

31. Favourite episode ever?

“Heaven Sent.”

32. Least favourite episode?

“Time-Flight” gave me a literal headache.

33. Which episodes do you skip?

NONE. Of course, I’ve not done any rewatches. YET.

34. Best two-parter?

“The Empty Child/The Doctor Dances” are the first New Who episodes that fully sold me on the show.

35. Historical, present day or futuristic episodes?

Give me the future and make it weird!

36. Episode that will always make you smile?

“The Myth Makers.”

37 HAS BEEN REDACTED.

38. Best run of episodes?

“Vincent and the Doctor” through “Day of the Moon” is pretty solid.

39. Best cliffhanger?

“Vengeance on Varos.” Hands fucking down.

40. Favourite Christmas special?

The answer to question 37. “A Christmas Carol.”

SERIES

41. Classic Who or New Who?

Yes please! (Though New Who will take this a little just because the pace is generally a lot better.)

42. Favourite series?

I’m not sure about Classic (I have a harder time thinking of them as different series), but New is definitely 5.

43. Least favourite series?

11.

44. Which series do you skip?

See 33.

45. Favourite series opening?

“The Eleventh Hour.” It’s just a lot of fun.

46. Favourite series finale?

“The Big Bang.” IT’S A GOOD SERIES.

47. Best series arc?

So I don’t sound repetitive and say Series 5 again, Clara’s arc in her last season is great.

48. Thoughts on series 11/12?

I find it largely boring and not well-written. Though there are some things I like! I love Ruth a bunch.

49. How much of Classic Who have you seen?

I’ve seen from “An Unearthly Child” to “The Two Doctors.” And the movie.

50. Who should have had another series?

Doctor: Nine. Or Eight. Or Ruth. Companion: Kamelion, but done better.

MONSTERS

51. Favourite monster/villain?

I love them Fuzzy Chicken Nuggets. (The Yeti.)

52. Most creative monster?

The Silence are an interesting concept.

53. Monster(s) that scares you most?

OAK AND QUILL from “Fury From the Deep.” Fuck those guys.

54. Monster you think is too easy to defeat?

I hate power level questions. Next.

55. Least favourite monster/villain?

I get really tired of the Daleks sometimes, y’all.

56. Monster you want to return?

Chumblies or quarks.

57. In your opinion, what makes a monster good?

The writing. You can do great things with most of them. Even the ones you dislike. Like, I hate the farting aliens, but they are occasionally used well.

58. Daleks, Cybermen or Weeping Angels?

If I had to pick, I’d say... Cybermen. Daleks are very samey and loud. Weeping Angels get less interesting every time they are used. But there’s a human element to the Cybermen that, when utilized, can be very effective and unsettling.

59. Best Dalek story?

The one where Two rides around on ones he made nice.

60. Best one time villain/monster?

I don’t know what it is, but whatever it is in “Midnight.”

ADDITIONAL MATERIAL

61. Torchwood or Sarah Jane Adventures?

SJA is more consistent, but the highs of Torchwood are higher.

62. Favourite Torchwood Team member?

Owen. But like... not season one Owen.

63. Which Torchwood death made you saddest?

See 62.

64. Do you rewatch COE or MD?

I haven’t rewatched anything yet. But I would rewatch COE before MD.

65. Favourite SJA Team member?

Clyde.

66. Mr Smith or K-9?

Mr. Smith is way more interesting. He had a villain arc!

67. Maria or Rani?

Rani.

68. Do you read the comics/novels or listen to Big Finish?

Some. I’m doing them as Patreon bonus episodes for @rassilonwatchathon​. I haven’t done much though.

69. If you do, your favourite additional stories?

“The Chimes of Midnight.” I’ve listened to it twice.

70. Do you like DW analysis (video essays, fan theories, etc)?

I do DW analysis for @rassilonwatchathon AND The Dipp. So yes. My fave is TARDIS Eruditorum, though.

I’LL ANSWER THE REST AT A LATER TIME. I MUST BE WITH MY PEOPLE NOW.

[atlas-tries]

Shatter Me Chapter 3: Shatter Me

Read on AO3

First | Previous | Next

Summary: Patton finds a painful memory and Janus has a vision. Will it be enough to thwart the outcomes that await?

Notes: Redundant, no? Not gonna lie, fam, it's about to get to the darkest point. Trigger warnings for character death.

“Patton, are you sure you aren’t a hoarder?” Virgil asked, pushing aside a mountain of plushies where he had been unfortunate enough to land. This was the first time the anxious side had been in Patton’s room since he moved to their part of the Mindscape (also the first time he had ever been to Patton’s room) and Patton was beside himself to have him here.

“Absolutely! I just like to keep a few sentimental things around to look at when I’m feeling down,” Patton replied. “But I guess it uh, wouldn’t hurt to clean up a little. Gotta make room for more memories, right? I actually have the energy to do it now!”

Virgil looked at Patton with a lopsided grin. “Wait, what? You, not having the energy to do something? How’d that happen?”

“Ah right, you weren’t here for uh … all of that. Let’s just say I was recovering from an injury I got several months ago,” Patton said, instantly noting the worried change in Virgil’s expression. “Hold on, it’s alright, I’m alright now, see?” He lifted his shirt to showcase the few tiny cracks that remained. “I’m almost completely healed. Logan even gave me his seal of approval!” He pulled out a little medallion with Logan’s bespectacled brain signet on it. “See?”

Virgil breathed out a visible sigh of relief. He shook a finger at Patton. “Awesome,” he said, his voice cracking a little at the end.

“Alright, so you said you were looking for …” Patton started.

“… this one angsty poem Thomas wrote in high school. I thought I’d uh, spice the ruminating up a little when Thomas heads to bed tonight,” Virgil replied. “No better way to fall asleep than thinking about everything that’s gone wrong or that will go wrong, am I right?”

Patton smiled. “Sure, kiddo, as long as they’re balanced with happier thoughts during the daytime! Let’s see, I think what you’re looking for is over here.” He ran toward his version of the staircase that was piled high with boxes and other larger memorabilia that wouldn’t fit on the bookshelf. He glanced through a few of them, perking up a little when he came to the box on the fourth stair. “I think this is it!” He grabbed the box and ran back to Virgil.

“Keep them as long as you need them,” Patton said with a smile. He handed it over to Virgil, who nearly doubled over from the weight of the things inside. Virgil choked out a thanks and quickly sank out.

“Well, that’s one box temporarily dealt with. Now, about the rest of this marvelous mountain of memories …” Patton, though he would never outrightly admit it, didn’t like moving things around very much. It filled him with dread just thinking about moving something somewhere he would inevitably forget about it. Maybe it would be better to start smaller? He looked around for somewhere less cluttered to start. Finally, his eyes landed on the overflowing box labeled New Memories. “That’ll do for now.” He took the box carefully upstairs to his bedroom and got to work sorting its contents.

In around half an hour, everything was categorized into neat little piles that could be easily transferred to other more fitting storage spaces. Patton began collecting everything from the Friends and Coworkers pile and carried them to his dresser. The top drawer was for everything related to Joan. Admittedly, this one was getting a little bloated from all the fun stuff they and Thomas had ever done together. Still, Patton managed to find space for the newer memories in the crevices that remained. The rest made their way into their respective drawers, packed in tightly with all the rest of them.

Patton closed the drawers, smiled, and put his hands on his hips. “Perfect!” he said. Now all that was left was to take the box back to his version of the living room. He picked the box up and startled when it hissed at him. Something was still in there. He peeked into the box at the thing that had just slid toward him, an upside-down picture frame from the looks of it. Steadying the box with one hand, he reached in and flipped it over.

The last memory he had of Thomas’s now ex-boyfriend stared up at him from the bottom of the box.

His hands trembled a little as he stared at this frighteningly still image. “Nope nope nope, not today,” he said, closing the box and walking as quickly as he could to put it back where it belonged. Despite ridding himself of the visual, this memory was still going to make itself heard in the only way it knew how. Patton clutched at his chest hard and the box crashed to the living room floor. “N-not again …”

He sat down on the stairs a moment to regain control of his breathing. Searing lines thrummed in time with his heartbeat, dulled but not forgotten. This was another reason why he never bothered to clean up: too much of a chance to reopen old wounds. Patton rose with a wince to get that recording of the Rainforest Rap. That song always helped cheer him up. He kept the song on repeat until he felt some semblance of normalcy again.

For the rest of the week, Patton lay awake during the nights, praying that the darkness would somehow take away the memories that hurt him so. It, as many spectral entities do, provided no such reprieve. Certainly not enough to quell the ache settling further into his core as the days passed. Taking liberties in his duties here and there made things far more manageable. Just yesterday, Patton suggested Thomas indulge in a half a pack of Oreos and he listened. The day before, he had come thiiiiiis close to getting an actual bouncy castle! And today, Patton had one little plan he thought everyone would jump for (but not in a bouncy castle).

If everything went according to Patton’s plan, they would spend the next 48 hours rewatching The Office in a blanket fort with Thomas’s closest friends. They could all use a break right about now, what with Roman steamrolling through coming up with new concepts, Logan pulling all-nighters researching for new videos, and Virgil making sure everyone was staying on time with Logan’s schedule. He couldn’t wait to see how everyone else liked this idea! He was already out the door and nearly to the stairs when he heard muffled shouting coming from the living room below.

“—not seriously thinking of going along with this latest plan, are you? I have far too much to plan if we’re to keep this project at its utmost quality!”

Patton stopped dead in his tracks at the top of the stairs.

“I know, Roman, I’m concerned about this, too. We’re woefully behind schedule as it is,” Logan added. “If we don’t do something about this, my carefully constructed calendar will collapse under the weight of his impulse decisions.”

“But how are we even supposed to bring that up to him? He’s been acting weird all week, I know,” Virgil bit, “but you know how Pat takes these things, L.” Patton bit his lip to keep from making noise as the cracks grew once more.

“The best way to do that is to do like you said earlier Virgil, rip it off like a metaphorical Bandaid. This isn’t the first time we’ve had to do this.”

So. Patton had gone overboard these past few days with his contributions.

How many other times had he put the other sides in this exact same situation? They were all supposed to be in this together. Weren’t they …?

There was only one way to fix this. Fixing his cardigan and his expression, Patton plodded heavily down the stairs to announce his arrival. “Hey kiddos! Oh, good, you’re all here together, that’ll save me a few trips back upstairs,” he said cheerily.

“Don’t tell us, Padre, you have another idea?” Roman asked. His smile looked so forced.

“Kinda! So I was just thinking that since we are so behind schedule, a 2 day binge-fest might not be the greatest idea I’ve come up with. So instead of that, how about we work on this next concept together tonight?”

Jaws all around the room dropped. “Wait, what? I thought …” said Virgil, looking to the others.

Roman picked up where Virgil left off, “Patton, I believe that’s the best idea you’ve had all week!” He stepped closer. “How shall we go about it? At the dumb boring regular table here, or at the Round Table in the Imagination to help stimulate all the best thoughts?”

“Hmm, that’s intriguing, Roman. It would certainly be easier than trying to keep track of all our thoughts on paper,” Logan added.

“Hey Logan, I guess you say it’s a …” Patton started.

Logan’s eyes widened. “No.”

“Oh, this’ll be good,” Virgil snickered.

“… well-Round-ed idea,” said Patton.

Virgil and Roman couldn’t help smiling watching this play out. Logan groaned. “I will ignore that this one time because you made a worthwhile effort to get us back on schedule, but I do hope that you’ll spend a little more time thinking about what words you want to arrange in a sentence. And make them less … pun-filled.”

“I’ll try not to have too much pun, but I can’t make any promises!” Patton said.

Logan said nothing further, opting instead to vacate the premises as quickly as possible. “I’ll uh, go with him and we’ll get everything set up in the Imagination,” said Roman, running after him.

“Well, I guess that just leaves you and me, kiddo! Whaddaya say we make some snacks for everyone? We’ve got a lot of work ahead of us today!”

Virgil nodded. “As long as I can spit on something meant for Roman,” he said.

“I’ll let you have the cookie batter bowl,” Patton replied.

“Deal.”

Between the two of them, Patton and Virgil were able to make somewhat quick work of a heaping plate of hot cookies and several plates of sandwiches for everyone to enjoy. Sure, they may have gotten more flour and other assorted foodstuffs on them than into the finished products on the counter, but it was the fun they had doing it that mattered. Both of them decided that it would be best to change out of their dirty clothes before carrying everything into the Imagination.

Patton sunk into his version of the kitchen, which was considerably more cluttered than the common area kitchen. He stepped over a few stray memories before making it into the clearer living room. That was when he noticed Deceit sitting on his couch worrying his gloved hands. Softly, Patton called out, “Dee?”

Deceit startled and turned quickly to see Patton. “Um,” he said, clearing his throat and brushing down the front of his cloak, “you certainly didn’t sneak up on me.”

“What brings you back to my neck of the ‘burbs?” asked Patton.

Deceit stood from the couch. “We’re just getting so well acquainted that I thought I’d stop by for tea— and to give a warning. I know they’ve been growing again.”

Patton smiled sadly. “I guess I can’t really hide this from you. But you should know, this time—”

“It’s not their fault, I’m well aware. But doesn’t this make it the best time to tell them? The pressure is off. You don’t even have to tell them in a direct way!” Deceit said, taking Patton’s hands in his own. His eyes were alight with worry. “You just need to tell them.”

“I know I need to, but … it’s so hard to do. I’d be hurting them, I know I would.”

Deceit looked down and sighed. He brought his gaze quickly back up to Patton’s, staring with an intensity that Patton had never seen from him before. “You need to tell them,” he whispered slowly. “I saw something on the horizon. Something bad. As much as it pains me to say it, I don’t want that vision to be about you.”

That was a bit startling. Patton knew it wouldn’t get that far, but … could it? “Okay,” he said. “I’ll tell them.” That earned him a split-second smile from Deceit.

“That’ll do, Patton. That’ll do. What in the world is on my gloves?” Deceit said, sinking out.

“Cookie dough!” Patton called after him. “And probably some mayo. Oh, he probably didn’t hear me. Now what was I doing again? Oh yeah, clothes, brainstorming, Imagination!” He quickly ran upstairs to the bathroom to get changed and emerged from his room less than a minute later and grabbed what food Virgil hadn’t. Maybe if he busied himself enough, he would be able to forget Deceit’s visit. He wouldn’t think about the panic behind his crumbling facade, or the thinly veiled pleas he made.

But that would all be a lie. Something had him deeply troubled, and when Deceit was the one giving out a warning in earnest, it bode better to listen. But how to go about it? Patton sighed. “Alright, Patton, let’s just focus on getting to the others right now,” he said to himself. He closed his eyes and thought about the others, and about castles, knights, and everything that made Roman happy.

When he opened them again, he was in the Imagination.

Or rather, he was in a field in the Imagination, right in front of Roman’s towering castle. It was a perfect amalgamation of Gothic architecture and pure Disney magic that made Patton’s nostalgia meter burst through the roof. He ran through the front gates with appropriate gusto and was thrilled to see the others there around the table already, quietly chatting amongst themselves. “Ah, Patton, we were starting to think you forgot how to get here again. Come, let us formally begin this brainstorming bash!” Roman said cheerily.

“That’s the spirit!” Patton squealed, trying to sound as normal as possible. He set down the cookie platter and took a seat in the high-backed chair with his new symbol on it.

“First things first, let’s make sure we’re all on the same page before we begin,” Logan said, summoning papers for all of them. “In order to maximize our output, Roman, Virgil, and I have decided to remove some of the thought filters from the castle for this session. This means that any particular thought, if it’s focused enough, will manifest in here for all of us to review. According to my own independent research, this should boost our productivity by 42% with a .03% margin of error.”

Patton’s eyes widened a little. He really didn’t want to interrupt their work, but this new system would definitely cause problems if he didn’t come clean now. So, Patton gathered every last bit of gumption that he had and shouted, “I have a confession to make!”

The others backed up a little, startled that Patton could be so loud, but quickly recomposed themselves. “Go ahead, Patton,” said Logan, straightening his tie.

Patton thanked him, doing his best to not squirm in his seat. He knew they wouldn’t react well, but maybe saying it now would keep thoughts about it from popping up later. “I uh, wanted to get this out of the way before we get down to business. But um … I think I might be breaking again.”

“Come again?” Virgil asked.

Patton slid the collar of his shirt down enough to reveal several deep fissures. “These things. They’re growing again,” he said. “Started earlier this week. I just didn’t want that popping up without warning and ruining our work. Anyways, um, what ideas are we working with here, Roman?”

“Wait, breaking? Like, breaking breaking? Oh God, Patton, are you dying? You’re dying, aren’t you? Oh God, no! What stops death?! Logan?!” Virgil cried frantically.

Patton quickly said, “Virgil, Virgil, breathe, I’m not dying. In for four seconds, there you go, hold it for seven seconds. You’re doing great. Just listen to the sound of my voice. Out for eight. Good job, keep it up.”

Logan got out a pen and notepad. “Again? And you say they started earlier this week? Do you remember which day it was?” he asked.

“The day I started cleaning up my room. Uh, what day was that again?” Patton said, still doing his best to softly coach Virgil back down to a calmer state.

“Padre … I thought there weren’t going to be any more secrets about this,” said Roman. The hurt look he gave to Patton about killed him where he sat.

“It wasn’t so much a secret as it was an ‘I-got-a-little-busy-and-kept-forgetting’ kind of thing. I never meant to keep it from you, any of you,” Patton replied. A tiny, glowing orb dripped from Patton’s chest. A thought. He pushed it down between his hand and the seat to trap it, knowing that it would unveil his lie. For good measure, he slung a leg over his hand.

“You were cleaning that day…” Logan mused. “I may have some theories that explain this phenomenon, though it is currently up to speculation. Allow me to elaborate. Patton, it seems that stressing yourself beyond your limits could potentially be the cause of this. You have certainly been going out of your way with your work this week. I believe we all recall the … bouncy castle idea. This could be leading to a lack of self-care needed to perform adequately.”

Patton nodded slowly with as real a smile as he could muster. “Yyyyyeah, that could be it,” he said, shoving down another treacherous thought as it popped out. It brought up memories of all the passing comments Logan made about his character.

“Uh, Pops? Whatcha … doin’ over there?” Virgil asked.

Patton stiffened. “Nothing, just, uh … Practicing a new kind of exercise?” Another one flitted out, pointing to being too overbearing with Virgil. “Hey, is that a dragon coming up to the castle?”

Everyone turned to look while Patton conjured a slingshot, flung that icky thought out the other window. and recaptured the one that had come out from beneath his leg.

“No, that’s a tapestry, Padre. It literally couldn’t hurt you if it wanted to,” Roman said. “Not that I would ever let it!”

Patton smiled. “You’re my hero, Roman,” he said.

Roman blushed a little to that. “Aw, Pat,” he gushed.

Another thought came up, a memory of a time Roman had taken him on one of his adventures. He had wanted to tend to a little wounded animal they came across and nearly got them killed because of it. Patton clapped his hand painfully over his heart to keep that one from surfacing. With a whimper and a slight grimace, he replied, “I mean it, Ro.”

Virgil was getting extremely antsy where he sat. “Okay, um … This is weird, right? Like, this just feels wrong.”

“Virgil has a point, you are behaving rather strangely, Patton,” said Logan. “Do you have something you’d like to add?”

With the focus being on what started this, another memory surfaced. The one that had started it again. Patton tried to bite that one as it meandered past. Curse these full hands! He missed by a mile, leaving it to float effortlessly to the center of the table.

“A thought?” Logan said. “Unconventional, but it’s an intriguing choice.”

It began to play. Patton was in his room, sorting through the new memories box. The last few were being tucked away. It skipped to him looking back in the box to see what was left. It showed him, holding the picture. Him, clutching his chest. Him, stumbling to the floor. As if on cue, the cracks thrummed in recognition. Thank goodness he already had a hand over them because it almost took his breath away. The memory evaporated, leaving the others to simply look with jaws slightly agape.

Patton could only look down at the table. These old wounds were reopening in the worst of ways, and now his closest friends would find out the truth. Logan finally broke the silence. “So, that’s how it happened.”

Patton nodded wordlessly.

“This was months ago,” Logan said.

“It was a busy time for me,” Virgil added. “Switching from everything Thomas did wrong to worrying that Thomas will never find love again got to be so exhausting.”

“I admit even I became a bit disheveled by his absence,” Logan said, looking down.

“I nearly ducked out over this. I can’t imagine what that must’ve been like for you, Patton,” said Roman.

Patton still couldn’t bring himself to look up. He knew there were pent up tears threatening to fall if he did. “It … it was hard … and seeing a reminder of it …” he whispered.

Logan sighed. “I believe your best course of action is clear,” he said. “You simply need to let the past be the past.”

“But … what about all of the good times we had with him? I don’t want to leave them behind,” Patton said softly.

“Patton, these memories are physically hurting you. I can’t understand why you would rather suffer endlessly instead of just letting one person go.”

You’re too sentimental to save yourself from dying.

Patton’s face contorted and a small whine escaped his throat. Those insidious cracks lengthened once more, each one feeling like a knife tracing its way through his skin.

Roman stood abruptly. “Now look what you’ve done, Quantum of Soulless!” Roman cried, motioning to Patton. Logan rose from his seat, trying to get a better look from across the table.

“Roman …” Patton lightly scolded. “Pl-please be nice.”

Roman huffed. “Sorry. What I mean is this situation needs a bit more delicacy than Logan’s robotic demeanor could ever hope to provide.” Roman walked over to Patton and put a hand gently on his arm. Logan was making his way over, too, notepad in hand. “Now Padre, you know how much I came to you when this was all fresh. We did our best to hold each other up, but even now, I still feel lost. I can’t tell you how much I yearn to have our beloved return, or how much I want to call him after all this time.”

Patton sniffled a little, putting his hand over Roman’s and leaning his head against his arm. “I know, I want him back too,” he said.

“I think we all do. But I think it might also be time to start boxing up some of those old memories. We can even help you start!” Roman said. Virgil shook his head. Logan rolled his eyes. “Okay, I can help you start.”

“But I don’t want to forget … I wouldn’t even know where, or how, to start. We had so many good memories together that I don’t want to lose,” Patton blubbered.

“I know it’s difficult, but we aren’t children anymore, Padre. I know the relationship ending was for the best and I’ve been striving every day to remain strong. I also know that you wouldn’t be leaving everything behind if you do the adult thing and let the ghosts of the past go.”

You’re too naive to understand what needs to be done.

Patton doubled over, groaning as the cracks split further down his limbs and up his neck. Bile burned at the back of his throat, and he could taste the coppery twang of essence. He felt another wary hand on him. “P-Pops?” came Virgil’s wavering voice. “I… Thomas was being too overbearing. That wasn’t your fault!”

YOU were being too overbearing. YOU were what drove him away.

Patton cried out in agony as his skin split down to his fingertips and over his face to the top of his head. Small chips of skin were beginning to fall away with tiny tinks as they hit the floor, displaying the bright blue beneath. He could feel the front of his shirt begin to dampen.

“I don’t get it! We’re trying to help, why isn’t this working?” Virgil cried. “Why are they getting worse?!”

Logan came up to Patton, attempting to lean him back with utmost care. “Perhaps just talking about the subject of his pain is what’s causing them to worsen,” he said. As soon as he looked at the frail fatherly side, his demeanor changed. “Virgil, get a first aid kit. Roman, help me lay him on the table. Now!”

The others, at first too stunned to move, burst into action as quickly as they could. Patton screamed as they repositioned him on the table, hyperventilating from the pain. “Hang in there, Padre, please hang in there!” came Roman’s muffled voice. Logan was reaching for the hem of his shirt. He mouthed something to him. Patton felt something glide across his skin from his navel to his neck. Wait, when did Logan get scissors? And where was his shirt? And why did the others look so horrified? Those questions seemed inconsequential to the truth staring down at Patton, demanding he tell it.

“It w-was my fault,” Patton croaked.

Logan started threading a needle. Virgil was carding his fingers through Patton’s hair anxiously. Roman looked at him with incredulous eyes. “What are you talking about?” asked Roman.

“Th-the breakup,” Patton replied. Warmth was trickling down over his ribcage and soaking his back. “A-and everything e-else.” Logan tried his best to stick the needle through solid skin, but it just chipped further. Patton coughed, a bit of blue making its way past his lips.

“Everything else? Patton, you’re not making sense,” Logan said, trying the same thing again with the same result.

Patton whimpered, “I-I know that I’m always … messing th-things up. I forget s-so much … I kn-know that you think I’m t-too sentimental t-to do my job. Th-that I’m too … naive t-to see the truth right in … front of me. That I’m s-so over … o-overbearing that I drove him away. If it w-weren’t for … all of you t-to rein me in … I-I’d make Thomas into a… w-worthless mass of a man.”

You are worthless.

“C-Compression. Let’s try compression,” Logan said.

“Pat … is this … is this what caused all of this?” Roman asked. His eyes shimmered.

“You can’t seriously think that,” Virgil said, his hands becoming shaky.

Patton cried as Logan pressed firmly in the center of his chest. More fragments broke free and with them, Logan’s hands went straight through into Patton’s chest. Patton nearly passed out. Logan quickly withdrew his hands.

“Ohhhh my God, oh my God, Logan, what did you do?!” shouted Virgil. “What do we do now?!”

Patton coughed violently, essence spluttering from his lips in a steady stream.

Logan could only stand there, frozen in horror, staring at his blue hands.

“Logan?!” Roman cried.

“I … I don’t know …” came Logan’s voice, barely above a whisper. Silent tears streamed down his cheeks.

“You can’t die on us, Patton, please, we need you!” Virgil sobbed.

Roman grasped Patton’s hand delicately. It began to shatter like porcelain barely held together. Despite the jagged edges, Roman still lifted it to his cheek, holding on like it was the only anchor in a violent sea. “Y-you’ll … all be … alright … without me … Just … p-promise me … y-you won’t … blame yourselves …” Patton gasped.

He couldn’t hold it together when bigger pieces of him began breaking away from the rest of his body. He couldn’t scream. He couldn’t hear.

He couldn’t see. But still, his mouth made the words.

“I… l-love… you.”

With a final shuddering breath, he was gone.

---

Janus knew that meddling with what his foresight told him never aided the outcome.

He knew this, but he tried anyway.

It wasn’t that he particularly liked Patton. He found him to be overly saccharine and ridiculously optimistic in the face of surefire doom, not to mention he stood by socks and sandals as a fashion choice. However, things always seemed to run smoother in the Mindscape with the fatherly side around. Someone had to be there to tend to the others and moderate their senseless bickering, he supposed. How would anyone get any sleep otherwise? And Patton wasn’t one to pass judgement when he was caught alone. Perhaps his near-blind acceptance was what endeared Janus to him in the first place.

Whatever the case, he didn’t want whatever was going to happen to go through like it wanted to. He could never determine much from these visions. Just … feelings. Notions. The occasional coherent thought. This most recent one should’ve been par for the course. Nothing could’ve prepared him for what came. He couldn’t breathe. He felt like he was being ripped apart. And there was nothing else around but the pain, searing a fiery blue, and those three intrepid words.

I love you.

A swan song if there ever was one. And now, standing here amongst the shadows outside Roman’s castle, he knew the swan had sung.

Taglist: @celeste-tyrrell @taxicabinmemphis @angeldiaries @somehow-i-got-an-account

[deltastorm101]

So, I tried to calculate Control...

... and its Epic Games deal, with the help of my certified smooth brain™ and probably incorrect sources. I started this last night hella tired and with a headache, I have finished it up today hella tired and with a headache, and this is what I produced: bullshit! :D But hey, at least double checked bullshit that’s open for discussion and contribution and expansion. Also, I probably won’t list the sources because a) I’m lazy and b) I didn’t have to dig thaaat deep down to find all this so if you really wanna know you could probably hit google with it as well. Anyhow here we go lol So, the initial thought which got all of this rolling was the 2020-wrap-up-post Remedy linked on their twitter, and Epic’s linked publishing announcement in it: studios Remedy, Playdead and GenDesign will release their next next-gen games with Epic. Now, we all know Remedy are working on some sort of Alan Wake-ish thing as we speak (right? right?? god I hope so), which meanssss our boy will most likely be an Epic exclusive. Which makes me kinda sad because, well. I’m deep in Steam’s ass. Hell, I waited for Control for a full year before I played it because they can pry the Steam version from my cold dead hands. So I asked myself... was it worth it for them? How much money did they throw at Remedy (and 505 Games) to have them play along? Would they have reached more people from the get-go if they had released it on Steam right away? Did the individual programmer, designer, writer, artist, person behind it profit from this at all? (Also, like, about the rights and copyright thing,,,,, you’d think they could have learned from Alan Wake and its IP belonging to Microsoft and so not really being able to do anything more with it because they don’t ‘own’ it and shit) buuut anyway that’s not the point of this post, now it’s time to do some MATH BABEY

Ok, let’s start with some things we know. Facts. Figures. Data. Turns out my initial question, how much money was involved, could be answered by doing one (1) google search: according to Wikipedia, Epic gave Remedy and 505 Games €9.49mio. The total budget for the game was €26.9mio over the course of 3 years of development. We know that as of December 2020, over 2mio copies of the game were sold, with November 2020 being the best-selling month ever since its initial release in August 2019. This is where question 1) comes into play: how many of those 2 million copies were sold in 2019 and how many in 2020? Stay tuned, I think I found out.

We know that Remedy gets to keep 45% of the revenue, which, I assumed, means that 505 keeps the remaining 55% (probably a lot more going on there but shhh). We know that Control’s sales cooked up €17.84mio in 2019 (so months September – December), €17.7mio of those in the first month alone (O.O). Side note: because it came out at the very end of August, I’ll ignore that month and declare September the first sales month.

We know that 60% of sales in 2019 were digital ones (aka Epic Store, mostly), 40% physical ones (consoles PS4 and XB1), while in 2020, only 10% of sales were physical and a whopping 90% digital; which is people on Epic who wanted to get their hands on the first DLC and – you guessed it – the Steam release of the Ultimate Edition in August 2020.

Which begs question 2): what’s bigger, 60% of 2019 sales because ‘ooh shiny new game’, or 90% of 2020 sales because ‘yay steam release’? The answer may look obvious, but you have to take into account the dropping price, which I also researched for your pleasure and enjoyment.

For this I used a German website called idealo.de, which focuses on looking for the best deals for basically anything you can buy on the internet, and it also gives you diagrams that describe at which point in time the product was at which exact price. This is what it gave me: - release price: €60 - December 2019: €41 (PS4)/€44 (XB1) - mid-2020: €30 - Ultimate Edition release: €30 - December 2020: €14 (PS4)/€18 (XB1)/€30 (Ultimate Editions) At this point I was like “lol hold on i need chocolate for this cuz i’ll be here for some time *sweating*”

To continue this mess™, I see more questions: 3) How many employees does Remedy have, which positions do they work in and what are their salaries? 4) How many employees does 505 have, which positions and salaries do they have? 5) What’s the total revenue that Control has generated so far?

And also some more stuff like, are my numbers accurate, am I even grasping these concepts correctly, are there even more people involved or am I just trying to explain complete crap (yes) but let’s just ignore all of that shall we. At that point I went “oh shit what have i gotten myself into, this screen does not get my point across, i need pen and paper” and you know shit is gonna go DOWN when I do math on paper.

My paper math birthed the following calculation:

Following this up, we can calculate the end-of-2019 sales, if we set the price for September and October to €60, for November and December to approx. €45:

Now, you might notice that one of those numbers is big and the other is HUGE. Why might that be? Well...

- Covid19: everyone stayed at home and needed video games to play - More sale months of the year, naturally - dropping price: why get it for €60 when you can get it for 20 - Ultimate Edition: why buy it in June when you get more content in August aaaand... - it comes out on Steam.

With this in mind, let’s see what questions we can answer: 1) 661,110 copies in 2019; 1,338,889 copies in 2020 2) 60% digital sales in 2019 means 396,666 Epic copies; 90% digital sales in 2020 means 1,205,000 copies – most of it from Steam? Some of it? A good chunk? The bigger chunk? There’s no way of really knowing for sure but... you could read this into it. I definitely am. 3) Google told me Remedy had a little over 250 employees at the end of 2019... 4) ... and 505 has less than 100. I found no good sources for this, I think linkedin said 37, someone else said 50. I’ll just use the 50 figure, idk. No idea man. and for 5) I’ll contradict my point that the Steam release is what knocked the sales out of the park and assume that the number of sold copies stayed the same across all 12 months of 2020, which gives us this:

Ok and now we’re getting into the most dangerous of danger zones because I have no idea how companies or capitalism work, so for educated people™, the remaining calculations might read like a toddler wrote them; I apologize profusely and hereby present last night’s brain vomit:

As stated earlier, development took 3 years, but everyone wanted to get paid in 2020 as well so let’s use 4 years to find out the salaries, which is 48 months. Let’s assume the utopian idea that every employee on the line here gets the exact same amount of money (LOL ikr but shhhh, let’s live out our dirtiest equality fantasies for a second ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)). Which would mean...

And now without the Epic Deal™:

Quod erat demonstrandum. Remedy has been selling their souls to Epic for €350 a month since 2017. (I don’t mean this as maliciously as I’m making it sound, don’t worry xD)

OKAY SO, O B V I O U S L Y, I have not the slightest idea what on earth I’m talking about so read this like you’d read a good fanfiction. We don’t know the different salaries across the different positions (and genders HAH), we don’t know if other parties were involved, I’ve completely ignored the sum that Epic themselves get, I have ignored taxes, I don’t know if my numbers are accurate (they’re definitely not I mean 505 must have more employees than 50), if I made mistakes (yes), and also somewhere along the way I forgot to use the €26.9mio budget figure because, uuh, I have no idea where to use it, what it means, where did it come from, where did it go, cotton eye joe - but oh well, I’m not starting over, take it or leave it.

So... I can now officially say I have written hot steamy economics fic xD Man I put waaay too much time into this but damn was it fun. Good three-hour-deep-dive (two of them spent munching on chocolate half-asleep listening to psytrance to keep my brain twitchy). Real-life-theorizing. Fuck capitalism. Don’t do drugs. Pet a cat. Wear your mask. Call your grandparents.

If there’s typos in this I’m sorry but also I’m not, I can’t be bothered to proofread again lol. Goodnight imma catch up on the sleep I lost. Gotta love full moons

[omoi-no-hoka]

Hey! I saw your blog today and I love it very much!! I see you're an open person so, I also have a question: HOW does one survive studying japanese at uni?? I'm in my first year and only my second (online haha) semester and we started out with Minna no nihongo 1 but we're supposed to finish Minna 2 by the end of this semester, same with Basic Kanji book 1 in the first sem and now Basic Kanji Book 2, all while also learning mostly of Japan's history and others in this semester. Exams will kill me

Hello! I’m glad you’re enjoying my blog! I am open to a fault lol. Let me recount my meandering journey through uni, illustrating my feelings through gifs of Noel Fielding because he is my celebrity crush.

Uni is such a difficult time for so many people, trying to figure out who you are now and who you want to be later. It wasn’t until my senior year that I realized what I wanted to do. I started writing out my university experience and it got super long, so allow me to just summarize my “Lessons Learned” here and you can read the rest if you want to know all the dirty deets lol. I double-majored in Japanese and English, so I think that my experience can perhaps be useful to people who are majoring in things other than Japanese as well. 

Hard-Learned Lessons from Uni

Do not choose a course of study because it is “practical.” Choose it because it is something you love. Seriously. Nothing is more important than this point. Do not choose a major because “I’ll make a lot of money” or “My parents are telling me this is good for me.” 

If you are learning multiple languages at once, you must give your brain time to organize what you learned from one language lesson before moving on to the next. You can do this by waiting a couple hours between lessons, getting up and walking around, studying one language in different space from the other, etc. Otherwise, it all becomes a terrible mess in your head.

It’s okay not to know what you want your career to be. It’s okay not to have a specific plan. Life works out one way or the other.

I know how expensive uni can be. (It’s been six years since I graduated and I’m still making hefty loan payments.) But don’t feel like you have to take a full courseload every single semester and graduated asap, particularly if the classes are hard and/or you are working. I took the maximum credit hours allowed every semester on top of working RIDICULOUS hours and it nearly killed me at one point. I’m not kidding. 

It is not unusual to have an identity crisis and/or mental breakdown. Take care of yourself. Know when you are nearing breaking point. Seek out the help of professionals. Most universities have psychiatrists and therapists that will see you very cheaply. 

Surround yourself with good people and look out for each other. 

Do not rely on substances to ease your suffering because sometimes the remedy becomes the malady. Not saying you should avoid all parties or anything square like that, but just don’t be one of those people that parties every night and gets in over their head. 

Let me preface this by stating that I’m an American, and our universities are stupid because they force us to take a ton of “general education” courses that are irrelevant to our majors, and many students spend their first couple years taking only a couple courses related to their majors and minors, and try to focus on getting those stupid gen eds out of the way. 

Year 1: Oh Shit, This Is Harder Than I Thought It Would Be

I come from a town of less than 2600 people. Our high school prepared its students for the following career paths:

joining the military (boys only)

becoming a farmer (boys only)

welding, carpentry, or other practical jobs (boys only)

becoming a housewife (girls only)

So basically I coasted through high school never having to study anything because it was one great big joke, only I thought I was like super duper smart because I was in the top five of my graduating class of 48. LOLLLLLLLLL

I entered university as a German major, Japanese minor. (Japanese was not offered as a major at my uni). I had never studied German previously, but I studied Spanish and French in high school and I just had this feeling that German and Japanese were the languages for me. 

The first semester, I had Japanese 101 and German 101 back to back, in the EXACT SAME CLASSROOM. I can’t stress enough how much of a mindfuck it was to go from thinking about Japanese for 50 minutes, having a 10 minute break, and then trying to switch your brain to German. IN THE SAME ROOM. It actually gave me headaches to try and make that mental jump. Managed to pull through the year with A’s in both, but German was much more of a challenge to me than Japanese. Which was really unexpected. 

I also flunked several gen eds because I didn’t give a shit about them and skipped them and got placed on academic probation and was nearly kicked out of uni because of my poor grades

Basically, I was such a weeb that I had watched enough anime with subtitles and sung along to enough anime songs that I had absorbed about 90% of the first year’s worth of Japanese vocab and grammar through osmosis. I really did have the power of God and anime on my side.

Year 2: The Year of the Mid-Midlife Crisis and Mental Breakdown

There really is no gif that will encapsulate the level of turmoil I went through that year. I looked really hard for one, trust me.

It became apparent very quickly that I could not keep up with German. I ended up dropping it early in the first semester, which meant I had to choose a new major. Thinking of what would be practical to pair with a Japanese minor, I went for International Business for a semester, took Accounting, and realized that I HATE The Man, corporate bullshit, and also numbers as a concept.

All I knew at this point was that I liked Japanese but couldn’t make it a major. I also knew I didn’t want to transfer universities. So I kept taking gen eds, just barely passing them because to this day I cannot bring myself to put effort into something I do not care about, and also taking more classes related to my Japanese minor. It was the Japanese classes that saved my GPA and kept me from getting kicked out of uni.

At the same time, I took a creative writing course because that’s been a hobby of mine since elementary school, and I kinda thought about an English major, but then was like, “Eww I don’t wanna be forced to read books I don’t give a shit about. And also, what will I do with that degree?”

Also, at the same time, I was working full time, and often getting stuck working from 2 pm to 7 am (Yes, 15-hour shifts, because the overnight dude would call in sick last minute and I’d be begged to cover his shift), and then dragging myself to classes and drooling on the desks because I’d fall asleep.

Also also, I started to have possible hallucinations? To this day I don’t know what was going on, but either I was legitimately going crazy, or there was a demon following me around and being quite rude to me, making light fixtures fall and shatter inches from my head, throwing papers around my room, opening and closing doors, turning lights off and on, coming to me in dreams and doing some really, really traumatic things to me in them, and just standing in corners staring at me at all hours of the night. Had me so scared that towards the end of the school year I was waiting to sleep until sunrise, when it would go away. And no, I was not using any mind-altering substances of any sort. Not even going out and getting drunk. 

So, yeah. Year Two was a hard one that I can’t believe I pushed through. Probably the darkest year of my life, I’d say. What got me through it? An unhealthy amount of energy drinks, friends, and my love of Japanese. Also Aerosmith.

Do I still see that demon? No. He vanished when the school year ended and I moved out of the dorms. Do I believe in the supernatural? Yes, to an extent. Do I think that what I was seeing was actually a demon? I honestly don’t know. I have had actual supernatural experiences verified by multiple witnesses, and a few years before Year 2, several friends and myself had seen an entity similar to what was following me around. But this one in Year 2 only did things when I was alone. So it could have all been in my head, and I will never know. 

Since then, I have been diagnosed with general anxiety and also a form of insomnia that keeps me from sleeping through the night, and I know that my anxiety manifests itself in psychosomatic ways. In other words, my mind will take my anxiety and turn it into a physical symptom that feels real in every way, but is actually not occurring. So far it’s manifested as: sensitivity to sunlight, the symptoms of a stroke or heart attack, half of my face going numb, and headaches in my left eye. Once I realize that the symptom is just my anxiety, I can force myself to ignore and overcome it. But then my anxiety finds a new form to manifest, and the cycle repeats a few months later. It could be that my stress caused me to see this demon for a while.

Should I have consulted a psychiatrist and gotten help? YEP. If you find yourself struggling like that, seek help please. 💕

Year 3: Adrift But Afloat

I moved out of the dorms and into an apartment with my best friend, a Japanese girl I met in the dorms freshman year. I will call her Setsuko. Setsuko is basically the reason I graduated uni. She memorized my class schedules and took copies of exam dates, woke me up, forced me to go classes instead of skipping, forced me to go to the library and study with her, and cooked me dinner most days since she didn’t have to work like I did. I can’t express enough how much she did to improve my life outside of school and work, and how much that improved my mental health. She also acclimated me to lots of subtle things about Japanese culture just by living with her, and this helped me later when I moved to Japan. Thank you, Setsuko. 一生の恩人。

I was still doing those bullshit 15-hour overnight shifts way more than I should have, and also had the maximum courseload.

The Japanese classes got a lot more difficult in Year 3. But I loved them. They were the only classes I never skipped. I took more classes towards the minor like Buddhist Philosophy and Japanese History, which I really enjoyed. While polishing off more gen eds, I thought over what to do with my major. 

My family and friends all told me that I should become an English teacher. I had always been good at words and at explaining things. But I didn’t really like the idea of being a high school teacher. I became an English major, though, because I knew that I didn’t hate English. Took grammar classes and HOLY SHIT did I hit my stride.

I realized that I didn’t like English lit. I liked linguistics. So I focused heavily on all grammar and linguistics courses, taking the bare minimum of literature courses required for the major. My GPA improved substantially. 

Yet I still was consumed with this nagging fear. It was Year 3 and I still had no fucking idea what I wanted to do when I graduated.

Year 4: Clarity At The 11th Hour

Urged on by my “Don’t you dare get one of those stupid arts degrees that won’t get you a paycheck” parents, I decided that the most “practical” degree would not be “English,” but “English Education.” I began taking the English Ed classes with linguistics, grammar, and second language acquisition classes. The goal was to become a qualified English high school teacher who could also do ESL (since I had Spanish and Japanese under my belt more or less). 

At the same time, I entered into Independent Study for Japanese with two other students. We were tasked with reading Izu no Odoriko, a classic short story. Independent study was its own beast. It required a lot more concentration and work on my part, obviously. But because Japanese was my first and foremost passion, I centered my efforts on those courses, and then on the others.

The process of getting certified to be an English teacher was lengthy and expensive in my state. This meant my graduation would be further prolonged, and I was worried about money, because I was already about $50,000 in debt at the time, despite working those fucking overnight shifts all the time that were eating me alive.

Then, during the summer vacation when my 4th year ended, I got a scholarship and went to Japan to study abroad. Education majors had the option to study abroad in several countries, and as luck would have it, one of them was Japan, and it was Setsuko’s HOMETOWN! The study abroad program itself was the first month of summer vacation, and Setsuko said, “Okay, just come stay at my house for the rest of summer vacation!”

Never have I said “yes” quicker in my entire life.

On the train headed from Sapporo to the town where I would be actually staying during my studies, I looked at the lush rice paddies and mountains in the distance and my entire heart just hummed with this “This is where you’re meant to be.” I knew then and there that I would move to Japan upon graduation.

What would I do there? Well, teach English, obviously.

My three months in Japan effectively aligned my entire life. My path had materialized before me. It was a roughly hacked, hard-to-see path through thick underbrush, but I could see it nonetheless. 

Year 5: Let’s Hurry It Up, I’m Ready To Live

Come Year 5, all of my Japanese classmates that had been with me since freshman year were gone and I was alone. My professor taught me Classical Japanese through independent study, and it was the must grueling course I took my entire five years there. But I found it invaluable and am eternally grateful to him for teaching me, because you see Classical Japanese a lot more than you’d think you would in everyday life. Particularly in formal settings. 

I still wanted to get certified to teach English in American high schools, because while I knew I wanted to go to Japan for now, I didn’t know if I wanted to spend my entire life there and I wanted a solid job opportunity when I came back to the states at some point.

However, the more education courses I took, the more I saw that the American education system was just as full of red-tape and The Man’s bullshit as corporate America, something else I rebuke with every fiber of my being. I also realized I’d need to take a 6th year of university, and that just wasn’t financially feasible for me. So I switched to a plain old English major with a heavy focus on linguistics and second language acquisition, and continued classical Japanese. 

I took the remaining 3 gen eds online in the summer, graduated, popped up to Chicago to do a month-long intensive course to get the CELTA (Certificate in Teaching English to Speakers of Other Languages issued by Cambridge.) It’s the most widely accepted and revered certification for teaching English as a foreign language.

So in the span of five years, I graduated with a Bachelor’s Degree in English with a focus in linguistics and SLA, and what is technically a major in Japanese Studies. 40 credit hours were required for a major, and I completed 42 credit hours tied to my minor, so while it isn’t listed on my diploma as a major, I did the coursework. I also got a CELTA Pass B, which only 20% of applicants achieve and never expires. The grand total for all of this was roughly $100,000 USD in loans.

Post-Graduation

The week I came back to my hometown from Chicago with my CELTA in hand, I packed my suitcases, threw a going-away party, and then flew to Sapporo, where I began my first job after uni, teaching English to children aged 0-18 at a private English conversation school. I did that for three years before changing careers and becoming a Japanese-English translator/interpreter for a global company. 

So how useful have my choices during university proven to be?

I’m sure I don’t have to explain that studying Japanese helps me tons with translating Japanese to English or living in Japan lol

Studying English grammar, linguistics, sociolinguistics, and second language acquisition has allowed me to recognize minute nuances that can make the difference between a successful and unsuccessful business negotiation when interpretation is necessary.

My background in education also means that I know how to present information clearly, concisely, and in a way that engages the audience. I am known as “The PowerPoint Pro” at work lol. 

I also have a keen eye for performance evaluation, behavior analysis, and improvement action plans. 

I offered English conversation lessons to coworkers for over a year, and now that is being done in other branches across the company! (Well, they were before COVID haha.) 

I DO NOT RECOMMEND WORKING THE HOURS I WORKED WHILE IN SCHOOL. My grades suffered and I wish I had worked less and focused more on classes. However, by working 15-hour shifts and doing full days of classes, I developed a very good tolerance for overtime, which comes in handy in the Japanese workplace. Just last month I had three 15 hour days in the same week. Sweet, sweet overtime pay. 

All of these facets have culminated in me earning a pretty nice promotion to 正社員 seishain back in February, which means I get nice benefits and basically my job is guaranteed until I die or the company goes under.

Should I decide to return to America someday, I will probably not go into the education field. Too much red tape. I will likely continue translation/interpretation for companies, because it isn’t too difficult and pays well. Though ideally I’d love to just make a living sharing cool information about Japanese and stuff, and maybe writing those stories that are bouncing around in my head when I should be working haha.

Do I think the debt is worth it?

Well, I don’t think I had any other option than to take out those loans. I didn’t have the means to learn the things I wanted to learn unless I went to university. 

Unless Japanese work visa requirements have changed, you are required to have a bachelor’s degree in order to obtain my sub-type of work-visa, so I needed a degree of some kind no matter what. 

Frankly, if I hadn’t gone to that university and met my best friend Setsuko, I don’t think I’d be where I am right now, living the life I am now. So just having met her is worth any price to me. 

Paying off all the loans is daunting, especially when yen is weak to the dollar. There were months I had to ask my parents for help, especially early on. But now I’ve got multiple loans paid off, my salary has increased, and the “omg i have money and no supervision so I can buy whatever I want” idiocy has mostly gone away. But I did get a super sweet pair of blindingly silver Converses a couple days ago that I definitely didn’t need

Do I have any regrets regarding my time at university?

I still regret dropping Old English for a stupid English Ed class. Seriously, how cool would that have been? But I still have the textbook, workbook, and I contacted the professor last week and she was kind enough to send me a syllabus. God bless her. So now I’m working on that bit by bit, which is fun.

I wish I hadn’t been such a cocky, naive idiot my first year. Thinking I could just “show up for tests” was the stupidest thing. It messed up my GPA, and my parents forbade me from retaking classes so I couldn’t go back and fix my mistakes. I think I graduated with a 3.4 overall GPA out of 4, but my English major GPA was 3.9 and my Japanese GPA was 4.0. So it’s pretty frustrating to have those gen eds and my dumbfuckery mar my transcript like that.

I really didn’t party at all. Most all of my friends were straight-laced Japanese exchange students, and I was also working ridiculous hours so I just didn’t really have the time. A part of me feels like I missed out on that part of the college experience.

Recently I’ve been putting more effort into improving my creative writing by reading a lot of books on the subject. Not a small part of me wishes that I had gone with a Creative Writing major instead of English major, because I still would have studied all the grammar and linguistics. Then again, I do believe that creative writing can be self-taught.

I wish I hadn’t worked as much as I did. There were a lot of times I couldn’t complete assignments or I missed lectures because I was just so drained. It wasn’t even good money.

Well...I did not intend for this post to become as long as it has. I’ve been cooped up in my apartment with nothing but two goldfish for company for over a month now and I think I’m a bit stir-crazy. Thank you to anyone and everyone who bothered to read all of this and become my therapist for a bit haha. Love you all. Stay safe and well. 💖

[shardminds]

I would stop the world for you

Pairing: Emma Swan/Killian Jones Rating: E for smut  WC: 6975 ABO!AU

Scratching an itch is what she’d called it, over breakfast with a barely-there smile and a smear of whipped cream from her hot chocolate on her bottom lip. It. This. Them.

He’d known that it would be easy to fall for her. He’s been trying not to ever since.

Here it is! The ABO you’ve all been waiting for... maybe? 

I want to give a BIG thank you to Salem (@artistic-writer) who is not only the reason for this works conception but also the brave soul that beta'd the living shit out of it, helped me muddle together a summary after I killed my brain while writing and put up with my whiny arse throughout. The bitch is fantastic. Show her, her writing and her art some love!

I also want to thank Sara (@darkcolinodonorgasm) for giving this a once over at the 4k mark and screaming at/with me when I thought my muse had run out. You're wonderful!

Also on AO3

Tagging a few who showed interest early on! @thisonesatellite​, @kmomof4​, @hollyethecurious​, @winterbaby89​, @gingerchangeling​, @resident-of-storybrooke​, @tiganasummertree​

It started with a text. Usually, Killian would have let it be and left the message unread until his break for fear of Liam catching him slouched over the battered oak workbench in the corner of their somehow impeccably kept workshop, eyes glued to his phone rather than the carburettor of the ‘76 Impala he should be working on. It would have earned him a lecture on professionalism and appearance and the same ‘this business is important’ shpiel Liam came out with every time he caught any member of their small team in a moment of distraction. As CEO of Jones & Jones Auto Refurbishments, he tended to let his ruling Alpha traits come through as a business owner - assertive, confident, loyal and a little bit of an arse if he didn’t get his own way. Killian, similarly Alpha in his nature, knows they’re unfortunately similar in their personalities, although he likes to pride himself on not being an arse all the time and being the more likeable Jones sibling. Hopefully, many people would back him up on that. They’d butted heads throughout their lives but, at the end of the day, Liam is all he’s got and a simple text message is usually not worth losing his brother’s favour over.

Liam wasn’t there today though, choosing instead to meet up with some of their more high profile customers to discuss refurb schedules in the spring quarter. His absence bumps Killian up from CEO’s younger-not-little brother and head mechanic to CEO’s younger-not-little brother, head mechanic and acting CEO until Liam gets back from his weekend away talking shop with a bunch of ponces who buy classic cars but have no clue about the maintenance or upkeep. It’s a lengthy title. They’re working on it. The biggest take away from his temporary promotion is that he can check his phone whenever he damn well pleases. Will and Robin are working away on the rust bucket of a Mini Cooper that had been dropped off yesterday by a disgruntled Graham on the other side of the workshop. They’re bickering, as usual, over if the vehicle will need a respray or not. Killian lets himself zone out of their squabbling as he pulls his phone from the pocket of his jeans.

What’s waiting there for him has a thrum of arousal awakening before he can even compose himself to read it fully. Emma. His best friend, confidant and the occasional recipient of his knot whenever her heat gets the better of her.

It’d been less than 48 hours since he’d seen her last to fuck out the residual energy his rut had left coursing through him. It was needy and raw and, when his knot hit, he’d had to stop himself from clamping down on the gland in the juncture of her neck. There was no way he’d have been able to resist sinking his teeth into the supple skin there if his rut was in full swing but that’s exactly the reason they’re careful about the scheduling of their trysts – avoiding his rut and indulging her heat whenever possible. They have apps to log it and everything.

With spring coming in, most Alphas were taking time off to handle their season. Killian had felt his coming a mile off and immediately locked himself away and started prepping high-protein meals, sterilizing his toys and cancelling all his plans – including the ones involving a certain willing Omega. He likes her a lot more than he probably should, but he doesn’t want to force the obligation of his mark onto her. A lot of other Alphas would’ve already. He’s been told as much and knocked half as many out for trying. Always coming to Emma afterwards, battered and bloody. She welcomes him with open arms, cleans his wounds and thanks him in her own way. He knows she doesn’t want that whole marked, barefoot and pregnant life and he respects that. There’s no way he’s ready to bring kids into the world. His one-bedroom apartment above the workshop is no place to raise a child, for god’s sake. He knows Emma feels the same. Her reliance on the contraceptives Dr Whale supplies her with is concrete proof of that. She even keeps a box in Killian’s bedside table, just in case.

As much as he’d love a repeat performance of the other night, they’d already discussed their clashing calendars. Liam was away on business and Emma was covering for David at the station while he rode out his rut. Well… his wife rode it out. They’d be fine for a couple of weeks. Killian has a reminder in his phone for when Emma’s next heat is due to hit so he knows when to stock up on carby foods, ice cream and good coffee. He’s freed up that week for her, knowing how needy she can get through her heat.

Regardless, she doesn’t usually text him while he’s at work. She knows how Liam gets. It must be something important. He swipes open his phone, taking a second to smile at his lock screen. It’s a picture of the two of them, curled up with matching cups of hot chocolate and a shared blanket that he’d taken at some point to prove to Ruby that they occasionally do things other than fucking. Sometimes ‘Netflix and Chill’ means just that. Emma’s hair is a mess and so is his but their smiles are genuine and it makes his heart warm every time. He flicks up her messages with another swipe of his thumb and his smile falls.

Swan: I’m early. Need you now. Please.

She means her heat. He’s not stupid. Had it been a month already? A quick check to his calendar shows that she’s not due for another week at least. They meticulously planned these things. Killian Jones, a self-professed neat freak, and Emma Swan, the proud owner of a ‘floordrobe’, disagree on a lot of things when it comes to personal organisation. The one thing they do agree on, however, is keeping track of their cycles.

The last time she’d been early, they ended up fucking in the back of her Yellow VW Bug on the way home from a beach trip with the Nolans. She’d been wearing the smallest bikini he’d ever seen, the two black triangles only just covering her breasts before being secured by a thin strap at her nape and a second behind her back. Instead of matching bottoms, she’d gone with a pair of frayed denim shorts that brushed the tops of her thighs and hugged her behind so deliciously that he could barely keep a hold of the growl brewing in his throat. Sand clung to her arse and the back of her legs and he wanted nothing more than to brush it off and pull her into his lap. He could smell her arousal creeping up on her before she could, approaching as inevitably as the tide, and he knew they would not make it back to her apartment before it hit. For the sake of David, Mary Margaret and the rest of the families trying to enjoy themselves on a rare sunny beach day, Killian bundled Emma into the cramped back seat of her car and began the two-hour drive back to Storybrooke.

She had him pull over after half an hour to give her a hand, so to speak.

The upholstery stains had been a bitch to get out.

Before thinking of the consequences, he fumbles out a text back to her.

K. Jones: Be there in 5.

“Rob! Will!” He calls out across the shop, knowing he’s been heard when the incessant bickering turns to silence. The two Betas would be able to handle things on their own for the day. They’d get no work done, sure, but he could afford that. Work had been slow all morning and there was no sign of it picking up any time soon. As long as they finish the Mini by the week’s end, Liam will be none the wiser. Pulling on his leather jacket, Killian headed over their way. “Something’s come up. Can you cover for me?”

“What is it this time, lover boy?” Will chimes in, appearing from under the hood of Graham’s Mini, his white vest smeared with oil despite him not remotely touching the engine today. One eyebrow raised in a questioning glare. “Missus need you to lick her boots again?”

Rob issues him with a slap, sending his friend’s head straight into the hood of the car with a metallic thud and a groan. They’d have to buff that one out later. Well…Will would.

“That’s no way to talk to your superior, William. Show some respect.”

Rob laughs at the snarl he gets in return, reaching across to ruffle his friend’s buzzcut. Will clenches his teeth, biting out his response. “Call me William one more time and I’ll show you some respect.”

Killian had always found their relationship a little odd. Will is always ready for a fight, a punch first ask questions later kind of bloke and Robin is the one that drags him back to reality with a gentle hand…and maybe occasionally a firm shove. They’re two sides of the same coin and Liam would be lost without them in the shop. Hell, Killian would be lost without them in his life.

Especially now.

“Lads, I’m trusting you to not burn the place down. Lock up when you’re done, will you?” He launches his keys at Rob who plucks them out of the air and tucks them into the breast pocket of his pristine overalls, patting them for good measure. Rob, he could trust. Will, on the other hand…It’s a good job Liam had gone all out on their liability insurance.

They bid him farewell with a sarcastic “Aye aye, Captain!” before Killian can protest. He doesn’t have the time to bollock them for being insolent. Plus, they’re doing him a favour by watching over the shop, both automatically aware of the nature of his absence. He flips them off, jumping into his Jeep and slamming it into gear before speeding across town with little regard for the speed limit. It’s okay. He’s got connections in the sheriff’s office.

Well… one connection. The same connection he’s about to fuck the living daylights out of.

Scratching an itch is what she’d called it, over breakfast with a barely-there smile and a smear of whipped cream from her hot chocolate on her bottom lip. It. This. Them.

He’d known that it would be easy to fall for her. He’s been trying not to ever since.

Emma’s apartment building is tucked away on the other side of Storybrooke. Past main street and the town hall, almost on the edge of the town boundary. The whole apartment block is a sanctuary for unclaimed Omegas; tucked far enough away that they’re able to endure their heats in peace, but close enough that you can still get lunch delivered from Granny’s if needed. Alphas, upon entry, have to provide ID, evidence of their previous rut and what their intentions are while visiting. Luckily, Ruby was on duty today – pillar-box red nails offering him a little wave as he passes by the entrance checkpoint. Killian didn’t even have to slow his Jeep. She had the barriers open for him already. Emma must’ve called ahead.

Rolling his truck into the nearest parking bay, Killian almost forgets to check if he’s locked it before he’s vaulting over the fence and sprinting into the sterile building, taking the linoleum stairs two at a time to get to Emma’s third-floor apartment faster. The building smells of bleach and fresh laundry but, underneath it all, he can taste something distinctly her. Earthy yet fresh, sweet and almost spicy. It swells around him like a warm embrace when she throws open her door.

He hadn’t even knocked.

She’s a sight for sore eyes dressed in one of his old band t-shirts, logo far too faded to be legible anymore, and a pair of boy shorts that do nothing to hide how slick she is, wetness seeping through the material with every second spent stood in the doorway. She’s gorgeous and glowing, a thin sheen of sweat causing her to glisten under the fluorescence of the hallway lights, flecks of gold catching in her lust-darkened eyes. Her hair hangs in matted curls over her left shoulder and he knows she must have been too impatient to blow dry it that morning, instead opting to let it air dry while she took care of herself in other ways. Fuck. He can’t think about that right now. The tang of her heat in the air makes him want enough as it is. He does not need filthy images of Emma trying to get herself off with the knot toy he’d bought for her last year when her heat and his rut had clashed. He does not need to think of how she was probably whining for him, aching to be filled by something real, way before she texted him to come over.

She wants him, needs him, and he can smell it rolling off her in waves.

It’d be rude not to oblige.

She must’ve had the same thought because she pounces on him the second he moves to step forward, arms surrounding his neck and legs circling his waist. He can’t help but reach down to her arse, giving it a light pinch which has her letting out an indecent moan before she’s crashing their lips together. He shouldn’t miss her. It’d not been two days since he last had her, hard and fast against the tiled walls of his shower and yet, when she’s like this, desperate and begging in his arms, he damns every second they were apart. The door slams shut behind them and Killian promptly shoves her up against it, swallowing down the noise it earns him.

Emma kisses are urgent and powerful, overwhelming in their ferocity. Omegas aren’t usually celebrated for their power but she’s different. Her heat brings out a side to her that drowns out his comprehensive thought with fiery kisses and insistent touches. She tears down his resolve so completely. Is there any way he can deny her when she’s like this, hands impatiently tearing at the buttons of his shirt?

Omegas are commonly seen as the weaker class, apparently only superior in their fertility, and abused by the archaic roots of their world. Killian had never understood the prejudice held against them, even as a boy. He’d been born into privilege and he accepted that. As the son of an Alpha father, sibling to an Alpha brother and an Alpha himself, he will never be able to comprehend the struggle that comes with being born with a target on your back. He will never know the pain of suffering through twelve heats a year or the immense risk that other Alphas pose on a regular basis when you’re unclaimed. He will never know the sheer unadulterated bliss that Emma feels when he fills her so full of his come that it leaks around his pulsing knot, mixed with her sheer slick on its path down her thighs. He will never know just how much trust she puts in him when his teeth graze over the patch of skin along her neck that calls for his bite. But, for her, he tries.

“Stop thinking.” She growls, tugging on his bottom lip with her teeth, utilising probably more force than intended. Her hands make their way under his shirt in an attempt to push it off his shoulders but it doesn’t budge far, the buttons she’d missed in her haste straining to accommodate. Her eyes, emerald and dangerous, flutter shut as he lets the hand that is not supporting the small of her back slip beneath her sodden underwear. The scent of her hits him stronger now and all he can do is bite back the groan in his chest. She’s soft and silken and he can see how absolutely consumed she is by her pleasure in the way she relaxes into his touch. Her lips part against his mouth in a gasp. He wants.

“I came all this way and that’s all you have to say?”

“Killian, please.” Her thighs clench his hips as he dips one finger into her centre. He’ll never tire of this. Feeling her twitch and whine as his deft fingers work their magic. She unravels beneath his touch and it’s maddening. Teasing her, caressing her core and revelling in the slick that spills beneath his ministrations, builds his own arousal in an agonising burn. Her lips take his again in a breathless kiss, a mess of mouths and tongues and teeth. Fire rushes through his veins as he fights the urge to fuck her senseless right there. As much as he wants to slam her against the white varnished wood and take her so deep she can’t help but cry out, he doesn’t fancy a repeat of the last time they’d been so impatient. He’d awoken on the floor, half-hard, after literally fucking the door off its hinges and knocking himself out on the frame on the way down. Emma had laughed about it for weeks after and the apartment block billed him for the repairs.

Beds are easier to replace and Killian has fucked her in his fair share of them.

He smells her orgasm approaching before it hits. He always does. The heady scent of her sex becoming richer, sweeter, thicker before he dips a second finger inside her cunt, pushing deeper to massage the rough spot that sends her over the edge every single time.

Emma can’t help but run her mouth as she comes. Shaking in his hold, fists balled in his hair, cursing his name between kisses until she’s spent and boneless. Each expletive sending a throb to his cock, straining against his jeans. Such foul language doesn’t come to her naturally but Killian drags it out of her with each circle of his index finger against her clit.

“Such a filthy mouth, Swan.” He smirks, breaking away to press a kiss to her neck. The resulting shiver that creeps down her spine has her clench around him once more, a wave of slick coating his hand. Her shorts are ruined, completely soaked through. It makes it all the easier to tear them off as he removes his hand from her folds, seams protesting as the fabric splits, revealing her in her entirety to him. Pink and wet and fucking delectable.

He’s wearing too many clothes.

“I can’t help it.” She shrugs, still breathless, fingers returning to the buttons on his shirt that she’d missed in her insistence to run her hands through the thick hair there. “Blame it on my heat, or your fingers, or both.”

Killian chuckles. His chest jostling her ever so slightly where they’re still stood. With practised ease, he begins the short distance to the bedroom.

“I’d love to take all the credit but you were already halfway gone by the time I got here.” Together they shrug the shirt from his shoulders, letting it fall to the hardwood floor as they make their way. Emma leans into him then, letting her head rest against his chest, just over his heart. He knows she’s got more in her and the next wave will take them both in its wake, but for now, he’s content to just hold her as she recovers, her breathing falling into sync with his own heartbeat, avoiding the cluttered glass coffee table as he walks her through the living room.

“I’ve come four times today.” Her breath is hot against his nipple, which hardens with the combined weight of her confession almost as if commanded to do so. He stops short of her bedroom, adjusting her weight in his arms so he can open the door without disturbing her further from her rest. “I was hoping I’d be able to get it out of my system without you. I know you’ve been busy.”

“Emma, love, don’t be stupid. That’s why you keep me around.” Pressing a kiss to her crown, inhaling the soft vanilla of the shampoo that she loves so much, he steps inside the room she calls her own. It’s messy, not as much as it used to be but more than he’d allow his own space to get, and he has to tiptoe between abandoned outfits she’d probably tried on that morning before deciding that work was just off the cards today. It’s never advisable for Omegas to be in public for their heat, claimed or otherwise. He can imagine her pouting in the mirror, hair wet, arousal rearing its head between her thighs, unsatisfied and wanting. “I can make you feel good. I want to.”

“Ah yes, my own personal fuck toy. How chivalrous of you.” He dips her onto the bed, ignoring her sarcasm, and pushes aside the toys she’d clearly been using, still sticky with her essence – a couple of small vibrators, a string of anal beads and the knot toy he’d supplied her with over a year ago. She’d admitted to him that it didn’t get much use. She’s come to rely on him for satisfaction, these days. Why would she need a toy? Killian adds washing them to his mental to-do list because she will definitely forget once he’s done with her. Emma unfurls her legs from around his waist and lets her back slump against the mattress with a soft thud. In the soft light from her bedroom window, he gets a good full look at her core, fresh slick coating her outer lips in a delicious glaze. Maybe later he’ll get the chance to feast upon it, eating like a man starved in that way that makes her toes curl and her voice hoarse from screaming.

“If that’s what the lady wishes?” He hums, dragging his eyes from her cunt to her tits. When had she removed her–his shirt? The swell of them is enough to drive him wild, their pert buds the same soft dusky rose as her mouth. He leans down to take one into his mouth, not missing the relaxed sigh it earns him. Looking up at her from this angle makes his cock stir, her head thrown back, long pale neck exposed in a subconscious invitation. He squeezes at her neglected nipple with slick coated fingers, trailing patterns into the quickly pebbled flesh there.

Fuck, he wants to mark her. Take her as his over and over again. He wants to fuck her through his rut and show her how deep under his skin she has managed to crawl. Every inch of him yearns for her. Every second they’re not like this, together, entwined, is agony. He can’t let himself think that way, not like this. Emma is not an object, not a thing to be possessed and claimed. She’s headstrong and stubborn as any Alpha. She belongs to no one.

Her moans sear into his mind, a permanent brand, a reminder of everything he cannot have.

Tonight, like many other nights, he pretends she belongs to him.

“This lady definitely wishes.” She sighs, bringing him back to reality. Somehow she always seems to ground him, despite being the root of all his desire. A smile, a laugh, a cry. It always brings him right back. Back to her. She squeezes at his shoulders, pulling him up so she can kiss him again. It’s languid and warm, passion simmering beneath her tongue as it finds its way into his mouth. These are his favourite. The kind of kisses that burn slowly, growing deeper and deeper until they’re both left gasping for air. He could kiss like this forever. Suffocation be damned. Her hands slide down his chest, through the hair she loves to toy with so much, down across his firm stomach. The muscles there flutter under her touch and Killian’s cock aches to be released from its denim prison. She seems to notice just as he does. Her hand makes the final stretch to where he wants her most, cupping him roughly and giving a hard grasp. He snarls, animalistic desire shooting through him. It’s inevitable, the call of her heat claiming him fully. She loves it this way the most. Rough and hard. Alpha.

One eyebrow quirks up, behind a mop of messy blonde hair, with kiss bruised lips and eyes so dark they’re almost black. A challenge. He loves a challenge.

“Why are you still wearing clothes?”

Their fingers clash while trying to unbuckle his belt, caught between the dark thatch of hair there and the soft leather. Emma retreats first, choosing instead to utilise the belt loops and tug him to his knees between her spread thighs. Laced with urgency, their kisses grow sloppy, insistent and chaotic. Killian struggles to shove his jeans low enough to let his cock spring free. They don’t have time for anything else. She needs him now. Slick glistens as it trails down her thighs, the sheets below soaked with it and every hitch of her breath drives him wild with hunger. Everything smells of it, the inescapable musk of her sex drowning his last rational thought.

His Omega needs him.

“Killian.”

Pushing into her is better than anything he could have ever prepared for. Years ago, the first time she’d invited him to bed, he’d popped his knot embarrassingly fast from just the sheath of her alone. The feeling tight and foreign. He’d never had an Omega before. He hadn’t been prepared for the intensity of her heat. It hit him like a train. It still does. They’d laughed it off, her face pressed into his neck, and he’d vowed to make up for it in other ways, ensuring she was thoroughly satisfied by the time the swelling in his cock had dispersed half an hour later.

He’s had more than enough practice now, though. She’s hot and wet and still so impossibly tight. Slick gathers on the tip of his length as he slides true. All of him. Emma doesn’t even flinch, taking it all in her stride and demanding more with small cants of her hips, breathy moans falling from her lips with every inch. Killian was fucked from the get-go. With shallow pants, she writhes against him, legs winding their way around his hips again, only wanting him to move deeper, faster, harder as he tortures her with devilishly slow thrusts. The drag of his thick cock against her insides draws out the most sinful sounds and Killian can’t help but slow to take it all in, hands gripping her hips.

“You’re desperate for me, aren’t you?” Arousal coats his voice, deep and gravelly. An entirely different man to who he was five minutes ago. Not a man at all. An Alpha. Killian the Mechanic didn’t have the balls to so brazenly ask that question. Killian the Alpha definitely did. Emma’s resulting moan at his speech makes him throb, his cock dragging deliciously against that spot inside her that makes her only cry out for more. It’s intoxicating to watch himself disappear completely inside her sopping heat, folds moving to accommodate his size. “You fucked yourself over and over wishing it was me. Wishing I was here to fill your greedy wet cunt. Am I right?”

She can’t even form words; head thrown back, hair splayed out in a crown of gold against soft white sheets, eyes fluttering shut and mouth falling open as she allows herself to sink into bliss. Like this, a slave to her desire, she’s otherworldly. This is his power.

He takes her chin in his hand, forcing her to look him in the eyes while his hips snap with a little more force. Not as rough as she really wants it but rich with the promise of more. Always more. “Answer me, Omega.”

“Y-yes,” Hearing the words break through a deep moan only fuels him further. Knowing he’s responsible for every ounce of her pleasure proving to be a greater turn-on than anything else ever could be, flames of his impending orgasm teasing at his base. He might be the Alpha but she holds all the power here. “But it wasn’t enough.” She sighs, teeth catching her bottom lip as his cock drags almost fully out, taking a second to nudge her clit and the slick gathered there before plunging straight back in, deeper, drawing a sob from her in return. “Fuck, Killian! It’s never enough.”

“And why’s that, love?” His voice is calmer than he feels. He leans down to press a kiss between her breasts, letting his tongue drag in the valley between them. Salt blooms on his tongue along with the unmistakable tang of her. All five of his senses are under siege by the very presence of the Omega – his Omega – in his arms; her sharp taste, her rich scent, her needy touch, her fucked voice and the sight of her completely at his mercy all adding to the sensory overload that has his own release building low in his gut. It tears at whatever shred of control he has left, leaving only raw impulse behind.

“Because it’s not you, Alpha.”

With that, Killian breaks.

He pulls out completely, cool air hitting his length, barely noticing Emma’s cry of protest. She clenches around the open air, slick leaking from the space left in his wake. Seeing her like this, open and wanting, has electricity fizzing beneath his skin. The primal urge to take her over and over clawing deep in his belly. Her thighs tremble, still clinging to his hips despite the distance he tries to put between them, resisting his attempts to untangle her crossed ankles from behind his back. He wants to slide in, take her until she’s filled with nothing but him, and ride it out that way until they’re both spent and softening in the glow. He wants to tell her he loves her while they’re tied together. He wants to sink his teeth into the juncture of her neck and be hers until his last breath. He wants to be her Alpha. Wholly. But he can’t.

He can fuck her but he can’t love her and, in some ways, that’s worse.

She drags her nails through the carpet of hair at his chest, noticing his hesitation and striving to bring him back from the edge of madness. Back to her. With one touch, she’s expressing more than she ever could with words, not that she could even form words at this point, her breath coming in gasps. Totally ravished. It says Are you okay? and I’m here and, atop slick soiled sheets and freely given moans, Mine.

It does nothing to ground him now. Nothing can.

One word pulses through Killian’s mind. Instinctual. Carnal. Feral. Slamming her ankles to the bed and flipping her onto her stomach with abundant force, it rips from him with no hesitation.

“Present.”

In another life, maybe it’d be different. Maybe he’d be a gentle lover, revelling in every inch of her skin, tasting wherever his tongue could reach. Maybe he’d be able to worship her in the way he wants, with prayers dying on his lips, finding god in her thighs and the devil in her curses.

In another life, he would not have to hide the fact that Emma holds his heart in her palm, deft fingers holding the ability to destroy him entirely. But that’s what he does. He hides, always, behind filthy words and hungry kisses, giving her everything she wants in the form of his thick cock coaxing her to completion again and again. She loves it, informing him in screams when pleasure hits. He loves her, irrevocably. It’s too easy to forget that they’re nothing more than friends when she’s like this.

Pushing to her hands and knees, Emma slides her hips up from the bed with a hiss of yes alpha. Slick, viscous and rich, leaks further down her legs. She flips her hair over one shoulder as she looks to him, revealing the curve of her spine from her arse to her nape and the scars of their previous encounters. They litter the pale expanse of her back, evidence of where he’d clawed too hard at her flesh and drawn blood. Regret tinges the memories a little, but not enough to stop him. Killian lets his eyes drag over her, ready and willing and calling out for him. Half lidded eyes, lust glazed and begging, find his as his gaze reaches her face. She’s beautiful, ethereal in a way he can’t quite describe with words, and like this, submissive and yet still fully in control, he falls just a little bit more.

“Please, just fuck me.”

Did he ever stand a chance?

He sheathes himself in seconds with no resistance, a snarl pulled from his throat by the overbearing heat of her dripping cunt. It’s almost too much and his fingers grip at her hips; the stark slap of skin on skin, broken moans, and laboured creak of the bed an overwhelming cacophony of sound that stokes the flame in his belly. The telltale signs of his release tug at his periphery but he staves it off. What kind of Alpha would he be if he didn’t ensure his Omega was satisfied first?

No. Not his.

Bypassing the thought completely, he slides a hand from her hip to her core, gliding over the engorged nub he finds there. One pinch. That’s all it takes for Emma to collapse face-first into the bed with a scream caught by her pillows, arse still proudly presented because she’s nothing if not obedient. Her orgasm hasn’t claimed her just yet, but it’s close; insides gripping him impossibly tighter.

“You're naughty, Omega, presenting like this, arse up and suffocating me with the scent of you,” Killian tries his best to enunciate, channelling every modicum of control he has left into keeping his voice deep and authoritative. The Alpha. Her Alpha. It calls to her basest nature, making her writhe with want. It must work. Along with the caresses of his fingers against where they’re joined, it has her insides fluttering. Any noises she makes are caught in the sheets below and he’s glad for that. Anything more would be a death sentence. “But you know how your Alpha likes to fuck you, don't you?"

No. Not hers.

Emma turns her head to the side, sweeping blonde waves shifting just enough that he can see her face as he fucks her with renewed vigour. The broken please cuts like ice down his spine, before it breaks off in a whine. It’s too much for her, being filled and stroked and brought to the edge. And yet, she wouldn’t have it any other way; always urging him on when Killian ever dared to fuck her slowly. She delights in the aches and bruises he leaves behind.

He could fuck her for hours like this, pounding into her with reckless abandon and not a care in the world but, perhaps selfishly, he wants more. He wants and wants and wants. He wants an Omega to call his own, to fill up and care for, he wants to nest together through her heat and shower her in gifts and make her breakfast every day. Instead of some faceless Omega in the fleeting moments he lets himself think this way, it’s her. It’s always her.

He snaps hips in time with Emma’s hurried heartbeat. Staccato thrusts hitting her just right as his fingers match the pace.

“Alpha!” She sobs with her eyes clenched shut, balled fists clutched in sheets. He can feel her teetering on the edge. The precipice of her orgasm stirs his own and, when she screams at the fervent attention to her clit, her whole body shudders. He’s close, so close, fucking her through her climax as she convulses around him. The scent of her release permeates his skin and fogs his mind in a way that nothing else can. It’s heady and seductive and her.

“Emma.”

His knot comes, to no surprise, as quickly as she did. Swelling out from the base of his cock and dragging a moan from her spent form at the familiar stretch of it. His thrusts slow, movement stilted by the knot that secures him, emptying himself within her centre without a second thought. She hums as he fills her with warmth, eyes fluttering open just a little. Her smile is dangerous and his breath catches in his throat. Generally speaking, she’s fucked; hair even more of a mess than when he arrived, lips bruised from kisses and bites, sweat beading at her temples and in the dip of her collarbones. She’s fucked and when she looks at him like that, a smile teasing at the corners of her mouth, he can’t help but groan as his cock stirs. How does she even have this effect on him? Even now, with his knot still solid inside her. With laboured breaths, he gently manoeuvers them onto their sides so they’re curled together on the bed. His jeans, still shoved just below his hips, making it slightly more difficult than it should be.

Emma relaxes against him for a while, resting against his arm tucked up under her head with that same secret smile. Only the sound of their own breathing breaking the silence between them. She’d be sated for a couple of hours after that, residual energy from her orgasm would see her through until the early evening. With a little help from his friend, double shot espresso, he’d be ready to go another round by then. If she asks him to stay, that is. Sometimes she does, sometimes she doesn’t. He doesn’t force it. She can handle herself. It’s one of the things he likes so much about her.

Time passes agonisingly slowly and, as much as Killian could stay here forever with Emma Swan pulled close against him, he’s lost feeling in one of his arms and both of his legs.

“My Alpha?” The smirk is audible in her tone. Killian freezes, his whole body tensing beneath the weight of her words. She snuggles back against him, dragging his other arm over her waist, entwining their fingers together.

“What?” He can feel her chuckle against him and it jostles his softening cock, knot still full but well on its way to receding.

“You know how your Alpha likes to fuck you.” She grunts in a terrible impersonation of his dirty talk. Heat spreads from his chest to his face, a blanket of shame at his own outbursts. Now sated, his primarily Alpha urges were all in check, leaving Killian alone to deal with the consequences. Leaving Killian to explain why, in not as many words, he’d told his best friend that he was hers.

“Got caught up in the heat of the moment, is all.” He feebly tries to brush it off, but she turns in his arms to look him in the eyes. With hair splayed out in a halo of gold, there’s no fear or anger or shame on her face. Only the same smile. Any other protests turn to ash on his tongue. He wants to tell her the truth but he couldn’t bear the rejection. Having part of something was better than having none of it at all. Right? “You know how it is.”

“Maybe.” She pouts.

They lie together in silence for a little while longer, her fingertips tracing idle patterns on his wrist. He doesn’t know how much time goes by but he’s holding his breath for most of it. Cautious. He doesn’t want to fuck this up. If this is the only way he can have Emma, in friendship and in heat relief, he will take it. His knot is almost fully receded when she next speaks, turning and pressing a kiss to the column of his throat as he fully slips from her, soft and wet.

“Maybe next time my Alpha can let me ride him senseless?” She purrs, fingers tangling in the hair coating his chest. Killian doesn’t know how he has any strength left in him but, somehow, with Emma’s lips at his throat and her voice in his head, he does. Rolling her onto her back just as they were joined earlier, he hovers above her. She’s still smiling and it’s beautiful, one eyebrow raised as if to challenge him on it.

“Yours?” He almost chokes on the word, knowing that this step would be one they will never return from. She nods, shuffling so she can lean up to kiss him softly. It’s barely a press of lips, Killian too busy processing her words to be able to respond. “Really? Not just...?”

“I’m not ready to be marked yet, Killian, but It’d be nice to keep you around for more than… well… this. What do you say?” His forehead falls against hers, noses pressed together in a sweetness Killian never thought he’d be able to witness. She cups his cheek with her palm and he meets her halfway for another kiss, firmer but no less sweet. They come together, over and over again, taking their pleasure all over her apartment until he’s not sure where Emma ends and he begins. He would never have it any other way.

Killian doesn’t make it home that night.

He doesn’t make it home all week, actually. Rob and Will do not burn down the workshop but they also don’t finish the refurb work on Graham’s Mini and the suspicious head-shaped dent on the bonnet had yet to be buffed out.

Liam is going to kill him.

[venus-says]

Futari wa Pretty Cure Splash Star Episodes 38-49 + Movie

So this is what I've been missing for all these years???

It has taken me 10 years of being a Precure fan for me to finally watch Splash Star from beginning to end, and I feel like a fool becAUSE I'VE BEEN MISSING SO MUCH, HOW COULD'VE I SPENT TEN YEARS WITHOUT WATCHING THIS??????? This series is so good, THIS ENDING IS SO GOOD!!!!!!! I've finished watching it yesterday and I'm still in awe. Gosh, I love this show.

But before I can talk about the ending, allow me to dedicate a small paragraph to comment on the movie. Originally I thought about making a separate post for the movie, but I don't have much to say about it so I'm adding this extra portion here (thank god I watched the movie before this was posted so I can add this beforehand). This movie is very lackluster, I got excited from the first scenes, watching it in HD and not DVD quality really brings way much more life to the screen and I was pretty impressed, but then Saki and Mai started to fight before their performance and all the joy went down because it immediately started to feel like Friends of the Snow Sky but worse because Saki and Mai were never this "hostile" against each other before so their fight doesn't seem true to their characters especially considering what originated this argument to begin with.

The movie exclusive characters are good, sadly they don't get that much time on screen and they also don't get a lot to do so they're not used to their full potential and they end up being just flat. In fact, I believe this is a good way to describe this movie, interesting concepts that aren't used fully because they wanna focus on this fight that makes no sense and that is something they've already done before. I don't know if this has to do with the weird duration of the movie, it's not even one hour long, or if it's just the script that is weak, but I really didn't enjoy this movie all that much. 😕

But now let's talk about the good stuff, let's talk about the ending of the season.

I have so many feels I don't even know where to begin with. Well to begin with, in the title of this post it says this is a review of episodes 38 to 49 but that's actually a lie since episodes 38 and 39 are just fillers that don't add much so I have nothing to comment on. But from episode 40 onward the show picks itself up and it just goes all out to wrap up this story in a very beautiful, exciting, and emotional way.

I admit I was a bit afraid of how this final stretch would go when I saw that the final Dark Fall general was defeated in episode 40, but they managed to wrap up this ending in a very clever way. Bringing back the defeated generals at first felt like a cheap way to do it, but the fact that the villains weren't back for just a single episode and considering there was no monster of the week, all the fights were against the generals themselves, it really enhanced the experience, it was like in the Mega Man games where you'll fight all the Robot Masters again in one of the Wily stages. It was also great that they came back WAY STRONGER and the girls really had to give their best to win those fights, I especially like that they lost right away when the villains came back because it's not always that we see precure losing so it was great to see just how much more difficult it would be for them to win in the end.

The final twist of Gohyan being the actual final villain wasn't all that much surprising, I mean he's the character who's always plotting something I knew he would betray Akudaikan at some point, and in normal circumstances, I'd wouldn't be pleased with this fake-out, but because Gohyan is a character we've seen since the beginning and he has been active, either plotting against his comrades or actually going against the precure, it worked. I kinda wish they had kept him in his "elderly" form, I think he works better that way, but seeing how great the action was for that final fight I'm more than okay with it.

If I had to say one thing that I completely disliked about this ending it's that, aside of the Christmas episode that once again had the pink try to deal with her feelings for a guy who doesn't look at them on a romantic way, having a four-part ending didn't really feel necessary. I think they could've made it in a way where episodes 46, 47, and 48, where focused in the actual fight, like episode 46 is the raid at Dark Fall, the fight against Akudaikan goes from Part B of 46 and Part A of 47, and then the final battle against Gohyan goes from Part B of 47 and lasts the entirety of episode 48, and then we have episode 49 focused for the aftermath and the epilogue. But that's just a minor thing because they hit the nail in the head in the important stuff so it's all good.

And speaking of action, THEY NAILED IT IN THIS PORTION OF THE STORY. I complained a lot about hoe the fights during the season weren't as good as they could've been, but if they were saving so much just so this ending could be so action-heavy and look so damn good as it was I feel like it was a good trade. Of course, the repeated shots of Bright and (especially) Windy using her powers are still here, but it's incorporated a lot better here and they do some actual creative stuff with it.

But the greatest thing of this finale was seeing Michiru and Kaoru finally being back, again I was reluctant about bringing them back so soon, but they knew what they're doing and they managed to do so much with them in this short amount of time. And I think it only works so well because they did an excellent job with them in their first arc so we as an audience can feel for them and we can also share the feelings Saki and Mai were having because we care about these characters just as much as they do. And I also like that they were brought back and they served a purpose, they weren't just extensions of Saki and Mai, they had their own concerns, they had their own issues so it wasn't like they were there to do just a single thing and they were able to conclude their arcs in a very satisfactory way. They've become really complex characters and I was always excited about seeing them on screen because I knew something great would come out of it every time, that being either them in their fighting scenes or while they were doing mundane stuff like Michiru enjoying helping at Pan Paka Pan or Kaoru spending time with Minori. Kaoru and Michiru's story was everything Kiriya's story wanted to be and more and this is definitely one of the strongest points of this show.

Our protagonists were probably the less worked during this arc, they sort of became an entity rather than two distinctive characters, but it somehow works? I think that because Saki ad Mai are such a great duo, they have so much chemistry, and the show seems to balance pretty well the spotlight they give to each girl, that deciding to focus more on these two as a duo rather than individually doesn't backfire. Their arc is more about solidifying their friendship more and more each time and spreading that out to Kaoru and Michiru, and they do a pretty good job at that. I feel like a lot of people don't have high opinions on them because of that, but I honestly didn't leave the show with the feeling that something was missing in regards to this matter so as far as I'm concerned they're great characters.

Before I wrap up I wanna talk about the ending in specific. It was the perfect pay off that this show needed. After everything Saki, Mai, Kaoru, and Michiru had gone through seeing they fight the big final boss together on an amazing showdown was incredibly awesome, when they lost their powers and the remaining of the spirits still living on Earth gathered together to bring not just Bloom and Egret but also Bright and Windy personified in Kaoru and Michiru felt rewarding as hell. It's pretty sad Kaoru and Michiru aren't considered official Cures because this final battle wouldn't have been the same without them.

If you read my Kamen Rider reviews you know I don't like it when characters come back from the dead immediately after they die. That wasn't the case here, in fact actually cried during that scene. We've said goodbye to them once and it hurt, seeing that they would go disappear again was like having my chest crushed, especially after everything that went down during this final arc and their speech in the fight about not giving up on the future they want to build with Saki and Mai. I knew precure is a kids show so they wouldn't kill them, but I expected they would go back to the Fountain of the Sky to live with Moop and Food there, but the show allowed the girls to stay with their friends in the Land of Greenery and that made me feel all fuzzy and warm inside.

And that montage at the end, with the four together, Kaoru joining Mai in the Art Club so she can learn how to draw so she can spend more time with Minori, Saki teaching Michiru how to bake, gosh, very few things made me as happy as that little montage did. Even seeing that Flappy finally confessed to Choppy and now they're officially a couple I believe was very endearing to see. And this is pretty much why I wanted the epilogue to be it's own separated episode because these are all things I'd love to watch as they were happening. It was still good, don't get me wrong, I have the dumbest smile in my face from just remembering it, but I wish we had more, GIVE ME AN OVA TOEI!!!!!

I'm not sure if I said everything I had to say, a lot of what I enjoyed from Splash Star was how the show touched me with emotional moments centered around characters I've grown to love throughout these 49 episodes and sadly my vocabulary isn't so vast so I can put out all these feelings here without sounding more repetitive than I already do. Splash Star is a really wonderful season, it had a slow start but as soon as they found their identity they really shined brightly, this season definitely shouldn't be so overlooked. So if you never watched it, give it a chance, and if you have watched it already, please do it again, appreciate the show for what it is and spread the love that this season and its characters deserve.

Three seasons of Precure down, thirteen more to go. Thank you so much for reading this far, please share the love for Splash Star in the comments. I'll see you soon for Yes! Pretty Cure 5!

P.S.: I was revising the post and I realized I didn't mention Kintolesky and Shitataare became a couple in the Christmas episode and it makes me really sad that these villains came back to being dust because I'd love to see this relationship. XD Again, GIVE ME AN OVA TOEI (and come up with a dumb excuse for why they're alive like humans and tell us how they've become regulars at Pan Paka Pan and how Kintolesky and Saki's father became the bestest friends ever).

[kindar-life]

<h1>The problem with Crossing the Border (09-01-19)</h1>

The problem with Crossing the Border (09-01-19)

Or an alternate title: I have ADHD, Big Surprise Out of curiosity, anyone has border crossing stories? They don’t have to be horror stories; they can be good. I’m mainly curious how it’s been for other people. So this week could have gone great, and for one the problem wasn’t on my company’s side. We did everything right, it’s the shipper and the border who dropped the ball. So, did the delivery on Monday and as my manager is on vacation, St-Germain was the one handling it, and before they were done unloaded, I had my next assignment. a pickup, 5 hours away, for Wednesday morning. If my manager had been handling it, I wouldn’t have found out until later on Tuesday, forcing me to rush there, his justifications would be that he was looking for something better in the meantime, which is BS, since that shipper is about the only one we have in all of BC anymore. I only drove an hour, I mean, what’s the point. I’m on eastern time, so 3 hours ahead of them, and going to be a day early. Also, Hwy 3 from Hope to Grand Forks, is horrible and there is no way I want to do it in the dark. It was still dark by the time I left on Tuesday, but was light before I hit the really tight curves going up and down hills. It’s the summer, so it wasn’t as bad as it could be, and I was empty, but I’ve done them in the winter. I never look forward to driving on that road. Made it mid-morning for them, checked in, pointing out I was a day early and they said to drop it, their shunt driver would put it in a door within minutes and within a couple of hours it would be done. Which was great news for me. If I could get in the US a day early, I’d be able to take a two-day weekend. Remember that ‘IF’. The trailer is ready in three hours, but it takes another hour for me to find out because I was looking at the wrong drop lot. I decided to go in and get an update and, on the way, I saw it in the opposite drop lot. Got my papers, confirmed I was good to cross the border and headed to the Laurier crossing. I like it because it isn’t busy and the road on the US side is nice, even if it’s a 2-lane highway. No big hills, few tight curves and only a handful of towns. There is Spokane when it reaches I90, but I found a way around it. It’s a little longer, than driving through Spokane, but a lot easier. Get to the border, go inside. It’s so quiet they don’t have truck booths. I hand in the papers, the officer looked in his is system and asks. “Where’s your permit?” “I’m sorry,” I reply, “What permit?” “your permit to cross here.” Here is the thing. We’ve been crossing at this border for eight months. And we’ve never been asked for a permit. It turns out that no officer should have ever allowed us to cross there, but they weren’t doing their jobs properly. The reason we don’t have a permit is that the shipper never added us to the list of approved Carrier to cross there with their product. I did not know there was such a situation possible. So I turned around, stopped in an aside in the hopes it was an easy fix and called the shipper. Only to find out the person who deals with the border had already left for the day (it was 4pm locally, in the mood I was in, I wasn’t thinking good thing about a person who didn’t have to work until 5pm like all office workers.) I called dispatch to advise them. Drove back to the shipper to park for the night, they are only 10 minutes from the border, another reason I like crossing there. Next morning, 9am their time, noon mine, I go in and find out there’s nothing to be done about it, they can only add a carrier to their list once a year, in December. The closest crossing that is a ‘Commercial Crossing,” is in Ossoyoos, two hours west, over all those horrible hills and turns. Tell dispatch about it, get told it can’t be, we cross at Laurier all the time. I tell them, yes, but we can’t anymore, check with the shipper if you believe your driver is so determined to drive over horrible hills. By the time I bet close to Ossoyoos, I still don’t have my papers so I park at the truckstop there. Only have to wait an hour and I do. I have to drive later than I prefer but I make it to Post Falls, ID, where I like to park anytime I have to cross at that border. My 2-day weekend is gone, but I can take it easy, there’s plenty of time to get to Laredo. Or not. Friday morning my manager, the one who is on vacation, calls me to ask when I’m going to be there. I tell him something on Tuesday. I’m not concerned since it doesn’t need to be there until Friday. He starts asking why so late, it need to be there ASAP. I tell him I need to do a reset (not true, technically, but don’t tell him that) I tell him that the best I can do is be there Monday late afternoon, and he asks why? I have plenty of hours and it’s a holiday on Monday so I need to get there earlier so I can get a load. And here I need to pause. The earliest I could be there, pushing as hard as I legally can would be Sunday, and the office there is closed. If it’s closed on Monday too, what does it matter if I’m there on Monday? If there is a load there for me to pickup on Sunday, it’s still going to be there on Monday. I still don’t budge on my reset. I have stopped caring about them changing delivery times after I’ve done my pickup a long time ago. If I’m given inaccurate information, it is not my problem. He grumbles and tells me to be there Monday without fault, as if I told him I might not make it. So I had to drive a little harder but I got her on Saturday, and rested. One of the things I did while I waited for all that was get more writing done, so you get five chapters of Taking the Line, Chapters 44 to 48. If there is the usual wait time in Laredo, the last five chapters should be done next week. Chapter 16 of Blind Spot is written, and I finished book 5 of LRK’s origin story. 13 chapters. The longest one to date, I hope the longest period. So I’ve started the newest Going Home, which will explore McKannon, the industrial sector of Tiranis, as well as Eric finally making contact with one of his relatives. if you want to read all that, it's only 1$ on my Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/posts/29632610 Another thing I did is take an ADHD test. There’s a warning about how it isn’t a medical tool, but if you score about a certain point, you really should talk to a doctor because, really, you have ADHD. And I do. I didn’t go in hoping I had it, but I strongly suspected I was somewhere on that spectrum. On the lower end, but on it none the less. There someone called ADHD Alien on Tumblr, and they post comics about how ADHD affects their daily lives and quite a few of them resonated with me, but one of the reason I never looked at the condition was that I was successful in school and the stereotype of someone with ADHD as that they aren’t good at school. Things is plenty of people with ADHD are good in school because it’s fun, there’s a lot of new things to learn and we soak up that knowledge easily, so easily most of us never have to bother studying, so we never learn how to study, and then when we hit college, of in my case the last two years of secondary school(I was in Quebec, they have their own system there) things start going badly. I was able to finish Secondary, but College was a bust. I just couldn’t figure out how to study and the concept I now had to deal with were so complex I couldn’t simply absorb them. I mean, I’m bright, but not that bright. So I dropped out, hit the work force and never regretted it. I was also lucky that my parents didn’t have expectations of me going to university and becoming a BIG SHOT™. They were surprised when I dropped out, but it was my life and they let me live it as I wanted. I love them for that. I love them for letting me screw up, then offering to help me up with a “See, that didn’t work, you might want to try something else, I can offer suggestions if you want but that’s up to you.” My mom picked up quicker than my dad that the suggestions that worked best were the kick in the ass kind of things and to then let me assimilate them and proceed. My mom told me months before I did it that I should write in the morning, that’s always been when I was at my best and I snorted, yeah right, mornings, who’s functional then? Eventually I ran out of things to try and did that. When I told my mom that she was right about it she smiled and said “I know.” But yeah, back on the ADHD thing. Learning that it was possible to succeed in school because you had ADHD and then fail for the same reason realigned my thinking. And add to that, that for the few things I can focus laser like on, like my writing, there are tons of them I am incapable of staying focus on. No matter how badly I want to learn them. So, yeah, I have ADHD. Will I seek treatment? No. for me to consider treating any condition I have, it has to either affect my ability to earn a living, or my health(and to be fair, when it comes to my health the potential down side have to be bad for me to even think about talking to a doctor about it) I can do my job without problem; I can do my writing without problems. The rest? Frankly, nothing else matter to a level I am willing to put those two at risk. I don’t Suffer from ADHD, I simply have it. I built my coping mechanism even without knowing I had something. Being Scatter brain? I either write it down, or accept that I will forget about it, and if I forget about it I accept the consequences. I don’t make myself a mess over forgetting it. I fix the problem it caused and move on. I do know now why Minecraft is such a trap for me now. It pulls at my focus by giving me things to do, always more things to do until I reached the point where I’m near panic because I can’t do all of them and I push it away. Until I’ve calmed down. But Minecraft commits the Sin of interfering with my writing by taking over that mental space. It’s why I no longer play it. It’s also why the craving is always there, but me and cravings are old friends. I have no issues staring him down. Okay, this is way longer than I expected so I’m going to pass on the movie and book review this week. You' all have fun, and come on, talk to me. Ask me questions, share your stories, it gets lonely talking to the void<chuckles> And that’s it, so I’ll see you on the next one.

Posted using PostyBirb

[kyouryokusenshi]

Into the Unknown (4/?)

Tagging @today-in-fic

The room was uncomfortably silent at Scully's revelation. Monica and Walter didn’t move, they just watched in shock as Scully struggled to hold back tears. Part of her still couldn't believe the news. After taking another deep breath, she finally spoke up, "I know it's impossible. It's a miracle. I always feared the truth about William’s conception from the moment I found out I was pregnant. But this time things are different. I know with absolute certainty that this child wasn't part of any experiment." Scully thought back to the vision of the ultrasound William shared with her. Thirteen weeks. There was only one possible night she could have conceived. One thing she couldn't explain however, was how she knew this baby was a girl. Maybe that was just maternal instinct. Skinner thought back to the car ride over to Norfolk and felt terrible. He sensed something was up when Scully asked for his help, but back then he didn't think too much of it. She had come to him before when Mulder had taken that case with Father Joe into his own hands. He wasn't sure he would have told Scully about William had he known she was carrying another child. He couldn't even begin to imagine how that knowledge might have affected her current pregnancy. "I assume Mulder knows?" he asked.

Scully nodded.

"Congratulations, Dana. I mean it," Monica said.

"Thank you."

Monica pulled her friend in for a tight hug. She would have known before anyone else if the smoking bastard had laid another hand on her. This was a miracle. "You're right, Dana," Monica said as if to assuage any fears her friend might be holding back.

"It is a miracle. If there was any....intervention, I would have told you,” said Monica.

Scully smiled and nodded. She had planned to keep the baby a secret for a little while longer, but she didn't know when she'd see her friend again. It was comforting to be able to share this knowledge with a trusted friend, especially since she delivered her first child. Just then, the door to Skinner's room was thrown open.

Scully and Reyes startled and turned around to be met face to face with Kersh. To say he looked pissed off was an understatement. "Step outside Agents," he ordered. 

Scully narrowed her eyes before turning back to Skinner who nodded as if to tell her to go along with it. Monica looked over at Scully as they both left the room.

"What is going on here?" Scully demanded.

"What's going on is that an Assistant Director was nearly killed because of your and Mulder's crusade," Kersh spat before turning to Monica, "and another FBI Agent injured."

"Sir," Monica started, "that's not--"

Kersh held his hand up. "You're free to go, Agent Reyes," he said in a tone that indicated he was finished. Monica turned towards Scully and concurred. They had exchanged contact information earlier and had agreed to get in touch once she met up with John. Scully managed a small smile as her friend turned and walked away. Kersh watched the brunette leave before turning back to Scully. "Now I already told Agent Mulder. The X-Files are closed. Even though he is responsible for this, I don't doubt for a minute you were involved in some way. Calls were placed by you from his residence. Not just recently, but on several occasions. Including the incident with Purlieu services."

Scully opened her mouth to speak but couldn't find the words.

"On top of that, I found something else. A marriage certificate indicating you and Mulder got married in the state of Virginia back in 2002. I don't know how on earth that was overlooked when you returned to the bureau, but the Assistant Director will be facing his own disciplinary action for assisting you both with this ridiculous quest."

Scully began to feel rage boiling through her veins. She knew where Kersh was going with his accusations. She reached into her coat and thrusted her gun and badge at him. "You may be able to keep me from walking the halls of the FBI. But this is MY hospital, you can't keep me from making sure he gets the care he needs," she said icily.

Scully quickly brushed past Kersh. Her emotions were bubbling to the surface. The events of the past 48 hours were catching up to her again. 

As she made her way down the corridor to the front entrance of the hospital, she saw Mulder coming towards her, worry evident in his features. "Scully," he said, relieved to see her. When he saw her face, he knew something was wrong. She said nothing but allowed him to place his arms around her shoulders. Together, they left the hospital. When they arrived at Mulder’s car, Scully checked to see if they were alone, then pulled Mulder close and sighed as he wrapped his arms around her. She liked to maintain a strong public demeanor, but today she allowed herself to crumble in Mulder's arms. His embrace was a great comfort. He was the only person aside from her mother who had seen her true self, including her vulnerable side. They knew the X-Files would be closed because of everything that happened. Their son was the reason they came back to the bureau in the first place. Finding him so they could stop the virus was the only thing that mattered. What was left to search now? They found their son but had to let him go. They had to focus on their new baby.

Mulder and Scully returned home a short while later. She told Mulder that she had a chance to see Monica Reyes before she was discharged and that she would stay in touch with her after she located John Doggett in California.  "Kersh knows about the marriage certificate," Scully sighed. Mulder shrugged. He wasn't entirely surprised. Skinner had pulled a lot of strings to get them back into the bureau. Things were overlooked during that process, including his depression. Technically he shouldn't have even been carrying a gun. Mulder was still slightly on edge, he knew there were cameras in the Purlieu building. It would only be a matter of time until he would likely face murder charges. He didn't want to scare Scully though. It was the last thing she needed right now. "We did what needed to be done, Scully. Unless you don't want to be married to me anymore," he teased, trying to lighten the mood. 

Even though they had been physically separated for a few years, neither of them had the resolve to file for a dissolution of marriage. They had arrived at the decision to get married following Mulder's trial back in 2002 while they were on the run. It would protect Scully from ever having to testify against him again, should it ever come to that. A piece of paper didn't dictate their feelings, however. The feelings they had for one another were more complex and went beyond the widely understood definition of marriage. 

Scully smiled. "Of course, I do, and I don't want to hide it anymore. We're having a child together, Mulder. I want us to be a family officially. But no one is going to call me Mrs. Fox Mulder."

"Understood," he said as he wrapped his arms around her. "No more telling people I'm not your husband though. We both know that's a lie."

"We should probably get rings, huh?" Mulder smiled. The idea of living together officially as a married couple with their baby filled him with overwhelming happiness. 

Scully smiled. "Yeah, but it has to be something fairly practical. We can't always wear rings at the hospital." They hadn't really discussed where they would go with the X-Files being closed, but Mulder imagined Scully would eventually go back to work at the hospital. Mulder nodded. "Okay, we can plan a trip to Kay Jewelers after our trip to IKEA."

"I thought we already made all those repairs after the incident with Purlieu," Scully said. The mere mention of that name made Mulder's blood run cold again.He pushed that thought from his mind. "Well we should probably start getting ready for the baby. You're already more than three months along, we have less than six months to get everything ready!" Mulder reached out and touched the small rounded bump of her abdomen. 

Scully smiled and placed her hand over his. "Oh...you're right. I still can't believe this is happening."

The sound of tires hitting the graveled driveway startled them both and Scully moved towards the kitchen window. "Were you expecting someone?"

Mulder followed closely behind her. "No," he said as a sense of dread settled over him.

Scully pulled back the curtain to see two familiar black SUV's driving up to the front of their house. To her surprise, Mulder pulled her back from the window and placed his hands on her shoulders. Scully was startled by the sudden movement. "Is there something you aren't telling me?" She nearly demanded. Mulder looked away and sighed, overwhelmed with guilt. 

Scully narrowed her eyes. "Mulder, you're scaring me. Why are they here?" Mulder was terrified, for himself, for Scully, and their unborn child. If he had known she was pregnant, maybe he wouldn't have been so stupid and reckless, but he was using whatever means necessary to get to William.

"Do you remember when I told you William wasn't on the plane when I made that trip to Purlieu services?"

Scully looked at him questioningly and opened her mouth to say something, but couldn't speak as she tried to process what he was saying.

"There, may have been a few casualties that involved Mr. Y and others along the way and it wasn't just self defense."

Scully shook her head and he suddenly saw the fear register in her own eyes at the implications. "What are you saying, Mulder?"