#improbable couple tag

[allthegothihopgirls]

thinking about "a mediation on railroading" where tim's making his way across the country back to gotham alone after, circumstances. and out of nowhere he stumbles upon jason, hundreds of miles away from home.

and it's got me thinking about the statistical improbability of that entire scenario, but also how it'd be funny if that's just the type of thing that happens between the batkids on a regular basis.

like they don't always have to be halfway across the country, or in the most dire of situations, but they always find each other when they shouldn't be.

one of the kids is losing a fight, captured, or left for dead? you can bet it's going to be a sibling that finds them.

damian's dealing with jerks from school, on a field trip a couple of towns over. it just so happens jason's there on work, in full red hood get up, and he sees the kids. he has a word with them, no one knows what he said, but the kids quietly apologise to damian and stop bothering him.

tim's been kicked out of his house again, and finds a cafe to sit in while his dad cools off, and it's dick who coincidentally walks in to the same cafe on his lunch break, and convinces tim to tag along with him on the rest of his work day, and encourages him to stay at wayne manor for the night.

there's also the instances of jason, minding his own business, patrolling streets, or doing mundane things like grocery shopping. but whatever it is, he's lucky to have one outing without one of his siblings approaching him out of nowhere. (whether or not some of them do it on purpose is up for debate)

anyways, found family or whatever the people say

[aziraphales-library]

Hi all! Thank you very much for all of your hard work. I've glad for this account since there is always something fun to read popping up. Can the Mods recommend any fics where either Aziraphale or Crowley use dating apps for any reason?

Hello. You'll find fics like this, including some of the fics listed here, on our #social media tag, but here are some dating app specific fics...

Bloggers, Baby! by Estrella3791 (T)

Crowley's a blogger, and he may or may not be developing a crush on his commenters. But he's not really - Oh, what's this? Angel1941 is on Tinder??

Oh, Lord, Heal This Love by WaitingToBeBroken (T)

"Looking for someone to take to couples therapy and see how long it takes the therapist to notice we don't know each other," is what Crowley's dating profile says. Too bad Aziraphale was too busy staring at those graceful fingers in his picture to realise that, before he agreed to go on a date with him.

abide by me by cosmya (T)

The year is 2001. Crowley runs a fake marriage website, and Aziraphale has encountered a... problem that requires his services. Naturally, they have No Idea that it's each other at first, but when Aziraphale proves a difficult client, Crowley takes matters into his own hands.

Dim the Lights and Sing You Songs by Polaris (E)

A few months prior to leaving the Dowling household, Crowley had downloaded Grindr for the sole purpose of catfishing randy morons. He was not expecting a paragraph that began with: ‘hello. I hope you don’t think this is too forward, but I couldn’t help but notice you have the most lovely nipples.’ Crowley keeps trying to meet his Grindr fuckbuddy. Aziraphale keeps showing up at all his meeting spots. This is terrible.

MatchMade! by amaruuk (E)

Crowley tests a new dating app for an online publication. When his match dumps him for another man's match, he and his fellow dumpee take a chance on each other.

With Potential by Caedmon (E)

Aziraphale is an author of popular and successful romance novels. His books have done very well, so he's surprised when his publisher, Gabriel, comes in and tells him that they expect him to start including explicit sex scenes instead of just the fade-to-black he's been writing. Aziraphale argues a bit, but it's pointless. Gabriel isn't asking, he's telling. And now Aziraphale is in a pickle. He doesn't have a wide swath of sexual experience to pull inspiration from. So his assistant, Anathema, helpfully suggests that he download some dating apps and seek someone to hook up with for casual sex. Aziraphale is appalled by the idea of casual sex at first, and thinks that this plan is going to go absolutely nowhere, but agrees to give it a try. Three guesses what happens next.

The Grindr Logo Doesn't Even Have a 'G' In It by indieninja92 (E)

After the Apocalypse, Aziraphale ventures into a new space in the gay milieu - Grindr. There he starts talking to a charming young man who certainly doesn't bear any resemblance at all to a certain long streak of demon, not one bit, no thank you. Meanwhile, Aziraphale and Crowley navigate their friendship after the world failed to end. There is much drinking and silliness, but could it be that there are other feelings lurking underneath?? Of course there are, this is fanfic.

The Mathematical Improbability of Reaching the Stars by cassieoh, D20Owlbear (M)

Aziraphale, 3rd year doctoral candidate in Library Sciences and current failure at Astronomy 101, finds out about an app for meeting people from some undergraduates. He’s desperate for a tutor so he decides to try it out. Surely someone in the wilds of Tinder is willing to help him learn about the stars? Meanwhile, in said wilds of Tinder, Crowley (high school dropout, star enthusiast, and official garden center plant-harasser) is not really looking for anything past dinner and maybe ‘tea’ back at their place. Hijinks, and also a surprisingly intricate plot, ensue.

- Mod D

[fillinforlater]

Loathing Love: Lavish Lies (Part 4)

Male Reader x Kwon Eunbi + Kang Hyewon x Jo Yuri

Length: 9060 words

Tags: emotional drama, smut, cheating, alcohol, rage, anger issues, bisexuality, girl x girl relationship, girl x girl action, threesome, literal breeding, mating press, face sitting, squirting, clit play, dirty talk, the dumbest, most improbable sex ever, this is NOT real life, very dark ending

TW: includes topics like cheating, alcohol, sex and death

Inspiration: "Look at Me" by XXXTENTACION, Hyewon x Yuri best ship, gay power couple; this had to be released in Pride Mont (glad I could make it lol), also @capslocked ; @iznsfw, I'm sorry.

(A/N: THE FINALE of my L4 Series. It's finally here. The promise is fulfilled. I hope you get the ending and don't hate me. It's all fiction.)

“Look at me, fuck on me / Look at me, fuck on me / Look at me, fuck on me.”

Volume decreased by eighty percent. You don’t need someone screaming in your ears right now. It only makes you want to scream back. The poor guy has been dead for almost five years now, he doesn’t really deserve it. If you’re honest to yourself, he feels way too on point. Better turn the radio off entirely.

His voice still resonates in your mind, as you get out of the car. Combined with Hyewon’s and Yuri’s moans, they form an inglorious, deadly symphony to fuel your hatred. Visuals of you screaming, scratching, beating fragile, pale skin pop up in your mind. This wave of emotions, it’s crashing in on you like a tsunami. Sadly, it doesn’t bury you. It only makes you angrier.

Push open the door and Eunbi gasps. She kneels on the living room floor, right next to the carpet. Her clothes are in tatters, her knees covered in bruises, but worst of all, her face is ruined with scratches, blood and runny mascara. It looks like someone already did the things you imagined in your head: beat her up and left her whimpering on the floor. The punishment for someone who cheats and lies.

Grab Eunbi’s lifeless arm and pull it up. Your fiance begins to cry, she begs not with words but with her eyes. The way she shakes her head is in honest fear. The potential strikes scare her, how your palm will meet her face over and over again in a loveless, hurt beating.

But you sigh.

"I can't," you squeeze out, voice cracking with every word. "I hate seeing you like this. You deserve to be thrown out and beg for money on the street. But I can't, I—"

You pull Eunbi into a hug. Her small frame melts into your arms, her feet unable to support her. She is like a wet sack, surprisingly heavy. You're barely able to drag her to the couch and watch her whimper and cry, face hidden behind her elbow.

"I still love you, Eunbi.

"Let's try again."

"Y-yes," she sobs and tightly grabs your shirt.

"Let's marry, Eunbi."

"Y-yes, th-thank you."

#

The proposal might have been a mess, but the marriage was not. Everything was meticulously planned, and even the tiniest details went perfectly. No one knew of Eunbi's affair, and you kept it this way. 

Even after your marriage, your luck did not run out. Everything was working out. Two promotions in a year, a new, bigger house, two cars, a part time job for Eunbi that she really enjoys. Talking about Eunbi, she became attentive, caring, adoring, loving to the point where your wound began to heal.

Eight months into your marriage, you became an actor.

No, not the type that moves to Hollywood, swims in money and earns fame with every new movie. The type who has to act all day every day. You have to pretend that it's all fine, smile at everyone, always say the right things—

Acting is lying. You lie to them, because you cannot live with her lying to you.

Eunbi does not know about the abundance of security cameras you installed around and inside the house. They are tiny, but very modern and always connected to your phone for constant surveillance of your expensive home.

Not a single criminal has tried to enter your home—but multiple other 'criminals' entered something else.

At first, it was one guy. Tall, handsome, expensive suit. Eunbi greeted him with a smile. You watched the footage quite confused. The two of them sat down in the living room and talked for a bit. It looked like he tried to sell her something, but it also looked fake, like they were—

Role playing.

A minute later, Eunbi's arms and feet were wrapped around him as he drilled his cock deep inside her cunt. There was no sound, but you could see her moan and scream as he went faster.

Three weeks later, another guy. He seemed to not like role playing. Eunbi opened the door and his tongue was in her mouth immediately. They fucked all over the kitchen, on every damn counter. At least this guy was somewhat attractive.

Things got horrible after this. Guy after guy walked into your home and fucked your wife. Hole after hole, day after day. Whenever you were at work and she wasn't, a cock was inside her. One time, someone seemed to comment on her hair and the next day she went to dye it blonde. 

That was also the day you decided to not touch her anymore. You stay at work longer, until late at night. Work frees your mind a little, and soon they will promote you to the second highest position. 500k after taxes, seemingly infinite money, yet you still weep and down whiskey each night watching guys go to town on her.

Today, two guys arrived together. They spit roasted her on the bed, which was already covered in her juices and sweat from another guy an hour before. 

The video flashes before your dead eyes. You drop another piece of ice into the glass, watch the auburn whiskey sway and cool. Down it goes as Eunbi gets ready to take a cock up her loose asshole. For the first time, you look at the new guy who groans as Eunbi takes his cock.

His smug grin. It's the same motherfucker, the one you caught with Eunbi a bit over a year ago. 

For the first time, you stop your mindless staring at the screen. You pause the security footage as rage builds up at this stupid expression on this stupid face. Without hesitation, you reach for the glass and repeatedly smash it into the screen. It breaks in violent sparks and the room goes fully dark. 

You tear the screen off the wall, the same way you tear out the self-pity in your sorrow-filled heart. A violent kick sends the monitor into the computer and the thousand dollar set-up is reduced to broken scrap metals and torn wires.

The entire office is suddenly so dark and silent. Not that you were watching with sound, but the vivid pictures produced enough sounds in your head. It's all gone now, together with the dirty light displaying dirty pleasure. 

Don't lie to yourself; this was stupid. But as much as it was stupid, it was also necessary and it felt so right. Even though your favorite whiskey glass fell victim to your rampage, you don't regret it. You need more of this.

Throughout the entire night, you continue to mess up your workplace. You stuff bins and trash cans with everything in your office: Semi-important documents, plants, cables, liquor, chairs and especially all the unnecessary, lavish accessoires you gathered here for some reason. At dawn, the only thing that remains is a table, a chair, a laptop with a charger and a bottle of water. A frugal set-up, but more than enough for your job.

At 6:30 am, you arrive at home and jump right into bed, next to your snoring wife. With a quick glance you check her hand; the ruby embellished gold ring sparkles at her finger. A real, absurdly expensive piece of jewelry on a fake piece of shit, you think but smile nonetheless. There is some irony about it that you can't pin down yet, but you'll look for it a bit more.

#

A knock at your door. 

"Come on in," you say without looking up from your screen. It's probably the intern again, asking for help or another task. To your surprise, it's someone far more important.

"Still feels weird, when you remember what this room used to look like." A man, two decades older than you and a decade more work experience in this company carefully scoots into your office and wanders around it. "It's surprisingly vast."

You close your laptop when the man does not watch. It's out of respect, but for some reason, you do not fear him anymore. His name is Sakimoto, member of the board of directors and chairman of the staff council. Usually, there is only one reason for him to come into your office himself—and it's not a good one.

"How can I help you, Mr. Sakimoto?" you say with an insincere smile.

"Tell me," he responds, eyes wide in either insanity or genuine interest, hard to tell with someone like him. "Why did you throw it all away? It looks like a cell."

"It—to be honest, I—

"Well that's the point. None of the stuff is helpful in any way, even worse, it's distracting, unnecessary bullshit that keeps me from focusing. I don't need it, I don't want it anymore."

Sakimoto nods at your words, his expression never changing, not even at the use of your obscene slip. Maybe being a psychopath is a job requirement for Sakimoto's position. You can't bear to look at his slight smile and wide orbs any longer.

"Intriguing," he finally says and turns towards your door again. "You'll be at the board meeting tonight, 8pm flat."

"Yes, Sir," you calmly say, something grinding on your nerves as Sakimoto leaves without saying goodbye or closing the door. That's it, career over.

#

They’re gonna fire me, fuck.

This thought knocks on your mind the entire day, only getting stronger with every step you take towards the meeting room. Someone must have noticed your indefensible, erratic behavior, but how? Everyone was gone that night like they all are every night. You made sure of it by checking the nearby offices of your subordinates and co-workers. You even made sure to stuff all your furniture and electronics down to the bottom of the waste containers.

Maybe the board had a meeting and someone heard something? Fuck, that can’t be it, can it?

Deep breaths, calm breaths. If they know what happened, your fate is decided. You have enough money anyways. Other companies will still take you. You’re gonna be okay, this is just a small hit, a dent in the fast, unstoppable car that is you. If you’re honest, it’s a lot easier when you don’t care about the passenger or who she is fucking.

Bang the door thrice with confidence. The silence behind it becomes even more quiet, until someone urges you to enter in a strict, booming voice.

“You are a bit early,” the CEO says from the far end of the long table, his back to the setting sun visible through large windows behind him. The other board members look at you, some with a perfect poker face as if they are in serious business talks, others seem amused, maybe even a little tipsy, but what surprises you the most are those who look at you in anger and fear as if you were the grim reaper, coming for their souls.

“Better than being too late,” you respond with charme, your calm heart picking up in pace. 

“That is true!” the vice-CEO shouts and most board members fall into a short fit of laughter. They seem so odd, maybe they are making fun of you before forcing you to sign the resignation. You can already see the stack of paper in the CEO’s hand.

“Enough of this nonsense,” the CEO shouts. The laughs evaporate instantly, yet somehow, the positive vibes remain. The vice-CEO is grinning at you, even the CEO himself cracks a smile. He gets up from his chair, the paper firmly in both of his hands, and walks around the table towards you. Your feet seem to grow roots as he stops before you.

“Congratulations, Mr. Kwon,” he says cheerfully and hands you an—

“Official Invitation to the Board of Directors,” you read out loud in utter disbelief. 

“Mr. Kwon, why do you sound so shocked?” someone in the back asks and the CEO nods towards them with a sly grin.

“I did not inform him about our vote last week. Even Mr. Sakimoto only told him to be here today.

“Mr. Kwon, do you accept our invitation? You will be the thirteenth member, as Mr. Muentrich-Schleuser will resign next month. We all think that you are physically and mentally capable, have the pedigree and skill and most importantly, the outstanding drive to push this company forward. The growth in your department has been unmatched the past few months.”

The smooth, freshly printed piece of paper is in your hand. The other members gradually rise from their seats, all looking at you intently. They seemed so much bigger, when you entered the room, but now they are just like you. All you have to do is take the CEO’s stretched out hand, and you’ll be atop a mountain you never even dreamed of reaching. 

“D-do I have any other choice?” you say cooly, only your stutter betrays your facade. A couple of chuckles, the CEO looks at the ceiling and pretends to think.

“Well, you can’t go back to your apartment, as your successor has already been chosen. You could be transferred to Japan and lead the department there. It’d be the same pay as here but—”

He leans closer to whisper.

“—you’d have to pay more taxes there.

“What will it be, Mr. Kwon?”

#

You find yourself on the road again. Somehow, fate has you connected to your car. Whenever something big happened or is about to happen, you find yourself sitting in it, music blasting loud and numbing everything out. Tonight however, you purposefully turn the radio off and drive carefully. 

Let me celebrate somewhere; but where?

You won’t go home to your wife of course. She is more than undeserving to celebrate this moment with you. Most of your other friends and relatives are either asleep already or would ask stupid questions about Eunbi and why she isn’t celebrating alongside you. No, you need someone to not ask you about anything and just parties the night away.

Ah fuck it; strangers will do.

Park your car at the side of the road, don’t care for a ticket, hell, don’t give a fuck if someone decides to steal it. It’s used and you can easily buy a new one tomorrow if you want to. You wander down the street, busy with party-goers, drunk, high or both, some are a lot more focused and carry their drunk, high or both friends home. You loosen your tie, no need to look formally if everyone around you doesn’t either.

Suddenly, a familiar sight, a wooden structure with warm lights and that unmistakable smell. It’s almost nostalgic, magnetic, unavoidable, you just have to walk in there. As you grab the handle of the door and see the long, smooth, wooden counter, it hits you.

Oh my God.

“Oh, wow, haven’t seen you here in forever,” the bartender says when he sees you. His face hasn’t changed, his smile is the same, but you need a few moments to really recognize him again.

He takes a step back and smirks, firm grasp on a bottle of tequila.

“Well, yes, it has,” you respond and walk up to him. “It has easily been a year since my last visit, how the fuck do you remember me?”

“I have this tendency to remember people, especially because you were the last man to ever take her backstage.”

He winks and you throw your head back. Time flies, it really does, yet you find yourself sitting on the exact same stool on a very similar night with the same bartender. Even your wife is still a whore, fucking the same guys, probably right now as well. 

“So I take it that Hyewon is not coming here anymore?” you sigh and point at an expensive bottle of wine. The bartender swiftly uncorks it.

“I did not say that. She is just a lot more, let’s call it, picky. Okay, you know what?”

With an elegant pour he fills you a glass and places the dark ruby liquid on the counter before continuing.

“You can ask her yourself. She’ll be on stage in a couple minutes.”

A waft of wine hits your nostrils, but it’s a lot weaker than the words coming from his mouth. The thought of Hyewon blows you away, stronger than any liquor, no matter how high the amount of alcohol or the years it has matured. Hyewon, the kind stranger, the hot stranger, the stranger to fuck your stress out. Hyewon, the crazy friend, the bisexual friend, the let's-have-a-bar-backstage- threesome-with-this-hot-singer-friend. She was a big reason why you got over Eunbi cheating on you—but it has sadly not led you to the brightest of futures.

Maybe I should have stayed with her.

Take a sip of the wine. It’s delicious, celebratory, a drink for victors who have gained status and wealth beyond imagination, and you are now part of that group. At least you feel like it, even as the bar gets flooded with more and more people from all walks of life. Some look as well-dressed as you are, others clearly struggle to make ends meet in some months, but they're all here for the same thing.

Wait, what is Hyewon going to do on stage? Is she going to sing?

As you still wonder and savor the wine, one of the waitresses moves from light switch to light switch and slowly but surely fills the room in darkness. The crowd goes quiet as tension rises. Everyone is excited for sure, but none of them reach the level of thrill you feel when the spotlight illuminates the stage and a beautifully dressed woman appears behind the curtain.

Resounding cheers, applause, the occasional toast around you, inside you, but all you can do is watch in awe. Hyewon looks angelic, on one hand illegally beautiful, on the other illegally hot. Something about her is distant yet warm, unreachable yet magnetic, strangulating for the heart yet easy for the lunges—she is oxygen, or even better—the breathable air of heaven.

Hyewon.

Confidence in her stance which silences the crowd again, confidence in her hands which raise the mic to her glossy lips, most importantly, confidence in her voice as she starts the song with a powerful low note that almost throws you off the stool. 

It shouldn’t be such a shock. Hyewon’s voice is mesmerizing, you should have noticed it when she spoke to you or at least when she moaned, but only now you see the full beauty of it. It’s befitting of her, and you will enjoy every second of it. She carries this song gracefully, giving it a special touch that will keep the listeners yearning for a studio version, which would be an efficient side hustle for her.

Wait, what if Hyewon becomes a musician, with songs on the radio and the first glimmers of fame? What if she is already quite popular, an underground artist on the rise, from covering songs to writing her own? What if there is a whole story happening in her life that you missed entirely, just because you stuck to your whore-wife and mind-numbing job? This fear of having missed out on something this big and beautiful, maybe even life itself, shakes your heart with a strong aching, until—

Another voice. The first verse, the pre-chorus, the build-up, it all leads to another voice coming in with unbridled power and passion. It cannot be contained in the way it booms through the speakers and puts goosebumps on every single person in this room. You’re included in this list, but when you recognize the voice and see the woman step out on stage, those goosebumps turn to a full-on rush of nostalgic emotions. 

Back then, her singing was the catalyst for an unforgettable night. Unexpectedly wild, a lot of fun, but the stinging arrow of envy made things bitter-sweet for you. Watching the two of them be so close, intimate and loving had you yearning for more than just enraged sex. You wanted this too, and there was a time where Eunbi provided it. But the veil has been lifted. There is no love, just despair.

Yuri.

It’s certainly a touching thing, seeing that Hyewon and Yuri are still close friends, connected through the language of music. Apparently they were always here, right in this inconspicuous bar, pulling the stress out of people with nothing but their voices, which combine at the end of the second verse and rush ahead into the chorus. It’s an invasion of your ears, low and high, soft and powerful, caring and overwhelming. 

This performance is greatness, the best of what humanity has to offer—and you feel like the embodiment of an embittered, wasted life.

#

Yuri hits the final note with such perfection that the first few people have already jumped up from their seats and cheered without holding back. Thunderous applause is an understatement to how hard everyone claps their hands or stomps the ground. They’re shaking the entire bar, which has the bartender holding onto some of the bottles with a worried smile. You on the other hand are glued to your seat in deep regret. Not enough to make you cry, but enough to keep you from giving the two angels what they deserve. 

Take a look at your wine. It has been untouched in your glass for a while now and it’d be a waste to throw it away just because you’re facing the cold, harsh truth again. What even is true at this point? Not the stuff you promise your customers and certainly not your relationship. Fuck it, take a large sip.

“They are awesome,” the bartender gasps. “They should finally do this professionally, this stage is too small for them.”

“Yeah,” you answer with a weak smile. “Imagine an entire stadium full of people being this ecstatic. The world would hear it.”

“Well, I tried my best convincing them,” he says and looks right next to you with a sly grin. “Maybe you have more success than I did.”

Time freezes when you feel the familiar busty body around your own. You did not see Hyewon launching herself at you, don't realize what's happening until she starts talking.

"Oh my God, it has been so long! Wait, is it really you?"

"Hyewon, I, uhm, yeah. I'm me."

"It's so crazy to see you again! How are you, how is life?"

"Well, it's—"

Hyewon squeezes your body tighter. She pouts when you look down at her until you finally get it. Return the embrace and Hyewon squeals in happiness.

"You don't have to say anything," she coos softly. "I'm just happy to see you again."

"Likewise," you respond with a sigh.

You could stand around like this for eternity. Hyewon's deep breaths and her steadily decreasing heart rate start to heal you from within. The pain and suffering caused by Eunbi's constant cheating, it doesn't matter right now. You deserve a break from the mess that is your life—you feel like you can celebrate your promotion for real now.

"Hyewon, I—no, you. You were wonderful on stage. Your singing, it blew me away."

As you gush about her performance, Hyewon blushes and disconnects the hug. You notice that she has this heavenly aura around her, like she is spraying sparks of love and happiness that try to ignite everyone around her. No wonder that she had this excellent stage presence during her duet.

"Thank you so much—

"Oh, babe~ I'm here~"

You jump at Hyewon's sudden call, which is not directed at you of course. Before your eyes can search for the person Hyewon just called babe, they have already arrived. Delicate fingers entwined with Hyewon's, they both go for a quick peck on the lips.

"Yu-Yuri?" 

Your shriek makes the duo—the couple?—look at you with wide eyes, glossy and full of love for life—for each other? There is still too much to process for your brain, it can't handle another input. 

"Hey, is everything alright?" Yuri asks with concern in her voice and a caring hand on your elbow.

"Ye-yeah, ju-just not up to date at all. Are you two like… a thing?"

Hyewon has this bright smile on her face. She wraps an arm around Yuri's hip and the younger girl leans her head on her collarbone. Yuri raises a hand up to your face. There is a simple silver ring on it, and you see her eyes scintillate when she shows you it.

"We married two months ago," Hyewon giggles. "So much has happened since we met last time. I can’t really sum it up."

"Don't feel forced to explain yourself," you respond with an awkward laugh. "We had a short stint a while back, I only saw you falling for each other—

beyond that, our lives have happened far apart. But not going to lie, I'd love to hear your story if you're down for it."

Hyewon and Yuri share a glance and then start to laugh for seemingly no reason. It turns into a full fit that suddenly has you in a tight, three way hug. 

"We'd love to," Yuri says when she catches her breath again. "After all, you somewhat got us together. I told Hye that we should try to invite you to the marriage."

"Nah, it's good. How about I pay for the first round of drinks because of your amazing performance and then for the second round 'cuz I got a big promotion today."

"What if I want a third round though?" Hyewon asks jokingly.

"Babe, you can never handle three rounds," Yuri responds with sass and pulls the two of you to a nearby table.

"Looks like you just qualified yourself to pay for the third round then, Yuri."

#

"Like I said," Yuri babbles, her pitch high as the love story reaches its conclusion. "Hye was so scared to tell her father, but I had already bought the rings and planned the dresses, the cake—her mom was literally involved in everything—so on a Saturday night I poured her a third tequila shot—look how done she is after only two!"

Yuri points at her wife, whose head rests on her shoulder with heavy eyes and a rosy hue on her cheeks. Hyewon is in a drunk-dazed heaven, smiling stupidly, while trying to disagree with sounds that almost sound like words.

"Anyways, she was loose and so I dragged her over, we told him and—it was a stressful minute, I tell you that—after a minute he hugged us wordlessly. We kinda had no idea what it meant but during the wedding he looked happy, at peace basically."

"Okay, wow that is—"

Even your tenth reaction to Hyewon and Yuri's story, from threesome over dating to coming out to marriage, is cut short, this time by Hyewon groaning out a functioning sentence from her lip stick and alcohol covered lips.

"Babe, you, you forgot the part where, when you had to quit your job then."

"Oh, I'd love to hear about that too!" you quickly add, reminiscing about their amazing vocal performance. "Why did you decide to only sing for a living?"

Yuri puts on a sad smile as she strokes Hyewon's hair. Her gaze rests upon her empty glass, her orbs turn glassy for a moment then she shakes her head as if to shrug off what's bothering her.

"That's just about, you know, my former job. When I quit because we wanted to focus on music, some were angry because they thought I abandoned the team for childish dreams while others were… not so supportive of us. Ah, just forget it, it's fine."

"Sorry you had to go through it and sorry for bringing it up," you quickly apologize.

"Jeez, I said it's fine, don—"

"Let me make it up to you with a third round and the promise to meet the two of you here again."

Raise your hand to call the waiter while Yuri searches for something in Hyewon's pocket, but the older keeps nuzzling closer and closer as she dozes off. When the drinks arrive, Yuri slips you a phone.

"Put in your numbern" she whispers. "I bet she'll want to hear more from you too."

"Thank you. I assume you don't want to hear from me then?" you chuckle.

"That's right!" Yuri shouts and lifts her glass on high, so the entire bar can hear her. "I'm only here for the drinks. Cheers!"

#

Even the greatest party needs to come to an end at some point. 3am is when you pay for the drinks and call a cab. You barely find your way up the drive way into your house, which is not that bad, because now you don’t need to go sleep in the same bed as Eunbi and instead have the couch for you alone. It has never been so cozy.

Speaking of Eunbi, her acting is almost great. She apparently was so worried about you last night, and all the other nights the last couple of months. Now she found you on the couch, an obvious hangover by the way you scrunch your forehead. She puts her hand on your shoulder, rubbing it in circles, playing the worried wife like it’s in her script. 

“No, this looks wrong, I swear,” you try to laugh it off but Eunbi is just getting closer. God, you can smell all the other people on her. It’s like she showered in a dozen different men’s perfume and deodorant just to taunt you. Ignore the mocking, you’re above this. 

“Then what is it supposed to look like, babe?” Eunbi asks, her eyes wide and shimmering. “I’m willing to believe you, but you have to tell me why you got so wasted.”

“Well, I…” 

It’s best to mix the lie with some truth to the point where you might believe it yourself.

“I, surprisingly, got a great promotion, and we went out partying for a long ti—”

“Oh my God, babe, that’s awesome!”

Out of nowhere, Eunbi casts aside all her concern and launches herself atop of you. You immediately tense up. Feeling the incredible curves of her body has never felt so wrong, so traumatic. Groan and put a palm to your temple to signal her your distress, but she continues to bounce on your lap. 

“All your heart work paid off, I’m so proud!” she shouts gleefully, her arms tight around your throat in what looks like a loving embrace but feels a lot more like someone strangling you. “I almost thought you were out there getting addicted to whiskey every night.”

And you are addicted to men, Eunbi.

Addicted to sex, to being unloyal, to being creamed by other men.

You are the addict, you heartbreaking bitch.

But the words don’t come out. They run circles in your head while Eunbi’s clothed entrance rubs circles over your not-growing, not-aroused dick. You’re not going to surrender to her fuckable body, instead gently pushing her sides and groaning unduly. 

“Yeah, no, this was a one time thing. I should sober up, my head fucking hurts.”

“Should I get you some water and painkillers?” Eunbi asks and gets off of your lap to jog to the kitchen.

“Yes, please—”

—and then get out of my life.

#

The following months brought some drastic changes. Not only is your work harder, it’s also not optional anymore. You started to put up better numbers because of your overtime work, which was due to Eunbi. Now, you can’t escape it anymore. Working from 6am to 10pm is normal, hell, on some days you wish you could sleep three hours. 

But everytime you look at your new bank account—can’t let Eunbi have all the access—it all seems worth it. The pay is ungodly, you have way too much money. Even after taxes and buying two new cars to not look ‘broke’ next to all the other board members, you still have no clue what to do with all of it. Two or three more years, and you could retire wealthy beyond belief. Begs the question why these people usually don’t and continue working.

Another change to your life comes through Hyewon and Yuri. By themselves, they installed a new social life in your life. At least two times per month, the three of you meet up in a bar. You get to know new people, entirely different from you, but also basically the same. Everyone is tired from work, so it’s time to drink and party. You almost forgot how good it feels to have a variety of friends—from those that are perfect for loose parties to those that deeply care about you. 

Hyewon is the best of those friends. Nothing about your brief yet intense past seems to stick on her. She is chill around you, goofy and not at all awkward. Yuri is quite similar, though a bit more extravagant and flamboyant, which makes them the absolute gay-power couple. They just click, it’s perfect, young love. 

“Reminds me of myself.” Your lips betray you.

“What?” Hyewon shouts back, over the obnoxiously loud bass of the rock band on stage.

“Ah, nothing. Just a little envious~” you respond with fake annoyance and raise your glass for a toast. Hyewon hesitates, very out of character.

“Nah, I’m not toasting your glass before you tell me what you mean,” Hyewon says and stares into your soul with her drunk, teary eyes. Maybe she is not that drunk? Maybe you can finally open up about it?

“Really, it’s nothing.”

“Nuh-uh, tell me outside.”

And with that, Hyewon walks out the front door, you in tow as your tie becomes completely undone and your shirt is a mess. Outside you do not find privacy, just a lot of strangers talking, laughing, smoking. This time you pull Hyewon further down the street next to your parked Porsche, where it’s less likely for someone to hear you.

“Now you gotta… tell me,” Hyewon babbles.

“You are drunk, you’re not gonna remember it anyways.”

“Nuh-uh,” she says again, hitting your chest with her long, painted nails. “You need to spill it now, I’ll remember. Like I remember you only asking about me and Yuri and never talking about yourself.”

She’s spot on. You never wanted to talk about it. Eunbi’s name is pain, you don’t need to make the newfound pleasure and joy in your life go away because of her. This cheating whore—she should just go away at this point.

“You remember why we met?” you carefully ask Hyewon, testing if she is capable of understanding even though she is under heavy influence.

“Yes, your girl cheated on you.”

“Guess what: I married that girl.”

“Oh,” Hyewon says and after some delay smiles brightly. “So you talked it out and things got better? That’s why you didn’t come back, right?”

“Let’s just say that,” you gulp and your hands form fists. “Some people don’t change.”

“Fuck,” Hyewon’s pointy heels hit the sidewalk hard. “I’m sorry about that. Was it a bad divorce?”

“Huh? She still lives with you? In the same house? You share the same bed?”

“I—I did not divorce her.”

“I-I did not say that!”

“But it’s true!” Hyewon steps closer and grabs your collar. “I can see it in your eyes, you can’t let go. You hate her, but you can’t throw her away, although she deserves it.”

You want to grab Hyewon’s wrist, push her to the side and run away shouting words of denial that you are stronger than this, that she is wrong, that she doesn’t get it. However, Hyewon doesn’t deserve it—even worse, she is absolutely right.

“Yes,” you whisper.

“Yes,” she whispers and lets go. The two of you lean onto the Porsche in silence, watching customers of the bar pass by without worries, without hate, without defeat. The liquor has done wonders, turning a negative week positive. The same can’t be said about you. You feel exposed, utterly defeated by Hyewon’s words. 

“Fuck you,” you groan, face hidden in hands. “Fuck you for being right, Hyewon.”

“Sorry, but you had to hear it,” she responds and pats your back. “You need to tear her out of your life, like a terribly written chapter in a book or like awful lyrics that you wrote while high on midnight wine and sex.

“You get me?”

“I think.”

“Good.”

The world might not be good at this moment, yet Hyewon’s reassurance, her slow pats on your shoulder, her strong posture in her stunning red dress and the loving, tipsy smile on her beaming face are enough to show you the light of a better world.

“What about you?” you suddenly ask, wiping away tears you did not weep. “Something you’re hiding or keeping down?”

Hyewon looks away, her smile filling with a hint of agony, though nothing of her stunning beauty fades.

“You got me there. It’s something that’s been bugging me for maybe half a year. I know I shouldn’t but—I can’t get away from the thought, you know?”

“I would know if you would tell me,” you say playfully. Now it’s your turn to massage her shoulder, give reassurance, though you don’t know if you have any.

“It’s just that I—

“I want to have a child—my child. I love Yuri more than anything, I will never regret choosing her and only her, but this longing… it does not go away.”

“And adopting is not an option? S-sorry if that was insensitive…”

“No, it’s fine. I just want to be pregnant and raise my child together with her. You know what, forget that. It has to remain a dream.”

Suddenly, a friend of both you and Hyewon sprints out of the bar and looks around in dramatic panic until he finds the two of you. He takes leaps towards you, almost lands face first on the concrete before catching his small frame and coming to a halt.

“Hyewon,” he gasps out in between huffs and puffs. “Yuri is—she is so full, completely—you know?”

“That girl,” Hyewon sighs.

#

You return home on the same night. Your chat with Hyewon sucked out all the power the liquor usually has over you. It means that you are able to think about her words and take her seriously, but you’ll also have to live with Eunbi laying next to you, smelling like foreign sweat and cum again. You could choose the couch, but you haven’t gotten around to having it replaced with a couch where it’s better to sleep on. 

The moment you open the main door, you hear screams coming from the bedroom. Deja Vu, not the subtle kind, more like a fucking train running you over. You still remember the one time she did it almost two years ago where you caught her. This is basically the same. The same sounds, the same gut wrenching punch to your gut, hell, even the groans by the guy sound the same—

Could it be?

Eunbi, in her brand new bikini, rides the same fucking guy from back then while he has his disgusting, greedy hands all over her skin, spanking it and making her scream even louder. 

Like a silent assassin, you sneak towards the slightly ajar bedroom door. Dimmed lights illuminate the room which is filled by the smell of sex and the repetitive sounds of skin on skin. You take out your phone and use it as a mirror to catch a glimpse of what’s happening.

“You like that, you whore?” he growls at her, smiling stupidly dazed.

“Yes, oh God! Hit my tits!”

“I swear to God, your husband must be such a faggot for not immediately fucking you in that outfit. You look like a fucking breeding cow!”

“Yes, I’m cumming!”

“He can’t make you cum!”

The guy squeezes, then twists Eunbi’s breasts as she trembles, screams and squirts to an absolutely ridiculous level, one that even pornography can ot reach. She lets herself fall forward and the guy finishes inside her after a couple of thrusts. His rancid cum leaks out from every corner of Eunbi’s loose pussy. 

You almost throw up. You hurry towards the front door and hide in the back of your car. There is rage, embarrassment, pain—you can’t confront her, hell, you can’t even confront him when he leaves the house like a king, the sun slowly rising in the background. 

Your mind is empty, empty to the point it’s completely clear. You wait for Eunbi to fall asleep, then collect all the camera’s you have installed and throw them in a public trash bin. Afterwards, you clean up the house, dusting off as quietly as possible while also collecting dirty clothes to wash them (there is fucking leftover cum on some of her clothes and towels).

Lastly, you lay down next to her for a second and check if she has cleaned herself properly. 

This fucking whore, I—

“Honey, sorry for not making it last night,” you shout, pretending to come home at 5am. Eunbi shrieks and shoots up, still dressed in the brown bikini, still cum oozing from her cunt. She tries to hide herself underneath a blanket.

“Ba-babe, tha-that’s totally fine,” she responds nervously, looking very puzzled because of your tired yet bright smile.

“I saw you cleaned the house, it looks wonderful!” you compliment her.

“I, uhm.”

“Hey, even the washing machine is running—and did you bring out the trash already?”

“Well, I—”

“God, you look so hot in that bikini,” you lean down to her and cup her bountiful breasts. “I could devour you right now. Did you really wear it just for me?”

“I—

Eunbi hesitates, turns away for a second to look out of the window. She is thinking about it, clearly. This is where her final redemption can start, the way to salvation is to reveal all of her sin, the only way she can come back is to…

“I’m glad you noticed, babe,” she says with the fakest of smiles. “And yes, I would only wear this for you. B-but I’m not feeling it right now, you understand?”

You nod.

“I love you, Eunbi.”

You lying devil.

#

How did you end up here?

“Are you sure about this, Yuri?”

“Yes, do you really want this, babe?”

Yuri folds her arms and raises both her eyebrows.

“How many times do I have to tell you? Yes, I want this!”

With all doubts seemingly out of the way, the three of you make your way to the bedroom. Hyewon’s and Yuri’s apartment is small, but very cozy, the perfect place to live a relaxed, problem free life. 

But they decided to get you involved. You’re a problem here. Sure, you might have helped at starting their relationship in the first place, but now you’re here for chaos. 

Hyewon sinks onto the sheets first, Yuri’s fingers entangled with hers. Your fingers find the hem of Hyewon’s short dress. The angelic garment feels incredible, pure even in your hand and so you only hike it up with care, deeply in awe of what you’re about to see.

Meanwhile, Hyewon is a lot less pedantic and awestruck. She yanks Yuri closer, shortly fiddles with the button of her jeans and then quickly starts to undress her wife. The denim is quickly gone and before Hyewon can attack the white lace panties, Yuri shoves her lover's face into them. 

“Use your precious tongue, honey~”

Oops, you almost started to stare for too long. Better continue your hike up Hyewon’s beautiful, bountiful legs to her holy sanctuary, covered by the same lace she so greedily licks and nibbles on. Your digits hook into the white fabric and slowly pull it down, making Hyewon melt further into Yuri’s pussy. 

“You’re getting so excited, huh~?” Yuri teases and pats Hyewon’s head. The older girl nods while you start to fold her dress to finally see her wet, shaven cunt. You can smell the excitement, the arousal, the anticipation of what is about to happen to her. Now you consider yourself lucky to not have slept with anyone, which potentially avoided any and all STDs. 

It lets you create trouble.

#

How did you end up here?

It’s two days after Hyewon officially asked you to impregnate her. Tomorrow she will ask her wife in what you can only imagine will be the most stressful talk in her entire life. Today however, is not tomorrow. Today is the day you got your STD test back. Hyewon wanted you to take it for if things go her way and Yuri actually agrees to this chaotic proposal.

To no surprise, the results are negative. After all, you haven’t touched Eunbi in forever and by the way she lets seemingly everyone cum inside her, you wouldn’t be surprised if she caught anything. In the end, that was not enough however. You needed to make sure.

A bottle of champagne, neatly placed on the living room table. You put some decorations around it. Eunbi will appear here any minute, you told her you have a surprise waiting, something that will make her speechless, breathless even. 

“Hey, honey,” Eunbi announces her return, grocery bags in hands. “What is it you wanted to tell me?”

“Eunbi, I—the reason why I even took a day off is—nah, come on over! Let’s raise a glass first, shall we!”

The glasses are already filled, well prepared. Eunbi seems utterly perplexed. “Champagne in the middle of the day? Honey, what are you planning~?”

Trouble, bitch.

#

“Oh, yes, eat me, Hye, eat me.”

Yuri has started to tear off her t-shirt, the top underneath as well, to sit on Hyewon’s face completely naked. You on the other hand have only fished out your hard cock, which the incredible display of passion and erotic has surely made harder than ever. The straps of Hyewon’s dress have also started to fall down her shoulders. Finally, the chaos is coming together.

“The two of you are so hot,” you compliment and lean towards them. 

“I know,” Yuri responds in between moans and grinds her soaking pussy more and more on Hyewon’s mouth. “Your mouth is so pretty, so go-good.”

“Hyewon, are you ready?” you ask the woman below you, her nipples peeking out from her dress, her legs spread wide and invitingly and her pussy twitching when you rub up and down her labia. 

Hyewon finds her way out from in between Yuri’s thighs and rests her head back against her lover’s tight stomach. Deep breaths and eyes of absolute need signal you that yes, she is more than ready. The same goes for Yuri, who is on the one hand very fixated on rubbing and drooling all over Hyewon’s collarbone, while her eyes are focused on your cock.

“Watch him closely,” Yuri whispers. “He is going to give you our child.”

With that, you push inside of Hyewon’s awaiting pussy.

#

“What are we celebrating? Did you get another promotion?”

Eunbi looks genuinely curious. Strange, she hasn’t asked about your work at any previous point in time, unless it was about when you would be home. Keep the sarcasm to yourself, you don't want to spoil the actual surprise.

"Oh, sweety," you laugh with full bass. "No more promotions needed, we are set for life. Which is why I bought a new house!"

"No, you didn't!" Eunbi shouts and almost drops the glass.

"Careful, careful, don't spill it."

"Oh my God, you are crazy. Where is this house? Still in Korea or…"

You raise your glass towards her and smirk.

"I'll only tell you if you would do me the honor."

Eunbi reciprocates the smirk.

"Of course, darling."

The two of you set the glasses to your lips. Your eyes are wide open, your heart beats in an uncontrollable flurry as you watch Eunbi down the champagne quickly, almost in one go. You're quick to follow, while a new wind of fresh air fills your nostrils.

This should not feel this good.

#

"Ah!"

Hyewon screeches when you pierce her tight pussy open. She clings onto her wife's thighs, gripping them tightly while blurting her initial, high-pitched moans straight into the pussy above her.

"You take it so well, baby," Yuri groans and rubs Hyewon's breasts with the sweaty palms of her hands. "Squeeze him dry."

Place both hands on Hyewon’s hips and begin to slowly pump into the woman, your cock stretching her walls, filling her whole. When Yuri suddenly starts to play with the small, hidden clit above the entrance, Hyewon becomes noticebly wetter, to the point where you hear the wet sounds of her arousal. It spreads around her crotch, your crotch, her legs, your legs, the bed’s legs, until everything is a glorious mess.

“Oh, I can feel him inside you, baby,” Yuri husks as her hand roams Hyewon’s abdomen. She has gotten off her lover's face and is now gazing at it, her eyes lustful, demanding for Hyewon to be bred. “Soon, I’ll feel something else knock from inside.”

“Yu-Yuri, I’m getting close!” Hyewon screeches, her fingers wrapping around your wrists as you grip her pale body tighter and tighter as she gets tighter and tighter. “I’m about to—”

“Don’t hold back,” Yuri demands and her hand slips down to Hyewon’s clit again and rubs furiously. “I want to see you cum, cum as you finally receive this gift.”

Well, there goes the last shadow of a doubt that Yuri might have something against this crazy idea. Turns out she is even more insane than you or Hyewon. She gets off on you pounding, dominating her wife and she does the same, finally choking Hyewon’s throat gently while bringing her to a loud, splashing orgasm. From the corner of her eye, you see her urging you to not cum yet. 

If she just knew how hard this is with Hyewon wringing all over your lubricated, diamond-like cock. Her pussy sucks you in, takes your breath away, yet you are able to make Yuri’s wish come true. Just close your eyes and imagine something normal is happening, a walk in the park, a nice summer breeze, the beautiful green of the leaves—

“You are so hot, baby, eat me~”

Yuri climbs on top of Hyewon’s face again, her subtle ass turned towards you as she slams her pussy on Hyewon’s panting mouth and rubs herself all over the most flushed, most perfect features to ever graze the earth. Hyewon is barely able to stick out her tongue to tickle Yuri’s clit and it’s so endearing, you just have to make it more difficult for her.

Fold Hyewon. It's as easy as folding a piece of paper. Hyewon’s feet dangle in the air, her toes curl frantically, trying to reach the ceiling to find grip, but she is helpless. At first she lost control over her body due to the mind-blowing orgasm, now it’s because Yuri and you use her as you please. Hyewon is a tool for pleasure and she couldn’t feel more pleasure.

“Your tongue, baby, put it in—ah!” Yuri’s climax was predictable. Her small frame trembles throughout, her adorable butt is right in front of you. You take a risk and fold Hyewon further, your lips now right on Yuri’s cheek. Your lick right across it. “N-not you! B-but don’t stop now!”

So you continue. Your tongue travels all over Yuri’s cheeks, an adventure almost as good as the adventure your cock takes inside Hyewon, exploring every single place inside her scorching cunt. You eventually end up in Yuri’s butt, twirling your tongue, getting her addictive taste on your tastebuds. Sadly, you’re unable to go all out on Hyewon in the meantime, so she scrapes your shoulders, probably feeling neglected. When you look down however, she opens her mouth wide and begs in the most adorable, lewd voice:

“Share?”

You drool right into the awaiting Hyewon, transferring the taste of her wife’s asshole, but it’s not enough, you need to dive into her lips and force her tongue around in her mouth. There is no other option, you need to melt into Hyewon to give her the perfect child, a child conceived under the most ridiculous, feverish and unexplainable circumstances possible.

Yuri’s nails dig in your neck.

“Enough fun. Give her your fucking cum!”

Open your eyes a final time to find Hyewon, fucked silly, sweat, tears, girl cum all over her face and hair, eyes barely open, mouth barely closed—why is she more perfect, the messier she gets? You thrust deeply a couple of times and with a final sprint, you finish the race, with Hyewon bred and Yuri rubbing her clit in a daze. 

“Don’t pull out yet,” she babbles. “I need to—fuck—I need to get the plug first.”

#

“It needs to look like champagne, untraceable, no weird smells or anything.

“Yes, I know that that is fucking elaborate and costly, I don’t care.

“Do you want to be on the board or not? I thought so.

“We have a deal then.

“Hm? No, her death does not need to be quick.”

Infact, I want it to be as long and painful as possible.

# 20 years later #

You open the window and watch the wind splash water against the shore of Malta. This view alone is worth thirty million euros apparently—you’re inclined to agree. The blue of the ocean meets the white stones, it’s a perfect match. No matter how rough the wind comes and goes, no matter how high the sea levels may rise, these two will never betray each other.

A knock on your front door. The way she knocks is unmistakable. Ever since moving to this long forgotten, barely reachable island, you have never felt the need to hurry about anything. It’s all calm and quiet out here—you’d need to go back to Korea for your life to be busy again. But if you’d go back again, your need to see her would be too big.

You couldn’t do that to her mothers.

“Hello, dear Godfather,” the beautiful girl says with a smile and playfully bows her head.

“Hello, dear Godchild,” you return the smile and the bow. “Didn’t your mother teach you how to properly bow?”

“Which one?” she asks, not able to contain her laughter. “The one that sings or the one that sings?”

“It’s nice to see you again, Minju.”

I missed you, my daughter.

(A/N: I hope you all had a happy june/Pride month!)

[marigold-hills]

Dunes & Waters, part 7

PART 1 • PREVIOUS PART • NEXT PART

“What happened to your hand?”

Again, Black is already in the kitchen, smoking and hanging out of a window, when Remus wakes up.

“Paper cut.”

“You bandaged yourself up like that for a paper cut?”

“I’m prone to infections.”

“Merlin,” Black definitely doesn’t believe the excuse, but that’s the point really. Say something so stupidly improbable and the question of what happened to him becomes second to why won’t he tell me.

People are fickle creatures like that, Remus knows. Selfish even in their concern. He’s not blaming Black for it – they don’t know each other; he’s got no reason to be worried for Remus. Especially not with the way their interactions have been going. It’s a dually convenient thing for Remus: he has no desire to get close to Black, or to be gotten close to. And lack of interest means lack of questions when he has to disappear for a couple nights.

Black finishes his smoke, putts it out. The silver ring on his finger reflects the morning light as he lights another.

“Why didn’t you get your own cigarettes yesterday?”

“I don’t smoke,” Black replies, taking a deep drag and flicking ash out of the window.

“Evidently.”

“Well… only sometimes. Socially.”

There are four butts in the makeshift ashtray by Black’s knee.

“The people keeping you company, they still here with us?”

“The cat is out there again.”

Remus sticks on the kettle, adding in enough water for two cups. To save himself having to repeat the process. “You’re smoking with the cat?”

“Better conversationalist then some people.”

Remus doesn’t raise to the bait. It’s nothing he’s not heard before. Get to the point and why are you telling me about this and look, I’ll listen later but I’m really way too tired now, alright?

The kettle boils, the tea brews. Two mugs, two sachets of Assam. Two sugars and milk for him, black for Black (Remus snickers to himself). An almost perfect builders’ brew. As each morning, Remus takes a moment to miss the box of Yorkshire teabags he’s got in his office back in London.

The crossword has been butchered again. “This isn’t even close to being correct,” he waves it in Black’s direction, “if you want to have a go you could just ask the reception to send up an extra paper.”

Black takes his tea and his spot at the table. “That thing makes no sense.” There is a defensiveness in his posture, an undercurrent of something ready to explode. It’s evident he’s not used to being wrong footed.

“Sure, it does,” Remus dismisses, “you just don’t understand it.”

One raised eyebrow, eyes thinning. There’s that same bit of anger – diminished and contained – that he brought at the market. Remus is sensitive to changing tides, a part of the moon always with him, and Black is like the sea. He can smell it on him, the way his magic builds up and crackles about the fingertips.

Black, however? Doesn’t seem to notice.

NEXT PART

@tealeavesandtrash

@moon-girl88

@hoje--aqui

@cocoabutterandbooks

@onion-sliced-apples

@prancingpony42

@digital-kam

@remoonysiriusly

@sweetstarryskies

@a-sunset-outside-my-window

(let me know if you do/don’t want to be tagged!)

[the-ace-with-spades]

little snippet from a buddie outsider pov future fic that i probably won't ever finish because its part 3 of a series, or aka the Bobby-fication of Buck

"I was told to report to Captain Diaz?"

The man, with Diaz clearly written on his name tag, stares. It's not the most friendly of stares but it's not that kind of a stare and Kori had his fair share of them as a brown boy who consistently used public transport and worked night shifts. He'd expected to have a welcome that wasn't the warmest but he at least wanted some kind of verbal acknowledgment. 

Well, this is awkward, he thinks, why is he not saying anything?

Kori woke up bright and early today, excited and anxious for his first day, over an hour before his alarm started blasting, and then made sure he had his bag packed with all the essentials he would need on a twenty-four shift. Four different sets of clothes, five meals in Tupperware, protein bars, a book, headphones, towel, shampoo and shower gel, the basic firefighting manual from the academy and his paramedic textbooks. He prepared to be too prepared rather than embarrass himself by asking to borrow shampoo on his first day.

He arrived at the firehouse via Uber because public transport in LA couldn't be reliable and he also couldn't afford a car and then he had stood panicked on the side of the truck bay for about fifteen minutes before checking his email again for the right names — Captain Diaz, 118 Ladder Company — all along to the schedule in his head.

And now the guy, he's just—standing there. Staring at Kori like he's debating whether he should eat him alive or roast in the oven beforehand.

The thing is, Kori knows he’s disappointing for a firefighter. He’s barely five foot seven, five foot six without the boots, really, and he’s lean and slim, in a way that would make some people doubt whether he can carry a person out of a burning building — he can — and he’s, well, he’s average.

But the One-Eighteen is stuck with him for the year, he might be average and disappointing, it just doesn’t matter. Because they are stuck with him.

He still hasn’t seen Firefighter Buckley.

"Are you Captain Diaz?"

He looks a bit young, for a captain, but he is pretty sure there have been younger ones in the history of LAFD. And Diaz is a common surname, in California, or common enough that it wouldn’t be impossible to have two people with it in the firehouse even if still a bit improbable.

"Oh," he says, looking down at the nametag on his chest, finally noticing where Kori's been glancing at the whole time. "Sorry, kid, that would be my husband. I'm Lieutenant Paramedic Diaz."

Kori, he must admit to himself, blinks at him like he had just spoken in Mandarin and not English. Because there are two Diazes in the firehouse. And both of them are his officers. And they’re married.

The—The lieutenant crosses his arms over his chest, puffing up like a peacock, and narrows his eyes. “Do we have a problem?”

“No, sir,” he says, immediately. “I didn’t know they allowed married couples to work together, that’s all.”

The lieutenant still looks at him like he's trying to assess the deepest secrets of his soul and raises one eyebrow at him like he expects a fight but his shoulders fall slightly. He's, uhm, very handsome, even this angry, in that foxy dad kind of way that Kori's never been interested in but knew it was a thing.

"My husband and I worked together for seven years before we married, I think we've proved we can stay professional," he says and it sounds a bit like a threat. "He's in the office downstairs. You should report to him before you're late to your first shift."

He smiles but Kori has a feeling it's a mean smile.

Kori does go back downstairs, passes the rest of the loft and walks past the kitchen where he sees three other firefighters, quietly eating breakfast. The conversation stops and they all collectively look up at him. He probably should say something or wave or anything so it's not awkward but no, he just speed-walks into the narrow corridor that — he hopes — leads to the offices.

He passes two doors before he finds the right one. There is a brand new plate hanging on the side of it, shiny and not dusty at all, with Capt. Diaz and Lt. Diaz written on it and the door is wide open — someone is in the closet in the back, from what it seems, going over documents or something that makes a similar rustling sound. Kori moves into the doorframe, going for a knock, when he realizes.

There's no door. Nothing, just an empty door frame with taped down hinges. There's no way for him to knock.

He clears his throat as loudly as he can.

There are two desks inside, one with a brand new plate of Capt. Diaz and one with slightly less shiny Lt Diaz on it. It looks like any other office, slightly bare on the shelves but also full of diplomas and official pictures of past officers hanging on the walls. There's also a framed drawing made by an elementary school kid, or Kori guessed it was an elementary school kid, of a firefighter in bunker gear, dead center on the wall behind the captain's desk, and a couple of photos of what he assumes is the station's crew, all in their dress uniforms — he can't see it very well.

The captain's desk is full, with another frame standing on the edge, three pencil holders filled to the brim, multiple kinds of colorful stationery, and stacks of documents and folders cluttering the countertop. There's even a freaking fidget spinner on it — he hasn't seen one since freshman year in high school. It's a mess but Kori knows that even being a probationary firefighter would mean way too much paperwork for a job that was technically blue collar. The new captain wasn't just a new captain, he was also newly-qualified to be a captain so Kori suspects he probably is barely keeping up with the forms and documents as of right now — it's a learning curve.

The lieutenant's desk also holds a couple of frames but there's only a small pencil case and a neatly arranged stack of folders lying in an even more neatly arranged corner.

And wow. That's Firefighter Buckley, even more awe-inspiring than he was eleven years ago

He looks at Kori with a half-smile stuck on his face but with a frown on his forehead. There are wrinkles around his eyes, forming like laughter lines. He tilts his head and Kori thinks—Kori thinks this is it, he remembers me, he—

"Khorshed Patwari, was it?" he asks and his grin looks the same, almost — there’s more wrinkles, around his eyes and on his forehead, and his face seems a bit softer, but it’s like a memory refresher. "Am I pronouncing it right?"

It's stupid — Firefighter Buckley saved probably hundreds if not thousands of people, he's been a firefighter for at least twelve years, probably, and Kori is just one of those faces he had seen for a minute or two. Easily forgotten. Average. It's understandable that he doesn't remember him, he would probably be more surprised if he did remember him.

"Everyone calls me Kori," he says, after clearing his throat. He knows he’s gaping like a fish, a bit, but he can’t help it — Firefighter Buckly looks almost unchanged and he can’t believe he’s here.

"With the h?"

He blinks. "Sorry?"

"Do you keep the h in Kori?" he clarified, huffing a small chuckle out.  "I want to know how to spell it correctly in the future."

"Just Kori, uhm, K-O-R-I, is okay," he explains, still star-struck.

"Uhm," he says eloquently. "I'm looking for Captain Diaz? I was supposed to report to him?"

"That would be me," Firefighter Buckley says and—Oh. He’s a captain and he’s—he’s married to a man that’s the station's lieutenant. He's not really Firefighter Buckley anymore, is he? "Although most people just call me Buck, or Cap, if you really must."

[roscoehamiltons]

regarding my prev tag about a merc employee sending the email and my overall thoughts about lewis at mercedes and possible sabotage:

i think it’s very clear at this point that things behind the scenes at mercedes are messy, and that the relationship with lewis and mercedes has been fractured for a couple years now. it’s hard to believe that it has gotten this bad. if we were to go back to 2020 or even 2021 it would’ve been unthinkable that it would get to this point: that lewis would leave mercedes in the first place and go to another team rather than retire, that the possibility of the team sabotaging him is even being considered.

and i think we should consider it a possibility that there is sabotage happening at the team. and by that i don’t necessarily mean that the entirety of merc is actively plotting against lewis because there are thousands of people working there, some of whom have been there since the beginning of lewis’ tenure with them, and have a strong working relationship and even friendship with him. i don’t doubt that there are people at mercedes who still want the best for lewis in terms of results and life in general. however, the opposite can be true as well— there very well could be people in the team who do not like or care for lewis, and all it takes is one, two or a few people here and there to cause trouble.

it might sound illogical to sabotage lewis, but. just because it seems "illogical" doesn’t mean it’s impossible. people are not robot-computers that act rationally all the time, there are plenty of situations where people at mercedes have not acted logically in the past couple of years. it is illogical that merc wouldn't give lewis, their most successful driver, the most successful driver of all time, a 2+1 contract and an ambassadorship. it is illogical to replace lewis with an almost 18 year old who skipped an entire feeder series and can’t drive a road car yet. it is illogical for the marketing team to actively ignore lewis, their most popular driver, in their social media posts, for the admin to beef with lewis fans publicly on the official account. there have been many instances of illogical behaviour, and unthinkable things have happened in the past couple of years. why not one more illogical or unthinkable thing? there have been many instances where lewis has been treated unfairly by the team, and it could be a coincidence or incidental of course, but how many coincidences or incidents have to take place before it is not that anymore?

which brings me to the email. we do not know who sent it and what the intentions are with the email— it could be sent by someone who genuinely cares about lewis and his well-being, it could also be someone who wants to cause trouble for mercedes, and doesn’t care one bit about the consequences it will have on lewis. it might be a mercedes employee and it might not be. however, the fact that it has been sent out— by someone who knows something about the inner workings of f1 media— and is being investigated means that we cannot any longer ignore the murmurings of what is happening behind the scenes at mercedes.

for the record, im not saying for sure that there is sabotage happening. like i said, i believe there are still people at merc who still like and care for lewis. it could be just some people being bad at their jobs, and not anything more deliberate and sinister than that. we, as outsiders, don’t know and won’t ever know the full details of what’s happening and will happen at mercedes. sabotage is only one possibility out of many, but it is not as improbable as some people think.

[wantonlywindswept]

fox & rex ficbit

finally wrote some tcw! whoo.

tbh not entirely sure where this is headed (a lie: i know exactly where i want this to end up, and it is with alpha-17 storming coruscant in a fit of protective rage and also murder) and atm it’s just a lot of exposition ideas because...i still have no real solid feel for the characters?? so i’m kind of working through that.

it is exhausting. star wars fanon you are exhausting. why can my brain not just write with the tropes and be done with it

anyway basically rex and fox are alpha-17′s feral children/brothers/students/?? because all three of them are competent chaos gremlins. set vaguely after geonosis but before the GAR is actually properly structured, bc if star wars doesn’t know what its timeline is then why the hell should i

---

Growing up on Kamino, Rex and Fox had three things in common: a taste for the popularly-loathed blue carbohydrate cubes, an unstoppable compulsion to always be the best at anything they did, and the extremely dubious honor of being Alpha-17's favorites.

Fox was one of the earlier Command Class clones decanted, the eldest of a batch that boasted Wolffe, Gree, Bly, and Cody: possibly the strongest CC batch that Kamino would ever produce. He came out with a massive chip on his shoulder and left his tact in his tube, and made a sport of talking back to every single trainer in the Cuy'val Dar--which was why he once spent two weeks in Medical with broken ribs, a punctured lung, and Dred Priest's bootprints on his chest.

On the other hand, Rex came from a CT batch that was nearly flushed for genetic deviation, and of the original five, only he and Crys made it past cadet training. He clawed to the top of all his training modules fueled by fear and spite, and did everything by the book to avoid any kind of attention that might further mark him as defective: he kept his head down and his mouth shut, no matter what he actually thought about things.

Alpha's ARC training was good for the both of them, in the end: it taught Rex how to speak his mind, and it taught Fox how to shut the fuck up.

"15 - 5," Alpha announced cheerfully, leaning on his training staff without even the slightest indication of being tired. Fox, flat on his back at Alpha's feet, wheezed something that might have been a curse.

"I'm starting to think that those 5 were a fluke," Rex said blandly. 

Fox's next growl was definitely a curse, and he lifted trembling hands to sign something insulting and anatomically improbable in Rex's direction.

"Go on, stop whining into my mats," Alpha said, nudging Fox in the side with his foot. "It's time for me to beat the other little brat into the ground."

Rex watched, snickering, as Fox very clearly struggled to keep from offering Alpha a similar insult. 

It was good that he was finally developing a sense of self-preservation.

It was just the three of them left in the gym, long after most sane troopers retreated to lick their wounds and get some kind of rest before they did the same thing all over again tomorrow. Even Fox's certifiably unhinged batch had abandoned them after a couple hours of extra training; most of the CCs had been tagged for the ARC classes, but some were taking to it with a little more enthusiasm than others.

Fox peeled himself off the floor, using his staff as a crutch as he staggered to the deceptive safety outside of the training ring. He passed Rex along the way; his encouraging pat on the shoulder turned into more of an uncoordinated smack to the side of the head, which Rex magnanimously decided to forgive on account of knowing he'd probably need Fox's help standing up later. 

Alpha was brutal, and relentless, and more than a little bit of a dick, but he wasn't cruel. He pushed them hard, taught them everything he knew, and if sometimes Rex caught him looking at them like he was worried they'd vanish the moment they left his sight, well. 

The campaign on Geonosis had been a hell of a debut. They'd lost thousands of brothers, and now they were all on edge waiting for their official postings. There was no telling where they'd end up next. 

Fox would undoubtedly be deployed where the fighting was the heaviest; he came off Geonosis with a dossier of accolades and a near-spotless string of victories. The rest of his batch had done equally well--all save Cody, who'd been unwillingly left behind on Kamino with a grade three concussion and a broken orbital bone, courtesy of one of Isabet Reau's battle circles.

Rex was probably destined for something similar. He'd performed well enough that he was guaranteed an officer commission, and he'd been all but adopted into the Command class after taking control of a battalion that had lost their commanding officer. It would be an absolute waste to not send him to the front lines.

Once ARC training was over, once they got their assignments and shipped out, it was entirely possible this would be the last time that Alpha saw them both alive.

With that cheery thought in mind, Rex spun the staff in his hands, met Alpha's grim expression with a sharp nod, and launched himself into the ring.

(Later, after Alpha dumped them both in the showers and ordered them not to drown, Fox gave him so much shit for only managing to win three matches out of twenty. But he also hauled Rex into the closer barracks that he shared with his batch, shoved him into the empty bed, and immediately passed out on him, which was enough of a comfort that Rex figured he could put off his vengeance for later. 

Maybe in the morning.

Maybe after they came back from the war, and they could prove to Alpha that he hadn't just sent them off to die.)

[send-up-my-heart-to-you]

FINALLY, ive finished 25% of exile, the second book in the kotlc series. here are some thoughts i had :)

tags: @aylin-hijabi, @that-multi-fandom-hijabi, @tastetherainbow290, @nerdy-girl3791 (im tagging everyone who asked to be tagged in my notes for book one, but lmk if you wanna be tagged too / dont wanna be tagged anymore)

first off, why are second books in a series always the ones that take the most time / are harder to start? ig it could be that we've already established the worldbuilding n main characters, but its still that dragging stage between *where you already know mostly everything in the universe* and *where the climax builds up in anticipation of the "final battle" or the beginning of the third act, usually*. nothing to do w the book itself, just an observation

second off, alicorns are so much more important than being just "another species to save", im sure of it. theres wayyy too much of the council getting involved n talk abt how alicorns are sooo important. to anyone whos read percy jackson it kinda reminds me of the ophiortaurus (bessie) from sea of monsters, who seemed to be a recurring animal side character who turned out to have a lot of significance to the very universe they were in. im expecting smth similar, why else would everyone go to such lengths to ensure alicorns dont go extinct? or maybe im overthinking it lmao but what gives it away is the heckses literally tryna kidnap silveny-

speaking of the heckses, who the fuck tries to steal an alicorn. stinas parents are the whiniest bitches ive ever seen, and im a fifteen year old girl. like cmon ive seen some drama queens over the years, but those two- also, fucking stina. i mentioned before that i hope to see some character development w her, so shes not just the boring one-dimensional mean girl thats prevalent in literally every piece of media thats come out since mean girls w regina george. clearly not yet, tho, but im waiting on it (if it does not happen i will be majorly disappointed)

also, delving into theories now. its kinda far-fetched, but, was brant w the black swan ? i mean, it would add up pretty decently. it would explain why his guilt for jolies death runs so deeply (since grady rlly rlly seems to believe that the black swan killed her) because he would be with the literal organization that killed her. it would also explain reeeeaaaaalllllyyyy well why he recognized sophie. the fact that he knew her was wayy too emphasized to mean nothing. idk JUST A THEORY, its not based off of anything other than it would fit nicely w everything else.

but also if grady is so adamant that it was the black swan, and (hypothetically) brant is w the black swan, then would it be improbable to assume that he killed her? which would explain the guilt even MORE. but then again, he does seem to love her, so that last part is added very tentatively. (maybe he killed her by accident... but then would the note to grady three days before her death just be a coincidence? im sure that has some deeper meaning.)

maybe it wasnt the black swan who sent those notes to grady...

to end on a funnier note: alicorn poop. sophie faceplanted into alicorn poop. it happens to all main characters, it always has to be someone walking in at the worst moment. i thought id be the vackers w keefe who show up n embarass her, but who better than the council to get humiliated in front of ? i dont hate sophie i just laugh at her pain

i think thats all for the 25% mark, im gonna keep reading today. im gonna go to my grandmas house so maybe i can get a couple hundred pages in !!!

[thatwholethingwiththeduck]

more Hilson fic recs (variety: post-finale, mix of angst and fix-it, please check tags)

Motion Months - those last five months

I'll Be Seeing You - new year's eve, tuxedos, getting high

Four Months Later - house is house, doing what house does, i.e. wildly unethical improbable experimental medical treatments

A River Out of Eden - a couple of stops on the road

hail mary - house takes one last opportunity to drug his best bro

[accio-victuuri]

there are clowning materials/potential candies that i wanna look into and talk about no matter how improbable they are. then there are those where i’m just — do i even want to do this? lol. only because there is not much to go on and fueled solely by speculation. anyway, this is about the alleged camera gifted to xz ( by wang yibis babie ) and how he took it to milan with him.

i’m making this so i can refer to it if anything comes up in the future. the thing is, if you look at the vlogs/photos — ZZ is using his phone to take pictures and videos. there is nothing wrong that, most people use their phones and he has his team that will take the “content” who brought the equipment. but i just find it hard to believe that GG, a photographer, will not bring a camera? this is a dude who brings it for drama shoots ( for example ace troops ) and that’s at home. so what more for a trip like this. in milan. there are a couple of fan-photos/videos of him roaming around and we don’t see him holding a proper camera. surely there will be other content from that trip and let’s see if we find the cam but right now it seems like it’s non- existent.

this talk started with a made-up 🍉…

i’m saying made-up because all melons that read like this are. especially those that say “xx and xx have a good relationship” or “xx exercise alot”. if this was from a fake rumor house, i would be more inclined to have a positive take on it but it’s not. as i also said before, i don’t endorse this particular account cause they clearly post reliable work-related melons, anti posts and random stuff to get attention. point is, melon accounts are not friends.

anyway, this made some turtles think about last october when some where noticing the appearance of cameras in their promo pics/ videos. and comments came up of maybe it’s a clue that they are giving us. remember XZ didn’t do his usual birthday post last year, same with Bobo.

so now we’re like, why not look into it?

XZS posted very few photos of GG ( 2021-2022 ) with a camera and i can’t really tell what he’s using for p1 and p2. but i think this is the same one he takes with him @ drama shoots.

for the vlogs i found this, but they covered the brand. lol. and well the occasional polaroid cameras are also spotted in his vlogs.

i don’t see any concrete timeline of what cameras he has, i only remember his pd101 guesting and how fans were saying the camera he used is his own. it just never really came up, how many cameras do you have? hahahahahahaha!

In terms of MFW,

the main camera his team was using for photos and vlogs was Canon EOS body and of course the important thing are the lenses which they switch out. I think this was not the “gifted” one and more of something his assistant/photographer owns. 📷

my eye is on the camera he used for the tod’s photoset when he landed in Milan. It was still posted under XZS and they tagged Tod’s, but it’s not exactly a “business photoshoot” that will be released as a proper Ad. It is still work-related, but given the freedom to add his personal touch. popular guess is it’s a sony zv-1, which is a known compact vlogging camera that is good quality. it is a thoughtful gift for someone you know who loves to shoot his day-to-day life. it’s not too heavy or so expensive that you will be afraid to use it casually.

some are saying it might be provided by tod’s for him to shoot but i find that unlikely. they know he has his team. if they need to capture photos/videos of him, they will send their own. knowing how cared for he was by the tod’s team during his trip. and the important thing for a tod’s “ad post” is really the product. the clothes, bags and shoes. so why was this camera featured twice? is he showing it off? for what?

i checked the review and it sounds promising that i almost wanna buy one for myself 😂😂😂

it could be his own and he bought it himself. it is possible too ( by turtle logic ) that it’s “gifted” by wyb. who knows. as with all other candies, we can’t say for sure or confirm things. but for this one, i think we need more evidence and time. 💕

reference sources: one & two

[phoebehalliwell]

I was going through your dark future tag (obsessed!!!!) and I was wondering what your vision is for Tamora being on Wyatt's side? I'm really curious! <3

yes okay so i'm realizing i don't think i've ever talked about this! so basically in the light timeline tamora mainly has her two defining traits in that she is a bit of a scaredy cat (especially in regards to her own powers) and she is a dreamer (but she really doesn't let herself dream, like, ever. literally haha now that i think of it at the point in TWW that we're in she's basically downing potion for a dreamless sleep like every night. but i think this is best exemplified by her being a business/econ major while kat is off on a gap year bc kat like i want to find myself and explore new things and tamora, while she has these dreams, simply doesn't find it realistic. that's why she picked such a practical major, something you could definitely get a job with, because - and this is also rooted in her anxiety - she doesn't want tot go out on a limb have it break underneath her and have it all come crashing to the ground. if you asked her "what is your dream major" or "what is your dream job" i don't know if she'd have an answer. like, there definitely is an answer and it's definitely not "business major" but she is kind of so severed / embarrassed by that dreamer part of herself that she doesn't know what the answer is.)

so anyway. a major difference we find in the dark future would a) be it's dark as hell in here lol. you know wyatt's kind of crazy and magic isn't doing well and the charmed ones are all in pretty bad emotional places. and then b) tamora and kat were raised with their powers. in canon as defined in the comics which i did elect to continue in my writings, the twins powers were bound bc tamora like lit the nursery on fire. because, even as a baby, she packed a punch, and those powers were dangerous, and this grants them the ability to live a normal life. however, in the dark future, okay, they were maybe bound for a couple years til the girls were like 5ish bc by then they can kind of comprehend stuff and things and then Also it's obvious they're not getting a normal life. so you might as well start training them bc there is a darkness brewing on the horizon.

so this is where we circle back to Tamora, Anxiety, & Dreams. TAD, if you will. she is still scared, and she is afraid of her powers and herself and the world and you know what her family lowkey isn't helping because they're basically saying yeah there's a lot to be scared of. so probably around a middle school age for her, she meets her cousin. her cousin everyone's warned her about. and she knows she should fight him but she can't bc quite frankly she is frazzled and scared and lord knows powers don't work super well when you're in that headspace. but wyatt is actually super nice, and he protects tamora, and he watches out for her. maybe he saved her from some school bullies or demons in a way where he did most of the damage but lets tamora commit the final blow (probably demons it would be excessive to kill middle school bullies but like. i mean not improbable? if we wanted to get really dark with it we could say it was actually some older person attempting to sexually assault tamora at age 12 or whatever and she does kill that person. i just think that that's um. very heavy and needs to be done with respect i kind of hate when media sprinkles in assault against women but never fully understands the ramifications that continue throughout life when that shit happens to you. like we could go with that it would be interesting i would just really want to put proper emphasis and more research towards that trauma. if we wanted to go a little lighter it could be because magic is already relatively exposed by this point? a witch hunter trying to kill tamora). Point Is. tamora does it. she (probably) kills that guy, using her power, with wyatt's guidance. and just for a moment, it's a taste of what she dreams of -- a world where she's not the one who's scared, she's the one who's powerful, she's the one who's in control

so i think that is was ultimately pulls her to wyatt's side, this promise of being someone who is not scared but who is fierce, who is confident, who is in control. and it feels good. it feels so good to be powerful and to be feared and not be such a shrinking violet not be the awkward kid who feels like she doesn't fit in but to take the knife and carve out the place yourself. this, obvi, fucks up her relationship to kat. the twin telepathy thing is definitely complicated and not great to have when you're on opposite sides of a war. i honestly wouldn't be surprised if kat tried to psychically argue tam back to their side and tam in fury did try to kill kat. and the thing with the twin telepathy (as i have established it) is when your brain chemistry is altered, you can't reach each other. this happens when one is over caffeinated, drunk, high, under the affects of a potion, etc. if it's modified in the same way (e.g. both took the same potion) then they can still communicate but maybe it's a little hazier. if someone is to say go on antidepressants or something, their brain chemistry is being altered, so they wouldn't be able to communicate. however, the way it works is they are always kind of spiritually reaching out to find each other, so, assuming they were to stay on the same dose and meds and keep this as their new "base chemistry", within a couple months the connection would reinstate itself.

This Is Why tamora, (who, on wyatt's side, renames herself paloma halliwell, taking both a "p" name and the established magical last name of the family (mitchell is not a respected magical last name, hell neither is matthews. but halliwell has been around for generations, so she takes it, separating herself from her mother's legacy and aligning herself with wyatt's concept of the warren line being the ultimate power)) is always taking some kind of potion or pill. she'll usually switch it up about every month of so, to keep her mind augmented and sealed off from kat. actually, on the rebellion side, i think whenever they have a psychic or anything of that nature, they do try to replicate whatever tam is on in order to gain access to her mind and maybe what the dark side is up to

[kingscrown666]

1. The thing where someone is trying to hide, and the camera pans away for a couple seconds to show the approaching enemy, then suddenly you look back at where the person was, but they're gone... way faster than should have been possible

2. That trope where someone is removing their weapons and they just keep pulling out more and more, from increasingly improbable places

[f001onthehill]

° Василий Артемович Бугаев (Vasily Artemovich Bugayev).

Pretty sure most of you have done this at some point. May as well tag a few people to post (or reblog) theirs. Rules are simple: Describe your OC in the words of an NPC (or NPCs). Feature as many NPCs as you want. Then tag at least as many people.

tagging: @pinkydude @elvenbeard @imaginarycyberpunk2023 @chevvy-yates @katsigian @miss--river @wanderingaldecaldo @kittenchrissy @noirapocalypto @jaymber @dreamskug (...and YOU. :-))

Fixers' Notes:

Padre: Creative. Charming. True to his principles even when it’s neither convenient nor practical. It disqualifies him from certain types of work, but I respect it. It does help he’s very transparent in negotiating his boundaries and very competent at what he does. Wakako Okada: V is very picky about his contracts and, I am keenly aware, a potential liability in case a job turns too unsavoury for his liking. He’s over-familiar and if he weren’t so charming I’d say he’s downright insolent. But he is also one of the best hackers this side of the city. And he understands the ecosystem and his place in it, even if his language and manners occasionally suggest otherwise.

Regina Jones: V is...a little sheltered if you ask me. He hates to get his hands bloody and I think it has little to do with moral considerations and everything to do with his personal distaste for violence. But I’m not complaining. V is good enough at navigating the streets – and his job – without having to sacrifice principles for efficiency or vice versa. After a couple of years in Night City, he has a solid track record and a bodycount of zero. All things considered – that’s pretty damn impressive.

Mr. Hands: I don’t particularly care for his work philosophy - or his attitude.

Dino Dinovic: He’s a good kid. Wicked smart. Loves to clown around but knows when not to. He’s choosier than most mercs I know. Given how many gigs he straight up refuses, it might be more economical to lose his number and hire cheaper mercs with fewer scruples. Profesionally, he clicks better with the likes of Regina or Dakota. But I enjoy his style. Muamar Reyes: I don’t have a strong opinion one way or the other, we don’t work together that often. But my experience so far mostly lines up with the rep he has. He’s a cheeky smartass, he won’t do wetwork, and worst of all, he mixes up work with politics - but his skills make up for it. Some gigs need a gentler touch and a stealthier approach and he’s good at that sort of thing.

Dakota Smith: Some mercs are worth building a good relationship with and V is one of them. He’s competent, reliable and honest – and he’s in it for the people. He is young and has much to learn, but he learns fast.

Rogue Amendiares: V is a talented kid with a good work ethic. Shame how things turned out for him but he seems to be doing fine, considering. Shows remarkable resilience. One of his best assets is the other Bugayev, though. They may not often work as a unit but they network as one and they do keep each other updated, make no mistake about that. It pays to keep it in mind. And it’s also why you don’t get to mess with V just because he is so improbably, stupidly nice. V gets to be nice in part because the other guy is anything but.

[jotun-philosopher]

Good Omens is living rent-free in my brain...

...and the resulting scenarios floating around in there are pretty varied and won't stop coming, so I hope you like 'em, however improbable they may be!

I'm no great shakes at story-writing or anything, so I can't do much more than fling these ideas into the void, but if you want to use one or more as fanfic/fanart prompts, go right ahead! (and tag me on the result pls! I'd love to see it :D)

Second part here, third part here

Crowley finding Jemimah's pot tucked away carefully in a corner of the bookshop (maybe in the vicinity of Aziraphale's journals?) and getting all sentimental

Crowley getting a text alert on his phone, and when he opens it he gets pelted with origami nightingales folded from pages of notes in Aziraphale's hand -- attempts to figure out his feelings, erotic haiku, doodles of things he'd like to do with Crowley, sketches for possible engagement ring designs, vital information on the Second Coming copied from the hyper-confidential files; the sort of thing an angel undercover might need to hide from the Metatron in a hurry

Aziraphale having really, really bad PTSD after Apocalypse 2 gets resolved/prevented (and Crowley supporting him through it from his own experience of trauma recovery)

Aziraphale barely escaping Heaven with his life when he finally makes the choice to fully break away, and wandering in a haze until he comes across an empty playground and sits disconsolately on one of the swings, trying to figure out what the heck he's going to do now. Meanwhile, Crowley's out for an aimless midnight drive when he passes a playground and-- Hang on a minute! *brakes hard* Pale figure with mangled white wings, looks like they've been dragged backward through a hedge and beaten up? Is it...? Could it be...? Yes, it is! *gets out, goes over and sits on the swing next to his angel* They sit together in silence for a while, quietly reconnecting, and when the moment feels right, Crowley starts speaking to sympathise about how much the permanent loss of innocence really f***ing sucks, whether it happens a bit at a time or all at once

Nina and Muriel separately then jointly figuring out the shape of at least some of the machinations happening, then the rest of the Shopkeepers' Association also figuring out that Something Weird is going on that they want to help with if they can, and sending an envoy to Crowley (who seems to them to be best placed to explain things). He ends up calling an Extraordinary Meeting of the Shopkeepers' Association for the purpose of explaining the story from The Beginning -- involving, among other things, the similar awfulness of Heaven and Hell, a dramatic re-enactment of the whole Job business and at least 30 minutes without hesitation, deviation, repetition or pausing for breath on why he's head over hindquarters for his soft, fluffy angel who gave away his flaming sword <3

Aziraphale correctly and unhesitatingly pronouncing 'Llanfair­pwllgwyngyll­gogery­chwyrn­drobwll­llan­tysilio­gogo­goch' and Crowley reacting appropriately <3

Gabriel and Beelzebub deciding to come back to help prevent the Second Coming (to repay Aziraphale's kindness/compassion? to make amends for all the trouble they caused and 6000+ years of being really awful? the lack of hot chocolate on Alpha Centauri? something else entirely?)

edit to add a couple I just remembered:

Crowley saying in reaction to some discovery or other: "Rrrrrrrrr, I am gonna PAMPER that angel SO HARD when I get my hands on him!!" Aziraphale (chimes in flirtatiously): "Was that a threat or a promise? Either way, I look forward to it!" *waggles eyebrows* Crowley: *flustered snake noises*

Jesus himself offering to cater the Ineffables' wedding for free as thanks for the 'all-the-kingdoms' thing and the world-saving

[magpiefngrl]

WIP Snip | wangxian

Thank you for the tag @hoko-onchi-writes! My main WIP is OF but I'm also sporadically working on a couple fanfic stories, both wangxian. Here's something from a fic I began during my Summer Writin Challenge and....er..... still haven't finished.

(but I intend to)

*********

‘Since we’ll be working closely together, how can I call you?’

Lan Wangji said nothing; he simply stared with a gaze sharp enough to cut glass.

‘Do you prefer the Light Bearing Lord instead of Star that Rises over the Mountains? How about Lan Wangji?’

Lan-gongzi’s face became, improbably, even colder.

‘How about… Lan-er-gege?’

If I’d thought I’d seen Lan-gonzi’s face angry, it was nothing to what his expression resembled now. My whole body was on alert — that face promised violence — but Wei-gongzi just laughed, unconcerned. ‘You can call me Wei Ying,’ he said.

‘I shall not do such thing.’

Wei-gongzi pouted, but Hanguang-Jun continued. ‘I know the kind of cultivation you practice.’ His face was stern, his expression fierce. He glanced at me. ‘I know what that is. Your bodyguard. The Emperor has no idea. He doesn’t know the consequences of unleashing the demonic way onto a battlefield; I do.’

Wei-gongzi’s face closed up. He rose and strolled to the window, his flute twirling in his hands. ‘Luckily for me, you’re not the one making the decisions. I am invited by the Emperor himself.’ He turned. ‘Have you not confided your concerns in him?’

A corner of Hanguang-Jun’s mouth tightened. ‘I have.’

‘And he dismissed them, right?’ Wei-gongzi’s eyes were so bitter right then. ‘You understand cultivation, Lan Wangji. I understand war. That’s why I’m here.’

*********

tagging anyone who has a WIP cooking and wants to share a few lines!

[faithfulcat111]

Find the Word

Find the words from the list in your WIPs and post the paragraphs they belong to.

Finally getting this done. I was tagged by @musicalchaos07 for the words: choose, shy, think, glance, and night.

Choose

I actually cannot find this one anywhere that I can search.

Shy

(from my Succbus!Jancy WIP)

Being around Nancy wasn’t exactly a hard thing to do. Even though it made his heart beat wildly anytime she so much as looked at him and his voice twisted up making it hard to respond to any questions. But it had been like that since they first “met” through Will and Mike when they were like nine. And he was already what his mother called a shy boy (he just didn’t like to waste his words if he didn’t have to), so it was easy enough to play himself off as acting “normal” when he was around her.

Think

(from a WIP from my WInter Break Advent bingo card)

Jonathan knew he had no one to blame but himself for his mother's subtle hints that he might want to clean up his room (or himself), his still unpacked boxes shoved in a corner and his near empty, tiny room. For his tendency to wander deep in the woods with the tiniest hope that he wouldn’t walk back out with nothing in his hands for protection or to excuse his walk. For both Will and, increasingly, El’s annoyance at his inability to keep up on anything. The only one who hadn’t said anything yet was Hopper which Jonathan was grateful for. He didn’t think he could handle Hopper doing or saying anything towards him about his behavior without a full-on meltdown.

Glance

(from the next installment of Death is an evil. Pretty sure I've posted some of this as a snippet before, but it has been months now)

Jonathan gave up on that, slowly stepping forward into the house, hands tightening around his spear as he did so. A glance to his left and that was all ruined as he found himself suddenly in their destroyed living room in Hawkins, walls covered in a crayon map, lights hanging from the ceiling. A wind whistled through a large hole in the wall and he knew that this was improbable. That these events happened nearly a year apart. But there was a burning smell from the hallway, one that he couldn’t quite tell if it was the monster they burned or his brother. Screams burst from around him: Nancy calling for him somewhere he couldn’t quite see, his brother’s screams as he was burned, his sister’s as she exerted herself trying to get that monster out of her leg. Shouts from the years of insults and bullying from everyone who had ever decided he wasn’t good enough, roared amongst the screams and Jonathan clamped his hands over his ears, shaking from the effort to avoid what was frankly far too much noise.

Night

(from my Madwheeler Roleswap AU, which is currently a bullet point fic (also I do owe people some asks on it I know. i got unexpectedly busy and will double back to those later))

Mike tries asking at school the next day about the bullies. They had mostly ignored him despite being the new kid until last night and he is getting targeted as well. He is confused why the focus seems to be on Will (and a little irrationally angry). But Max becomes extremely defensive and the other two boys follow her lead. Will just seems amused before just zoning out entirely. Mike also wanted to ask about Jane, but is iced out before he gets the chance.

I'm only gonna tag a couple of people because I think most of my usual people were already tagged, but @hullosweetpea , @karadanverss , and @pearlypairings and whomever else would want to! It is completely no pressure though.

Your words are: thoughtful, seize, straight, provide, and door