#don’t be mad when the plot twist is set up to be a plot twist

[valengory1234]

So many people are up in arms about Luke being so sweet only to become a traitor later

Like y’all?

What do you think makes it a plot twist??

[turtletaubwrites]

Same Time

Thank you, anon for this delicious request! I hope you enjoy it! 🔥

Pairings: Sanji x Fem!Reader x Zoro

Word Count: 1123

Ao3 Link

Summary: Your boyfriends are always arguing, but sometimes you're the one that wins the fight. Tonight the battle is for who gets to go first.

Rating/Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Swearing, Arguing, Smut, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Threesome - F/M/M, Penis in Vagina Sex, Unprotected Sex, (be safe out there), Rough Sex, Cunnilingus, Creampie, Come Eating, Hair-Pulling, Biting, Spanking (barely), Polyamory, Established Relationship, Pet Names, Shameless Smut

A/N: This request was so 🥵🥵 I hope I did it justice!

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Your boyfriends were always competing.

Who could take down the most enemies? Who could hunt down the biggest beast for dinner?

Who could make you come the most times in one night? 

Their bickering could be cute or frustrating depending on the day, but you quickly learned that there was no way to stop them. Luckily, certain battles ended with you as the winner.

I should have brought a book with me.

“I’m first tonight, cook. You went first last time.”

“You’re too rough when you start, moss head. Our princess deserves more attention before you hammer away at her.”

You sat up a little straighter at the kitchen counter as their argument leaned closer to what you’d been looking forward to all day. 

“Nah, she loves it when I ruin that pussy, don’t you,” Zoro teased, pulling you off of your stool to press you up against the counter. “Bet you want me to take you right now, huh?”

“Let me make her come on my tongue first,” Sanji demanded, tugging at your wrist, stopping as Zoro refused to let you move. “Since you’re too lazy to care for her.”

Their feud continued on for long enough that Zoro’s arms loosened their grip, so you pulled away to walk toward the door.

“Sweetheart, are you alright?”

“Where ya going?”

Rounding on them, you couldn’t help the hint of sharpness in your voice at all the time wasted. 

“I’m tired. You’ve spent so much time arguing about who gets to do what first that I’m not into it anymore.”

The guilt on both of their faces was almost cute, although Zoro looked like he was itching to stay mad. 

“So, I’m gonna go get myself off and pass out, unless you two can agree on something in the next thirty seconds.”

Your cook and your swordsman had another rapid fire argument while you tapped your wrist until they practically yelled their decision.

“Same time!”

“What?”

“Come here,” Zoro growled, as they both moved toward you, the dark looks in their eyes making you shiver. 

Finally.

There was nothing like having these two men touching your skin at once. All that annoyance was forgotten as strong hands and warm lips took control.

Sanji made you moan when his fingers twisted into your hair, cradling your head as his lips found yours. Zoro’s rough hands trailed down your back, gripping into your hips before pulling your pants off, leaving you bare. He left a gentle kiss on your ass cheek followed by a hard smack that made you yelp into Sanji’s mouth.

The blonde pulled back with that look, almost a snarl as he shot cold eyes at Zoro. He caught your glare before he spoke, and kissed your cheek as he helped you out of your shirt. 

“Bet you’re already drenched for me,” Zoro teased. You cried out his name as the silky hardness of his cock rubbed along your ass.

Sanji guided you, setting your hands along the edge as he went to his knees between you and the counter. The eye not hidden by his hair filled with a heat that parted your lips. 

“Same time,” he breathed against your thigh, not speaking to you. 

“Same time,” Zoro agreed, rubbing his tip along your folds before lining himself up behind you. 

“Oh gods,” you moaned softly as Sanji’s mouth found your clit, that tongue starting to play right as Zoro slammed into you. 

“So fucking wet,” Zoro laughed, fingers digging into your hips as he found his brutal pace.

Strangled moans and screams left your throat, and you clung to the edge of the counter as you fell apart, already so close.

The heavy thrusts of that thick cock inside you along with that wicked tongue on your clit was unreal, overwhelming, fucking incredible. 

“Gods, this pussy is fucking tight,” Zoro hissed, between sucking and biting at your neck. “Gonna fill you up so good.”

Your knees were going weak, but Zoro kept his grip, while Sanji wrapped his arms around your legs, shoving his face even closer. His tongue explored further, licking along your folds. Zoro moaned in your ear as Sanji’s tongue tasted along your entrance, as if wanting to join that thick cock in fucking you. 

Sanji left a deep hum of pleased laughter against you, the vibrations making your eyes roll back. Zoro’s thrusts staggered, his breath hot against your ear.

“You’re fucking filthy,” he growled, somehow slamming into you harder. “We’re gonna fuck so much come into you tonight, you won’t be able to walk. You want that?”

He tore a scream from your throat in answer as his movements became frantic. 

“You taste like heaven, mon coeur. Do you like my tongue on your clit?”

The loss of his tongue where you needed it brought your eyes down to his, that mischievous glee doing you in. 

“Fuck, Sanji. Please…”

“Anything for you, my love.”

Sanji wrapped his lips around that sensitive bundle of nerves and sucked, just as Zoro bit down on your neck hard. 

Your mind went fucking blank. All the sensations, all the pleasure poured through your body. Zoro groaned with your flesh still in his teeth as you milked his cock. You felt him twitching inside you, throbbing, spilling hot ropes of come, filling you up. Sanji moaned around your pulsing clit, still sucking until you were about to go insane from the overstimulation. 

Their strong hands held you up as you thrashed, your throat gone raw with screams. 

Sanji finally released your clit as Zoro slowed, making the swordsman moan again as he licked along your entrance, definitely licking that sensitive cock as it pulled out of you.

“Oh, fuck. San–”

Instead of helping you collapse, Zoro fisted his hand into your hair, holding you around the waist with his free hand while he shoved his tongue down your throat, interrupting your cries. 

Your eyes were rolling white as Sanji moved beneath you. That sinful tongue ate at you like you were a bowl of something sweet, eating up that mixture of pleasure you and Zoro had created. 

Tears streamed from your eyes, but your boys didn’t stop until Sanji had licked up every drop of come, kissing your thighs. Zoro helped you lie on the ground, your head in his lap while you watched Sanji strip. 

“So,” Zoro teased, tracing his rough fingers over the marks on your neck, “Which do you think is better?”

“Huh?”

Words were still distant, especially as Sanji leaned closer, rubbing his hands along your thighs. 

“Do you prefer to have the brutal assault, or the tender affection first, princess?”

An insatiable smile touched your lips as you moved your gaze between them. 

“Same time, please.”

Likes and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you so much!

a/n: What do you think? I think both is good 🥰

tags: @shewrites02 | @jadeddangel

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[augustvandyne]

Hey! could you please right a natasha x wife r? Idk if you remember when the avengers have to take refuge and they have to go to clints house (he's reluctant bc he has a secret family only nat knows about)? well could you write it so it's actually nats family that no one knows about? and she's super reluctant to take them there

everyone's alive and no one knew she had a family (not even clint) and the timeline is SUPER wack bc plot twist, yelenas already there. the avengers are hurt nat didn't tell them and they're kinda mad too

nats wife doesn't like having them there bc it's her home and they're putting them all in more danger then they normally are in. the kids don't like them either bc they 'take their mom away' or something like that (but the kids adooore their aunt yelena)

this is super long I'm sorry but the idea has been plaguing my head and I feel like it would be fun to read about. thank you and have a great day!

hi! yes! don’t worry about it being too long, i’ll listen to and write whatever thoughts you have.

safehouse

You and Yelena were baking a cake when pack of Avengers came piling through the front door.

You were expecting Natasha later in the week, and alone. Not with the danger that is literally standing in your doorway.

That was the best part of this place, there was no danger. Nat left work at work, and when she came home all she focused on was her family—you, Yelena, and your two lovely children.

So you were definitely surprised, and not happy, to see the other five Avengers.

You walk further into the living room, and when Nat sees you, her face is immediately apologetic.

“Babe—“

“Who are all these people?” Yelena comes and stands beside you in the living room, staring up at all the men.

“This is Steve, Clint, Tony, Thor, and Bruce. They’re my friends,” Natasha shrugs.

“Uh, no, we’re not your friends now,” Clint crosses his arms with sass.

“They’re the Avengers,” You correct your wife. “And they shouldn’t be here.”

“Listen, I wasn’t going to even bring them here, but—“

“It’s our fault, ma’am,” Steve interrupted.

“Oh, here we go,” Tony throws his hands in the air.

“What?” Steve whines.

“First the language, and now the manners. Good god,” Tony rolls his eyes.

“Okay, take it elsewhere. More preferably, back to where you came from,” You fake smile, earning a glare from Nat.

“Where are the kids?” Nat asks, and you get the feeling she needs to talk. Alone.

“Upstairs in the playroom. Yelena, why don’t you take them outside to play on the swing set?” You ask sweetly.

“Ah, gotcha,” Yelena gave a look to Natasha that said, good luck.

The kids say hello to Nat, made faces at the men still in your living room, and then squealed with joy out the door because their mama is home.

You looked away from the door and back up at the Avengers once again. Nat softly grabs you by the arm and pulls your towards the other side of the living room.

“What are they doing here, Nat?” You lean closer, your foreheads slightly touching.

“I had no other choice,” Natasha’s raspy voice makes it hard not to forgive her.

You sigh and purse your lips.

“Really,” Nat insists. “If there was any other choice, I would have made it. We just got into a little trouble, and need to camp out for a few days.”

You made a vow not to ask what trouble she was in, so you kept your mouth shut when she says this.

“Okay. But if there’s even a little bit of damage to the house, they are paying for it,” You lift your head up and walk back towards the group, Natasha following close behind.

Nat glances your way, then back at the boys, “We can stay here. But only for a few days.”

“So this is where Lady Natasha goes every time she takes off,” Thor nods.

“Yes. A home we didn’t even know about?” Bruce shakes his head.

“I can’t believe you never told me,” Clint looks genuinely hurt when Nat looks at him. “I thought we were friends.”

“Yeah, what he said,” Tony puts his hand on his chest.

You roll your eyes and head back to the kitchen before the cake burns, letting your wife deal with her friends/fellow Avengers.

You finish the frosting Yelena had started, and ice the cake once it comes out of the oven. You then start on dinner. Something easy everyone can enjoy—pasta.

Dinner goes about as well as you thought it would.

Nat and the kids catch up. She just saw them a week or so ago, so there isn’t much to catch up, but you love watching Natasha play and talk with the kids.

You try not to laugh as the kids keep making faces at the guys.

Your daughter starts to kick Tony in the shin, to which him and your daughter start having a staring contest.

“Okay, what are you guys doing?” Nat asked.

“Your tiny agent keeps kicking me,” Tony says, never taking his eyes off the smaller girl.

“Okay she’s not an agent, and it’s probably because you take her mother away every chance you get,” You sighed with frustration. “Good she’s kicking you, maybe you’ll leave then.”

“Y/n—“

“I’m sorry,” You look at your wife. “I said it was okay, even though you’re putting us it more danger. But, I will try to be civil, but only for Natasha.”

“Thank you.”

Later in the night you had assigned everyone to places in the house to spend the night.

Yelena had volunteered to spend the night with the kids, so at least two people could bunk in there, and it was fine by you because the kids adored Yelena.

So two people slept in Yelena’s room, you had one in the living room, and two in the guest room downstairs.

“They are mad at me, you know?” Nat brushed through her hair.

“They’ll get over it. It’s a safe house,” You wrap your arms around her waist from behind. “You are supposed to keep it secret.”

“I know,” Nat turns so you two are face to face. “I love you, and thank you for letting us stay here. We’ll be out of her in two days, tops.”

“Good,” You plant a kiss on the side of Natasha’s mouth.

“But I might not be back for a while,” Nat cups your cheek in her hand.

“I had a feeling,” You look down.

“I’ll just have to make it up to you.”

“How about you start now?” You lift a brow and squeal as your wife picks you up and puts you on the bed.

Danger aside, you loved having your wife back in your arms, and you were granted with just that from this crazy mission.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Partners in Crime 3

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen, Lee Bodecker

Summary: you’re left reeling after your divorce but the chaos has only begun. (short!reader)

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

The sheriff swings around in a U-turn. Traffics stops for him even without his siren wailing. You lean into the door as he straightens out and weaves into the lanes. He steers back towards the mall to retrace his steps. 

You’re already thinking of that handcrafted decor shop around the corner from your building. You might find something there if you dare to venture within. How many times have you passed and shied away at the crystal tear drop lamp and the lush velvet stool. You let out a breath slowly, careful not to let the sigh grow too loud. 

“So, what d’ya do then?” The sheriff asks, startling you from your internal plotting. 

“Um, oh, just... I work at the pharmacy. Stock shelves,” you admit with shame. 

“Hard work,” he remarks. From anyone else, it would be mocking, but he sounds oddly genuine. “Too bad your day off got spoiled.” 

“Yeah, I guess, but...” you tap your fingertips together, “it’s okay.” 

“Hmm,” he hums as he slows, his blinker clicking loudly, “sounds like you’re used to disappointment.” 

That cuts. You shrink back. You’re sure he meant nothing by it but it’s true. You don’t expect anything but so today is hardly daunting. 

“A little. I...” you stammer. People don’t ask about you. They look past you, through you. As much as your grandmother’s saved your ass, she never talked about your old life. It was a forbidden subject. “I just got a divorce.” 

You don’t know why you said it. Maybe because you hadn’t said it out loud before. It feels like a rock sinking in water. 

He clucks, “now that’s too bad. What kinda man would leave a thing like you?” 

You peek up and meet his gaze in the rear view. A tide washes over you. You look down and shrug. You won’t mention that it was long awaited. 

“It’s fine.” 

“It’s okay, it’s fine,” he echoes, “you say that a lot.” 

You inhale sharply and frown, “sorry--” 

“Don’t needa be,” he affirms as he stops again, this time by the mall lot. You look up at the sign in confusion. He’s bringing you back? 

He rolls over the dip in the curb and across the straight white lines across the tarmac. You crane and look around, trying to figure out what’s going on? Maybe he’s just cutting through to avoid the lunch time rush. 

He stops and idles near a set of metal doors to the rear of the mall. You twist this way and that then look to the front seat. Before you can ask what’s going on, the passenger door opens and someone gets in. Someone! That man. The one with the mustache. 

But the sheriff doesn’t respond with shock or outrage. He doesn’t get mad. He just nods at the man and leans into the gas pedal. Your heart pumps painfully. 

“Sheriff?” You eke out. 

The mustachioed man chuckles but says nothing else. The officer doesn’t answer you either. You pull against your seat belt and touch the plexiglass divider, “sheriff? What’s going on?” 

He stomps on the break and the motion forces you back against the seat. You let out and oomf as the impact knocks the wind from you. There’s another laugh from the furry-lipped criminal. What’s happening? 

“What are you doing?” You whine. 

“He said she was quiet,” the man in the passenger seat mutters. 

“She’ll calm down,” the sheriff says. 

“Hey! Please,” you lean forward again and hit the thick barrier. “Tell me what’s going on--” 

“Don’t make me come back there, pussy cat,” the passenger warns and smirks at you over his shoulder.  

“Now, darlin’,” the sheriff drives the limit, coolly following the current of traffic, “you hush up back there and don’t get yourself all worked up.” 

“You said—he's--” you stutter, your breath hitch as your heart beat builds tempo. You writhe and clap your hands to your chest as it racks. “He’s-- help!” 

You gulp in breaths but they only make your head throb. Your lashes flutter wildly as panic rings in your ears. Something bad is happening. They know each other. They are working together. But why? 

“Well you just told me you were all alone and you work a job you ain’t like, kitten,” the sheriff tuts, “so why you actin’ up when we’re takin’ you away from all that?” 

“Taking...” you murmur through shallow heaves, “away...” 

You can’t breathe, you can’t think. You rock back and forth, clawing at the seat belt to find the buckle. You unleash it and keel over your lap. You cradle your head as the world thrums around you. 

“Can’t... can’t... breathe--” 

“I told you not to work yourself up,” the sheriff says, “let’s count to ten, darlin’, you do that for me?” 

“Can’t... can’t...” 

“One,” he says firmly. 

“Can’t--” 

“If I gotta pull over, I ain’t gonna be so nice,” his voice dips an octave, “now count with me, kitten. Ten.” 

You quiver and cough, “n-nine--” you blow out and suck air back in, “eight--” 

“That’s a good girl,” he praises, “keep goin’.” 

“Seven,” you wisp and shake around another burning inhale, “six...” you hug your spinning head, “five...” 

You continue the countdown until you get to one. You stay still and silent. Your chest is achy but not bursting. You close your eyes and meter your breathing. This cannot be real. 

“She’s a nervous one,” the other man intones. 

“She’ll settle,” the sheriff assures as the tires spin and the motor hums. “Just gotta take time.” 

“Oh, I got time,” the passenger chortles, “hey, sweet stuff,” there’s a tapping on the glass, “hey,” he calls you by your name. You wince and slowly lift your head. You look up at him with misty eyes, wide with terror. “There you are. Nice to meet ya,” he winks, “Lloyd, but you can call me sir.” 

Your lip quivers and you shake your head. You stare at him, blinking dumbly. He smirks as his eyes rove over you. 

“You’re a cute one, huh? Can’t wait to have some fun with you,” he taunts. 

You whimper and drop your head down again. You don’t understand. You thought the worst thing that could happen had happened. Your grandma, your lawyer, everyone said it was all over. That you’re free.  

How the heck did you walk into another cage? 

“Ah, stop it,” Bodecker snips, “you’re gonna get her upset again.” 

“I’m just introducing myself.” 

“Sure,” the sheriff drawls skeptically, “you always do know how to make things worse, don’t ya?” 

“I said I’d be nice. I’m being nice,” Lloyd blusters, “damn it, officer, I’m abiding the law.” 

His last few words are slanted with mimicry of the other man’s accent. Bodecker huffs and the engine accelerates. You stay curled up, completely paralysed to the situation. If you stay like that, it might just not be real. Hiding never helped did it. Turn out, neither does running. 

[tanglepelt]

Dp x dc idea thing. 44

Someone says the forbidden words. I wish. Now it was a child’s wish. I wish we all were with our familles. One meant to be nice.

A ghost attack had caused the collapse of a roof. The child was just happened to be in a room with the trio. Danny hadn’t even had the chance to transform.

As Desiree twists her wishes. The worst thing for Danny happened. You see he was adopted. After he failed a mission for the league rather then return he noped out of there. Granted the mission was set up to fail. He overheard his twin discussing it with mother.

Being adopted by two mad scientists at 6 was the biggest reason they never found out he survived. The Fentons were astonished by his story. Helped hide him and forged new papers. Quickly accepting him as their own son. The family had no social media presence minus the Fentonwork site, no mentions of children.

Rather then be returned to the Fentons a green portal dumped him in the middle of a grand dinning room. A ton of blue eyed black haired people eating dinner. The one that stood out was the one with green eyes.

Nope.

No

No way

Well then the green eyed one lunges at him.

Okay maybe.

When he starts yelling about impersonating his dead twin. How dare grandfather clone him. Honestly he wasn’t listening until he spoke of killing all the other clones.

Yup. That was Damian.

If vlad could make clones he has no doubt grandfather could. For all he knows vlad could have handed the info over to him for some of the rancid ectoplasm they had at the base.

He knew the truth now.

The Lazarus pits was just remnants from the river of revulsion. It’s a wonder they brought anyone back.

Honestly Damian charging him was a pain. Danny didn’t even know how his twin suddenly had a sword. Getting cut was enough of that. This was a dinning room not a training room. He was just going to have to dine and dash.

He really needs to thank jazz and sam for getting him back into physical training. He enjoyed not worrying about it 24/7. Then the whole dying had to happen. As such he got back into it. This was starting to tire him out.

From the lack of people getting out of the way. They must be used to this chaos. The look in there eyes indicated they were going to get involved. Honestly he’d rather not.

Realistically he doesn’t think Damian would be able to find him. The fentons and then tucker have helped to conceal him. By all accounts his past life never existed. Only Daniel Fenton did. Amity was a nowhere town mostly hidden by the government anyways. The whole ghost thing was meant to stay secret.

They didn’t want people poking around there.

Danny was aware it just helped hide him so why expose it. Tucker sam and jazz knew. They all could bypass it.

With a sigh and a wave of his hand he froze them in place.

“Let all just cool down here. Damian i have and had no intentions of ever seeing you again. But genies like to twist wishes unfortunately. Desiree just had to screw me over specifically to get me out of town.”

“For all i care keep your title as heir, I’m much happier playing dead. I’m already half way there. Don’t look for me. You get to be the superior twin”

“No need for late night plots on how to kill me or prove yourself. Enjoy. I have friends and family to get back to.”

With a snap of his finger a green portal opened in front of Danny.

“The ice will disappear in five minutes or so. If i remember to unfreeze it” grabbing one of the rolls on the table. Danny left through the portal.

What Danny didn’t know was his twin had been trying to find ways around the botched mission. Grandfather has only wanted one heir. Easiest way to get that was to dispose of the youngest.

[eeunoia]

ENHYPEN Series

sinag — psh.

chapter one

synopsis: waiting for a great plot twist in your life, the ruthless and powerful mafia boss park sunghoon forced his way in to it.

pairings: park sunghoon x oc

word count: 3k

warnings: a contains violence, guns, killings, abuse, obsessive love & other stuff. if you can't take this stuff, feel free to scroll away. let me know if i missed some.

note: i didn’t proof read this lol, anywayy ask are open for your messages. thank you so much for reading.

© 2023 eeunoia — all rights reserved.

here ‹ prelude | chapter two › here

Tonight is the night before your flight for the said business trip your boss has told you. Everything was set already. Accomodation for two weeks, your passport and the things you packed for the whole thing is all prepared.The only thing that you forgot was to tell your boyfriend about it. It was kind of your fault since you’ve kept missing the chance of breaking the news to him. He’s also pretty busy lately, always out with either his friends or officemates.

You snapped back to reality when you heard the beeping sound of your apartment door. Worried, but also excited to see your boyfriend again after two days, you jumped off from your seat to come greet him. The two of you decided you’ll have dinner together tonight to make up with days you didn’t spend time with one another.

You imagined the two of you enjoying your dinner, talking about the past days of your lives that you missed, catching up with one another and just moments you will share intimately as a couple. But all of that came crumbling down your feet when you saw him entering drunk.

“Are you drunk?” your words falls from your lips even before your mind can process it.

He smiles and it was enough to tell that he’s so not himself right now. Even if he can walk by his own, his mind is surely intoxicated by alcohol. He reeks off alcohol that made you furrow your brows that it upsets you.

“I cannot believe that you are drunk right now! We said we will have dinner tonight.” you didn’t even bother helping him take his shoes off. You crossed your arm and stare at him with disappointed look.

“I’m not...” he stalls with his words. “...drunk.” he top it off with a hiccup. You rolled your eyes and walked towards the dining table where all the cooked food were neatly placed.

“Wait, babe. Don’t be mad.” he even tries to come after you, shaking his head a bit like it will solve everything.

“I’m sorry,” he starts. “It was a rough week in the office and everyone wants to go out for a few drinks. I couldn’t decline because I don’t want to seem like I’m killing the fun and not being there for them.” he continued to blabber and almost all of his words were familiar. His reasons seams like it has been repeated. It was honestly tiring even for you.

“Please don’t be mad. I made it. I’m here already.” he smiles and walks over to you. He leans in and you tried not to move away to make him upset. The strong smell of alcohol clearly insinuates that he didn’t have just a few drinks, but you didn’t comment on that. Instead you let him place a chaste kiss over your cheeks once.

“Okay. Take a sit so we can eat. I’ll serve you a soup to help you shake off the alcohol in you.” he seems fine with it, the smile on his face remained as he walks over to his sit.

You stood up and started taking care of your boyfriend while thinking of a way you can open up the thing about your trip. Its tomorrow already and even if you two have days you don’t meet each other, your boyfriend hates it whenever you go far from him. It was seriously a redflag, but since you aren’t really into going out of the country anymore, it was a non-argument matter. You just leave it as it is for the sake of the relationship.

“Here,” you placed it in front of him as you told him to dig up.

You start to slowly eat too, not really enjoying it. A part of you are still upset for him showing up drunk, another part are nervous. A very big chance of him getting upset about it was already expected by you, but he cannot do anything about it.

“Oh, right..” your eyes looks up to him when he suddenly talked after taking a sip from his soup.

You looked at him with anticipation.

“I’m quitting my job.” he dropped it like he was just announcing you that he will get a haircut.

Your hold to your utensils loosen as you try to process what he just said. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I’m quitting my job. I submit my resignation letter today.” and then he casually went back to his soup.

You have no words. You don’t know what to say or if you have the energy to say something. He is really not the type to exert effort into something. Countless times he has done this already. Quitting his job out of nowhere, depending on you.

“Why? I thought you’re doing great.”

He swallows first and shrugs his shoulder, unbothered. “I can’t stand my boss. He’s too cocky and he always just see wrong in everything I do. It’s like he just targets me without any sense. You will not understand!” he even waves his hand like as an act of dismissing the topic.

“Then how are you suppose to pay for your rent? Your bills and food?”

His head lifts up and he mindlessly roams his eyes around your apartment.

“I can crash here for the mean time.” he says, “You wouldn’t let your boyfriend sleep on the streets, right? Come on, Ae.” he gave you this pitiful look on his face.

“You can’t be serious, Luke.” when you said those words, you saw how his expression changed.

He looked utterly pissed with the way you said those words to him.

“Don’t act all might just because you are enjoying your work! It won’t be too long, just until I find another work.”

You shut your eyes for a while and slowly lets go of your utensils then brush some of your hair away from your face. Here you thought you will have some time you can enjoy and let out your stress about work and your parents, only to be slapped with another set of problems.

“Okay.” you says since its not like he gave you other choice. He’s your boyfriend and you know you don’t have the will to let him leave in the streets.

“Thank you, babe. I promise I will make it up to you!” he sounded so giddy after securing a spot on your apartment.

“Can you drive me tomorrow?” your eyes dropped to your food, avoiding his gaze because you can feel yourself feeling worried about how he will react.

“Sure! To where?”

“The airport.” you gulped and raised your head to look at him. His brows furrowed out of confusion then he tilts his head.

“To the airport? Why?” he already have an idea in his mind, he’s not that dumb. But he wanted to hear it from you because he can’t believe it. He doesn’t even want to believe. You hate going out of the country.

“My boss is sending me there for a business trip and seminar—” the clash of his spoon to his bowl interrupted you.

“Your boss?” he scoffed. “If I know he’s just using that as an excuse to spend time with you. Is that how you get promotions?” his accusation made your stomach twist. The words coming out from his mouth just don’t make sense to you. He is being unreasonable and you are feeling so upset about it.

“Don’t even go there! You know how hard I work for this job!” your voice raised that made him annoyed. It shouldn’t be like this, but because of all the things going on lately you’re mentally can’t deal with it in a calm way.

He stood up, smashing the table. “Yeah, right.” and with that he grabs his things before heading towards the door of your apartment.

“Go drive yourself tomorrow.” he sarcastically uttered before he slammed it close behind his back.

You rest your head on the back of your hand while feeling so stressed. The night was ruined and you have no idea where did it take turn. It was suppose to be a great dinner.

After letting yourself space out and process things up, you decided to be the more mature in the relationship.

“Hey, Luke. Uhm,” you sighs and gently massaged your temple while you leave a message in his voice mails. “I’m sorry if I just told you about the trip. I promise that I will be alone there and my boss will be here so there’s nothing to worry about, babe. I know you’re probably stressed up about work too, I shouldn’t have shouted. Call me, love you.”

You stared at your phone for a couple of minutes. The picture of you and your boyfriend looked cute, but for some reasons you can’t feel anything special from it. Luke has been your boyfriend for a year and its fun with him. He’s goofy and caring. He might lack at some point, but you love him. And he loves you. It’s just normal for couples to argue from time to time.

You almost didn’t get any sleep because of it. The next morning, you did drove yourself to the airport after not receiving and calls nor messages from Luke. Maybe he’s really upset and mad about it. While waiting for your flight, you fidget with your phone hoping he will call or anything. Your heart feels a little heavy thinking that you will be away from him for tqo weeks and you had a fight before leaving.

When you are asked to board the plane already, your feet felt heavy every step you take. Before handing your ticket to a staff, your head craned to look over your shoulder. No familiar sight of your boyfriend anywhere. Right there you are slightly wishing for a movie like scene where the main lead guy will come running for the girl main lead then they will hug and kiss. None of that happened.

While sitting on your seat, a small idea occupies your mind unknowingly.

‘Is he not the main lead on your story? Is Luke not the one for you?’

A week later.

Sunghoon’s jaw clenched as he stepped on the accelerator of his car. His mind blank and his grip on the steering wheel was tight, continuously cursing people silently.

His eyes darted at his phone when he saw his friend’s caller id flashing.

“Hello.” he lazily answered.

“Where you are right now, Hoon?” it was Jake.

“On my way.” he responded before swiftly checking his side mirrors if there’s any vehicle behind. Once he’s clear, he steps on speed again to pass the cars in front of him.

He clicks something to his phone, “Ni-ki, update on Jungwon’s location.”

“Sending it to you as we speak, hyung.” the younger one says from the other line.

He didn’t replied and so Ni-ki talked. “Hyung are you using your sports car again? Make sure to park a few blocks away from the warehouse! Your car is so loud I can hear it from the other street.” he complains.

Sunghoon hears chuckles from the call, probably from their other friends that are connected right now and listening. He smirks and click his tongue to the side of his cheeks.

“I can be as loud as I can if I want because I will make sure none of them will walk out alive from that fucking warehouse.”

“Yeah yeah, just get here faster hyung.” Ni-ki teased him.

“I can’t believe they think they can get rid of Jungwon hyung this easily? We are given brains for a reason.” Ni-ki blabbers that made his other hyung chuckle.

Sunghoon smirks as he made a turn towards a more secluded part of the town. Soon no facilities or houses are seen, this time its more trees and fewer street lights. Its surely a perfect spot to take someone and torture them without getting interrupted by anyone.

“I don’t know, Ni-ki. I feel like you will do the same if it were for your girl.” Sunghoon says taunting him.

Jake chuckles lightly and shakes his head while listening to the two. It was a normal thing already.

“Whatever hyung! At least I don’t search for someone you aren’t sure if she truly exists.” that was a button you shouldn’t push with Sunghoon.

Even before he can say something, Sunoo went in between.

“Enough bickering both of you. Geez, you act like kids all the time. We’re in the middle of something serious here.” they can almost see him rolling his eyes.

“Thanks, Sunoo.” Jake grins.

“Where are you, Sun?” Sunghoon says as he slows down his car after noticing that he’s getting closer to the pinned location Ni-ki sent him.

“I’m here already, hyung. Hurry up.”

“Almost there.” he stops his car and went to the back of it. He opens the back to get his gun. One big gun, sniper use. Then one small gun that have a silencer, incase he needed something more convenient.

“Finally,” Ni-ki whispers. “I thought you forgot how map works and you got lost.”

Sunghoon raised his fist and act like he will hit Ni-ki, but the younger one already pulled Jake to shield him. It was funny because he was taller from the latter and so Sunghoon can still clearly hit him.

“You two stop it. Jay and Heeseung already sneaks inside. Sunghoon hyung you need to go and find your spot.” Sunoo.

He nods and approached Ni-ki to give him a slight pinch to his ears when he saw someone walking out from the warehouse.

“Don’t move, Riki,” he instructs and quickly rest his hand holding the gun at Ni-ki’s shoulder.

One click to his gun and he didn’t miss. The man fell to the ground lifeless without any of his alliance knowing.

“Nice shot.” Jake compliments.

“Thanks.” and he starts moving inside to go at a higher place for better view of the warehouse.

Thankfully, he find a ladder that leads towards an upper part of it. The moment he carefully made his way to go look down to what’s happening, he saw Sangwon beating up Jungwon. Not just him, he’s surrounded by a lot of guys.

“Do you have eyes on the target?” Jake talks on their intercom.

“Target lock.” he whispers and points the gun to Sangwon.

“Should I kill him on the spot?”

“No. At least give that honor to the love birds.” Ni-ki stated and he can hear grunts from him. Seems like he’s taking care of the people outside.

“Okay. Give me a signal, Jake.”

He waits patiently even though his hand were already itching to pull the trigger and send a bullet straight to his head. The sight of his friend being beaten up surely isn’t pleasant to watch to.

“Now.”

After hearing that, Sunghoon effortlessly sniped Sangwon and some of the guys around Jungwon. The baffled look over Shaun and Mr. Cha’s face made them look even more stupid for Hoon. It didn’t made him feel any better or made his mood lighter. If anything, he’s starting to feel bored and want to end them all at once.

When he saw Jay and his Heeseung hyung getting in the scene, he leans over a metal railing then silently watch. He’s so sure his presence are still unknown by the masterminds, but he doesn’t care. This is usually what Sunghoon enjoys. He love it whenever his target are unaware of the danger that awaits them.

In the mafia world, there’s also a food chain. The most influential and powerful mafias are at the top of it or what they call predators, while the ones beneath them are like their preys. And Sunghoon’s a predator. He’s definitely and no doubt a predator, hunting for its prey. He loves it. He loves being at the top of the food chain.

“Why don’t you get down here and join us, Hoon?” Jake asks.

“I can perfectly see you guys from up here.” he says before letting out a sigh.

“Besides, I’m very pissed right now so if I go down there, I might take the spotlight an kill them on the spot. They ruined my vacation.” he added.

Jake chuckles, clearly know what he’s referring to. He was about to leave the country for his vacation, in other term to go search for this girl. It was already known around their friend group.

“Hyung, for a correction, you aren’t on a vacation. You’re on a hunt.” Ni-ki teased.

“Fuck you Nishimura. Who even agreed to take you here?”

“Heeseung hyung did! And besides, I was the one who searched for Sangwon’s whereabouts.”

“I sniped him down.” Sunghoon says like as if challenging the younger one.

It would’ve been yet another unstoppable bickering, but thankfully Sunoo manages to stop them. They all took care of the situation and Sunghoon silently withdraws from the scene.

“Boss.” he hold his phone near his ears while puffing smoke from his cigarette. He’s leaning over his car, trying to relax himself.

“Ready my plane, Icarus. We’re flying tonight.” he instructed his assistant before ending the call and tossing the cigarette to the floor.

He opens his car’s door and swiftly puts some of his stuff inside.

“Leaving already?” his head snaps to the side and saw his friend.

“Yeah. I have to go somewhere.”

Jake nods his head. “Jungwon’s beaten badly and got shot, but he will be fine.”

Sunghoon smirks, “He should be. He owes me one.” he says. They both chuckle and even without saying it, they knew this is something they will always do in a heart beat.

“I will go visit Jungwon, but I’ll take my leave for now. Just do the honor of informing our friends.” Sunghoon says and went closer to give Jake a dap.

“Oh don’t worry, dude. I’m sure they already know even if I don’t say it.” and he grins.

“Whatever.” and he went inside his car.

“Go find her.”

“I will.” he answers confidently and drove away from his friend, with a small hope inside his heart that this time, he will find you.

here ‹ prelude | chapter two › here

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tag-list:

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[queerponcho]

Transfixed | part 3

previous part | part 4

collage made by me with pictures from pinterest

moonknight!system x female!reader

a/n: AHHH- Thank you all so much for reblogging, liking and commenting on my past chapters!!! I just reached 50 reblogs and it honestly means the world that people are embracing a newbie like me (✿◠‿◠)

Warnings: no use of Y/N, fluff, NOT beta read, gushing about the moonboys, flustered awkward dorks, plot-twists, Jake being a menace, (eventual smut, the chapters will be marked individually), inaccurate depictions of DID, egyptian mythology and religion (although I did extensive research I took liberty in changing some things to adhere to my plot...), if I missed anything or made any spelling mistakes pls don't hesitate to tell me!

Summary: Steven and Marc have a little...carfuffle when Jake finally lets them front again, after days of taking over. The date plans are set and both parties eager to meet soon but are we surprised when things don't go as planned..?

2,200 words

Steven at home

‘I can’t believe this- how does this even happen Steven?’

‘Mate, I don't know! You were there weren’t you? You know how it happened…’

‘So you’re tellin’ me that any pretty girl can just sit there and you will literally tell them all about our personal business???'

‘How else was I supposed to find out about Jake huh?? Say that he’s my identical twin brother and then have to explain myself-'

‘Steven you would never have had to explain anything! Because this was supposed to be ONE conversation over a non-committal coffee- not a damn first date.’ Marc replies sternly. He looks at Steven in the glass of the fishtank and notices him looking deflated and guilty. Great- now he feels guilty for making Steven feel guilty. ‘I-I am sorry man, I shouldn't've gotten this mad, you know how I am about…personal stuff.’ Marc says sincerely. He really has been trying to be better at communicating, it’s been a feat to get here but he would do anything to make Steven's life easier. ‘It’s alright Marc..you’re right I should call off the date’ Steven says while looking at his hands, remembering your touch on his shoulder. The way you made him trust you so easily, even though he barely knew you. How desperately he wanted to get to know you an- ‘Steven, you know we share a brain right?’ Marc says trying to stop Steven from swooning any further. ‘Look- clearly you like her and she seems to like you as well, so who says this won’t turn out well?’ ‘well- you know: “we share a brain”’ Steven says, mocking Marc's previous comment. ‘Okay okay I get it-  I messed up. I’m sorry. There, will you let me help you now?’ Marc looks at Steven expectantly.

Days passed since they had returned home after you left them in the cafe. Steven was pretty sure Jake had taken over after leaving the coffee-shop but he was finally fronting again after a few days. Steven squints his eyes at Marc but relents ‘alright fine, I don’t know what to text her…I think she might be waiting for me to initiate conversation…’ ‘You realise we wouldn't have this issue if I had fronted and you wouldn't have had the chance to fall in love like a desperate teen-boy’ ‘I thought you said you lay off with the mean comments! And i am NOT in love-’

‘yeahyeah, you’ve never had a girlfriend have you? You must be reeaaally nervous…’ he adds in a singsong voice. Marc won’t let up, he’s being dragged into this mess so he might as well have a bit of fun. ‘Okay now I know you’re just takin’ the piss- are you gonna help me or not?’ Steven says fully aware of his embarrassing situation. ‘Alright, you text and I tell ya how to start, alright?’

‘Oh bollocks- uum okok I-I can do this..’ Steven is fronting now sitting on the office-chair and stares at his phone screen, starting with a simple introduction.

steven is typing...

‘Hiya- it’s me Steven!’

He had written, deleted and rewritten the message about six times before finally sending it.

You answered very quickly, you’d been waiting for him to text since you got home a few days ago. Processing everything that happened between you and steven- and well, Jake.

‘hi:) glad to hear from you. I wanted to apologise for leaving so abruptly, but it was all a bit much to process and i was running super late for work haha…i hope you understand’

‘Of course luv. If you’ve got any questions you can always ask, I hope you know that.’

‘i do’

‘i was actually hoping to ask you some questions on that date you promised me;)’

You seemed a bit more forward over text and Steven did not mind it one bit, since it was just the push he needed.

‘Right! I thought we could meet friday? There's this great vegan restaurant, I'd love to take you there?’

‘sounds great! could you pass me the address of the place?’

‘No need luv- I’ll pick you up.’

‘oh!’

‘that works too’

You hadn’t realised the age gap until this moment. They were probably around 10 years older than you with you being in your mid-twenties. You did notice the wrinkles and silver strands when you first saw Jake but hadn’t really thought about the fact that he was about a decade older than you. Just now as he offered to pick you up did you realise the generational difference. You didn’t have an issue with it, you’ve always liked your partners to be a bit older so this definitely wasn’t a turnoff. If anything it only amplified your attraction.

‘I’d love your address’

‘Whenever you get the chance to send it:)’

‘right! sending it now…’

You send him your address. 

‘Thanks luv. Alright, I’ll see you Friday at 7pm then?’

‘yes! see you tomorrow steven<3’

He sat back, setting his phone on the sink. ‘Alright there's your date’

‘Thanks for taking over, Marc- couldn’t have done it alone’

‘Relax Steven- this was just texting. But you realise I can’t just take over during the date, right?’

‘Of course I know that…doesn’t mean you shouldn’t stand by just in case…’ 

‘So- wait, what are we gonna do with Jake's notebook?’

‘I uuhm couldn't find anything besides drawings and sketches of her…I mean at least we had those, otherwise we would’ve never found out about him loaning that book.’

‘By the way…we know Jake likes her as well, by getting to know her better, we have a chance of actually luring Jake out-’

‘That might be true but that's not our goal! I- I actually like her…she might become my first proper girlfriend, I don't wanna mess this up.’ Steven is adamant on getting to know you, very hopeful of the connection he feels towards you. An almost magnetic pull he felt between you, one he has never felt with anyone before.

Marc chuckles at the reminder but reassures Steven, ‘And we won't, I promise, you will do fine Steven’

Friday

It’s 4 am. You’ve been trying to sleep for the past four hours but the thought of getting to see Steven and possibly Jake later today was not letting you relax. If anything it was causing a very persistent tension…in places you really dont wanna delve into. In fact, you’re trying really hard not to think about that tension, which might be the exact reason as to why you can’t seem to find your way to a peaceful slumber. You try to distract yourself by thinking of how this all even started. The way Jake intrigued you since the beginning and had you speechless every time he appeared. And you think about steven- steven who's the polar opposite to jake and is this shy sweetheart that can’t seem to even look you in the eyes but somehow managed to bluntly ask you out on a date. You keep thinking about them and their differences and analyse them, not noticing your eyes slowly shutting closed and your thoughts slowly forming into vivid dreams based on your memories with the boys…you sit up in your bed abruptly remembering your texts with steven. Realising you had shared your private address with a fucking stranger…you hold your head in your hands and push your palms into your eye-sockets trying to calm down. You don't actually know shit about these men…you really should’ve told your friends about them cuz literally no one knows about these encounters. But truly it was all so bizarre and absurd that you really didn’t want your friends to spoil it for you by using anything close to logic or realism. To maybe argue that they could have anything untoward in mind with you. 

You lay back down and finally feel a wave of exhaustion hit you. You want to believe that they actually maybe even like you…of course there is a possibility that Steven only asked you out to find out more about Jake. oh and marc, was it? You wonder what he might be like and if he's anything like his alters. You turn from your clock having hit 5am and finally force yourself into sleep.

You wake up to your alarm blaring and prepare yourself for work. You start the day groggy and tired due to only sleeping four hours. But just the thought of your date tonight has you motivated enough to hurry up and catch the next bus.

Moonboys POV

Marc woke up around noonish since Steven took forever to finally fall asleep. Lately he’d been better but last night he was as jittery as a six year old the night before christmas. Currently standing in the kitchen brewing himself a cup of black coffee and prepping his mug with two brown sugars. ‘So loverboy, what are you planning for tonight?’ He says while wearing an amused smirk on his face.

‘Okay well first off, cool it with the nicknames yeah? And secondly you literally texted it for me yesterday. We are goin’ to my favourite restaurant.’ Steven replies proudly while also ashamed for not even having the balls to text you himself. ‘About that…I don’t think that place is open right now- in fact I think all the restaurants are closed today, no?’ Marc remarks and pours himself the long awaited bitter brew. ‘Wha-Whatareyousayin mate??’

‘Well’ He clears his throat ‘when I woke up I saw today's date and remembered that today is that weird holiday, the only thing open are convenience stores and the 24-hour Tesco’ he says, his voice laced in an amused tone and takes a slow sip of his sweetened coffee. ‘Bollocks- what am I gonna do?...I could cook?’ ‘Steven’ ‘No, I-i can't even make a- a salad! How the hell am i supposed to cook for her if I can't cook marc?!’ he says panicked ‘Steven’ marc sternly interrupts, carefully putting his half empty mug on the counter 

‘I can help you. I may not be amazing at it but I can remember a few things from- from what our dad taught us.’ Marc and Steven rarely talked about their past but recently they were kinda forced to deal with it. Just the fact that they, let alone Marc, can mention anything from that time so casually is kind of a huge step for them. 

Marc and Steven spend the rest of the day planning, buying and preparing the food for the date. The time comes when Steven has to take over the body to get ready to pick you up. He finds a shirt in the back of his closet- same oversized cut as his others but a bit less casual and more sleek looking than the usual shirts he wears. His hair is as unruly and fluffy as usual despite Marc insisting on sleeking it back. He convinces him to use some curling cream he had found in the back of the bathroom drawer.

Steven applies it sceptically, coming to the conclusion that it does look pretty good. He makes his way to your address making sure to ring on the right door. Basically buzzing from anxiety, Marc is doing everything to keep him calm and rehearse with him what he was gonna do and say when you ringed him in and opened your door, knowing full well, that all the preparation would fly out the window when he actually met you…Jake is silently watching this all transpire and cant help but be amused at all this, not admitting that he was actually a bit nervous himself.

You came back from work tired BUT extremely excited to get ready. You had to stay a bit longer than anticipated and thus only had about one hour to get ready. Hopping in the shower as quickly as possible you try to calm down under the warm streams of water hitting your body, melting all the tension out of your back, shoulders and sore legs. Work had been exhausting and this shower was proving to get difficult to leave. But the alarm you had set to remind yourself of the time, successfully cut your relaxation short. You quickly exited your shower wrapping your body in a fluffy white towel. Wiping the steamy mirror to see your reflection more clearly, you start getting ready. Adding whatever products you use to your hair and applying sweet smelling lotion to your body, basically doing any- and everything to make you feel as confident and ready as possible for your date, who was supposed to arrive iiiin…twenty minutes?!

You hurried your makeup routine and rushed to your room quickly picking out an outfit you felt sexy in but also had a grounding and comfy vibe. You threw on a beige knitted sweater, which had an oversized fit with a mini-jean skirt. Paired with sheer brown tights, thigh-high beige cashmere socks and brown leather knee-high, high-heeled boots. Finishing off the look with your favourite jewellery and accessories, you look over at the clock. It's 6.50pm and you are just adding the last finishing touches to your look and making sure you've moved all the important things from your ‘work-bag’ to your ‘going out purse’ when the door rings. ‘He's here’ you mutter to yourself, running to the door making sure it's him and pushing the button to the intercom. ‘Yes, hello?’

a/n: hope yall liked this chapterrr- in the next chapter you'll be able to read all about the date and i am SO excited for yall to read about it *squeals* don't mean to toot my own horn but GURL it's so good i already wanna post it ♪(´▽｀)

The lovely people in my taglist: @lilladyblink14 @lemongirl5910

please notify me if you want to be added/ removed from the Taglist<3

[nanowrimo]

5 Techniques to Help You Write Your Novel

Every writing project is unique, and the methods that help you draft one novel may not work for another. If you’re getting started on a brand new project this Camp, NaNo Guest Vee James has some suggestions for different techniques to help you explore your story. It took a few NaNos before I realized I was developing different techniques each time I sat down to the challenge. I think we all do this naturally, but it helps to step back and observe the process. If you’re strictly a pantster, you’ve been working on the story ideas in your head. If you’re a planner, you’ve set to paper the story concepts, characters, and an outline of what you are about to produce on paper. Some people take a hybrid approach to NaNo. Granted, the basics remain the same: butt in chair, accomplish the hourly/daily goal, and allow yourself to tell your story.

I discovered that each unique novel presented particular challenges, and I had to adapt my style and writing techniques in order to explore the story and keep the production happening. Some of these came from writing instructors and wonderful podcasters. Some came from “how to write” seminars and workshops. Others grew out of a feverish search for “more words.”

Here are five techniques I’ve found that helped me advance writing projects:

1. Research

It was a surprise to me to discover the concept of researching for fiction. I initially thought, “Just make something up.” But there are so many ways to broaden your approach. Plumb your memory, take a course in something related to the story, talk to an expert, and ask lots of questions. You could even become like the character in order to feel what they feel. If you’re writing a western, go ride a horse.

2. Write Scenes Out of Order

If you have a premise, you’ve already got scenes in your mind. Don’t wait until you get to chapter 18. Write that scene now. You can always revise it when you catch up to that point and it gives you something to develop toward. To expand on this technique, when you’ve written the scene, ask yourself, “What happened just before this?” or “What does this scene lead to?”

3. Put disparate characters together and have them have a conversation

Often, we write secondary characters who take a more subdued role in the plot. But what would happen if your protagonist’s best friend had a conversation with the main antagonist? Or if the antagonist’s agent of destruction came upon the protagonist’s love interest? In my experience, these conversations frequently produce more depth in your secondary characters and almost always it’s something you weren’t expecting.

4. Play with Genre Tropes

What have you chosen to write? Urban fiction? SciFi? Fantasy? You already know what your reader expects you to write, and what the plot ahead holds for them. How can you twist it? Sometimes the simplest thing you mentioned in chapter one can be the linchpin of a great plot twist.

5. Study Film

It’s no accident that some of the most astounding stories have been told through film. Quite simply, movie companies invest heavily in every aspect of their production and hire some of the best writers around. Yes, it’s a visual medium and has some advantages over prose. But the main lesson with movies is in the structure of the stories they tell. Here’s a good example: when I was writing a fairytale novel, I wanted to stay true to the classic story structure. One afternoon I was watching the comedy, Galaxy Quest, taking careful notes on the structure. I realized the story structure mapped very closely to what I was doing in the fairytale. It was comforting to see this, and it also gave me some ideas on how to approach the ending.

Most importantly: NaNoWriMo is a thrilling if exhaustive experience, and I urge you to immerse yourself in it completely. Write with utter abandon, delve deep for concepts that will give you the next 2000 words, and try new things like you’re a Mad Scientist in a hurry. We all know that what you end up with is a messy creation. But you will find you have given yourself a great gift.

Vee James is a cross-genre author who loves to write comedies, fairytales, and YA supernatural. He participated in NaNoWriMo for ten years in a row, writing over a half-million words, and it led to nine NaNo novels plus two more non-NaNos. Out of this work, he’s published four novels, with a fifth nearing completion. If interested, visit his site at www.veejames.com and leave a message. He loves to talk to writers of all kinds. Vee's photo by A. Roger Hammons Photo by Daniel Álvasd on Unsplash

[cosmoeticss]

The Pact | Aegon Targaryen Modern!AU (part one)

Words: 4.3K

Pairing: modern!Aegon Targaryen II x reader, slight Dalton Greyjoy x reader

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI Cheating, caught cheating, swearing, underage drinking, eventual smut. this is my ‘rom com’ fic so please expect rom com level corniness.

Note: This is probably gonna run for about 4 or 5 parts depending on how I lay it out but I’m so excited to share it with you. Also aegon isn’t show canon aegon obviously, I’m just very in love with tgc I pulled it from another random idea I had wrote out months ago with no plot line and made it into this. I hope y’all enjoy it.

my masterlist

seventeen

The summer you turned seventeen had seemed never ending while you had been living it. The hot nights were spent next to your best friend, sneaking out to parties, stealing bottles from Aegon’s fathers liquor cabinet, and climbing out of bedroom windows to stargaze and ponder what the future would hold for you both. It wasn’t until that fateful August night – the night of his older sister's wedding – when you both had exhausted the dance floor and small talk with distant family members and friends, that you felt in the air that it was coming to an end.

You were sitting at your assigned table, music from the reception blaring as you finally discarded the sandals that had been hurting your feet all night, when you felt fingers brush your shoulder, grabbing your attention. You snapped your attention to the culprit, none other than Aegon Targaryen moseying past you, a bottle of Casterly Rock red wine tucked discreetly behind his back as he beckoned you to follow. You gave him a lopsided grin, jumping from your seat to grab on to his arm as you both made a break for the exit. 

“Did they just let you take that?” you exclaimed, the excitement of getting caught jumping in your chest.

“I snuck in the kitchens while no one was paying attention,” he explained, arm linked with yours as he led you to a patch of soft grass outside the gardens of the Red Keep. 

“And no one saw?” you raised an eyebrow at him, stifling a giggle as you both found your place on the ground next to each other. 

“Don’t act so surprised, I can be sneaky,” he furrowed his brow, feigning offense. “Like a ninja.”

An earnest laugh bubbled in your chest as you took the bottle from him, making quick work of breaking the seal and attempting to remove the cork. “Of course, because the first thing I think of when I look at you is ninja.” 

“Let me,” he snatched it back, rolling his eyes as you struggled. He winced as he tugged at the cork with all his might, letting out a breath of relief at the satisfying ‘pop’ as he finally freed it. “I’ve never had wine before. My mum drinks it all the time, though.” He admitted, passing it back to you.

“Alicent is a woman of taste. This isn’t just wine, Aeg,” you said, mimicking a dramatic posh accent as you lifted the bottle to your nose to breathe in the bitter, fruity scent. “It’s very fancy, expensive wine for very fancy, expensive people.”

Aegon chuckled, eyeing her as she sized up the thick, deep red liquid.. “Well tonight, we are very fancy people, so bottoms up, mate.”

You took a deep breath, raising the bottle to your lips and grimacing as the liquid reached your taste buds. Coughing at the flavor, you reluctantly swallowed the large swig you’d taken down, gagging in disgust as you handed the bottle back to Aegon who was already in stitches. 

“Don't laugh!” you whined, only slightly embarrassed as you laid back in the grass. “It’s disgusting! I thought it was supposed to be good, your mum is mad if she drinks that all the time.” 

“What happened to her being a woman of taste?” he took a big swig, handling it with much more grace than you had but expression still twisting with distaste as he spun the bottle to read the label. “Yeah, that's rank.” 

“I told you.”

“Maybe we’re drinking it wrong,” he took another drink before setting it down and laying back with you, bringing his arm to rest under his head. 

You rolled your eyes half heartedly. “How can you even drink something wrong?” you poked, fingers weaving through the blades of grass between the two of you.

“I dunno, maybe we’re not fancy or expensive enough,” he teased, his hand falling from his stomach to scoop yours up, fiddling with it as you both admired the clear sky above you, the smell of fall air just lingering in the distance like smoke.

You giggled sweetly. “Yeah, that’s it,” he hummed at your response. “I’ll stick with my good ol’ Vodka Cran’s, thank you very much.”

He groaned in mock annoyance. “You and those Vodka Cran’s.”

You pointed your joined hand at the bottle sitting unevenly in the grass. “They taste better than that, I’ll tell you what.” 

He shrugged, smirking lightly at your defensiveness. “Cheaper too, I suppose.”

“Right,” you teased.

“Right,” Aegon squeezed your fingers as you two fell into a comfortable silence, the boisterous sounds of Rhaenyra and Harwin’s reception muffled by the distance and the chirping of nearby crickets were the only noise filling the air.

“I can’t believe Breakbones really cried when Nyra came down the aisle,” Aegon mused softly, breaking the pause. “I can,” you shook your head fondly at the memory of earlier today, as his fell to the side to look at you as you spoke. “He’s all big and tough on the outside, but on the inside the man is nothing but a softy, I swear it.” 

“Do you think you’ll ever get married?” Aegon pondered, studying your vague expression, brows furrowing as he tried to decipher what you were thinking. “What?” He pressed as you didn’t answer straight away, lost in thought.

You snapped out of whatever trance the question put you in, finally meeting his gaze. “Um,” your eyes averted, blowing raspberries through your lips as you thought. “I dunno. I hope so.”

“What do you mean you ‘hope so?’”

You shrugged shyly in what felt like defeat. “I mean I want to someday, it’s just,” you paused, feeling a bit silly about what you were about to admit. “Seeing your sister and Harwin today, like they really love each other.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, still confused at where you were going with this.

“I just have a hard time believing anyone will ever love me that much,” you huffed, and his face softened. “Like I can’t imagine anyone ever wanting to be with me like that. I just don’t see it ever happening for me.”

Aegon shook his head in disagreement. “(Y/N), I’m saying this as kindly as I possibly can, but that’s complete bullshit,” you veered your attention back up to the stars, and hoped Aegon wouldn’t see your cheeks burning red. “You’re gorgeous, and like, the best person I know. There’s no way you’re gonna end up alone.” 

“You think?” you frowned, holding back the tears that we’re pricking at your eyes. 

“I know it,” he insisted. “Anyone who doesn’t see it is stupid.” 

“Thanks, Aeg,” you fell into another silence, this one less peaceful than the last. 

“I’ll marry you,” he muttered and nudged you then, causing you to chuckle.

“Would you now?” you rolled your eyes.

“I would!” he sat up slightly, shifting to his side and looking down on your jovial expression. “What? Do you think I wouldn’t be a good husband?”

You burst into playful laughter, softly hitting his chest with the back of your hand. “No, I’m sure you’d be a brilliant husband,” you jested, sarcasm evident in your town.

“I’m serious,” he raised his eyebrows at her, his bemused smile outing him entirely.

You put up your hands defensively. “I’m sure you are.”

“I think we’d be a great married couple,” he offered, rattling off the next few things that came to mind. “We already spend every day together, and they always say you should marry your best friend. Our wedding should be half as big as this one, though. It’s more intimate that way. With more dancing and better booze.” 

You beamed at him in awe. “You’ve just got a pros and cons list, have you?”

“It’s been a very tough decision, but everyone else is insufferable so I might as well marry the one person who isn’t,” he affirmed, very matter-of-factly.

“And you’re so sure that I would want to marry you?” 

His eyes fluttered over your face in admiration, your fingers still intertwined between you as he toyed with them thoughtfully. The action made your breath catch in your throat as you suddenly took note of how close you actually were.

“I’ll make you a deal,” Aegon rasped, mulling something over in his head a moment, thinking it through before putting it fully out there. “If we’re both not married or in a serious relationship when we’re twenty-seven, we’ll marry each other.”

“Ten years from now?” your eyes widened. 

Aegon smirked. “Yes seventeen plus ten is twenty-seven,” he chaffed, causing you to smack him on the chest again.

“Thirty,” you wagered. 

He shook his head softly. “Twenty-seven.”

“Twenty-eight?” you raised an eyebrow, he pursed his lips as he pondered your bargain.

“Twenty-seven and a half,” he detangled your fingers to offer out his pinky, you eyed it a moment before interlocking it with yours.

“Deal,” you whispered breathlessly. “Stamp it.” You twisted your hand to press your thumbs together. 

“Uh-oh,” he grinned. “That’s legally binding now.” 

“Uh-oh,” you busted out in a genuine laugh then, throwing your head back as he joined in with you, lying back down on the ground next to you and wrapping you up in his arms and pulling you into his chest. “I better make quick work of finding a husband if I want to get rid of you.”

“Silly girl,” he dropped a chaste kiss to the top of your head as you both drank in the night sky and the sweet dwindling of summer warmth. “You’ll never be rid of me.”

twenty-six

The second you had woken up that morning, you knew it was going to be a strange day. Strange was one way to put it. It had been the sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach that you had noticed while only half awake that morning, that hadn’t gone away no matter what you did. You weren't hungry, nor did you feel sick like you were going to spill the contents of your guts at any sudden moment, it was just that ever present sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach that followed you the whole day.

That sinking feeling, combined with the staleness in the air at The Golden Stag – the pub where you worked – and the King’s Landing summer heat swallowing you whole was what you thought really did you in. There you were, hunched over the cash register taking deep breaths. Her back was turned from the mild crowd, one hand gripping the POS monitor and the other twisted in a fistful of hair to keep it off your shoulders.

Gods, a shower would fix most of my problems right now, you thought, the thin layer of sweat covering you was only making things worse. You were almost so wrapped up in trying to will your ailments away with your mind that you didn’t notice your shift leader, Cassandra Baratheon, approaching from behind to use the register you were currently hogging. 

As if on cue, you finally felt her presence, jolting from your spot to lean on the bar next to the register. “Sorry, did you need this?” you mumble as you do.

Cass cocks an eyebrow at you, “No worries,” she says as she begins punching in an order, her warm green eyes only leaving you to check the screen.  “Are you sure you’re feeling okay? You don't look so good, lovey.” 

“I’m probably fine,” you brush her off. “I’ve just been feeling a little off all day.”

Cassandra doesn't seem convinced. She looks over her shoulder, scanning around the room before bringing her attention back to you as you picked up a plastic laminated menu and began fanning your glistening chest with it. “Y’know we’re pretty dead,” she reasons. “If you wanna head out, no one would be mad.”

“What if it picks up?” you try, not wanting to sound too eager to bail so early in the night. Cassandra lifts up her wrist, her watch screen illuminating her face as she does.

“It’s almost one, love. I’m sure if we were gonna pick up we would’ve by now,” she pinched your elbow playfully. Gods bless this angel of a woman.

“I’m sure we’ll survive two more hours without you.”

You sent her a grateful look. “I’m sure I’ll feel better tomorrow.”

Cass rolls her eyes playfully at this, “Yeah, yeah. Just get out of my bar and go home,” she grins as she says it. “Make that himbo boyfriend of yours take care of you, I want you better by 6 tomorrow, missy.”

“Dalton? Coming anywhere near me while I’m sick?” you scoffed in spite of yourself as you collected your purse and keys, imagining it. “I highly doubt that will ever happen.”

“Jerk,” she frowned. “Tell him I said hi anyway, and be safe going home, would ya?.” 

“I will,” you called over your shoulder, shuffling out to the street and starting the five block trek back home. You had met Dalton Greyjoy at work, a couple months after you and Aegon had first moved into the city after university four years ago. He was a regular at the Stag, and hit on you relentlessly for weeks until you finally took him up on his offer to let him take you on a date. Everything fell into routine after that first date, two months later you were official, and eight months after that you were moving out of yours and your best friends shared flat and into Dalton’s one bedroom down the street from your work.

Though it was a complete change of pace from having spent nearly everyday together since you’d met, Aegon didn’t mind. Sure, he wasn’t Dalton Greyjoy’s biggest fan but, he wanted you to be happy, and you seemed happy enough. It wasn’t like he particularly needed you to help with rent. He would have used his trust fund for the both of you to live there if you had allowed it, but you weren’t one to take handouts even from him. So your nightly chats under the starlit Westerosi sky turned to weekly chats and sometimes took place over the phone after a long weekend shift. And your days spent always together became midday coffee runs a few times a week, and tipsy visits while you were bartending with whoever he was seeing this month. 

The newest one was called Sara, who despite her passive aggressive jealousy whenever you were around each other, seemed good for him. You didn’t know if this one would last, as they often didn’t, but had hoped regardless for Aegon’s sake.

The walk home had not been as bad as you had set it up to be, it was the rickety elevator in your building stamped with a neon yellow ‘out of order’ sign that was the real bitch. On any other night, the five flights up would be nothing, annoying at most, but now you were considering making a new home for yourself on the second floor landing. You paused as you made it to the third floor finally, bracing yourself against the wall as your chest heaved to give yourself a break. 

Gods, all you wanted was your bed and some peace and quiet, and it was so close, almost right in reach. “Come on, (Y/N).” You mumbled to yourself, forcing your legs to continue on. When you finally reached your door, you pressed your forehead to the hardwood, dropping your purse from your shoulder and fumbling around for your keys before your fingers grazed the familiar plastic souvenir keychain Aegon had got you on your summer trip to Dorne last year. You unlocked the door, before stepping inside and pressing your back to the door to shut it, taking several deep breaths. Your lungs were putting in overtime, as if you’d just run a marathon. 

As you finally steadied yourself, you moved to slide down the door to sit on the floor and finally remove your non-slip sneakers. As your fingers fumbled with the laces, you heard a muffled sound coming from your bedroom, almost as if your boyfriend had left the TV on in bed. “Babe?” You called out, ears perking to listen for a reply that didn't come. You furrowed your brow, eyes narrowing on an unfamiliar purse on the kitchen island in front of you.

Your breath caught as you halted the unlacing of your shoes and your gaze traveled to the ground next to you to find a pair of women's trainers that certainly weren’t yours. 

No. You thought sharply, that sinking feeling that had been plaguing you all day gathering as bile in the back of your throat. Absolutely not.

You stood slowly, not fully registering what you knew you would find on the other side of your bedroom door. Your steps were achingly slow as you approached, fingers reaching out to graze the door handle, your eyes falling shut as the muffled noises became clearer. You swallowed the dreadful acidic feeling and mustered all the courage you had in you to twist the knob and push open the door.

They didn’t notice you at first, Dalton and the pretty brunette underneath him that he was rutting into, the girl who was certainly not you. The bile rose again, as you finally were able to find your voice. “What the fuck is this?” You spat, nausea taking over as the girl gasped and your boyfriend halted his actions, cursing as he pulled out of her and covered himself.

“Shitshitshitshit,” he hissed, frantically scrambling to find his boxers. “Babe, this isn’t what it looks like.”

Don’t cry. 

“I’m gonna be sick,” you uttered, turning quickly on your heel to the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before the contents of your stomach spilled out of you. You gripped the bowl tightly, hunching over and retching, as your body finally relieved itself of that nauseating, sinking feeling. You were left gasping for air when you were finally done, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

“(Y/N)?” Dalton whispered, fingers barely reaching your shoulder before you smacked them away harshly.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” you hissed, using what was left of your energy to push yourself to your feet.

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.

“Babe,” he rambled desperately, following her through the apartment as you hastily made your way to the closet. “I swear it’s not what it looks like. I don’t even really know her, it was just a one time thing.”

The girl, still tucked under your covers didn’t dare move or interject as you gathered any article of clothing in arms reach of you and stuffed it in an overnight back. “Oh, it was just a one time thing, was it?” you exclaimed, sarcasm dripping like honey from your lips.

“Yes! I swear!”

“Fuck you, Dalton. Is that supposed to make a fucking difference?” you shoved past him, and back into the bathroom to gather all your toiletries and stuff them haphazardly into the bag.

“Please, (Y/N). Let me explain,” he was right on your tail, a pitiful look on his face that made you want to bury your fist into it. “Can’t we talk about this?”

You scoffed. “There’s nothing to explain, I understand perfectly what’s going on here.”

“What are you doing?” 

“Leaving.” you stated, matter-of-factly.

“Where?”

You barked out an insincere laugh. “I don’t see how that’s any of your fucking business, Dalton.”

His expression changed then, to something almost angry at the flip of a switch as you brushed past him to the door. “Oh, I don’t even have to ask, do I?” “I’d prefer if you didn’t, you fucking asshole,” you grabbed your spare pair of shoes by the door, making it the last thing you grabbed in your rage. “Besides, I don’t think you have any room to be patronizing me about Aegon when you were just fucking someone in our bed!” Your hand grabbed hold of the doorknob. “Fine, leave then,” Dalton threw his hands up dramatically. “Run home to your little boyfriend.” 

Your head snapped, over your shoulder, stricken with disbelief as you shook your head. You wanted to say something clever, something just outright mean, something that would really hit him where it hurt. You wanted to be brave and put him right in his place, but no words came to you. You just stood there in the doorway, frozen in place, and utterly dumbfounded. 

When you finally came to, you simply turned back to the door, opening it swiftly and slamming it shut behind you, stumbling down the five flights and into the street.

You finally let the tears fall then, a strangled sob erupting from deep within you as hot tears flowed freely and mascara ran down your cheeks. You took off walking through the city without a second thought – a babbling, crying, mess – to the only other place you wanted to be.

The sharp chime of the doorbell rang through Aegon’s townhouse a little after two, followed by a pounding on his door. He groaned, curling deeper into his covers in annoyance. “I don’t wanna,” he whined, hoping the assailant would get the picture and leave. It was to no avail though, the bell rang twice more, followed by that same hastened pounding. 

He practically growled as he gave in, throwing the covers harshly off of him, making his way to the door. “Alright, I’m coming!” Aegon shouted frustratedly, not bothering to check the peephole to see who was waking him at this hour as he unlocked the door and flung it open. “Seven Hells, what?” 

Aegon’s temper diffused at the sight in front of him. You stood pitifully before him, hands full, hair disheveled, eyes rung red and mascara running down your swollen cheeks from crying. “(Y/N)?” he pulled you through the door frame without a second thought, tense worry painted over his face. He shut the door behind you and helped to drop your bags to the floor. “What on earth is wrong, sweetheart?”

“I’m sorry I woke you up,” you hiccupped as he took your face in his hands, thumbs wiping away the tears that flowed freely. “I didn’t know where else to go, Dalton, he–” 

Aegon’s jaw clenched when you couldn’t bring yourself to finish. “Did he hurt you?”

“No,” you shook your head frantically. “He didn’t touch me.” 

“What did he do?” Aegon tried to remain calm at the state of you. 

You sniffled, bringing your fingers to wrap around his wrists. “I walked in on him with another girl in our bed,” you sobbed, breaking Aegon’s heart as he pulled you into his chest.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he stroked the back of your head and rubbed circles into your back to comfort you as you wept. “I’m so sorry,” he muttered over and over.

“I was sick all day, and they sent me home from work early,” you lifted your head from his chest to look up at him. “I didn’t know what to do. I just came straight here.” 

“It’s okay, I’m glad you did. Come on, sweetheart, let’s get you cleaned up,” he brushed away the hair stuck to your damp cheeks, taking your hand and grabbing your overnight bag as he gently led you to the bathroom. “Before I drive over there and kill him myself.” 

Aegon wet a washcloth under cold water, handing it over to you to clean your face off. You accepted it gratefully, the cool sensation washing over you as you ran the rag over your face and neck. His lips dropped to your hairline, his hand coming to rub your arm softly. “I’ll grab you a sleep shirt.”

“Thank you,” you muttered hoarsely as he disappeared into the hall. You dug through your bag and the random things you remembered to grab during the fight. Aegon returned after you had nearly finished brushing your teeth, dark green t-shirt in hand. 

He handed it over, leaning against the sink as you rinsed out your mouth. “I haven't touched your room in ages,” he admitted carefully. “Not since you left.” 

Three years. Aegon hadn’t done anything with your room for three years.

“It’s empty then?”

“You took your bed when you left.” 

You nodded thoughtfully, eyes glued to his chest. “I can take the couch and figure things out tomorrow.” 

He shook his head softly. “No need, you can just sleep with me.” “Aegon,” you started. “I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You didn’t ask,” he shrugged. “And neither am I, come lay down with me. You need some rest and we’ll talk about everything in the morning. It’ll be a slumber party, like old times.”

“I’m not feeling very party right now, Aeg,” you chuckled humorlessly, looking over his facial features cautiously. “And coming from personal experience, I’m sure Sara wouldn’t be pleased to find me snuggled up to her boyfriend.”

If you call what you walked in on ‘snuggling.’

He pressed his lips together, shaking his head. “Well, it’s a good thing I’m not her boyfriend anymore then.”

Your eyes widened at his admission. “Aeg, why didn’t you tell me?” you moved to wrap your arms around him in comfort.

“It just happened last night,” he pulled you away to look you in the eye. “It’s alright. We’ll talk about it in the morning though.”

“Aegon—“ You protested as he pulled you carefully by the wrist towards his bedroom.

“In the morning,” he hushed you, straightening out the pillows and blankets that were splayed across his mattress to make room for you next to him as you changed into the shirt in his walk in closet.

When you emerged, clad in only his oversized ‘Hightower Family Reunion’ shirt, Aegon was already nestling under the covers. He gave you a sweet smile when he saw you, throwing them open to beckoning you in. You crawled into the spot beside his, the tension in your shoulders dissolving on the cloud he called a mattress. A sigh of relief slipped from your tear swollen lips, Aegon’s fingers found their home in yours between the two of you and he squeezed them three times, lulling you into relaxation.

You hummed softly, your eyes fluttering closed. The warmth of his bed and the smell of his cologne wrapping around you like a tender hug. “Goodnight, Aegon,” you mumbled sleepily, sinking deeper into the sheets.

“Goodnight, sweet girl,” he whispered, fingers drawing soothing circled into your palm. “I’ll see you when the sun is shining.”

next part

[sunny-with-a-knife]

PERCY JACKSON OC LORE

+ FRIENDS

Let me all show you my oc! Their name is Aundrea (Angie for short) as Well as my friends ocs!

I'll upload more or her art soon but I just got too lazy so have them from an art challenge I did w/ some friends^_^

Tw: death in all backstories (litteraly none of them have a mortal parent who's alive)

(It's great /j) all text colored in parentheses are my own comment! The white ones are from my friends

ONTO THE LOREEE (click read more if interested)

AUNDREA (Angie)

Their father, Terrance Maheswaran, had planned to tell Angie her "amazing" heritage and terrifying adventures that would’ve laid ahead of her when she was 13, packing up her gift and a letter explaining everything for when she arrived at chb,

but in a sick cruel, twist of events, their Father died in a large explosion when she was working on an invention (a kid from the village had jacked with the oil rig, causing the generator to explode, Setting off The highly explosive fireworks and chemicals inside)

That had left her with a dead father, bad Eye, half her face burned and neglected trauma she refuses to Talk about, and would much rather throw herself into her inventions when someone Tries to make her talk.

But now she's dealing with a busted home, a hospital bill, a present, and a letter telling Her she's the daughter of greek goddess athena? Obviously she steals car parts and pieces from a local news station, making a warrant out for her arrest, (what half-blood hasn't?) as Well as an epic police chase scene while she blasted barbie girl and crashing Through the chb woods into A tree as well as a girls wine bottle (All jokes aside she was practically dashing to half blood all the way from the empty land if El Paso, Texas)

All of this has taken place somewhere after the pjo books (I thinkkk???? Me and my friends have yet to decide a timeline, so for now we ball ig)

REFERENCE:D

Written by my friend Kiwi!

NADIA

daughter of Dionysus!

One of her first trips to the casino when she was 8 caused the trigger of her madness. Nadia got invested watching a poker game that when it was time to leave and someone interrupted her trance, she suddenly got angry and started clawing at the attendants face. Her mother was banned from the casino. This news spread about a demon child attacking anyone that touched her with glowing purple eyes. This also didn’t help Layla’s and Nadia’s money situation as that casino was quite common for clients. The rumours spread to Layla calling her a “temptress” and “demon mother” since she was the only one to calm Nadia and she “slept around” so she could have “easily slept with a demon and gave birth to a monster”. Many conspiracists found out and religious freaks plotted to kill them both. A ritual for the child and murder for the mother.

She is the daughter to Layla Mansour when Layla had a one night stand with a disguised Dionysus (idfk how it works don’t come at me). Layla was a prostitute that used her body to get in the pants of high ranking officials that cheat on their wives but when Nadia was born, she had a new purpose. Living. Nadia was Layla’s break from disgusting men and she tried to protect Nadia as long as she could. Money was tight and Layla took more jobs. By the time Nadia had just turned 8, she was taken on her mother’s “trips” to nice hotels and casinos etc.

(Shit goes from 0-1000 real quick in Vegas ig /j)

During the night on a full moon on the 30th of October at 3 am. A 10 year old Nadia found her mother killed with a shot to the head.(she only saw the body im not that mean to nadia) (yea right 🙄) The religious freaks mysteriously went mad (I wonder could it be Nadia whhhaaaattt). Nadia ran away blah blah blah she’s 11 and at camp half blood woo. (My friend is so funny when talking abt Nadia lmfao)

Her first year there she was sceptical and hoarded shit, she was claimed when she first gambled with Dionysus and woo new brothers. They introduced her to drinking (bad brothers >:() and the fact she isn’t affected like normal people by alcohol if she wants and skaboosh wine gal emerged. Her need for money couldn’t be solved with taking stray drachmas from the floor (don’t ask me just accept what I say as fact and just take it) so she started a gambling activity of sorts. Second year is when she started gaining reputation and it went pretty normal until the start of her third year this random ass kid crashed their weirdoes car causing Nadia to drop her drinking making it undrinkable. (How she met Angie!)

FRIENDS REFERENCE SHEET BELOW vvvv

DEX

Written by my friend Rohan!

DEAR GOD MY FRIEND DIDNT HOLD BACK ON THE ANGST SO BE PREPARED FOR

•C@NABLISM

•DEATH

AND OTHER TRIGGERING STUFF

Dex was born in China before moving to the US when they were 2. They had a rough life, being forced into anything that had extra credit or talent labeled on it, since they’re mom wanted them to be able to be a dutiful citizen of the US.

Dex’s mom; Beihe was on a vacation in the US when she had gotten pregnant with a one night stand with the disguised Hades. Beihe was ostracized from her family when she came home pregnant, and when she gave birth she moved to the US.

Soon Dex was forced to learn anything and everything from a young age, it didn’t matter what it was; Their mom wanted them to be a prodigy in everything, the most prominent things being Violin, piano and kung fu. Dex had come out to their mom, and soon it became something to use against them.

Dex and their mom were in constant arguments daily, but by evening their mom was parading them through downtown before they went to eat dinner and go to bed. But by the age of 9 an accident had occurred, and right in front of Dex’s eyes their mom was turned into a puddle of flesh, organs, blood, and other bodily fluids. (It was not finger licking good ☹️ /j)

It had left Dex with scars along their body and trauma to deal with. When they were found they were placed into their fathers custody, and that's when they gained an accepting parent.

And soon they transitioned and changed their name with their fathers permission, and was trained and taught languages and fighting styles and mainly how to fight with a spear. Dex has powers but doesn’t know about them, since they are constantly helping their father and only have enough time to sleep and eat whilst doing so.

They were sent to the camp as a spy when their father had come up with the idea, and sent them a monthly allowance for it. They have books and journals in different languages, and can contact their father through a mirror that they have hidden.

Dex when Nadia and Angie find out their a spy almost murders them in a fit of fear, before they leave them kinda beat up and make them swear they won’t tell anyone. And grow kinda distant for a while from them, and become scared to touch them after watching them recover slowly from a distance. They don’t report this to their dad.

REFERENCE SHEET BELOW vvv

Together they go on a journey??? TO THE WEST! nah jk- but so far we haven't really written a concrete story yet, it's mostly just dealing with Dexs betrayl rn but I'll update when any changes occur!<3

[autumnmobile12]

The Summer Camp Ambush Simulation: Behind the WIPS: Deleted Scene from Ch 4

Okay, so originally the plan for the meeting in Chapter 4 was the Vanguard and UA teachers were going to have a falling out over what to do about Toga: UA arguing Toga's too young to take part, Vanguard firing back with how stupid that is.

And that was going to result in negotiations breaking down and UA deciding, "Well, since we can't agree, we might as well arrest the Vanguard once and for all," leading to an all out fight between the UA staff and the Vanguard.

Except in typical UA fashion, it's just a test.

Three reasons why this got deleted:

The whole plot of Ambush Simulation is the events of the Summer Camp Arc was just a test and pulling the same trick twice in one fic would've made it repetitive.

A situation where the UA staff is 'testing' the Vanguard is redundant. Everyone already knows they're a pretty formidable group. Granted, this could have been some payback for all the trouble they've caused over the years but...

I really didn't want to write anymore fight scenes than I had to, plus the chapter was getting long.

However, I did save some of the notes from that part and I want to share those interactions, so here is some of the deleted section:

...

“I trusted Mr. Aizawa’s judgment when he recommended the seven of you for this task,”  said Nezu.  “But now I fear we have reached an impasse.  You are determined to not leave your young friend behind and while that is admirable, we simply cannot allow a high school student to take part.  Especially not without a parent or guardian’s permission, which from what I hear of Miss Toga’s circumstances, that will be unlikely to obtain.”

“Well, since they’re no longer of use to us,”  Miss Midnight rose to her feet, and Himiko realized she now had a crimson whip pulled taut across her shoulders.  “What do you say we finally put an end to the Vanguard Action Squad.  They’ve been a public nuisance long enough, don’t you think?”

“Sounds good to me,”  said Mr. Eraser.

Himiko whipped her head around.  What?

“Oh, hell, you gotta be fuckin’ kidding me!”  Shuichi shouted.  “We were set up?”

“What a devious twist,”  Atsuhiro huffed.  “I suppose that’s what comes of trusting Pro-Heroes, isn’t it."

Only Tenko seemed to be remaining calm, glaring daggers at the Principal.  No, not at him.  At Mr. Yagi?  The skeletal man clenched his jaw and turned away, almost as if he were about to cry.  What was going on?  Were he and Tenko friends?

“You better run, little kittens,”  Miss Midnight was saying in her sultry voice.  Her whip cracked against the floor.  “Tell you what, I’ll give you a headstart before I start my pursuit.”

...

“This doesn’t make any sense,”  Magne was yelling.  “Why go out of their way to drag us all here?  They know where we live!  They could have apprehended us at any time!”

“It doesn’t matter now,”  Touya snarled.  “Fuck, I can’t believe we were so stupid.”

This is hurting,  Himiko thought.

“I think it does matter,”  said Tenko.

“What are you even talking about?  Even your uncle’s gone and betrayed you,” shouted Jin.

“That’s the thing, though.  He would never do that to me.”

...

“So that’s it?  It’s a test?”

Himiko looked around at the appalled expressions on her friends' faces, silent with shock until Touya finally muttered,  “I really need to be nicer to Shouto.”

“Okay, so it’s just a profiency test.  A demo,”  Shuichi conceded.  “How are we gonna handle the cement guy boxing us in like this?”

“Easily.”  Touya stood up.  “One of the main aggregates of concrete is sand.  That means it melts.”

“Are you mad?”  Atsuhiro grabbed his belt and yanked him back into a seat.  “Sit down! You’re going to turn this whole stage into a cremation oven if you do that!”

[vampiricmechanic]

My review of “Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga”

rating: hard to say but somewhere between ★★★ and ★★★★ (while both at the same time)

text below — includes spoilers!!

Such a hard movie for me to rate. This is going to be long but I’ll fang it as much as I can – fasten your belts.

When I watched this movie at the cinema, I walked out of the room a little overwhelmed, little disappointed, a little happy regardless but mostly trying to sort my thoughts and weigh them in a way that pointed a direction towards like or dislike for it. I’m not sure if I made any progress, but I was able to crank out some coherent sentences that, at least, verbalize the mess inside my head.

I said to my friend – “I feel like I gotta watch this movie three times to be able to opine.” Today I rewatched it with no pretensions, but – if anything – I feel like I rusted the chrome finish of it all by doing so. It’s not bad, yet it’s not good. It is, in all of its pomposity, furiously okay.

I knew it wasn’t going to be Fury Road – by Valhalla, I didn’t want it to be – but I wanted it to look like Fury Road. A little seedling, yet to turn into a ripe peach when set behind its predecessor. The visuals are duller, and while I’m not sure what was attainable filming in a different country, you’ll take the toll of not catching the public’s eye. Humans, we’re like magpies (or crows), there’s no way around it. The hot-blue sky and even hotter orange sand are almost like missing characters.

The way Furiosa loses her arm — I was (in all of my know-it-allness) so sure that, the reason it happened was because she had tried to run away a couple times too many, making someone take away her map. Still, the canon alternative leans so much more into the very nature of Mad Max narratives — bad things will happen no matter how hard we try to avoid them, how far we run from them. The act of not only having to do it herself to live, but also knowing she'd have to trust her memory from now on, is such a clever and heartbreaking choice.

Plot holes can be extrapolated to be worn-out patches or vice-versa, potential for fan additions, creative liberty or overall diversity in interpretations, but I can’t help but yearn for more story – clarification – in some bits. Did no one notice how Furiosa went missing? And no one recognized this little, so thought war-boy, popping up from chains and car gears? When she came back as road warrior Furiosa, I connected the dots that Jack convinced Joe to let her stay as a road warrior, “she’s too good at what she does to be lowered into breeding stock.” Or something of this nature. Charlize’s headcanon of a proven barren Furiosa, bitterly recycled as Praetorian sounded more realistic, but that’s at least one less trauma on her back.

But fear not, not everything is mediocre!

Anya is magnificent, but she feels like a different font of the character – and fair enough! Tom is captivating, Jack is so easy to crush on, every interaction between him and Furi feels like a warm hand clasp. Organic Mechanic, The People Eater, Kalashnikov – even if briefly – maintain their brilliance. Joe feels like Joe but younger, like he’s growing out his evil glare, blunt-blow personality and whatever-it-takes mindset; all that’ll unwillingly soften as he’s past his peak, aged and tired. Scrotus is nowhere as cruel and distressingly unstable as I expected, which is as unfortunate as it isn’t – he’s a fun little guy. Rictus has a surprising twist, and more intellect than I assumed. I’ll take it as his mental capacity being wavering and hard to measure.

Dementus is his own thing. He’s a confident failure, a powerful mess, a character playing a character. He’s so immersed in his idea of greatness he began believing it, no matter how pathetic life proves him to be – and he’ll only come to his senses too late, but regretting none of it. That’s a character I’d read a second chapter of comics about.

Cars, cars, cars. They don’t feel as grand, no longer a key object – and again, fair enough! The War Rig was so many things beyond a truck, but there’s no need for such thing again. For the CGI, I silently winced less than I thought I would, but a couple times too many. Dealbreaker? No.

The blurt out between Furiosa and Dementus in the end, oh, grandiose. Quite literal while maintaining some poeticism, time-old lesson about revenge.

There were many more things I planned on writing down, many of which I talked about so much after watching that my brain made sure to wear away and discard so I could shut up – or alternatively, attain some ability to be briefer. The rest of it I considered irrelevant while my brain revved and fingers burned rubber on the keyboard.

Every time I try to ponder this movie fully, I start out excited, get upset midway through and finish it contently and glad George is still so in love with his own creation, as he should be. In the end, Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga isn’t as shine as Fury Road, and as much as I don’t use one as a standard to the other, comparison is unavoidable – just don’t let it be thing that ruins the experience for you. It is an unpolished V8, a movie I wanted, thought we didn’t need, and wouldn’t trade back.

Witnessed! Risen from the ashes of this world into the gates of my Mad Max hyperfixation.

———

NOTE: PLEASE take into consideration this is my opinion and i'm NOT seeking beef. you have every right to disagree, just keep things civil.

[selfish-solace]

i have to say it’s kind of funny seeing people reblog my poorly made fo4 essay after the show came back. welcome back haters. If anyone’s curious about my thoughts on the tv show, it’s not my thing. i don’t really like it. i think the props department and the set people did a fantastic job but i think all the problems ive pointed out about fo4 carry into it heavily. and everything about like. everything. I don’t like the brotherhood as a milita, and it’s. Weird. To see west coast brotherhood portrayed as that.

to be clear, i have not finished the show nor do i plan on finishing it. i got about halfway through and im not going to hold the parts I haven’t seen against it. for the purposes of this rant, pretend that all you’ve seen is 4 episodes. act like this is still cable. and don’t get fucking weird about the fact I decided I wasn’t into it and dropped it. i don’t care if you personally think these issues are fixed by the end of the show.

ive always been an insane fallout conspiracy theorist and i was expecting to at least get super mad about the lore but im just. kind of apathetic. i think personally, that it’s fucking baffling that they decided to make their one main black character . like that. Maximus is like, constantly failing or being incredibly cruel to another person. like, when he put a razor into his only friends shoe for no reason other then social clout. i don’t know if they considered the optics of making the entirety of the brotherhood horrifically abuse the only black character because i genuinely believed for like the first three episodes that there was going to be some kind of “this brotherhood is racist” reveal, but no. I don’t think they thought about that. i don’t think they thought about much, to be honest. it feels like every new bit of information we get has to be delivered to us in the most unsubtle of ways. And that makes it boring to me. i don’t like how there’s essentially nobody normal in the wasteland except Lucy, because like. that’s really never been the case.

yeah, sure, there’s a bit of cruelty in everyone in fallout. that’s how this world works. But this show beats you over the head with the conclusion that everyone must be not trusted and everyone is to be feared and the wasteland really has fallen into complete anarchy. i think the complete destruction of shady sands and the ncr is a direct concequence of that choice. bethesda fallouts are kind of stuck in the old world apocalypse, and i just. think that’s kind of boring. the whole fantasy of fallout is seeing how things can change, and it feels like sometimes Bethesda takes “war never changes” too literally. like yeah. but that’s not what the quote means. it’s about how conflict is always the same, not how the world around it stays the same always. i also just think the fact there’s really nothing new or original to explore here is .. boring.

Quite frankly, im tired of the brotherhood. Im tired of the ncr. Im tired of the “find your family” plot. Im tired of the enclave. there’s nothing to mix up the formula. and im sorry, but i think the characters are boring too. i think that Walton goggins ghoul is not very interesting. I think Lucy’s arc is just. kind of predictable. because she’s literally just doing what people tell her with a kindness twist. fallouts always had these cool ass side characters, like, every dlc character from new Vegas. obviously it’s hard to translate that into a show, but who’s favorite is going to be the weird old lady? who’s honestly going to be interested in the horny farmers plight? does anyone care about that guy maximus was friends with? every character just falls flat for me. and that’s why i dropped it. because the new things it brings are just.. boring. and the things they keep the same are boring too. Genuinely, i had a better time watching the resident evil netflix show. at least that was interesting. I don’t care if you like it. I don’t think you’re a bad person for liking it. I get why. I just didn’t. be respectful in the notes please.

[sparrow-the-tired-lesbian]

my thoughts on the finale

I got my soda and Doritos lesgo 

*sees the episode title* oh no

Praying for Lokius canon

Oh Jesus Christ this is about to fuck me up for the rest of the month

Oh Victor-

LOKIIIII

MOBIUS BABY

spaghetti?

Spaghetti.

That music???

Why are we doing Beethoven 

Mobius is so confused bless this baby

Tom is just vibing

Minutes???

Skin?

LOKI LMFAO

Oh that’s creepy

OB YOURE SO CUTE

ITS PERFECT

Loki knows too much

Mobius control your little pet

Loki really took centuries to learn this

He just winked at timely, how is timely still living 

Smort Loki

AWww Loki is so cute

Awww Mobius 

SMOOCH

“What the shit are you doing” god things baby you wouldn’t understand

OH SUPPORTIVE LOKI

where was Loki when I was actively suicidal

Timely please you can do it

You’re doing so good honey

Hurry before you fuckin die

HE DID ITTTTT

OH LOKI IS SO EXCITED

MY HEART

OH VICTOR

*audible insanity noises*

WIZARD-

OH LOKI WOULD BE SUCH A GREAT FATHER/MOTHER TO THISE BOYS IF MÖBIUS’S

Uh oh

This is bad

Oh Loki is about to go mad

Oh Sylvie hello wife

Say something to your bitch ass husband Loki

Oh Victor no-

He’s just ready for death

THAT FACE

wait why are we here

Don’t do that

DINT DO THAT

IF YOU FALL IN LOVE I SWEAR I WILL FUCKING SHIT MYSELF THIS IS A THREAT

Sylvie can stab me any day

SHUT THE FUCK UP

WHY ARE YOU TEMPTING FATE VICTOR

DONT OPEN A VEIIIIIIN

FREEEEEZE YOUR BRAINNNNN

don’t do any of this

Stop trying

oh plot twist

Lover boy???

Shut the fuck up HWR. I’ll fucking kill you myself.

He’s such a bitch I partly love him and partly hate him.

sir why are you a poet

I feel like they didn’t even try with Sylvie’s outfit. Her hair isn’t supposed to be a middle part in this era

We’re getting a lot of info 

But those people aren’t easy to rebuild

Haha pun

I’m gonna kms if Sylki does anything major again 

HA MAJOR

A PUN

What if you just… got rid of all corrupted Kang variants? That’s what the TVA should be for. Preventing war, by surveying the timeline for variants who wish to start a war.

Offer him his husband and he’ll accept.

Part of me goes “kill her to protect Lokius” and the other says “no my baby-”

MOBIUS

HES BACK

someone’s got a hold of the set list

Story time!!!

This feels personal

Mobius was that you

Oh dear

OH MY GOD

CHEEK KISS PLEASE :)

MOBIUS NO

VERITY NO

SYLVIE NO-

if y’all have a romance moment I will murder everyone

Don’t get closer

Stop this

Stop

Please

This isn’t fun

Oh my god Sylvie I love you but shut up

Oh great

Chanting for the cheek kiss please and thanks

Why the smile?

Where are you going?

Oh no

OH NO

looking at the two people he loved stop hurting me

OH NO THE SMILE

MOBIUS IS PANICKING IM PANICKING

(Will be reblogging with part two)

[joehawke]

Gave Me Something To Lose

Inspired by this post. Please be aware this is very melodramatic and if that isn’t your thing then feel free to scroll past lol. Set many years after Vecna, Steve and Eddie and their relationship have changed a lot for reasons you’ll read just keep that in mind. :)

Plot loosely based on the musical The Last Five Years

There’s just some things Steve can’t explain, stupid stuff like why the sky is blue or why his feet squeak against the linoleum floor no matter how many times he replaces the loose wood panels. He’ll never understand the concept of magnets, and he’ll never understand why Robin insists on continuing to put up with her weird hippy parents despite her constant grievances. It’s the little things, like how Dustin and Suzie communicate that don’t make sense to him, or the way Hopper grumbles about being around so many ‘damn kids’ when Steve knows he wouldn’t change it for the world. It’s the little things he pays attention to that others wouldn’t notice, like the way Max draws stars on the cuffs of her jeans when she gets nervous or the way Mike and Nancy have the same tendency, a signature if you will, to pick at their skin when they get mad. It’s the little things he can’t explain, the little things that leave him lying awake at night asking himself a million questions. 

But it's also the little things that stick with him, like those unruly magnets he’s yet to figure out (though he’s sure if he were to ask Dustin he’d get his answer almost immediately, but maybe it’s the wondering that leaves him aware and present). 

It’s those stupid nagging unsure of explanations that have him and Eddie staring angrily at each other across the dim flickering kitchen light - and damn it, Steve thought he fixed that stupid bulb. Steve’s head is starting the throb, like every fiber and being in him is fighting against one another and isn’t that just great? Like he needs another fight. This wasn’t his plan. Maybe that was the issue. That’s what started this whole mess, wasn’t it? 

The enormity of time sits like a weight on Steve’s chest, the ticking of Wayne’s old grandfather clock giving way to the eerie silence of the living room, the sound reverberating off Steve’s mothers old china. Steve closes his eyes, the hope of another day far away from this one blur on the inside of his lids. The sound of a trash bag lures Steve out, and it takes everything in him not to just walk away and never look back, but he can’t. Who would he be if he did? Images of his father flash into his mind before he shakes him away with a force he hasn’t been met with in awhile. 

Steve watches with careful eyes as Eddie opens the bag wide, dumping the remnants of what was supposed to be something carefree and new, now beginning to crumble to the bottom of the flimsy transparent plastic. He watches as Eddie’s shoulder blades flex through the cream satin of his shirt with every sharp movement, and it all feels too harsh and Steve knows this feeling all too well. 

He closes his eyes once more and breathes in the smell of stale champagne and left over stuffed chicken, and tries to imagine a world where his relationships don't turn out like his parents. Images of Nancy and now Eddie filter into his head. He fails. 

He blows out the candles one by one, watching the smoke twist and twine its way into the dimly lit room, disappearing into the moonlight escaping through the curtains. He can feel a pair of eyes on him as he examines the crescent shape of pink leftover lips that have imprinted themselves onto the champagne flutes, Robin and Nancy’s signature colors making themselves known as Steve tucks the stem of each glass in between his fingers, ignoring the lingering pair of eyes as he makes his way to the kitchen. 

He can see Eddie from his peripherals clearing Steve’s mothers old china off the table, stacking them with a force that makes him cringe. Steve scrubs harder at the remanence of smudged lips and closes his eyes once again, hoping, praying to a God he’s not sure he believes in, that in this moment, he’ll wake up to the day he and Eddie first kissed outside his pool. Eddie with his ridiculous red and black board shorts, and Steve with his way too tiny yellow trunks, a giant smile playing on his lips as he watches Eddie play fetch with the border collie from down the street that sneaks in under Steve’s fence every time Steve grills. 

Steve’s pulled out of his trance by the sound of glass on glass and when he opens his eyes with a startle, Eddie has set the stacked plates down on the counter next to the sink. Steve turns and continues to scrub at the flutes, continues to keep his eyes locked in front of himself. 

Eddie has his calloused palms wrapped tightly around a beer bottle, the warm amber like liquid sloshing gently against the ceramic as he brings it up to his lips. Steve can feel him pause, like he’s weighing his options studiously, before he fully takes the long awaited sip, the liquid disappearing down his throat with one gulp. The silence cuts through the kitchen and Steve can’t decide if he should leave it, let it fester like a fresh wound, or let it dissipate into friendly chatter. Steve knows the latter is far from. He reaches for one of the stacked plates, the gold rim of the porcelain glimmering in the kitchen light, when a hand reaches for the sponge in Steve’s left hand, setting it down in the sink gently.

 Steve finally lets himself look up at Eddie, and the reflection he’s met with suddenly angers him. His cupid’s bow is wet with a golden tint of what Steve can only imagine to be as beer, and the purple crescent indents under his eyes are almost comical, though Steve doesn't laugh. He twines his hands with Steve’s, and instead of giving him the satisfaction of pulling away, Steve stands his guard and goes for looking down at their feet instead; Eddie’s “nicest” smudged combat boots that Steve always gets a good laugh at, and Steve’s freshly polished dress shoes his parents got him in Venice for some holiday long forgotten, stare back at him in a taunting manor. 

Silence morphs its way around the room, closing in on him like something dark, and he wishes he had the courage to say something, anything, but he doesn't. He can’t be his parents. And saying something - voicing it aloud, doesn’t that make his worst fear creep its hands up his throat, allowing them to choke him once and for all? So instead, Steve focuses on that stupid flickering light bulb and despite the memories the flickering tends to bring back, he sits in it nonetheless - because sitting in those memories he thinks, is better than sitting in this weird limbo he’s tried so hard to keep away. But he’s never been one to win a fight.

“Stevie...”

And just like that, the sound barrier breaks, the static that was beginning to engulf Steve, shattering in an instant, and he can’t tell if it makes him want to exhale or inhale, yet he doesn't respond. 

“Steve. Come on” Eddie says, his tone harsh and tired, his head lulling to the side. And Eddie’s never harsh. He’s gentle and sometimes jittery, but never harsh. He’s migrated his hands to Steve’s hips, and he can feel every nerve in Steve freeze, “Stevie please. Can we talk about this? Can’t we go one night without fighting?” Steve’s jaw tightens and it takes everything in him not to look up into the brown he knows is staring down at him; the brown forest Steve once used to imagine sonnets were made of. The brown forest Steve’s watched dim over the last few years. “For god sake Steve. I thought you would be happy! Why are you acting like this?” 

Out of everything that has been said tonight, this makes Steve physically laugh. He looks up at him, a smile starting to form on Eddie’s own lips and this makes Steve laugh harder. 

“What’s so funny?” Eddie asks, a slight hint of humor lacing the previous venom. 

“You think I’m laughing with you” Steve laughs out. A statement. Not a question. Tears blur Steve’s vision and part of Steve blames it on the laughter bubbling in his chest, but a deeper rooted part blames it on the salty storm that has been festering all night. Steve can feel Eddie’s demeanor change, his hands freezing in their place, wilting like a flower in late summer, and the still eeriness of it all grounds Steve in a way he’s yet to allow himself to explore. 

“What is your problem?” Eddie spits, a supercilious filter dripping with every syllable. Steve lets himself look up at this. Lets himself search his eyes for an answer he knows is long gone. Steve lets himself go. For this one, mere minute, he allows himself to defend himself for just this once. Screw his vows to not end up like his father. He’s tired of acting like the picture perfect housewife his mother once was. Correction; his mother still is.  

“My problem?” Steve asks quietly, a hint of nothing but unadulterated venom lacing his tone like cloyed honey. 

“Oh don’t play the victim Steve. You’ve been nothing but cold and bitter all night. Not everything is about you. Did that ever occur to you? Oh right, of course not, because nothing else matters to King Steve as he sits here and falters in his big old castle” Eddie spits, turning to the liquor cabinet before reaching for the bottle of heavy, amber colored liquid. 

Steve watches as he pours himself another glass, his nails digging into the palm of his hand, purple crescent shapes forging into the silky skin as he takes in the words Eddie let snake their way around their kitchen. King Steve King Steve King Steve King — No. No No. Eddie was supposed to be the person who saw through his stupid placated facade and Eddie was supposed to be the person who understood and when did that get so screwed up? When did they get so lost in translation? Steve’s so fucking tired of sitting still and acting like a good fucking trained puppy. 

“Eddie.” Breathe. Once. In. Out. Exhale. Stand your guard. “I found out you planned on packing up and moving across the country through a ‘celebratory’ dinner with our friends and family. That you were planning on leaving for yet another year long tour. Excuse me for being selfish”. Steve spits, watches as Eddie processes what he said, as he almost smiles in mirth at the fact that for once, Steve spoke up rather than nodded his head and agreed. That for once, Steve fought against, and Steve can’t tell if the clench of his jaw is out of curiosity or out of anger over the fact that Steve didn’t abide. And when the fuck did Steve become his mother? Steve refused to let him win this time.

Eddie says nothing. Steve pictures his mother keeping her mouth shut by downing her endless bottles of wine. Steve’s tired of drowning with his mother. He continues. “You can’t think that for one moment I was going to be happy about this, did you? I’ve supported you since we bought that stupid shoebox apartment and you told me Corroded Coffin got a record deal. I supported you when you were gone days at a time because you had to leave town to ‘record a new single’. I supported you when you left me home alone for another three weeks as you played dive bars across the state. I put my life on hold for you, so sorry if this so-called ‘surprise’ didn’t make me happy” Steve says, letting go of a breath he didn’t know he was holding, releasing his nails from the flesh of his palm. 

The air in the kitchen has gone quiet once again, and Steve thinks about an entity where silence isn’t the only option. Steve watches as Eddie searches his face for an answer to a question Steve’s yet to figure out. Steve sometimes wonders if people look at his life like some massive question and somehow he’s the wrong answer. Steve wonders when the day will come when people will realize he hasn't even solved his own unattainable mess of an equation. 

The grandfather clock strikes twelve and Eddie downs the rest of the warm hazy liquid, lazily tossing the cup into the sink. Steve steps back, an old habit he never quite realized he started doing. But maybe that’s a lie as images of Tommy Hagen yelling at him ‘that’s right Stevie boy, run away! Run away just like you always do!’ make his way to the front of his brain.

Eddie’s jaw clenches, and Steve watches as Eddie’s hands shake, a tell tale he’s nervous or upset. Steve doesn’t feel like deciphering which one it is today. Maybe Steve should’ve stopped there, maybe they could’ve gone to bed and figured it out in the morning. But that was the issue, wasn’t it? They never did figure it out. They’d go to bed with hope clasped between their fingertips as tense unsalvageable feelings warped their way between their sides of the bed. And Eddie would leave the next morning like nothing happened and Steve would wait at the door like a sad pitiful lost cause. And he was sick of it. He was so fucking sick of it. He vowed to never turn into his ‘grade A asshole’ of a father and yet, the one person he never would’ve thought to fear would be his sad excuse of a mother. And something in him aches for her. Something in him wants to reach out, hold her hand, whisper out broken promises as she tells him they’ll get out of this hole together. But his mother isn’t here and his fathers knuckles ache against his cheek as they try to reach down his throat and continue what Steve never wanted to start in the first place. “You know better boy, if you’re going to start a fight - you need to execute and end it. Got it?” So excuse Steve if he never was good at biting his tongue. 

“I’m not some fucking trophy wife for you to come home to and fuck away your stresses and then pack up and leave again. I’m not here for your - your – disposal” Steve spits, the venom starting to lace his words like something vile. Steve watches as something close to mirth flashes across Eddie’s eyes. 

“It’s not my fault you haven’t figured out what the hell you want to do with your life Steve! Excuse me for being happy for once your highness” Eddie laughs out, digging into his pockets if not just to have something to fidget with. 

“That’s not fair Eddie and you know it” Steve says quietly, and Eddie and Steve both know Eddie cut open a scar Steve’s been trying to close for ages now. And maybe Steve should blame himself really. A part of Eddie is right. Steve flunked out of his first few courses at the community college, but he had wanted to try again once he was in a better headspace. Only - that space never came. He was always too busy watching everyone else from the sidelines. He has nothing to prove for himself, and Eddie knows this. God Eddie knows this and he’s just bringing it to light isn’t it? And speaking of light, that stupid bulb is just flickering more aggressively and Steve’s head is throbbing twice as hard and his heart hurts and he’s so fucking tired. 

“Why not? You know it’s true. You sit around here all day moping and fixing shit that doesn’t need to be fixed. Have you ever stopped and thought, hm, maybe I should start fixing myself?” Eddie spits, continuing, and maybe Steve broke a while back, maybe Steve’s been broken since his father fed ideas of being nothing but a failure into his head. Maybe he’s been broken since Tommy Hagen planted the seed of an idea into his head and because Steve was too weak, he let the roots grow.  Maybe Steve’s been broken since he got rightfully punched by Johnathan Byers all those years ago. Maybe Steve’s been broken since his first encounter with the monsters he discovered lived outside just his head. But then Eddie came along and slowly but surely, started to piece his broken figures back together like it was the easiest thing he’s ever done. When did they start to fray around the edges and come undone again? When did Steve stop noticing Eddie had stopped picking up the pieces? Steve’s line of vision becomes blurry as tears threaten to escape his waterline. Eddie eyes Steve carefully, as if he were weighing an inner turmoil. “I will not lose because you can’t win Steve.” And suddenly, all the fight that Steve had left evaporates from his body like something ghostly.

“Fuck you Eddie” Steve whispers before turning back towards the living room and making his way out of sight into the dark hallway. Somewhere in the vast, unspoken quietude and space between them, lies a million questions, and this time, Steve won’t allow himself to explain them. 

I told you it would be melodramatic…

So whether or not you think Eddie or Steve or neither of them are the bad guy, I’ll leave up to your interpretation. Do I do a part two? Or leave it as it is to showcase not all relationships are perfect? (Cliche of me I know) thoughts are always appreciated

Please also note that I lowkey hated the characterization of both eddie and Steve and felt they were out of character until after I had finish and I came to the realization that I wrote them like that to showcase how hurt and insecurities can change both people and a relationship.

[kitkatopinions]

Sorry to come into your ask box to vent after your post...

But I gotta say, you certainly managed to really sum up everything I dislike about the mentality of "subverting expectations = good storytelling" folks.

Like, it had been such a thing for people to say "X is so good because it subverts audience expectations!" And it's been driving me up a wall because that's just such a backward mentality about it: subverting audience expectations is a completely neutral thing, and one can just as easily ruin a story by going against audience expectations as tell a good story by playing out what the audience might be expecting.

Which, not to necessarily be mean about RW//BY, but yeah... that so many passionate defenders of it are also of the "a story is good cuz it subverts expectations" crowd is... not unexpected.

No, but for real! The way that people and seemingly a lot of writers think that surprise = good is frustrating!:This is one reason why spoilers are such a big deal to people, is that their viewing experience seems to bank on surprise and shock about who might die, who ends up together, who wins what victory in the end. I should be able to know all the plot points and plot twists going in and still enjoy the finished product just as much. If something isn't well set up (Adam's switcheroo in motives, the existence of the gods, Penny being a flesh person, the Ever After, Blake's personality change, arguably Ruby's depression in V9,) or not well done (Ironwood's fall to villainy, Ozpin's gray morality, the bees, Neo's eventual suicide, Ruby's journey as a SEW, the whole morals of the whole show) then whether or not it 'subverts expectations' is entirely irrelevant.

People are fully allowed to complain that they thought a piece of media would do something they wanted and instead did something they personally don't like that much, also, because that IS a bummer. But when I complain about RWBY, most of the time it's not just because I'm salty that it isn't doing what I think I'd personally like more. Like, I like the game Octopath Traveler, but I wish it wasn't that 8-bit looking early video game design, but at the end of the day I don't care because just because it doesn't fit my personal preference doesn't mean it isn't good. I wish Zuko had joined the Gaang earlier in ATLA or had more time with the Gaang than he did, but I still think Zuko's story is as close to perfect as it probably could've been. I just write or read fanfiction for the personal preference stuff. But the complaints I typically have for RWBY aren't like that. Like YEAH I actually DO prefer stories without heroes falling to villainy and with lots of redemption arcs, but I'm not about to hate RWBY just for not following my own personal preferences. No, I criticize RWBY for the bad execution, the lack of emotional pay-off in their story beats, the inconsistent morality they splash here and there whenever it sounds good and then forget about. RWBY is a confused show packed with ideas that never seem to be able to come together and writers that seem more interested in making giffable moments than a well done story. It's just generally not a well written well executed show.

I think that 'it subverts your expectations' is just one of many excuses that people use to wave away criticism with as little thought or effort or need to actually engage in discourse as possible. Just like complaints that the writers weren't interested in good world building and lore and therefore the transition from the moster school drama Beacon Era into magical world traversing quest wasn't well done are waved away with 'you're just mad the writers aren't following your headcanons' or 'you just want cute girls to go brr and hate substance' without actually addressing the true meat of the complaint or offering any substantial counterargument.

BTW, complain any time! I don’t mind hearing it at all. XD