#not sure how well reading on my tv screen for an extended period of time is gonna sit with my head (and by extension my stomach) though

[usodeshou]

I had many things that I had considered doing today, most of it just being some chill video gaming, if I'm really honest. And I did get to do some. Then I started feeling sick.

I thought to myself, oh well, that silly motion sickness again, guess I'mma take a break 🙃

Turns out, wasn't just the motion sickness, though.

Spent the next hour and a half using my toilet as an echo chamber for creative voice lessons. Switched it up every now and again, just to keep things interesting, but the sound was just too good, so I kept coming back for encores. Realised the toilet might be cursed because I could not move away from it for more than a few meters or a few minutes before having to return.

Messaged my mom, who kindly brought me something to help break the curse.

Then spent the next three hours in a curled up position on my bedroom floor, on the carpet right next to my bed (bed would have been to soft), head on my fluffiest pillow, and underneath a warm, cuddly blanket, finally getting some rest and sleeping off the exhaustion.

When it all started it was early afternoon. The sun has now set. I am finally sitting back on the couch, munching on some insanely good pretzel sticks and drinking tea. Feel utterly serene. Could murder someone for a good, cheesy pizza right now, but that might be the devil talking.

[develation]

SCP AU

So @emeraldtrainer1 (Ao3), @writingforfunandbecauseboredom (Ao3), and DarkstarWolf53 (<-Dunno if they have Tumblr) did an SCP AU three-way Convo fic some months ago. I really enjoyed the outline and concept and asked if I could expand on it. With their permission and about a month of research into what the actual SCP Foundation is (and holy cow there is so much, no wonder people are all over this) I've finally managed to get a start on this. There is a decent amount of things that are different from their original Convo (via their permission) but it will basically follow the same storyline that they created. Please go check their Convo out, it's a very long and fun read with a lot of good fluff and Angst mixed in.

I will hopefully be drawing some of my designs soon but for now, writing seems to be the way to go. Here is a link to it on Ao3 -> https://archiveofourown.org/works/33213928/chapters/82464553

I'll also have it below in case you would like to read it on Tumblr instead.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Error: (The End Of All But Me.) There are too many unworldly traits that spiders have that I couldn't just not give to Error, so I've kind of combined their Puppetmaster concept to my design. He has 4 arms with clawed fingertips, his tail is prehensile and his jaw can split open. He has 5 tongues still, 2 of them are spear-like, and can shoot out and impale victims. The saliva produced under the tips of the barbs on the two tongues can liquidity a prey items insides so he can drink them up (still a clean freak, using the skin as a cup and drinking up any mess leaving a skin bag behind). His other three tongues are prehensile and can extend to an unknown length, they are barbed aswell but do not carry the venomous saliva. Strings wrap along his bones from his eye sockets, which he uses to create a nest atop the ceiling of his cell.

SCP-002's (Apollyon class) cell is a blank room (it ask for a TV later on) that goes up vertically 2 floors. The top half is required to be shrouded in darkness as it likes voids of either white or black. It has filled the darkness of its cell with a nest of strings that it spends all of its time in, even when feeding. It does not attempt to attack staff, when asked why it replied with, "Not yet." Personal have not been able to decipher what it means by that statement. In an interview via speakers and mics within containment cell, it was asked why SCP-002 stares off at seemingly nothing for extended periods of time and never touches the ground. Subject responded with, "Busy." When asked what it was busy doing- "Watching." When asked what it was watching- "The world. Everything." Due to this experience, it can be concluded that 002 can view any place in the world and perhaps beyond via "screens". These "screens" are unviewable to anyone but 002 and 001 as the latter SCP had called them so, hence their given name. SCP-002 has a strange relationship with SCP-001 and it can not be determined if 002 likes or dislikes 001.

Ink created Error on accident. In the beginning, Ink didn't know what he was doing, and the brutality of Earth's natural forces of destruction were uncontrollable. If he wanted to bring life to his chosen planet he needed a way to control the chaos. And so through the storm, a new force was born. And even if Ink didn't create it, he did wish for it.

Error is a ticking time bomb for extinction. He waits and watches until he decides it's time for a "spring cleaning" and starts his work. The Ordovician, Late Devonian, Permian, Triassic, and Cretaceous mass extinctions were all him. He deemed the human race ready for a "cleaning" a long time ago and Ink agreed with him, ready to see and make something new. But Nightmare threatened the both of them by stating that he would make the earth forever inhabitable and they would have to kill him before he stoped his rage. Nightmare fears that if another extinction event were to occur he'd lose his boys.

Ink: (God doesn't care about what's right or what's wrong. God just wants to watch interesting things happen.) His form is always changing, different traits from different animals and organisms he's created. Ink is basically Gaia. Born when Theia crashed into Earth around 4.5 billion years ago, he made everything that ever existed. Since he's made A LOT of organisms he has a ton of favorites and the traits from them are what mostly show up when he mutates. Sometimes it's Kaprosuchus with belonged snout and fangs. Sometimes it's Tylosaurus with its marine reptilian posterior. Sometimes it's Chital Deer and their antlers. More often than not though, his tail has consistently stated having bristle-like hair at the tip of it, which is basically his brush. The concept of paintbrushes is pretty new to him since the human race has been around for a short time compared to other species, so while he does have one, his tail is his broomie. If his next from doesn't have it then he just uses his hands and his blood.

Ink can't be contained. It's that simple, he just can't. He just sticks around because it's interesting and hilarious to see his creations so intelligent but so stupid. (remember how humans are still young in terms of Earth's age, so the fact that they're so smart... on a thought level that could almost match his own is so very interesting to see and watch. even if there ruining his planet.) The SCP foundation just has to let him do his thing and hope that he doesn't override 003's and 004's decision to not have an extinction event.

His cell is basically a mini-ecosystem, with all of his favorite organisms living within whether they are extinct or not. He loves his little sample of the world and it keeps him in his cell for a good amount of time so the foundation let him have it. If any of them even touch what is HIS without permission then he rips them apart and feeds them to the baby Rhamphorhynchus. Don't touch his babies.

...Cross though... he can touch his babies... and Dream... and maybe Error... That's it though!

SCP-001 (Apollyon Class) is a being older than all living things, despite his toddler-like mannerisms. Even more infuriating, within an interview, 001 openly admitted to being the cause of all SCP's and their anomalous effects. It stated that they were all just mistakes and/or experiments, testing the limits of their own abilities. 001's quoted response- "You don't get it do you? I made everything here! All of your little "SCP's" are just of my creation as all of you. Sure there all mistakes but, it just proves my point that it's time to start over again. A clean slate y'know? Pfft- wow you look mad! If it makes you feel any better, I don't like most of them either. They were cool at first but... it's like flicking black paint over a finished painting. Sure, you can try to get over it but eventually, it will just bother you so much that you just can't stand it! Well... I do kinda want some of them to stay... If I could just convince Ru..." -shows evidence to this conclusion. Termination trials were approved by the 05 Council, though have not been able to start since 001's creation of a barrier around its cell, preventing entry of anything that tries to pass.

[Note: Error, Dream, and Nightmare are not included in what Ink views as "mistakes". Y'know when you're trying something new and you don't know what you’re doing, yet it works somehow. That's them, happy accidents. Ink adores them.]

Ink finds the attempt of Termination trials on him to be absolutely hilarious. The fact that humanity's insecurity about their lifespan and control is so great that they'd try to KILL HIM. Amazing. He can't believe he's managed to make the simultaneously best and worst organism ever.

Dream: (When day breaks.)  Again he was accidentally created by Ink’s actions in an intense solar storm. The flare drifting over the earth in combination with Ink’s magic still working to bring life brought him to existence. Dream’s design is almost harpy-like, with beautiful golden, sun-like wings with a small feathery crest atop his skull. Two tail-like feathers sprout from the crest that can rise up and down depending on expression and mood. He also has bird feet and legs, and a tail.

Dream adores all life, his is the warmth and growth of the sun (original form being a ball of light and plasma that literally looks like a mini sun). He is basically like a piece of the sun on earth. His cell is kinda like Ink’s, only in the fact that there are just a couple of animal species. Some deer, birds, and insects mainly. Ink obviously just appeared in his cell one day and made it for him. While Dream could be considered to be a Safe SCP, his ability to damage or completely ruin the planet if inraged prevents that classification.

SCP-003 (Apollyon Class) has proven to be a relatively docile creature. It is elegant in nature (like that of a bird) and shows greater empathy towards all life in general. Unlike SCP’s 001, 002, and 004 who view it as more interesting and admirable, more like a pretty crystal than an actual being with its own consciousness. 003 can not be fully contained and has shown the ability to travel through light rays. Its aura has also shown to be some form of anesthesia, and exposure for prolonged periods causes victims to feel more at peace and calm. 003 does have the capability to travel through the “dreamscape”, what exactly that in tails is unknown.

Dream doesn’t agree with the extinction event thing because the Holocene period hasn’t lasted for nearly as long as it should. On the other hand, he does distaste humanity/monsterkind for all it has done to the planet. Even so, he feels like they deserve more of a chance.

Nightmare: (Does the Black Moon howl?)(Death) Complete with the theme of being Dreams opposite, Nightmare was born from a black moon and the combination of Ink’s magic bringing life to the earth. He isn’t an evil force or anything, just the night to the day. His design is pretty true to OG nightmare, although his legs and feet share the same digitigrade format. His tentacles are more ghostly than slimy and they drip upwards instead of towards the ground. His bones also have a ghost;y wisp to them, but it isn’t that noticeable. Instead of only having a turquoise glint in his magic, there are sparks of purple aswell. (His original form being a black sphere of what looks like smoke).

His cell is basically an entrance to a cave system that Ink had made for him. Inside is a galaxy of crystals and gemstones that glow and sparkle like the night sky. A small stream runs through, the light refracting off of the water, adding to the glow effect. It is a nice calm place for Nightmare to just chill in, his separate own little world.

Nightmare is kind of mysterious, in the realm of Error in which he likes to watch things happen. Just lurking in the shadows, a quiet observer. Though, he wasn’t as fascinated by life as the others. So to prevent his boredom Ink made him a present- Killer. Nightmare hated the little thing at first but it didn’t take too long to grow fond of the little guy. Not too long later Ink pronounced his joy in watching Nightmare sigh in frustration by sending 2 more bundles his way -Dust and Horror- and Nightmare had to threaten Ink to stop before any more joined the fray.

SCP-004 (Apollyon Class) is an entity whose intentions are completely unknown. A mysterious being that chooses to dwell in the cave system 001 made for it. The entity refuses to interact with personal unless in interview. And when it does respond, it does so in riddles and metaphors. It seemingly takes joy asking more questions than the interviewer, turning the conversation in its favor. On such question that has been repeated multiple times - “Does the Black Moon howl?” has puzzled personal. Though 004 states that if answered correctly and explained why, then it will share its secrets with that person and that person only.

004 proves to be uncontainable like its counterparts, able to travel through shadows. SCP’s 012, 032, and 024 seem to be “followers” of 004, and regularly go missing from their cells. Most likely 004’s doing.

[Ink created Killer, Dust, and Horror during the era where dinosaurs were still alive, so they have some traits from them.]

Killer: (War) Was created by Ink for Nightmare to keep him entertained. Killer was born as a baby in Ink’s very hands, a little skeleton with curved blades for hands and digitigrade legs and feet (and little quills on his back). Growing up under Nightmare’s care was an interesting experience, but he thought Kill’s everything he needed to know.

-[SCP-012, Keter]-

Killer is fast, very fast. And he enjoys killing things (what a surprise). He’s pretty much the same cocky boi as always. His more SCP side is that he doesn’t seem to ever feel pain and the black liquid that leaks through his eyes. That can be used as a type of venomous toxin to whatever he pleases.

Dust: (Pestilence) You know Epidexipteryx and Therizinosaurus? Those are Dust hands, long with even longer claws. He can also turn into literal dust, more of a phantom or wraith in nature. He can walk through walls, and turn others to dust and grow himself if he wishes.

He and Horror could be twins since Ink made them both at the same time. Holding his little creations in his arms as they wriggled and whined in confusion at suddenly being alive.

-[SCP-032, Keter]-

Dust is pretty quiet and tame. He has his episodes but he stays pretty much the same as bookwrym’s, writing’s, and Dark’s Dust.

Horror: (Famine) Since Horror is a vent crawler I based his design on that. Horror’s second set of arms are like a praying mantis with an extra joint, hands serrated blades almost like Killer’s. He used to sit in trees and wait for prey to walk underneath him, plucking them from the ground with his long arms and eating them alive.

Same thing when in vents, just waits over the openings and plucks a person off of the ground and into the vent (if personal don’t keep up with his feeding times)

-[SCP-024, Euclid]-

Other than his design Horror is pretty much the same as bookwyrm’s, writing’s, and Dark’s concept.

Outer: [SCP-044, Safe] His stardust makes him have luminescent galaxy and star patterns on his bones. He floats regularly without control over it and can sometimes make other objects float, in rare cases people, aswell. Ink made him a jacket where pieces of its hood and aglets float off like a sort of fluffy foam. The pieces orbit him like planets to a star before joining back, making a continuous cycle.

(And yes writingforFUN, he will still keep his anime sparkling eyelight’s).

Cross: [SCP-00X, Thaumiel] Was created by Dr. X to help contain and terminate Keter SCP’s. Being forced to kill his brother when he turned Keter, not completely in control of his actions. Dr. X’s “programing” making him see his brother no longer as such, just an object to be eliminated. When Cross became uncontrollable Dr. X put wiped his memory without the 05’s or administers permission and an MTF was sent after him that came back empty-handed. Cross was brought back soon enough and had his memory wiped.

They bring him back in as a staff member and that’s when the story kicks off, mostly following bookwyrm’s, writingforFUN, and Dark’s original outline/convo.

(I apologize for any typos)

[worldwidemochiguy]

Princess Peach (soft! yandere jungkook)

Summary: After Jungkook spends half the day ignoring you, he decides to make it up to you by teaching you how to play a game. But, once you win, what will be your prize? (hint: its jungkook’s undying love and affection like when i said this was soft I mean it’s sOMfT)

Word Count: 2.8K

Authors note: thank you to @kpopgirlbtssvt​ who requested a y!kookie who plays a video game with reader and the reader getting excited and kissing him when they win and then apologising before being pulled in for another kiss by jungkook. as i said before, this is V V soft and fluffy like there’s some mention of kidnapping and other stuff but like it’s barely there tbh. anyways, hope you enjoy!!!

masterlist :)

Your stomach rumbled again and you set your book aside with a sigh. You had been trying to focus on something- anything, other than your empty stomach for the past forty minutes but every method of distraction was proving to be ineffective. Normally, now was around the time Jungkook would give you lunch. He refused to let you go into the kitchen on your own on account of the ‘dangerously sharp cooking utensils’ and so insisted on making all your meals for you. 

Jungkook was — to put it lightly — an atrocious cook. Your mouth watered at the thought of making yourself something that tasted good, or at least edible, but doing that would require an extended period of time with Jungkook watching your every move ‘to ensure your safety’. Though your feelings had, reluctantly, softened somewhat about him, you still weren’t exactly keen on spending more time with him than you strictly had to. 

Which led you to your current predicament. You had not eaten since breakfast because Jungkook, instead of bestowing the usual amount of attention and adoration on you, had decided to lock himself in a room and not come out for several hours. You weren’t sure of what was in the room, or if Jungkook was even alive. You had knocked on the door and called his name as loudly as you dared, but there had been no reaction. You weren’t worried about him. You weren’t. And you certainly weren’t missing the attention he gave you normally. Of course not. You were just hungry. 

So hungry that you returned to the door which stood in between you and Kook- Jungkook. You raised your knuckles hesitantly to the painted wood, rapping them against it three times and softly calling out his name. 

No response. 

You tried again. 

Still no response. 

Getting frustrated, you shouted his name, and even stomped your foot. 

To be honest, you were kind of glad he didn’t come that time. If he saw you acting like a brat because he wasn’t paying attention to you, you probably would’ve leapt out the nearest window in embarrassment. Well, you would’ve if they weren’t barred. Again, it was something about ‘ensuring your safety, baby’. Jungkook was oddly fixated on your well-being, as you had realised over the past months. 

Oh. You got an idea. You stumbled over your feet deliberately and loudly, and then fell to the floor, letting out an artificial moan of pain.  

“Jungkook, help me! I’m hurt!”

You heard a loud crash in the room, before the door rattled obnoxiously. Obviously he was in too much of a rush to remember it was locked, but rather than unlock it, the door was practically wrenched off its hinges a second later to reveal Jungkook, wild-eyed and panting with exertion. You were almost worried he was going to run over you in his haste, but his eyes immediately fixated on you and he crouched down and yanked you into his arms, pressed so tight against him you could barely breathe.

A moment later, he pulled back to look at you, eyes running frantically over your every feature, searching for what was supposedly bringing you pain. 

“Baby? Y/n? What’s wrong? What happened? Are you ok? Do you need to go to the hospital?” These questions were fired off so rapidly, you were pretty sure he didn’t even stop for breath. You shook your head repeatedly, unable to talk since he was currently running his thumbs over your mouth and pulling your lips back to check if any of your teeth were missing. You felt an odd flare of fondness in your chest before you smothered it ruthlessly. 

“Stop!” You exclaimed as soon as his fingers were removed from your mouth, though they didn’t stray far, brushing against your cheekbones. “I’m ok! I’m fine!”

“But-” his brow wrinkled cutely- and no, he’s not cute, he literally kidnapped you a few months ago, “You said you were hurt? You yelled for me?” His tone had an upturn at the end, as if he was unsure. 

“No, no I just…” you trailed off, and he tilted his head curiously, wide eyes somehow growing even bigger, which was also not cute, God y/n, get yourself together. “I just- I had knocked on the door several times and you didn’t answer. You- you haven’t been around all day…” his eyes became even wider, if that was possible, as his face stretched into a bunny grin which, ok, even you had to admit it was cute. 

“So… you wanted my attention?” 

“No!” You yelled, even as your cheeks flushed a deep red. Jungkook was properly grinning now, eyes swimming with amusement and you just could not stand it. 

“Baby,” he started, his tone dripping with smug satisfaction, “If you wanted my attention, you could have just asked.”

“No I couldn’t!” You exploded, “I did ask for it several times but you didn’t listen! I’ve been waiting for hours!” 

It was only after you had expelled the angry words that you realised what you had said. Your cheeks were now as flushed and furious as your shouts had been and Jungkook looked like his birthday and Christmas had just come at once. You already knew he found your anger adorable so you weren’t surprised when he tugged you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you tightly and tucking his head downwards to press his mouth against the crown of your forehead. You told yourself it didn’t feel nice to be so cherished by someone.

“Baby~” he cooed, and you wanted to die, “Daddy’s so sorry he hasn’t been looking after you enough. Can you find it in your heart to forgive him? Please?” You looked up to see his eyes were actually watering slightly in remorse, and you- You didn’t feel bad. At all. You had absolutely no reason to feel bad.

“It’s ok,” you muttered, “I wasn’t- it was fine. I’m just-” You let out a hushed sigh. “I was worried about you.” The last part slipped out without your permission, but you made sure it was as quiet as possible, murmured into the shoulder of his black sweater, and you prayed to every deity in existence that he didn’t hear it. 

“You…” his voice wavered slightly,  Fuck, “You were worried about me?” He seriously sounded like he was going to cry. Was he going to cry? You looked up to see him gazing at you with the most adoring expression you had ever seen. You tucked your face back into his chest to hide your newly-blushing cheeks. 

“No,” you mumbled into the fabric, and his laughter warmed you to your core, no matter how hard you tried to freeze him out.

“Ok, well, I’m sorry, baby. I promise I won’t ever leave you alone like that again. I don’t even know how I did it, I guess I was just distracted.”

“What were you even doing?” You asked, and then stiffened. Maybe it’s not the best idea to question the guy who kidnapped you. But he didn’t get mad.

“I was gaming.” He explained in a patient tone.

“Gaming?” You sit up to look at the room, now exposed due to the door Jungkook had ripped off its hinges in order to get to you. It was dark, illuminated by the TV mounted on the wall which showed an animation of snowy mountains and what looked like a horses’ head pointing up from the bottom of the screen, positioned in a way to make it seem like you were the one riding the animal. 

“Yeah, it’s one of my hobbies.”

“Oh,” you said, unsure of how to reply. “W-What game is that?”

“It’s called Red Dead Redemption.” Jungkook told you, “Would you like to play it?”

“Oh, no thanks.” You shook your head at him, eyes wide. “It sounds like a violent game, so… I’d rather not, if that’s ok with you.” He smiled, as if bemused by your words, and stands up, pulling you up as well. 

“You don’t have to play that game, I have many.” As he spoke, he walked backwards into the room, drawing you along with him by your hands. You liked holding hands with him more than you would care to admit. 

“What games do you have, then?”

“Well,” he started off, as if preparing to rattle off a billion different games and honestly, it wouldn’t surprise you if he did. “I have Overwatch, Skyrim,” he leant down to look at the stacks of cases he had on the TV cradle, reading off the spines of the cases, “…Mario-Kart-”

“Yes!” You burst out, “I want to play that one. Can I play that one?” He chuckled, then nodded, picking out the case and opening it,

“Of course you can, baby. Have you played it before?” You shook your head regretfully and he laughed again.

“My friend had it, but she never let me play. I always had to just watch her play it. She was a bitch.” You pouted, and he snorted.

“How long ago was this, exactly?”

“I was seven.”

“And you still remember?”

“It’s not the kind of thing you forget, Jungkook.”

Five minutes later, once Jungkook had finally stopped laughing, the game was all set up and you were picking your avatar. For some reason, you had expected Jungkook to leave once he had put the game on, as you knew he wasn’t patient enough to just watch you play, but instead, he sat down next to you, leaving almost no distance between the two of you and causing your traitorous heart to gallop faster than you were going to be able to drive in Mario Kart. You were kind of worried, you didn’t want him to think you were inept or something. 

“Ok, so now you’re meant to pick what to drive as.” Jungkook explained and you scowled slightly.

“I know that.” 

“Ah,” he smiled, the edges of his lips curling into that smirk that you couldn’t look directly at, “Don’t get bratty, Princess. You asked for my help, remember?” You did not deign to answer that question, but it was mostly because you were unsure how steady your voice would sound after he called you ‘Princess’. 

“So, who’re you going to choose?” He asked, before raising an amused eyebrow and turning to you, shortening the precious distance between you even more, “Princess Peach?” 

“…No.” 

You were going to choose Princess Peach, but obviously now you would rather die than prove the smug bastard right.

“What are you going to pick then?”

“…Not Princess Peach.” Jungkook huffed a laugh, before leaning in even closer to you. You could feel his warm breath brush against your cheek as he came to a pause right in front of you. His expression practically dared you to say something, to react, but you kept perfectly still as he reached over and plucked your controller from your hands. 

He selected Princess Peach.

The first game was… bad. There was no other way to put it. You came in 8th out of 8. Jungkook didn’t even try and pretend he wasn’t laughing at you as you went off the tracks again and again, at one point you even started driving in the opposite direction. That was probably when Jungkook tried to drink and then accidentally snorted the banana milk up his nose so hard he couldn’t breathe. After you achieved three more last-places, he seemed to eventually recover from his laughter-induced lactose attack.

“Let me help you.” His voice was low, and smooth, and you know you should have said no, but you couldn’t form the word. He reached one arm around your torso, bending round to put his hand atop yours on the controller, and then sidled up even closer to you so that his other hand was on top of your other hand. It was like some kind of awkward side hug. You voiced this complaint, and without further ado, Jungkook simply lifted you into his lap so that both his arms were wrapped around you, coming to rest on the controller that you were now holding with white knuckles. You weren’t sure whether the squeak you emitted was due to plain surprise, or shock that he could lift you that easily, or just sitting in his lap, but it made you flush deeply all the same. Jungkook said nothing, but you could practically feel his smirk. 

“You’ve just got to relax.” Jungkook purred in your ear, and you found the tension in your body leaking away, obedient to his command. “Good girl.” You whimpered slightly, and you definitely felt his smirk that time. 

“Don’t panic when the race starts, just keep your cool, and focus.” His advice made you determined to prove yourself — not to him, of course. You didn’t care what he thought. At all. 

The race started and Jungkook pressed his thumb down on top of yours, pushing the button and somehow you were in first place. You felt the excitement bubble within you but you didn’t let that distract you, allowing Jungkook’s warm breath on the back of your neck calm you and centre you in a way you were surprised it was able to. As you reached the final lap of the race, Junkook was barely playing, just letting you take control to cross the finish line. And you did.

You won! You couldn’t believe it! Before you could even stop to think, you turned around in Jungkook’s lap so you were straddling him. From there, it was only natural to lean in and press your lips to his. You distantly registered that you were kissing Jungkook, then the realisation became a lot less distant when it was joined with the fact that Jungkook was not kissing you back. He had almost frozen, and regret bursted as a sharp and bitter flavour on your tongue, replacing the delicious taste of him immediately. 

You pulled yourself off him, and you would’ve fallen to the floor if you weren’t being held around the waist.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered, and then again, louder, “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I- I’m sorry,” you repeated it over and over, trying with increasing desperation to get away from him and back to your room where you planned to be screaming into a pillow for the next millennia. But you couldn’t get away.

“I’m sorry, just- what-” You looked down to see the reason why you couldn’t get away: Jungkook’s arms were locked around your waist, holding you tightly. As you looked down at them, they tightened quickly causing you to pitch forwards into his chest. You looked up again. 

His face had morphed from the expression of shock into the widest, brightest, most devastating bunny-smile you had ever seen him wear. 

“I- huh?” You stuttered, feeling more confused than you had ever felt in your life. His smile sweetened slightly as he leaned in to bump your forehead with his.

“Do you know how long I have been waiting to kiss you, baby?” His eyes were on you, as if expecting an answer, so you shook your head dumbly in response. He screwed his eyes shut, as if almost in pain, and you felt the irrational urge to soothe him swell within you.

“So long, baby. Too long.” He opened his eyes again to peer at you, “And now you say sorry for kissing me? Never say that again, Princess.”

“I-” It was difficult to speak, your lips were tingling what with all this talk about kisses, and you really weren’t sure where Jungkook was going with this. “I just- you didn’t kiss me back.”

“Baby,” started Jungkook, his voice dripping with sincerity, “Do you really expect me to be able to focus on moving my lips when I am experiencing a life-changing moment?” You giggled slightly, and he laughed with you, reaching up to cup your face in his hands.

“I have been wanting to kiss you since the day I saw you, and for a long time, I thought… Well, I thought it would take you much longer to like me. I just wasn’t prepared for it, that’s all.” His sweet smile bolstered your confidence, and you found yourself saying,

“So, if I were to… kiss you now, you would respond this time?”

Jungkook’s grin turned deadly.

“I guess you’ll have to try it out and see.”

[whumphoarder]

Who Needs Disney When You Have Russell Crowe?

Summary: When Peter’s ear infection gets a little out of hand, Tony and Morgan have slightly different ideas of how to help.

Word count: 1,874

Genre: Sickfic, domestic fluff, Whump Lite™

A/N: Thanks to @xxx-cat-xxx for beta-reading and ideas <3

Link to read on Ao3

Peter wakes to the sound of quiet whimpering.

It takes a few seconds for his groggy brain to register where he is, but the warm glow of the bunny-shaped night light on the opposite wall illuminating the Arendelle toy castle and the pile of stuffed animals on the floor gives it away. He’s in Morgan’s room. Morgan, who insisted on getting a bunk bed for her sixth birthday so that she and Peter could have sleepovers whenever he came to visit.

Morgan, who is clearly in the midst of a nightmare.

“Mo...” Peter whispers hoarsely. There are a few more quiet, pained whimpers. “Mo,” he tries again, louder. His left ear is throbbing and it’s ridiculously stuffy in this room—he’s actually sweating. Kicking the tangled bed covers off of himself, he lifts a hand to tap the wooden bed frame over his head. She stirs. “Morgan, wake u-up.” His voice cracks on the last word.

Morgan sits up in her bunk. “Yeah?” she asks drowsily. She leans over the edge of bed to look at him, strands of her long hair falling in her face. “What is it?”

She doesn’t seem particularly upset, which Peter finds strange. “Did… did you have a b-bad dream?” he asks.

In the dim light of the room, he can just make out her curious expression. “I don’t think so.” She swings her legs over the side of the bed and shimmies backwards down the ladder. “Did you?”

“Wh-What?” His ear is ringing, the pain feeling almost bone-deep. There’s another whimper, barely audible.

“You’re crying,” she says simply, perching herself on the edge of his bed. Her brow knits together. “Are you sad?”

Peter wipes the back of his hand roughly across his face and finds it’s wet with tears. It takes a second for his addled brain to realize that she’s right, and then an instant wave of self-consciousness washes over him as he looks into the eyes of the frowning six-year-old. “No, sorry, ‘m fine.” He pushes himself up on his elbows, hurriedly brushing the tears away.

Morgan’s eyes go wide. “You’re bleeding!” she gasps.

“Huh?” Peter follows her horrified gaze down to the pillow he’s been using. It’s covered in something dark and sticky. Alarmed, he lifts a shaky hand to his throbbing ear and feels more liquid trickling down. “Oh – um – wow, uh...”

“I’m getting Daddy!” Morgan declares, jumping up from the mattress and spinning on her heel. “Hang on!”

“Wait, no, don’t freak him—”

But she’s already out of the room.

“...out.” With a small groan, Peter carefully sits the rest of the way up and flips the lamp on. The pastel lilac pillowcase is stained with a mixture of blood and yellowish fluid. Grimacing, he grabs some tissues from the box on Morgan’s dresser and dabs them carefully at his dripping ear, hissing sharply at the stabbing pain it causes.

Within a minute, Morgan is back, dragging the hand of a disheveled but surprisingly alert-looking Tony in after her. “See? He’s crying and bleeding out of his ears!” she blurts.

“Just one ear,” Peter corrects, lowering the tissue down to look at the fresh blood and pus on it. “Gross...”

Tony rolls his eyes. “Oh, well in that case I’ll just go back to bed—you’re perfectly fine.” He moves over to the bed, Morgan following close behind. “Anything you wanna share with the class? You take any good hits to the noggin’ recently? Blow something up?”

Peter shakes his head as much as he dares, which only increases the ringing sensation. “No, nothing like that,” he mutters. He wishes this was something cool and Spider-Man related, but he’s pretty sure it’s just his patented Parker Luck™. “Ear started hurting a couple days ago,” he admits. “Thought it would go away.”

Tony pulls out his phone and flips on the flashlight. “Can I see it?”

“Yeah,” Peter says, wincing. He bites his lower lip and does his best to keep as still as possible as Tony peers into his ear with the light.

“What does it look like?” Morgan asks curiously.

“Ugly as hell...” Tony mutters. He flicks the light off and turns to Peter. “Pretty sure you ruptured your eardrum, kiddo.”

“Ah.” The pain seems to ramp up with the confirmation. That checks out. Certainly feels like someone just bored a hole through his ear. He can feel the fluid dripping out down his cheek.

Tony must notice it too because he grimaces and pulls a couple more tissues out of the box to hand him. “You know, if you weren’t feeling well, you could have told us that when you got here,” he points out. “Instead of waiting until”—he glances at his lock screen—“3:37 in the morning.”

Peter manages a small smirk. “Gotta keep you on your toes. You know, now that you’re retired and all...”

Looking very unamused, Tony extends a hand and helps pull Peter up to standing. The movement only increases the throbbing in his ear and Peter squeezes his eyes shut tightly against a wave of dizziness.

“Alright?” Tony checks, still gripping his arm tightly.

“Yeah,” Peter breathes, the ringing growing louder. “Sorry. Just... really hurts.”

“He can have some of my medicine,” Morgan offers in a slightly hushed voice. “The one Mommy gives me when my ears hurt.”

Tony lets out a short laugh. “That’s nice of you, sweetie, but I don’t think grape-flavored Children’s Motrin is gonna cut it here.” He gestures up to the top bunk. “Why don’t you hop back up there and try to sleep some more while I go get Peter fixed up?”

Morgan sticks her lip out in a pout. “But I’m not tired now.”

Instant guilt comes over Peter at having woken her up, but Tony doesn’t miss a beat.

“Nope, you are, you just forgot,” he says knowingly. He lets go of Peter’s arm for a second to scoop the now quietly giggling six-year-old up and deposit her on the top bunk. “Count some sheep, kid,” he advises, flipping off the lamp and snagging Peter’s ruined pillow to toss in the laundry.

With Morgan situated, Tony guides Peter out of the bedroom and down the stairs. He leaves Peter to clean up in the bathroom before heading to the kitchen in search of some kind of painkiller that might work on an enhanced metabolism.

Eventually, Tony returns with a bottle of Tylenol-Codeine, a glass of water, and an apologetic look. “It’s the strongest stuff we’ve got here. Might take the edge off at least.”

Peter murmurs his thanks and takes the pills, mostly to humor him. They both know it’s a lost cause. He can burn through a dose of morphine in less than ten minutes; there’s no way over-the-counter meds are going to do anything.

“First thing in the morning, I’ll take you to see Bruce,” Tony promises. “We’ll get you on some antibiotics and something better for the pain.”

Peter just hums in response.

Tony sighs. “We can try a heating pad,” he suggests. “That helps Morgan sometimes.”

“Sure.” Peter shrugs, listless. He’ll do anything at this point to make his ear stop aching.

Tony locates the heating pad and gets Peter set up on the chaise section of the couch under a blanket with the heating pad resting on the pillow under his ear. It helps marginally, which is slightly more than Peter can say for the pills.

“Sorry, kiddo. If only you’d known me in the nineties,” Tony says with a sad chuckle. “Could’ve tried all kinds of stuff on you.”

Peter lets out a short, empty laugh. “Yeah, too bad. Sure May would’ve loved that…”

Tony settles down onto the other end of the couch and flips on the TV for distraction. After a bit of channel flipping, he picks a period war drama about a badass sea captain fighting during the Napoleonic Wars, starring Russell Crowe.

(It was that or “My Strange Addiction” on TLC, and neither of them felt like watching a woman eat a couch).

Peter doesn’t exactly sleep, but he closes his eyes and drifts in and out while the movie plays low in the background. He’s kind of queasy—probably a combination of the otherwise useless drugs and the low grade fever he’s pretty sure he’s got going—but it’s nothing too awful. At least the sounds of cannons firing and battles being waged on screen drown out the incessant ringing in his head.

He isn’t sure how much time passes before a new voice joins the mix in a stage-whisper:

“Are they gonna cut his arm off?”

Peter’s eyes snap open. He sees Tony dozing on the other end of the sofa, so he sits up a little straighter and turns around to look at the staircase behind him. Sure enough, Morgan is sitting on the fourth step from the bottom, just high enough to see over the couch to the TV.

“I thought you went back to bed,” Peter whispers.

Morgan shrugs. “Counting sheep is boring.” She stands up and tiptoes down the rest of the stairs and into the living room. “Are they gonna cut his arm off?” she repeats.

Peter looks back at the movie. The ship’s doctor is in the midst of a rather intense amputation scene on a young boy’s infected arm. “Yeah, looks like it,” he says through a wince. He should probably change the channel to something more child-friendly, but Tony’s got the remote balanced on his knee and he’s all the way on the other end of the sofa. Oh well.

Morgan nods at the screen, looking impressed. Then she looks back to Peter. “Does your ear still hurt a lot?”

“Nah, it’s not so bad,” Peter lies. “No need to cut it off or anything.” He scoots over on the cushion a bit. “You wanna sit here with me?”

“Yeah.” She nods and hops up onto the couch beside him, snuggling against his right side. “Did Daddy give you medicine?” she inquires.

“Yeah, he did,” Peter assures.

She nods approvingly. “And did he give you the heater thingy?”

Peter lifts the heating pad up slightly for her to see. “Yep.”

“Good.” She nods again. “And cuddles?”

“Eh…” His gaze drifting to his quietly snoring mentor, Peter smirks a bit. “I think I’m getting too old for those.”

“Everybody needs cuddles,” she says knowingly. Scooting a little closer to him, she wraps her arms around his waist. “See?”

A small smile creeps across Peter’s lips. “Yeah, I see.”

They sit there for a moment, Peter doing his best to focus on the steady pressure of the six-year-old’s gentle squeeze rather than the thumping in his head. It’s almost peaceful.

“Either that, or you need a stick,” Morgan pipes up, breaking the spell.

Peter’s brow furrows. “A stick?”

“To bite down on,” she explains, pointing at the TV. “Like the boy in the movie.”

Peter blinks, then shifts his gaze sideways to the little girl watching nineteenth-century field surgery technique with genuine interest.

“It’s so he doesn’t scream,” she informs.

Peter holds out his hand. “Just give me the remote, Mo.”

X

Link to all my fics

If you enjoyed this story, you might also like: Adventures at the Stark Lake House

[norealnameshere]

Arie Rambles About Text Hypnosis!

(A long writing/essay about what I’ve learned about text hypnosis and the stuff I commonly tell people when they ask about it. :3 )

I adore text hypnosis. I’ve had chances to experience all of the main hypnosis mediums (other than in person, text, voice, video being the others) from BOTH sides, as a tist and as a subject, and text hypnosis is still probably my favorite. 

It also seems to be the least known and least liked of all the mediums, and I’ve found myself writing and rewriting information about and defenses of it time and time again, and I had the idea to write up a neat little document to share and save myself some time. X3

In this (extremely long) piece of writing, I will mostly be addressing a lot of the questions and complaints I’ve heard from people when I tell them I do text hypnosis. The main parts will be a discussion of trance states, the complaints people tend to make, a list of advantages vs disadvantages (and some suggestions for dealing with them), and a bit about tips and tricks and advice from what I do and what I’ve done. X3

Before I begin, I still very much consider myself an amateur, please do not take this as straight fact, it is merely a writeup of my opinions and what I’ve experienced. (At the time of writing, I’ve been doing text hypno as a subject for about a year and a half, and as a tist for about a year.)

Introduction, mostly about kinds of trance states

A lot of the misconceptions about text hypno are at heart misconceptions about hypnosis itself - I’ve also done a LOT of working with newbies and introducing them to hypnosis, and I always tell them that the first thing to do is to toss away pretty much whatever their preconceived notions are. Film/tv shows/books and stage/street hypnosis are fun to watch, but what they portray are very specific ways of approaching trance - possible, yes, but not common in actuality.

The popular image of hypnosis is of someone going limp, eyes closed, unable to move, barely able to respond aloud. Or, as in many thriller/spy movies, someone hypnotized against their will, brainwashed and able to be set off with a single word to go do...whatever they’ve been programmed to do. And those are POSSIBLE, just not at all common. (The second usually requires a great deal of drugs and other bad shenanigans, but that would be another topic for another informational writing. Perhaps I’ll write on subject agency one day. Likely I’ll not. xD)

However, trance states come in a HUGE variety of appearances, and there are some that happen in everyday life, outside of hypnosis. The most common one mentioned is if you’re driving along and find yourself at your destination without really noticing the journey along the way. Another is reading a page of a book and realizing that you can’t really remember any of what you just read. ‘Zoning out’ is a type of trance state. I like to consider those uncontrolled trance states, and hypnosis and meditation guided trance states. (And the difference between those, to me, is like someone walking ahead of you and leading you down a path (Meditation) vs someone taking your hand and pulling you down a path (Hypnosis))

(I always tell newbies in a first session that if they feel lightly relaxed, I consider it a success. Like any other skill, it is something you can build on and deepen *pun intended*. ;3)

And people can trance differently at different times - most of the time I’m ‘down’, I’m just very still and seem to focusing intently on the computer screen, either waiting for words if its text hypno or listening for words if its voice or video. I have gotten to a point where I can go body limp, face blank, completely out of it levels of trance, but it’s not something that happens commonly, and not something I want to have happen commonly. I very much prefer the kind of trance state where you can listen and react and are in an incredibly suggestible state. ;3

Complaints and Misconceptions, Mentioned and Addressed.

WITH THAT SAID, let’s get back to text hypnosis. 

There’s a few major complaints and misconceptions about text hypnosis, and I’ll go through them one by one with the common points I make in response.

“Text hypnosis can’t be real, because in real hypnosis the subject goes completely limp and there’s no way they can type.” (This is an actual thing said to me by a supposedly trained and credited tist I was negotiating a session with. When I tried to say actually, that’s not true, he sent pictures of his girlfriend to ‘prove real trance looks like this’, and jumped down my throat when I asked if he had permission to do that. I’ve had some interesting people in my DMs in the past. xD)

- Those paragraphs up there about trance states? Yep, that, that’s how I usually respond. (Although I may or may not have gotten REAL detailed about some of the things I’ve done while under in text hypno when I responded to the interesting individual I mentioned. x3)

“I don’t understand how someone can type while they’re tranced.”

- Unless you’re someone who genuinely struggles with typing and has to consider every key as you press it, in general typing is not exactly an active thought activity. Most of the time you don’t go ‘I need to type yes, so I’m going to press the y key now, and the e key now, and the s key now. Often, you don’t even think ‘I am typing the word yes now.”, you just...think words and type them as you go, without even directly thinking about the keyboard.

However, it is also something you can work on making easier and more natural. When I’m working with someone new who is uncertain about typing while in trance, I will start by not making them for the first session, I’ll take them down, then bring them up again and check in on them and ask for feedback. I tell them that any questions they see during trance they can answer aloud or in their mind, whatever works well for them. When they’re comfortable with that level, I’ll start having them answer with a y for yes and an n for no (and make sure to ask only yes/no questions). We’ll work up from there as necessary. :)

“I hate text hypnosis because there’s no feedback.”

- I will grant that feedback is not as immediate as it is in voice/video/in person. You cannot hear or see the person and know, moment by moment, how they appear to be doing. However, there are many ways of getting feedback, and sight/sound are not the only ones by a long shot. 

Especially in a first session, I tend to do a series of short drops - taking someone down a little bit, bringing them up, and checking in on how everything is going, what’s worked well, what hasn’t worked as well, etc. Not only is this a good way of getting feedback of how things are going, it also serves to fractionate the subject a little. ;3

As you do more text hypnosis, you also get to know things to watch for - responses starting to slow down, grammar and spelling changing, fuzzy typing (oh gods, I love fuzzy typing~), etc. Having that history of what was typed means you can also have your subject read back over what happened and give you feedback based on that - I know quite a few people whose memories get fuzzy about what actually happened in sessions, but having that record can jog the memory and help them go ‘oh yeah, that happened, and this could have gone better, and...”

Sometimes I feel like it’s *better* feedback in the long run, because I can scroll back through the history and see what I’ve done in the past and how it’s worked. Since I started doing mostly voice hypno with my pets, I’ve missed having that record, because I have a terrible memory. ^^”

“Text hypnosis is fake, it’s all just roleplayers.”

- Sometimes, yes. Usually that’s something you can figure out if you make sure you have a good, thorough discussion and negotiation beforehand, to find out what everyone involved wants out of the session. If it’s something that really bothers you, make sure to include it in your list of questions.

I would say this is a VERY important thing to find out if it’s someone you’re planning on doing an extended number of sessions with, but that’s also the kind of person you should have constant ongoing discussions with anyways. (Hell, I’ve been with my tist and my pets for a long while now, and we still periodically have negotiations. Things change and need to be rediscussed. It happens. :3)

If it’s a one off session, well...at least you’re getting practice with your writing, right?

(I will update this from time to time with other frequent questions or complaints I hear or receive.)

Advantages vs Disadvantages

Now for something a little more fun! Advantages of text vs the other mediums, as well as disadvantages and how to overcome them. :3 (This is definitely a section I’ll update over time, as I think of more things to add. ^-^)

Advantages:

- One of the absolute best things about text is the record it leaves. Unless you record your sessions, voice and video and in person sessions are left only in the memories of the participants. In text, unless the place you’re typing in is deleted after a certain point (or if someone edits their text afterwards, tho’ that actually can be fun too, and I’ll address it later. ;3), you have this useful record of what you did, what was said. 

This is great for multiple reasons. The first and biggest one for me is how much it helps, considering my memory issues - I have a shitty memory, and forget things way too easily. On both tist and sub side, it’s great to be able to scroll back and reread what happened in a session. Second, rereading is a great way to relive and refeel those memories (especially if you miiiiight possibly have the ability to reexperience memories almost as strong as the moment they were made, coughcough) which is also hella good for conditioning. (;3) Third, it can be fun to link back to certain points or use bits of the written record against people. You can tease them with things they wrote, reference past experiences, or (and this is definitely absolutely completely hypothetical and not something I’ve had done to me at ALL, oh no. >.>) leave little ‘traps’ if you know they reread - “When you reread this, send ‘this message’ to me so I know you did, and then forget~” kinds of things.

This fact can also help if you have different schedules or are in different time zones, you can leave short written bits for the other, delayed action traps so to speak that go off when read - not as a replacement for active sessions, but a fun supplement. :3

- Related to this idea but in a different direction, you can create...hmm, kind of ‘homework assignments’ for a subject to read later, or read over and over again. VERY useful for conditioning, especially if you have a suggestion or an order of ‘once you have finished reading this, write [this sentence] to me to let me know you have read it.’

- Another HUGE advantage of text is privacy. I still live with my family and, while I have the benefit of a basement room, interruptions are common and curious ears are a possibility. For people who live with roommates or with bedrooms in the house closer to family members, privacy becomes even more critical. On the subject side there might be some visual signs of what’s happening, depending on what’s being done and how they trance, but overall on both sides it will just look like concentrating intently on the screen and typing, just like writing an email or visiting with people on a discord. 

As a side note to that, you can also do fun things like be innocently sitting in a voice channel with them, chatting with other people, while sending them suggestions or triggers in text, and watch them try not to react, try to resist. ;3

- Just like there are certain tricks only doable in voice or video or in person, there are things you can do in text that aren’t easily replicated in text. 

Just a few ideas off the top of my head are using formatting for various kinds of emphasis (italics and bold are great for helping to add ‘tone’ to your typing, strikethrough can be a fun way to tease someone or to say something you’re too flustery to admit openly, spoiler text can be used to tempt someone and trick them or trap them); italics can be used to denote ‘actions’, which some people either have or can develop the ability to ‘feel’; making use of brackets for different effects (anything I write within {these} you obey immediately and then forget doing is a big one. I’ve created an ability for like...the back part of my head to communicate with my tist even when the active part of my head is dropped, which is pretty useful to be able to go {hey, that thing you suggested got interpreted wrong and I’m kinda stuck now}, and report on things without having to actually come back up. x3); tying triggers or suggestions to emotes to have innocent seeming ways to play with someone or fluster them; and so many more. X3

- Text hypnosis is a godsend for people with hearing or speech problems. I have certain hearing issues that make it hard for me to hear people with certain voice pitches, especially when over a phone or a voice channel. It can break immersion and be frustrating if you have to keep asking for someone to repeat what they’ve said or repeat yourself for someone. You don’t have to worry about volume control or if your microphone is picking up everything you’re saying, don’t have to worry about people misunderstanding your accent, don’t have to worry that you’re mishearing something and responding in the wrong way. 

- One of the biggest reasons I love text hypnosis is the small amount of space I have to think about what I’m writing before I send it. I am WORLDS more creative with my phrasing in text as opposed to in voice, because I don’t have to worry about stammering or stuttering or hesitating while I figure out where I’m going next. Plus I have a tiny amount of time to change what I’m sending before I hit send, if I realize mid sentence that its not what I want to say. I can be thinking about the next line while I’m still typing the last one, but I can’t think of the next sentence while I’m in the middle of saying the current one.

- Seeing a whole page full of typed mantras is lovely, just saying. ;3

Disadvantages (and potential fixes!)

- Biggest one is lack of immediate feedback, which I discussed earlier. :3

- Those who aren’t as skilled at typing or reading may find themselves having some issues. One of the things that brings me out of trace the fastest is having to wait for too long - this is a major disadvantage for tists who are slow typists. ^^”

This problem does present more of a difficulty to get past than some, but I do have some suggestions to try. One thing I’ve done (and that can also be useful if internet flickers and having ‘buffering time’ so to speak, for ANY medium that uses the internet) is to account for that at the beginning with something like “If there is quiet for a moment, you’ll find yourself quietly rereading the last few lines you’ve received, each line you read helping to keep you calm and keep you deep.” or “Any time there is a pause in the words you read for more than a few seconds, you’ll find yourself focusing on [some spot on the screen].’ Specifically on discord, the ‘someone is typing’ message can be useful as a focus anchor.

I don’t approve of copy/paste text hypno in the most part, but perhaps if speedy typing is not something you’re good at, and if it’s a basic induction, AND if you tell your subject what you’re doing, then I could see using it to help make up for slower typing. It’s often easier to keep someone in trance with slower typing than it is to take them down in the first place. You could also possibly give them a written induction file to basically prime the pump. The key is to talk to the subject and find out which, if any of these options are potentially usable. (Also make sure you write your own induction, don’t just copy someone else script.) I would suggest being ready to throw in some in the moment typed lines as well, reacting to things the subject may say. Be ready to improv a little.

- This is more of a problem with manipulative, bad tists than with text hypnosis specifically, but a written record could be used against you (in the same way that someone could secretly record you in the other ways and then use them against you). Be very careful about what information you share with people, basic internet safety stuff, okay?

Also watch out for if someone edits or deletes that record in an attempt to gaslight you or mess with you. If that’s a concern, you can make backup copies of sessions to keep on your computer so you always have the original to consult. Most chat programs that allow editing will also indicate that the original has been edited, so that can also help.

And finally, a few tips and tricks I’ve picked up, basically things I’ve found fun to do, from either side. X3

Assorted Tips and Tricks

- Text is AMAZING for teasing. I am actually known and am infamous for my teasing (there is a server where I helped contribute to a week of so much teasing in general chat that they designated a separate channel for heavy teasing. x3) - I started dabbling in teasing for weeks before I actually tried my hand at any actual hypnosis. (Teasing is wonderful in voice, too, but I have noticed sometimes if someone is chatting normally, then suddenly throws out something teasing, it can be easy to miss it among the normal chat. It’s much harder to miss when it’s in text, especially if accompanied with an emote. ;3)

In text you can also leave teasing messages for someone to see later, maybe after they’ve gone to sleep, or while they’re playing games, or distracted in voice chat somewhere. Like a fun little trap they spring later, and you get a lovely ‘hfouiwenfkwje!!’ later. x3

It’s also fun to have ‘in jokes’, so to speak, and to slyly slip those words and phrases in with normal talking, and get people flustering that way. (For instance, if you use a certain kind of imagery to drop someone, like balloons, and then find ways to slide balloon references into your typing to remind a subject of that session.)

- Group hypnosis is a lot of fun - there’s a few places I’m in that have text channels that allow open hypno, and slyly twisting around the conversation and playing with words until you catch a bunch of people and set them drifting is fuuuun.

It’s also sometimes easier than in voice, because either you have everyone mute and you feel like you’re talking into a void, or you have a chaos of overlapping voices. In a group text session, you can often begin with something like ‘the more you see others type the same kind of responses you do, the more the phrases affect you.’ I have seen cases where you have almost group mantras going on, and the people involved said seeing the others typing definitely added to the experience.

- If you DO have an opportunity to do voice at least once, or once in a while, you can make use of that to add to your text hypnosis - I have some people I have done BOTH with, and they said that they were pretty quickly able to ‘hear’ my voice in my typed words - I actually try very hard to match my written style to my talking style for that very reason. :)

I also have a few emotes that apparently really resemble expressions I’ve done in video before, and I can make use of those emotes to evoke memories of those expressions, and things I’ve done while grinning just THAT way~ ;3

Conclusion

So!

Almost a month after I started and many pages later I am done with what was supposed to be a quick little writeup of ‘things I tend to tell people when text hypnosis comes up’, and knowing me I will continue to edit and add to this as I think of new things.

However! It is done for now, and I hope my rambling was useful as well as entertaining. :3

I am more than glad to expand upon anything I’ve written, my DMs are open for questions or you can track me down in a discord server and ask there, I’m in a few different ones. ^-^

[sanghyukstattoos]

Baby (Part 4)

Characters: Lee Sanghyuk I Dawon x Reader 

Genre: Fluff, smut (dom!reader, sub!Dawon, oral sex where F receives and M gives, little bit of spanking)

Parts:  .1. .2. .3. .4. .5.

Summary: Letting Sanghyuk heal and recover in the comfort of your home, you returned home with a particular question in mind, thoughts of your dampening arousal swirling your mind all day.

A/N: Heyyy!!! Guess who’s back with a part 4? Welp, if this isn’t the cutest relationship ever that you’ll probably be reading more about in part 5-

For the next few days Sanghyuk behaved well and you weren’t as swamped with work as before. You were able to return home at normal times to Sanghyuk and pay him all the attention in the world that he deserved. You’d usually find him on the sofa, watching TV while laughing heartily at something one of the characters had said or under the covers, playing some games. 

Tossing your keys on the table, you removed your shoes, feet aching from the long day at work. You couldn’t deny how adorable Sanghyuk was as he bit his lips and furrowed his eyebrows in concentration. Today also happened to be one of those days where the more he did it, the harder you found it to hold yourself back.

‘‘Hey babie’‘ ruffling his hair as sat down on the sofa next to him. You smiled as he looked at him and murmured a ‘‘hey’‘ looking back at the screen. You leaned in close, whispering into his ear, ‘‘When you were naughty a few days ago..’‘ and that was all it took to catch his attention. 

Looking at you with inquisitive eyes, he patiently waited for you to continue, ‘’I wanted to use your pretty face to pleasure myself but-’’ eyes widening at your words.

‘’To hold your head back’’ tugging his hair gently so that it was enough to show him what you meant, ‘’and slip my cunt over your lips as you ate me out’’. ‘’But I never got to do that’’ pursing your lips. 

‘‘I guess there’s no other way to say this: Pleasure me and just maybe, I’ll reward you’‘ eagerly nodding at your words. His words were far less today meaning that he was unlikely to act in any way that would result in a punishment.

Removing your suit jacket and trousers, he watched as you pulled your panties down leaving you in one other piece of clothing. When you did this, he knew what it meant: you were going to use him and his cock grew harder at this thought. 

Laying down on his back, he watched you settle your already dripping core over his mouth, waiting for your signal to touch you. ‘’Go ahead’’ and his hands immediately found your back while he swiped a tongue over your folds, tasting your sweet essence. 

Being able to eat you out made him feel rewarded and he wanted to do a good job in making you feel that way. Rubbing a finger over your clit, you moaned at the sensation of his warm tongue hungrily lapping at your juices. 

His hot breath fanned over your core as he went to insert his muscle into your entrance making you lurch forward, holding onto the arm of the sofa. 

Rocking your hips back and forth, he kept up with your pace, growing harder at the high- pitched whines that left your mouth. It meant that he was doing a god job and he continued, licking your walls and trying to find your sweet spot. 

His mouth was glistening with your juices as he took in all of you. Pressing a kiss to your folds, he covered your walls with tongue wherever he could. The tip swiped over your spot and he left that area in search of another. 

‘‘Go for it baby’‘ you encouraged him, running your fingers through his hair. He hummed and vibration ran directly up your spine, whines falling your lips at the added pleasure. 

You gasped as you felt your lower stomach tighten with each slurp that he drew. Your arousal grew as he continued with no idea that you were about to release. Rubbing your clit, he leaned away to press a kiss to your inner labia and your tightness loosened, spilling your cum all over his mouth and throat. 

Riding his face, you released for a few more seconds, gradually slowing down your pace. Standing up, you cleaned yourself with a wet wipe and dressed yourself. He hadn’t moved but his eyes carefully watched you, waiting for a command. 

Standing over him, ‘’Clean your mouth’’ and he swallowed your cum, tongue swiping to eat the excess around his mouth. Taking some from his throat, you pressed it to his lips and he opened his mouth, gladly licking your hand. 

‘‘That’s a good boy’‘ you remarked and his cheeks lit up at the compliment. You smiled as he sat up and then you saw his aching cock that you were pretty sure was dripping already against the confining material of his joggers.

‘‘What shall we do about you huh?’‘ you asked, going to collect your stuff. He reached for your extended hand as you made your way to the bedroom. ‘‘Wait for me’‘ he pouted at your words. ‘‘Do I have to wait?’‘ he asked and if it wasn’t for how cute he was, you would have corrected him already. 

Pinching his cheeks, you nodded, ‘’Be naked and on the bed, waiting’’ obediently trudging to the bed. You smiled as he turned around, patting his butt in encouragement. 

Sanghyuk stripped his clothes and laid on the bed, propped up on his elbows face up. He patiently waited, wondering when exactly you were going to come out and then started shaking his leg, feeling impatient when a couple of minutes had already passed by. Usually you were quick to change but you took your time today feeling jittery.

You were excited at the prospect of making him wait when all he needed was you to come and sit on his cock. Walking out, he immediately straightened, attention on your clothed body and then it struck him, why were you dressed? 

Confusion apparent, you held back a laugh at his confused state saying, ‘’Even I don’t know why I changed’’. He looked at you in disbelief and you laughed, his thighs shaking at the thought of having to wait for nothing. 

‘‘Awww’‘ you whispered, stroking his cheek, ‘‘There’s no harm in waiting’’. Not hearing a reply, you lightly smacked his ass causing him to jolt, snapping out of his thoughts. 

You went to strip but not before harshly smacking his ass and hearing him whimper as you said, ‘’Pay attention’’. He shook his head in agreement and spread his legs for you, resting his head on sheets. 

Climbing on top of him, ‘’You ass- I just want to keep hitting it’’ remarking, positioning him at your entrance and sinking onto his cock. He moaned as he felt your warm walls hug him, a contrast to the air of the room while you gasped as he filled you. 

Bottoming out in you, you wasted no time in rocking your hips and drawing moans from the both of you. The sounds of pretty, choked moans filled the entire room, feeling his hands roam your chest and squeeze your breasts.

Entwining his arms above his head, you lifted yourself and sunk onto his cock a loud moan leaving your lips. He was in absolute bliss, whining for you to move faster. He gulped as you thrusted your hips, moving at a fast pace.

"Do you want to cum?" and he whimpered at your question vigorously nodding his head as he looked at you. "Yes please", your eyes softening at his manners. His eyebrows were knit in pleasure and he kneaded your breast and ass, wanting to feel all of you.

Biting your lip, you slapped his nipple saying, "Take over" and for the first time in a while, this was his chance. He hasn't been able to make love to you and neither did he have complete control but it was enough for him to pleasure you.

Shifting your positions so that he was above you, he propped himself up on his palms and thrusted into you as your hands found his ass, spanking the soft flesh. He gasped as he felt a jolt of electricity run through him while you moaned, feeling his cock pummel in and out of you.

"Good boy" hearing this, he absorbed the compliment, increasing his pace. He lingered above your lips and you could smell the scent of your cum on his lips. Pressing your lips to his, he responded with enthusiasm, soaking up the kiss.

Nuzzling his face into your neck, you felt your arousal pool around your core, making it even easier for him to thrust into you. His tip hit your cervix, putting all of his strength into his thrusts as he watched your mouth fall open in intense pleasure, feeling proud for being the only one to make you feel like that.

As he nuzzled his cheeks between your neck and shoulders, you knew that he was going to cum and without any warning, he did. Seeing how he wasn't really able to ever tell you before he came, you let it go. Your legs spread wider at the warm, liquid feeling of cum inside your walls that was a lot and at once.

He sighed in relief at the built up feeling that released and slowed down his pace but reached in between your bodies to rub your clit. You pressed your hips down onto his cock and he whined at the overstimulation but continued like an obedient sub. Between his cock and rubbing your clit, it didn't take very long for you to cum after him, juices painting his cock that was still in you.

He pulled out of you and laid beside, pulling you into his chest. You hugged him but as soon as you did, you heard your phone buzzing. You groaned at the and reached out for the phone but he held onto you tighter, not willing to let you go.

‘‘I’m switching it off’‘ you gently spoke and he acknowledged it by loosening his grip, allowing you to reach for the phone and turn it off. Going back into his arms, the two of you laid there as the sky behind you streaked in shades of fuchsia and violet indicating that the sun was beginning its slow descent back to make way for the night. 

‘‘What’d you spend your whole day doing?’‘ you asked him, genuinely wondering if he was okay staying at home for long periods of time without you. ‘’Watching, eating...’’ trailing, trying to remember the last time he had a productive day. This is when you realised that the both of you hadn’t spent a lot of time together lately. 

‘‘Are you okay without me at home?’‘ he hugged you tightly at the question, ‘‘I want you’‘ and your heart ached, frowning at his words. ‘‘Then let’s spend some time together’‘ his eyes lighting up at your words causing you to smile at the change in attitude. ‘‘If you can, take some time off, say, then we can go somewhere and I already have a few places in mind’‘ he spoke 

Your fingers danced around his ass causing him to let out a surprised gasp when he felt a squeeze. Bringing his head into the crook of your neck he wrapped his arms around you as played with his hair, hearing his soft breaths.

‘‘Where do you want to go?’‘ you asked and he replied, "To go to the zoo? Or see the new carnival in town or, a fancy fast food feast’’. Rubbing the pads of your fingers over the soft flesh of his ass, you held him in your arms, asking, ‘’What’s a fancy fast food feast?’’. ‘’Ah, it’s where you buy fast food and pair it with something fancy- like wine’’ he replied, already thinking about getting drunk with you. 

Understanding the basic concept, you asked, ‘’But we can put our own spin to it, right?’’

[diyunho]

The Joker x Reader - “6 Feet”

With the scary events unfolding lately all over the world, Gotham is under lockdown also. The Joker and his girlfriend are self-quarantining at the Penthouse: needless to say entertaining him it’s no easy chore but thankfully Y/N can handle any type of situation. Probably…

Batsy

You almost drop your coffee mug when you see The Joker dangling outside the railing from the second floor of The Penthouse.

“What are you doing, J??!!!”

“Pumpkin, wanna bet I can land on the couch from here?” he flares one arm in the air.

“It’s too far off, you’ll never make it!” you mentally calculate the trajectory.

“Pfft, bullshit! If Batsy can do crap like this, so can I!”

“You don’t have the gear and training, J!”

“Gear??!! Training??!! I don’t need that; I’m not a wimp!”

“Fine, go ahead and break your neck!” Y/N gives up on the already lost cause. “How much are we betting?”

“50,000 dollars.”

“You got yourself a deal Mister Joker,” you take a sip of coffee, annoyed his desire for chaos is already surging to unspeakable heights after being trapped inside for the last 3 weeks.

The King of Gotham flexes his knees a few times for equilibrium and… here he goes: barely misses the couch, one leg gets caught on the night stand and BAM! Lands on the floor with a loud thud.

“Uugghhhh,” he groans in pain flat on his back. “Y/N… I think I fractured my limbs.”

You slowly approach and ignore his complains, pointing out the truth:

“You owe me 50,000 dollars. And if you fractured your bones, I’m going to strangle you on the spot because there is no way I’m taking care of a stubborn patient!”

The Joker makes an extra effort to react at your ultimatum:

“Excellent news, Princess. I can move my toes!”

You roll your eyes and extend one of your arms to help him up. 

“Lucky indeed, J. Are you doing this for attention?”

“Gotta keep the flame going, Pumpkin,” The Clown whizzes up a storm, trying to catch his breath following the glorious bungee jumping without a rope.

Baldy

Supposedly J is in convalescence, thus he wanted a haircut. You are both watching TV in the living room, your boyfriend sitting on a chair while you shape the locks behind him.

You start laughing at the funny movie so your hand slips: the trimmer shaves a patch of The Joker’s fabulous green hair, leaving him with a beautiful quarter sized bald spot.

Oh, shit!

He has no idea his perfect groomed style it’s butchered; better to ride this crazy train until he notices. You comb what you can from the longer strands on top of the mess you created, lying without blinking at his question:

“How did it turn out?”

“Impeccable, baby! My flair and precision regarding detail is through the roof,” you boast full of confidence.

The Heinlein Maneuver  

You’re tossing bullets at J, attempting to make them land in his mouth.

“Wow, you’re getting pretty good at this!” Y/N praises and he suddenly chokes. “Oh my God!” you panic. “Spit it out! Spit it out!”

You run behind him and start The Heinlein Maneuver which you had to learn in order to repeatedly save The Joker as a result of this being one the couple’s favorite games to play.

One, two, three… Pfuuu, there it goes: the bullet flies out of him!

The King is taking a few moments to recover whilst you impatiently want to find out what he saw this time: whenever he has these near death experiences he sees weird stuff.

“What was it this time?” you curiously inquire.

“I saw Batsy naked,” he exhales full of spite. “That asshole is totally invading my privacy!”

“Naked?” your entitled smirk makes him lose it. “Was he circumcised?”

“Excuse me??!!”

“A girl can be curious,” Y/N defends her inquiry.

“Listen here, woman! The dilemma you should be quizzing me about is if I saw his face so we can identify him!”

“Well, did you?”

“Nope.”

“Then it’s irrelevant.”

“I nearly died Princess! All I need right now is mindless fornication to aid with my rehabilitation,” the strategist in J blurs out.

“You did this to get laid?”

“Gotta keep the flame going, Pumpkin!”

6 Feet

You sneezed twice in a row and The Joker has suspiciously watched you like a hawk since.

“Do you feel sick, Pumpkin?...”

“No, it’s my allergies,” you blow your nose in a tissue and cough due to a scratchy throat.

“Are you sure?...”

“Yes, you know I get like this at spring time.”

“Hm…” J huffs. “I don’t think we should risk infection, I’m too important for this town. I say you take the south part of The Penthouse and I’ll reside in the west. Don’t come any closer, stay at least 6 feet apart just like the regulations stipulate. You can move in the room across from the master bedroom.”

“Huh?!” the baffled Y/N pretends she didn’t comprehend the words. “I have allergies, J!!! ALLERGIES!!!!”

“6 feet Pumpkin! Don’t make me repeat myself!!”  

Booty Call

You got mad and moved into the other bedroom; I guess The King wants to be safe from your allergies because that’s what you have and nothing more. Does he ever listen to reason? Nah, that would be a first.

You’re reading a book when your cell phone goes off: an invitation to chat from your man.  Across the hallway…Yup…

“Pumpkin!” his face pops on the screen. “I wanna have phone sex!!!!”

“No,” you immediately cut him off, annoyed.

“What do you mean no?! I’m about to blow a gasket over here!!!!!!!!!”

“I don’t care what happens to your gasket Mister Joker, as long as you keep it 6 feet away from me!!” and you hang up.

“How dare you, Princess?!” he shouts at your defiance. “I’ll open an account on PinchMyButt and I’ll pick another partner to tend to my overloaded system!”

“Be my guest!” you snort at his rudeness since you can actually hear him to start with.

PinchMyButt.com

One of the most popular online dating/hook up websites. Period.

The Joker uploaded his profile one hour ago and instead of being flocked with pinches like he thought, there’s no activity besides users flagging the account for “inappropriate content”. Members reckon it’s distasteful to have someone pretending to be The Clown Prince of Crime searching for a match; they have no clue it’s genuine.

Another hour passes by… zero pinches.

J is getting pissed.

30 more minutes… Ding! The app announces.

“Ha!” he triumphantly yells. “Somebody pinched my butt, Pumpkin! Oh, she said I have nice nipples and a cute bald spot! I don’t have a bald spot! Who is this?!” he investigates the blog name: iHaveAllergies69.

Rings a bell: you kept on telling him this plus his girl preferred sex position…

“Pumpkin, is that you?!” The Joker shrieks.

“Yeah!” you admit from the other bedroom. “I felt sorry for you!”

“I don’t want your pity! Unpinch me! Wait, my account just got suspended: due to a large number of objections, you’re account has been terminated. What the hell?! What am I supposed to do now, Princess?“

“Dunno, you’re the one that wanted us to be apart and it’s an excellent rule! I’m enjoying my isolation; you should do the same.”

“How can you enjoy confinement?”

“I’m having fun!”

“Without me?! Impossible! I put the fun in dysfunctional!”

Boinky

The elevator’s doors slide and Frost strolls inside carrying a box.

“Not a step further!” J mumbles taking the safely off his pistol.

He misses threatening people thus when the guys bring food and supplies to The Penthouse he tries to shoot them.

“What’s in there?” he gestures towards the cardboard container.

“Not sure, sir. Y/N ordered it online.”

“Open it!” the stern order leaves no room for hesitation.

Jonny rips the scotch tape and removes the pink, fluffy toy.

“What the heck is this?!” The Joker frowns at its shape.

Frost analyzes the plush item and it clicks.

“Boss, I think it’s a…”

“PUMPKIN!!!!” The Clown interrupts.  “Why does this atrocity resemble my crown jewelry???!!” he screams you as you show up in the living room.

A super excited squeal:

“Boinky arrived!!!” and Y/N rushes to get her package. “Toss it! Toss it!!” you wave your arms and Jonny does as required. “I need something to cuddle with since you kicked me to the curve,” you finally address him.

“And you couldn’t find a teddy bear?!”

Flame

The Joker barges in your bedroom while spraying around with disinfectant mist:

“Pumpkin, this is the biggest emergency Gotham has ever faced!!!!” he frantically takes his clothes off and you jump because you just fell asleep 5 minutes ago.

“What is it?” you snuggle with your fuzzy trinket.

“Goddamn Boinky!” your boyfriend snatches the toy and flings it out the opened window.

“What are you doing?!”

“I’m about to explode, woman! That’s what!!! My online dating was abruptly halted by unforeseen factors so I have no choice,” he viciously starts yanking at you tank top. “I either risk contamination or I blow a gasket and that means kaput!”

“I have allergies,” you frown and J tugs at your shorts in a hurry, irritated.

“Exposing myself like this!” he continues bickering and Y/N can’t help it:

“Just like Batsy did?”

The King gasps, appalled you twisted his near death experience vision in such a hasty manner.

“Unacceptable!” he pulls you under him and your eerie grin prompts doubt: “Hold on! Did you purchase Boinky to intrigue me and made sure I can’t blow my gasket anywhere else with the sole purpose of having me crawl back to you?!”

Y/N innocently kisses the tip of his nose, whispering:

“Gotta keep the flame going, baby.”

 Also read: MASTERLIST

You can also follow me on Wattpad and Ao3 under the same blog name: DiYunho.

[bkbricks]

Best Way To Watch The Star Wars Saga

The Star Wars films and tv shows came out in an odd order. First off, Episode 4 was the first episode to be released. Odd, right? Of course, it was released as a single film and not called “Episode 4: A New Hope”; instead it was simply titled “Star Wars”. After Episode 4-6 were released, Episodes 1-3 were released many years later. This, of course, can be be confusing to some, and make watching the movies in order a bit difficult. Which order? Should you watch them in chronological order, or by release dates? Below I have listed the best way (in my opinion) to watch all of the Star Wars Saga. This list not only includes each Episode, but also the other movies and even tv shows that came out and add further to the entire story.

Of course, you could add in some other pieces of content to further enlarge the story, adding in even more detail to it. You could read the comics (for example the Darth Vader Comics). You could also add in some video game campaigns (such as the Main Story in Battlefront 2). This list below is simply for the films and tv shows, for those only meant to be watched. So sit back, grab some snacks and prepare for this very, very long Star Wars marathon you are getting ready to begin.

The Phantom Menace

The first film you should watch is “The Phantom Menace”. This is the beginning of the story. In fact, George Lucas (creator of Star Wars) even teased about titling Episode One “The Beginning”, but ultimately went with “The Phantom Menace”. This where Anakin Skywalker’s story (the largest of any character in the entire saga) begins. The overall story of the 6 Episodes focuses on the prophecy of the Chosen One, and this where that story begins.

Attack of the Clones

Next up, you should watch Episode 2: “Attack of the Clones”. If you are a fan of “The Clone Wars”, then this movie is a good one to watch as an intro/prequel into the Clone Wars. After all, this is the movie where the war begins. It takes place ten years after Episode 1, and follows Anakin’s story well. And, of course, “The Clone Wars” is up next, which this episode and that show tie in well together and this episode leads right up to it.

The Clone Wars

“The Clone Wars” tv show picks up about one year after the events of “Attack of the Clones”. This is the first tv show you should watch in order, after the first two episodes. You can learn so much more about the Clone Wars that Episodes 2-3 do not cover. There are seven seasons, and you watch them all in order. Many episodes of this show also focus on and even extend the story of Anakin Skywalker, which is a neat tie-in.

Revenge of the Sith

After you make it through the seven seasons of “The Clone Wars”, watch Episode 3: “Revenge of the Sith”. This film is amazing, and ends the first two episodes and the tv show very well. “Revenge of the Sith” and the seventh season of “The Clone Wars” actually take place at the same time in the story, which is pretty neat and gives you two perspectives on the same time period. This is a pivotal series of events for Anakin Skywalker as he embraces the dark side.

Solo

Six years later, “Solo: A Star Wars Story” picks up. This film portrays the Empire in its earliest days (so far). It focuses on Han Solo, who we will see again as a main character in the original trilogy. Watching this movie before Episodes 4-6 gives you a great backstory on not only Han Solo, but also his co-pilot Chewbacca and his ship, the Millennium Falcon. It also gives you an introduction (in the storyline) to the Galactic Empire.

Rebels

After “Solo”, the tv show “Star Wars: Rebels” picks up, about nine years later in the story. This show has only four seasons, and you should watch all four in order for the full story. Here we can see the Rebellion before it became an organized alliance. Here we focus on a rebel cell, with some returning characters from “The Clone Wars” tv show. The Rebellion has not yet organized, but soon will while these rebel cells deal with the Empire in small, but courageous, acts. In the story, this is where Darth Vader will make his first appearances in combat.

Rogue One

Rogue One offers an amazing transition into the original trilogy. It takes place around 3-5 years after the “Star Wars: Rebels” fourth season ends (except for the season finale, which takes place immediately after Episode 6). Here we get to see a key part of the Rebellion’s plan to destroy the Death Star. In the original 1977 Star Wars movie we saw this plan executed, but never knew how the rebels got the Death Star plans in the first place. Luckily, Rogue One filled that gap, and even leads directly into Episode 4. Literally, Rogue One ends about an hour before Episode 4 begins. Also, the rebels have organized by now and are officially the Rebel Alliance.

A New Hope

So an hour later and we made it to “A New Hope”. This is the original Star Wars film released in 1977. Most of the films/tv shows on this list came about in the story before this film, which is interesting (and great for the prequel lovers). The Galactic Civil War is now in full effect as the Rebels fight the Empire. This is where Luke Skywalker’s journey really takes off, as well as more screen time with Darth Vader. With the Death Star plans, the rebellion attacks and destroys the battlestation, showing the galaxy just how mighty they have become in their fight against the Empire.

The Empire Strikes Back

Episode 5: “The Empire Strikes Back” begins three years after Episode 4. Since the destruction of the Death Star, the Empire has been relentlessly searching for the rebellion to wipe them out. Before, the Empire did not see the Alliance as a huge threat; but now they do. Between Episodes 4-5, Darth Vader learns that his son lives and it begins to pull him back to the light. Episode 5 sees Vader searching for his son, Luke, and after he springs a trap on him, he reveals that he is his true father. Now that Luke knows the truth, he must decide on his future whether he will destroy his father for the rebellion or join him on the dark side. Also, Han Solo is frozen in carbonite towards the end of this episode. He remains this way until the next film.

Return of the Jedi

One year later, Jedi Knight Luke Skywalker sets out to unfreeze Solo and rescue him from Jabba the Hutt. Then, Luke decides to search for his father this time. He believes that he has felt the good in Vader and can bring him back to the light. While the Rebels fight the Empire on Endor, Luke reconnects with his father and attempts to bring him back to the light side, to return the jedi in him. This episode finished off the main story/Anakin’s story presented all the way back in Episode 1. It all comes to a close here. You could stop here, as this is where the main story concludes. However, there is one more show you could tune in to if you’d like the complete saga and want to continue your already-long Star Wars marathon.

The Mandalorian

We finish off the saga with “The Mandalorian”, a live-action tv show based on a bounty hunter. This show does not have much to do with the main story, but does take place five years after “Return of the Jedi”. Instead, we get to see what happen to Mandalorians. They were present in “The Clone Wars” and “Star Wars: Rebels”, however now we can see how much they have changed and had adapted to the tyranny of the Empire. But now that the Empire is gone, we see how parts of life in the Outer Rim are hanging up, as well as some cool scenes of the New Republic. There is currently one season of this show, with season two expected to be released this October.

Once you have watched “The Phantom Menace” all the way through to “The Mandalorian”, you have officially seen the entire Star Wars Saga. I have purposely left out the sequel trilogy and tv show attached to it simply because I do not believe they fit into the entire saga. My previous post explained why I believe this, make sure to check it out! Thanks for reading!

[taehyungiestummy]

Stuck -- Chapter Four

Masterlist     Previous     Next

Word Count: 3713

           “Finally, alone with my girl,” Taehyung runs a hand up my sock clad let, stopping at the bottom of my skirt. “And she is overly cute in her outfit,” he tenderly smiles.

           I smile back, “It is nice to be back with you, Tae. Lying in a hotel bed after a crazy day. Just catching up on the months we have been apart.”

           “Thank you for surprising me today. It really cheered me up. It’s been hard for me these last few months. I’ve needed you, and all I could get was a Skype call. Now, you are never leaving my side again.”

           “I never want to leave you again,” I scoot closer to him, placing a hand on his chest. “I have never had such a low dip in my mental health than the first few months we were way. I can’t go through that again,” I feel a few tears run down my cheeks.

           Taehyung pulls his hand off my thigh and brings it up to wipe the tears off my face. “Let’s talk about something else so you don’t cry.”

           I chuckle, “Well, I better warn you about something then.”

           “What’s that?” He runs his hand over my hair. “Is your hair shorter?”

           “Just a tad,” I bring my hand away from his chest. “Now, for my warning. I’m going to start my period soon, so I might be a little off for a few days.”

           “Aw, my princess is going to be in pain. I’ll take care of you, and get you everything you need. Then once it has passed,” he smirks, sending a wink my way.

           “No, we will not,” I roll my eyes. “Hormones always running through you.”

           “Fine,” he pouts. “Hopefully we can go shopping before it hits. I didn’t buy any painkillers or pads.”

           “I have new painkillers now. They do a much better job, but I can pick out my favorite pads.”

           Taehyung giggles, “Sorry, this isn’t funny.”

           I giggle with him. “It’s strange, but I love that we can talk so openly about it. Oh, also, when we go shopping, I want to get sandals like you have.”

           “Really?” He smiles that boxy grin. “You have really cute toes like me, so they will be perfect on you. They aren’t traveling shoes, really, but that’s okay.”

           “We can get so many couple items, and when we travel we can match.”

           “Yes. We have to do that. No couple will be cuter than us.”

           “Can I ask you a cute favor then?”

           “If it is cute and coming from you, ask away.”

           I lower my head, avoiding my boyfriend’s gaze. “So, you know I can’t read or write Korean. I’ve been wondering if you could teach me.” I shake my head, “Sorry if you think that’s stupid and you don’t want to. I know we both will be super busy, so I will understand if you say no.”

           “Oh my god,” Taehyung sounds so giddy. “Yes, of course I will teach you,” he tickles my sides so I will look up at him. “Plane rides, train rides, car rides, and whenever else we have free time, I will teach you. When we go shopping, we can buy books and such to help with it.”

           I try my best boxy smile, “Thank you, Tae. I look forward to you being my teacher.”

           “Practice for when I have to teach our kids.”

           “If you can teach me, you will be able to teach them.”

           “Did you try to do my boxy smile a little bit ago.”

           “Maybe,” I feel my cheeks heat up.

           “You are so cute, jagi,” he taps my nose. “Do it more. I love it, and I have only seen it once.”

           I chuckle, “You just saw it. How do you love it already?”

           “I love everything about you, so I love it. Even if that was the first time I have seen it.”

           “That’s sweet.”

           “I’m beyond excited for you to see our apartment. Yoongi was actually the one who found it, since it is in the same complex.”

           “Really?” I can tell my face has lit up in happiness. “Yoongi-oppa will be close by. I bet he wanted that. Our dogs will be friends!” I burst into giggles.

           “They will be,” Taehyung chuckles along with me.

           “Is our apartment big? Fancy? I want to know.”

           “You will see it very soon. It is not that big, but still a nice size. In a nice part of the city. Allows pets, of course. Big bedroom, lovely kitchen. You will love it.”

           I tenderly smile, my hand landing on his chest again. “I’m sure I will. I would live with you anywhere.”

           “Do you think we should take a nap so we will be awake for the train ride home?”

           “One last question, and I’m sorry if it lowers the mood.”

           “What is it?” Taehyung is concerned.

           “How is your grandma?” I look him dead in the eye. “I want to see her before we get busy.”

           “She’s been better,” Taehyung pulls me closer to him, not breaking eye contact with me. “I don’t know what is going to happen. I don know you’ll get to see her soon. Next week, actually, before we leave for concerts. It’s one of my cousin’s birthday. You get to meet my extended family.” He somberly smiles.

           “Like, a lot of people at one time?” I take a deep breath. “Sounds like so much fun.”

           “I’ll be right by your side the whole time. No need to stress. You can even hang with my sister. All my cousins are really young too, so anything you do will impress them.”

           “I do like kids,” I muse.

           “Good,” he kisses my nose. “I want a lot.”

           I lightly slap his chest. “What has gotten into you? You are being so forward.”

           “Well, I know you are the one for me, so I just want to tell you while we are alone. Do you not want kids?”

           “No, that’s not it,” I sigh. “I want kids so I can treat them the way that I have always dreamed about. I will spoil them. It’s the fact of having kids that is going to be difficult.”

           “Why?” Taehyung is genuinely curious.

           “No,” I close my eyes. “I don’t want to talk about it right now.”

           Taehyung places his hand gently on my cheek. “I’m sorry princess. We don’t have to talk about it right now.”

           I relax into his touch, opening my eyes. “Thank you.”

           “What do you want to do now? I’d love a nap.”

           “I think you have some promises you told me other the phone that you need to fulfill.”

           He smirks, “I do. We’ve been alone for a while now. I’m sorry that I have neglected you. Let me fix that,” he pushes me onto my back, hovering over me in seconds. “I love you.”

           “I love you, Tae,” I lovingly smile. “Here is to us.”

           “To us,” he connects our lips to seal the deal.

********

           “This is our apartment,” Taehyung pull keys out of his pocket. “Today we will spend time unpacking, and then go shopping.”

           “Open the door, please,” I bounce on my toes. “I need to see the inside of our home.”

           He chuckles, “Okay, okay. I’m opening the door.” He quickly slips the key into the lock; the sound of it unlocking the greats sound I’ve heard all day.

           The front door swings open, and the two of us enter into a small front room area. There’s a small table off to the side against the wall, a bowl on top.

           “Look, this is where we put our keys,” Taehyung drops the apartment key into the bowl.

           “Is this a closet?” I walk over to a door a few feet from the front.

           “It is. Open it up,” he shuts the front door.

           I open the closet door, smiling at the sight before me. On the ground is a combination of Taehyung and mines shoes, and hung up on the racks are our coats.

           “Like it?” Taehyung wraps his arms around my middle from behind. “We have a good collection of shoes.” He kisses my cheek.

           “I’m so excited to see the rest of this place,” I slip my shoes off and slide them into the closet. “I love this. I could look at this for hours.”

           Taehyung slips his shoes off, picking me up to slide his shoes into the closet. “I hope you don’t mind me opening all your boxes to locate certain items.”

           “That is completely okay. I kind of wanted you to get some things out.”

           “Then let’s head deeper inside,” he gives me a squeeze, but does no place me back on the ground.

           “Carry me into the house,” I giggle, closing the closet door.

           Taehyung turns right, takes a few more steps, turns left, and takes multiple steps to enter the open living room and kitchen area. The kitchen is directly in front of us. Against the wall to the left is most of the countertops and all the cabinets. A stove-oven combo with a microwave above it is in the middle of the counters, and a fridge is to the right of it separated by some counter. I spot a toaster, Keurig coffee maker, and a blender on the counter. A couple feet separate an island from that part of the kitchen. From my spot, the right side of the island is a bar with two stools, while the left has a sink and dishwasher.

           “Next to the fridge is a panty,” Taehyung walks over to the island. “It has some appliances that I didn’t think would look good on the counters, but if you want to swap things out, go for it. Of course, food is in there, and a bag of dog food.”

           “Ahead of the game. Such a man,” I swing my feet a little bit.

           “I am older, so I have to act like it sometimes. Doing this was one of those times.” He turns right to face the living room.

           “Where are the dog food bowls?”

           “On the other side of the island. That door leads to a small balcony with a table and chairs.”

           I look over at the door on the wall now to the left of us. “Just what I needed.”

           “Is the living room okay?”

           I turn my focus to the living room. A ‘L’ couch is against the walls farthest from us, and a square coffee table is in the middle. There are end tables with lamps on both ends of the couch. On the same wall I can reach out and touch to the right of me is a flat screen TV with a few boxes nearby. Everything fits snuggly in the open area.

           “What’s in the boxes?” I wiggle in Taehyung’s grasp.

           “Video games of yours, and books,” Taehyung answers, setting me down. “I didn’t have time to set them up. The video game consoles, that is. The table the TV is on can only hold so much, as well. We need a bookshelf,” he rests his chin on top of my head. “We can buy one today.”

           “It is lovely,” I duck so Taehyung’s chin is off my head, and then turn to face him. “You did a good job, Tae. Everyone has been perfect for me.”

           “Thank god,” he gives me a chaste kiss. “Let’s move on to our bedroom.” He grabs my hand, pulling me through the living room and to a door near the TV. “Ladies first,” he pinches my sides.

           I giggle, “Such a dork.”

           “The king.”

           I push open the bedroom door, taking a moment before stepping into the room. “The bed is huge!”

           “So you like it?” Taehyung laughs.

           I run and jump onto the king sized bed. “Love it!” I roll around a few times before sitting up.

           Taehyung has his boxy smile on his face, a look of pure love in his eyes. “My heart is beating so fast because you are too cute.”

           My cheeks are hot in seconds. “Lots of boxes in here. I hope we have enough room.”

           The bedroom isn’t anything fancy. Two end tables are placed with one on either side of the head of the bed. One medium sized window shines light into the room. This whole apartment actually has a good amount of windows to have natural light.

           The bed dipping as Taehyung climbs onto it brings me make to reality.

           “The tour isn’t over, princess,” Taehyung has crawled right up to me.

           “What’s left?” I lean forward to touch my nose to his.

           “Walk in closet and bathroom,” he moves his head to kiss my nose.

           I grab each of his ears between my thumb and forefingers. “Hurry up with it then. I want to mess with your ears.”

           “My big cute ears,” he tickles my sides, causing me to squirm away from him.

           “They are just a tad big, but I love them all the same,” I slide off the bed. Now on the left side of the room, I notice two doors.

           “That door right in front of you is to the bathroom,” Taehyung gets out of our bed. “The other is to the walk-in closet. It is just a square full of our clothes. Nothing special, yet, I guess.”

           I turn the doorknob to the door right in front of me, pushing it open to see a nice bathroom on the other side. To my right is two sinks and then the toilet. On the far end of the room is a shower, and a tub to my left.

           “The washer and dryer is back near the front door,” Taehyung comes up behind me. “After the first right, if you turn right again, there’s a door there. The washer and dryer sit inside.”

           “Perfect. This is perfect,” I turn around to wrap my arms around my boyfriend. “Thank you so much for all of this.”

           “You’re welcome, jagi,” he wraps his arms around me. “How about we unpack the stuff we have here. I know Nari will be bringing more stuff over soon. Then we can go shopping. I really want to drive you around.”

           I smile, “Sounds like a wonderful idea. Let’s get to it.”

********

           “This is so nice,” I smile, sliding into the booth after Taehyung. “All of us together again, eating amazing Korean food.”

           “It’s good to have you back,” Seokjin pulls Nari closer to him. “Both of you girls. Those ten months you were gone were weird.”

           “That’s an understatement,” Yoongi ruffles my hair. “It was shit, and that is the truth.”

           I giggle, “You’ll never have to worry about us leaving ever again. We are here to stay. I don’t want to feel like my heart has broken ever again.”

           “That sounds terrible,” Jimin nudges my foot with his. “Is your heart better now?”

           “Of course it is, she’s with us now,” Jungkook smiles at me.

           “Kookie is right,” I lean into Taehyung. “The second the plane touched down in Korea, I felt so much better. Like a weight was lifted off my shoulders.”

           “I could tell how bad you were in at the beginning of the school year,” Nari says. “You put on a mask for the Skype dates we had, but I could see through it all. My poor hurting cousin.”

           “As the summer came closer, her emotions made a turn for the better,” Emily adds. “It was so uplifting to watch it happen.”

           “Did you keep your sadness to yourself?” Namjoon asks. “I never heard anything about it.”

           “Mostly,” I shrug. “I didn’t want to worry you guys. I’m a big girl, and I had Emily. Yoongi-oppa heard about it, and I cried to Tae. It slipped out to everyone; I think.”

           “Well kid, you have to tell us all about how you are feeling from now on,” Hoseok grins at me. “Can you do that? We want to help you no matter what.”

           “For sure,” I nod. “I’ll be as open as I feel necessary.”

           Our waitress steps over, and Seokjin is quick to order what we need. That motherly instinct coming through, but I bet he would order anyways because he’s the oldest. Either way, it makes me feel warm inside.

           “So, Amber, you have something you would like to tell the boys, correct?” Nari looks over at me.

           “What’s on your mind, little one?” Yoongi pokes my side.

           I glance over at Yoongi, “It’s nothing big, I just think you guys should know.”

           “You have a tattoo,” Jimin blurts out.

           “She hates needles, so no,” Taehyung wraps his arm around my waist.

           “So that’s a no on the ears being pierced,” Namjoon chuckles.

           “Yeah, hell no to that ever,” I chuckle. “This is nothing like that.”

           “So spill already,” Jungkook bounces in his spot.

           “I am,” I stick my tongue out at the maknae for a few seconds. “So, my knowledge of certain topic has been expanded. With it, I understand myself even better. I, um,” I nervously giggle. “Screw it. I am pansexual. There, I said it.”

           “Pan…sexual?” Taehyung looks down at me.

           “Pan, sex, wait, you have sex with pans?” Hoseok shockingly asks.

           I laugh, “Not going to lie, that is an overused joke, but coming from you Hobi, I loved it.”

           Hoseok goofily smiles, “So I was wrong?”

           “Very,” I sit up. “Emily, if you would please explain.”

           “Gladly,” Emily smiles before diving into the explanation she gave Nari. Halfway through our waitress comes back with our food and drinks, but other than that, Emily is uninterrupted.

           “That changes nothing,” Yoongi grabs my hand. “We still love you. You are still the Amber that writes poems to let your feelings out.”

           “You are still the Amber who is terrible at first-person shooters,” Jungkook smiles.

           “You are still a cutie who loves plushies,” Jimin giggles, lifting his shoulders up as he does.

           “Still the Amber who reads as much as she can,” Hoseok smiles. “A cute nerd with her cute glasses.”

           I absentmindedly mess with my glasses.

           Taehyung tilts my head up with a few fingers under my chin, so I am looking into his eyes. “You are still the girl I fell in love with, and want to spend the rest of my life with. I love you for all you are, and all you aren’t.”

           I blink back the tears, “I love you, Tae. I love all of you guys and girls.”

           A quick kiss is pushed to my lips before Taehyung and I face back to the group.

           “Cutest couple ever, no debate,” Emily giggles.

           “Stop,” I whine. “Emily is such a tease now because she thinks I had a crush on her at some point, and I refuse to play into her game.”

           “Did you?” Namjoon seriously asks.

           “No,” I pick up my chopsticks. “I never did. Not my type,” I smirk.

           “Not Taehyung enough,” Yoongi gives my hand a squeeze before letting it go.

           I chuckle, “That’s it.”

           “So, does Emily have something she needs to tell us?” Seokjin shoves some food into his mouth.

           “What makes you asks that?” Nari ruffles Seokjin’s hair, but ends up fixing it so it looks nice.

           “Every time Amber has a big thing to say, so do the rest of you,” Hoseok takes a sip of his drink.

           “I do have something to tell you all,” Emily accepts the food Namjoon is holding in front of her face.

           “You girls plan that,” Jimin points at Emily and then me. “That’s almost too cute.”

           “We do plan it,” I smile as I open my mouth for the meat Taehyung has held in front of my face. “This is so much better than that Korean place our classmates took us to.”

           “Story?” Jungkook looks at me with puppy-dog eyes.

           “Let Emily tell us her news first, Kookie,” Yoongi takes a small bit of the food on his chopsticks, and then shoves the rest in my mouth.

           “Thanks Yoongi,” Emily smiles. “Well, it’s not as deep as Amber’s news, but it does concern traveling and such for me.”

           “Are you pregnant?” Hoseok looks at Emily with wide eyes.

           Jimin, Taehyung, Namjoon, and I burst out into laughter.

           “Oh, goodness no,” Emily shakes her head. “That is not the reason why I won’t be traveling with you boys as much.”

           “What’s up?” Seokjin calms the laughing down.

           “I got a job,” Emily smiles. “I’ll be working with Nari, kind of like her assistant.”

           The congratulations go around as Emily’s cheeks redden. She’s kept this hidden even from me.

           “I’ll be going to KCON, but everything else I have to be back here,” Emily twirls her chopsticks. When I’m gone, you all have to take good care of Amber for me.”

           “We will,” Taehyung squeezes my thigh. “She will never be out of our sight. I can promise that. Well, besides when we are on stage.”

           “I can promise that as well,” Yoongi ruffles my hair.

           “I’ll miss you,” I pout for a second. “But, these seven boys will make up for it.”

           “How about you tell the story of the Korean restaurant,” Emily encouragingly smiles.

           “Oh yeah,” I giggle as Taehyung feeds me once again.

           “Some of your classmates took you out for a meal at a local Korean place,” Jimin recaps what I’ve already given away.

           “Yes,” I nod. “They wanted to cheer us up. We were homesick, and I agreed to go because I thought it would help.”

           “It didn’t,” Jungkook sighs, knowing where this is going.

           “Not one bit. The food was more American than Korean. Like how Chinese food is over there. No one spoke fluent Korean either, besides the owner. It made me so sad.”

           “The owner liked talking with us, though,” Emily says. “He was a very nice man. I would have gone back there just for him.”

           “Overall, I didn’t have a good time, but I would never tell my classmates that. I ended up in a bigger hole than I had going in. It had me longing to be here even more.”

           “Well, let’s eat this fantastic food, that isn’t American at all,” Yoongi pokes my side. “And make you as happy as can be.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

A bit of a longer chapter, but it felt right. Anyways, hope you enjoyed reading, and I would love to know what you thought! :D

[thecostumevaultblog]

I was tagged by the absolutely lovely @petegoestotown

Rules: answer 10 questions, tag 10 people and make another 10 questions.

⭐️My Questions⭐️

1. Favourite album?

Like, it changes every half a year. I get obsessed easily… Right now it’s Harry Styles’ Fine Line, but I’ve also been absolutely obsessed with Fleetwood Mac’s Rumors, and Green Day’s American Idiot. I’m very eclectic in my taste…and a bit ashamed of the fact, to be honest.

2. Who were you in a past life?

I like to think I was Elisabeth of Austria (Sissi). You know the type, glamorous, rich and miserable. But, knowing my luck, I probably was just a fisherman’s wife who died of malnourishment and bad medical care during the delivery of her fifth child or something like that.

3. Airdrumming or airguitar?

Definitely airdrumming. I’m traumatized with guitar playing… and that’s a way too long story for today.

4. Where would you travel in time if you could?

Realistically, back to 2012 and go through collage again. Those were fun times.

But for funsies sake, Spain in the 1550’s just because I love the women’s fashion and England in the 1880’s for pretty much the same reason.

Big gowns are literally the only reason anyone would persuade me to go back in time. I’m pretty sure that at whatever point I went back I would end up either being burned at the stake for heresy, hanged for witchcraft or sent to an asylum for “hysteria”. I’ve never been a lucky gal.

5. Do you play a sport? Which?

Satan, get away from me! I hate all and any sports and have made a life goal never to play one.

6. What weird food combinations do you enjoy?

I don’t have any… I think. I’m pretty vanilla with my food choices. The only thing I seem to love that all non-mediterraneans I’ve meet seem to think it’s disgusting is olives. But that’s not a food combination.

7. Do you think aliens exist?

Yes, probably. But I doubt they're even remotely similar to humans. They are probably bacteria or something like that.

8. Who’s your favourite stand up comedian?

I don’t really have a favourite, because I don’t watch much stand up comedy, but I loved the bits I saw Trevor Noah do.

9. What movie or book do you know the most quotes from?

Anything by Shakespeare. I am shit at remembering book quotes. But my memory is not so bad with film. So, also Lord of the Rings, Cyrano de Bergerac and anything from the Disney Animation Studio.

10. How old were you when you had your first celebrity crush and who was it?

I was about 9, and it was Orlando Bloom. I promise it was all very innocent and pure... I was really young. *So embarrassing*

my questions ~

1. what would you put into your own created salad?

Oh, I do this all the time. I love this salad: lentils, tuna fish, olives, sweet corn, cherry tomatoes, grated celery, grated beet, crab sticks and mozzarella. It’s amazing!

2. what would your call your garage band?

Loudly Whispers

3. which planet has the prettiest name in your opinion (in our solar system)?

Mercury. Don’t know why…

4. night mode or day mode on your phone?

Day mode! Night mode makes the screen look too green for me. It’s too much like the Matrix!

5. what was your fav childhood series?

It was an animated show called “Papyrus”. It was a French production, but it got translated to a bunch of different languages and I used to watch it in Catalan on TV. I just loved Ancient Egypt growing up…

6. what was the worst book you ever read voluntary?

50 Shades of Grey. Before you lose all respect for me… it wasn’t exactly voluntary… My aunt gave it to me as a present because “you said you like to read!” and I thought that it would be nice actually reading the book and be able to criticize it knowing the full extend of the thing.

7. if you could only ever eat fish or meat, what would you choose? (if youre a vegetarian:high five)

I couldn’t be a vegetarian… I would say fish.

8. if someone gave you a DVD with all the times people talked about you behind your back, would you watch it?

Oh dear! Oh dear! Don’t do this to me. I would throw it away only to get drunk thinking about what must be in there and proceed to fish it out and cry-watch it while intoxicated. And then be depressed and hating myself for watching it for a month.

9. pen or pencil?

Pen

10. whos your fav tumblr blogs? send them a nice message!

@tourdeforced, @tallulalusa, @thehowlingghost, @petegoestotown, @23-tiny-wishes, @kitty-rushes-in, @elleisforlovee, @vendelaberglin, @nails-n-glam, @weloveperioddrama, @lalilaloli, @pristina-nomine

I adore all of you and make me smile every-time you post! <3

my questions:

1. did a book or movie change your life or majorly shifted your views on a topic?

Not so much changed my life or my mind on anything… but I was really shaken after watching the James Baldwin documentary I Am Not Your Negro. Like, it showed me nothing new or nothing that I didn’t think already, but it phrased it in such a poetic and yet poignant way that it absolutely shook me to my core.

2. you’re allowed to dress in the style of one youth culture only for the rest of your life, which one do you choose?

The depressed Goth… I wanted so bad to be Goth, but my mum wouldn’t let me buy the pertinent clothing to achieve it.

3. what type of gifts do you love to receive?

I’m so picky with gifts… because my taste is so niche and I’m obsessive with the most obscure things that people sort of tend to miss the mark. Still, with that in mind, I love to receive films and books as gifts, because even if it’s not about whatever topic I’m currently fixated on, there’s always something of interest in them.

I hate being gifted knick-knacks, I want thinks that allow me to find something in them.

4. do you know your MBTI type?

MBTI? What is that? Well, I guess that definitely answers your question.

5. would you like to have dinner with a time Traveller from the future or with your favourite author?

Favourite author. I don’t want to be told how humanity ends.

6. would you run your country for a year?

Nop. Not a chance. I would be terrified of being unable to fix the things I think need to change. And I’m terrified of messing up.

7. which piece of art would you like to own?

Shit. Every single one of them?

If I had to choose one, though, it would be Velázquez’s Las Meninas. Such a shame it wouldn’t fit my apartment.

8. do you have pet peeves?

There’s people who don’t? I hate when people bend the page on a book to mark it. I hate when people invite themselves to my house. I hate when people leave things out of their proper place… and many, many more.

9. which fictional character is a lot like you?

I don’t really know…mmm… I’ve been told Monica, from Friends. I’ve been told a lot I look like Leia… But I would say, Alma from The Phantom Thread if she used sass and self-depreciating humor to hide her vulnerability. Don’t really know what that says about me…

10. a quote you’d like to share:

“I will no longer mutilate and destroy myself in order to find a secret behind the ruins.” Herman Hesse

💖 MY QUESTIONS 💖

1. What’s your favourite thing to do alone?

2. What’s the thing you always carry in your purse?

3. A book or a film that stayed with you long after you finished it?

4. Have you ever gone to the movies and payed to watch a film you knew wasn’t worth it?

5. If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go?

6. What’s the one food you can’t live without?

7. Period dramas. Yay or Nay

8. What thing in your daily routine would you pay not to have to do?

9. What was the one thing you had to cancel due to the Covid Crisis that made you want to throw a tantrum?

10. What language would you like to learn?

@petegoestotown this was FUN! Thanks! I’m currently very bored and this is the perfect entertainment! Lots of love and don’t stop tagging me!

Now, the part that makes me sort of uncomfortable… I tag the usual people @tourdeforced, @tallulalusa, @thehowlingghost, @23-tiny-wishes, @kitty-rushes-in, @elleisforlovee, @vendelaberglin, @nails-n-glam, @weloveperioddrama, @lalilaloli, @pristina-nomine, please feel free to ignore me if I’m tiresome. Also, everyone else who wants to participate!

[myforeverforlife]

strike me out.

For @trishmarieco Jongdae + 87. “That’s my ex-boyfriend/girlfriend.”  “Well, kiss me so they see.”

Masterlist

To say that you had just gotten through a horrible breakup was an understatement. Your relationship with your ex-boyfriend had started out as many romances do: mutual interest, followed by the sweet, honeymoon period where it seemed like the other person could do no wrong. Unluckily for you, this honeymoon period had ended rather abruptly once you found out how easy it was for him to get jealous, especially when it came to Jongdae.

You had explained to him time and time again that you had no romantic feelings for Jongdae — he was your best friend. This was the truth, and everyone around you knew it. Years of late-night sleepovers and shared car rides to school had resulted in a tight-knit bond, both of you practically able to read each other’s minds. But your boyfriend was convinced that there was something more, if not on your part, then from Jongdae’s.

But no matter how many times you told him that there was nothing going on, that Jongdae would never make a move on you, your ex remained unconvinced. In a completely shitty move, he had told you to pick — either him or Jongdae. Seeing as your ex was already driving you up the walls with how obsessive and needy he was, the choice was easy. Plus, there was no way that you would throw away your friendship with Jongdae, no matter who you were dating.

Now a week later, you’ve still been stewing in your feelings about how much of a jerk your ex was. Lucky for you, tonight Jongdae had talked you out of getting drunk and suggested a night of bowling instead. You had been extremely hesitant at first, just wanting to wallow in your feelings, but your best friend would have none of that.

Although you hated to admit it, after a few minutes, you were more immersed in the game than thoughts of how much you hated your ex.

Jongdae jumped up from his seat as your ball cleanly knocked down the remaining five pins in your turn, giving an exaggerated groan. “You’re killing me here, Y/N. I thought you were bad at bowling.”

“That was in middle school, Dae. I’ve had lots more practice since then. Hey, wait. Did you bring me bowling cause you thought you’d win?”

“Honestly, no. This was the first thing I thought of when you texted me. But hey, you said you wanted to do something to distract you, and here we are!”

“Uh, yeah. I’m definitely distracted by how much you suck at bowling.”

Jongdae glared at you, the effect less scary and more cute, like that of a kitten’s. He went over to the ball return and picked up the bowling ball he had been using, the sphere colored a garish macaroni-orange and covered with neon green spots.

“Dae, did you really have to pick the ugliest ball?” you called out to him.

“Don’t hate the ball, hate the game. Plus, you won’t be dissing me when I start piling up strikes.” The tip of his tongue poked out of his mouth as he concentrated, lifting the ball up with both hands and staring at the lane ahead. Jongdae exhaled deeply, then took a step forward. His arm swung low as he released the ball, his hind leg stretching out behind him. Both of you watched with bated breath as the ball rolled, rolled down the lane and straight into the gutter.

Jongdae groaned in frustration while you got caught in a fit of giggles, shaking your head in disbelief. Your laughter only grew louder when he scored another gutter ball immediately after, despite the determined look on his face.

“New rule: you can only trash talk if your skills live up to the hype,” you said between bouts of laughter.

“Just wait until next turn.” Jongdae glanced up at the TV screen, his score of 15 contrasting with yours of 27.

“Uh huh, sure.” Your bowling shoes tapped against the wooden floor as you passed by Jongdae to pick up your bowling ball. Unlike Jongdae’s, yours was on the muted side, the entire ball simply colored magenta.

Jongdae watched from afar, one leg crossed over the other while he stretched his arms across the back of the bench he sat on. His other foot tapped impatiently against the floor, although you couldn’t hear it among the noise of music blaring through the bowling alley and the cheers of other bowlers in the lanes beside you.

Your current strategy was just to build up as much speed as possible and to aim for the center. Most of your bowling failures as a child were due to the fact that you hadn’t been strong enough to throw the ball so that it would zoom across the floor. Even when you grabbed the lightest ball, you still had trouble avoiding the gutter. It was because of these failures that Jongdae, equally as competitive as you, would spend every bowling outing for birthday parties by your side trying to teach you how to bowl. While his lessons hadn’t done much for you in middle school, they were surely paying off now.

Taking in a deep breath, body extending as you readied yourself. Your arm swung back behind you in a low arc, and then came swinging back to the front as you took a few steps, releasing the ball with ease. You rocked back and forth on the heels of your feet as the ball barreled down the lane, getting closer and closer until it hit the right side.

You squealed with joy as more than half of the pins fell over, leaving a small group on the left side for you to knock down. Turning around, Jongdae met your expectant face with a proud grin and a thumbs-up. When it came to losing to you, he still managed to be the sweetest person ever.

Just as you were getting ready to knock down the remaining pins, a loud chorus of mixed conversations broke through your concentration. Instinctively, you turned around to see what the source of the noise was. At first, you only noticed a large group of college students like yourself at the counter getting their bowling shoes on. Something about them seemed all too familiar, however, and you stared a bit longer. One figure straightened up from where he had been tying his shoes, adjusting his baseball cap.

“Oh fuck,” you muttered, the bowling ball in your hand almost slipping to the floor.

“What?” Jongdae asked, turning around as well. It didn’t take long for him to spot your ex-boyfriend. “Shit,” he exclaimed, just as taken aback as you were.

“That’s my ex-boyfriend,” you said to no one in particular, trying to make sense of what you were seeing. Luckily, he hadn’t seen you yet. He was still talking to the other people in his group, most likely from a club he was in.

“You wanna head out?” Jongdae asked, nodding towards the front doors.

Shaking your head, you swallowed down the lump in your throat. To leave the bowling alley, you would have to return your shoes and walk past the front counter anyways, inevitably leading to an awkward encounter with your ex. “Is it too late to try and hide under the benches?” you said sarcastically, voice weary.

Jongdae was still looking for an escape route, eyes narrowing as he spotted the long line to the restroom. “You can’t hide in there either. Shit.”

“I’ll be fine, Dae. Really.” Despite your words, you could feel the anxiety and anger welling up in the pit of your stomach. Seeing your ex here, on a night that was supposed to be your escape away from any thoughts of him felt quite literally like a punch to the stomach.

“You’re shaking,” Jongdae said as he stood up. He loosened your grip on the bowling ball before taking it from you and placing it back on the ball return. “Sit down.”

You let Jongdae drag you over to the bench, your back to the counter and your ex. “What if he sees me?” you asked, eyes shaky as you fought the urge to take a quick peek behind you. “I don’t even know what he’s said about me to his friends, god.”

Jongdae’s eyes hardened, still looking past you and glaring at the group. “Well, kiss me so they see.”

“What?”

“Kiss me. He won’t be able to see your face.”

“Dae, I can’t just kiss you the entire time that he’s here.”

Jongdae’s pupils shifted, and you made a move to glance over your shoulder before he stopped you. “They’re walking over here.”

“Fuck. Okay, whatever, just kiss me.”

“What?” Jongdae’s eyes widened.

“You’re the one who suggested it! Now hurry up and kiss me before — ”

Jongdae’s was kissing you before you could even finish your sentence, his nose bumping into yours. You gasped at the sudden contact, but soon enough you were kissing him back, your hands pulling him closer by the front of his T-shirt.

All too soon, Jongdae was pulling away, slightly out of breath as he studied your face for your reaction. He grinned upon seeing that you were just as flustered as he was before glancing back over to the group behind you. His smile turned smug, lips curling at the corners playfully as he took delight in what he saw. “You’re not gonna like this, but I’m pretty sure he knows it’s you.”

“What?!” You couldn’t help it, and in a second you were staring at the same spot. Sure enough, your ex was frozen in surprise, his mouth settling into a frown when he saw that it was you.

“You okay?” Jongdae asked from beside you, his arm wrapping around your shoulders.

“Yeah. Actually, I think I’m ready to go.”

Nodding, Jongdae got up and held a hand out to you. His fingers wove in between yours as the two of you began the treacherous walk over to the counter.

Your ex didn’t even spare you a glance as you passed by, pointedly looking away and starting up a conversation with the person next to him. It gave you a small boost of confidence to see that he was just as antsy around you as you were around him.

Jongdae held your hand again after returning the bowling shoes, swinging your joined hands back and forth as you walked out to the parking lot. “That went better than I expected.”

“I know. I thought he’d try and pick a fight right there.” You exhaled, all of the stress and adrenaline wearing away. Now you were just extremely relieved,  and maybe a little curious. “Can I kiss you again?”

“What?” Jongdae paused, eyebrows jumping up towards his bangs.

That hadn’t been your first kiss with Jongdae.  Growing up together, there had been multiple occasions where you had locked lips. Most of them had been during birthday parties where you and your friends hid away from parents to play spin the bottle or truth or dare, or when you and Jongdae had been in kindergarten and too young to understand the entirety of what a kiss meant.

This kiss that you just shared had been different, a new spark of emotion jolting between both of you and making it hard to separate.

“I want to kiss you again,” you reiterated as you stepped closer, Jongdae’s face directly in front of yours. “If you’re okay with that.”

“Of course,” Jongdae gasped out. “I mean, uh — ”

You covered his lips with your own, giggling to yourself when he made a small noise in surprise at the sudden contact. He held you close to him, hands on the small of your back as you braced yourself against his chest. You could feel the small rumbling in his chest as he hummed in delight, and you started to laugh, your giggles breaking the kiss.

“What?” Jongdae asked, your laughter infectious and making him giddy as well.

“You were literally purring.”

“I don’t purr,” Jongdae pouted, sneaking a few more kisses to your nose even as you continued to giggle. “I’m not a cat.”

You raised an eyebrow, lifting one side of his lips with a finger. “I don’t know, these lips look pretty feline to me.”

“Can we stop talking about me being a cat for a second and go back to kissing?”

“Save it for when we get back, I’m not gonna make out with you in a parking lot.” 

Jongdae was quick to drag you over to your car, your laughter filling up the silence in the quiet parking lot.

Your night out with your best friend to forget your ex had worked out successfully, even better than you had even hoped for. And of course, it didn’t hurt that you fell for your best friend along the way.

A/N: wow, writing this brought me back to many birthday parties in middle school and elementary spend at the bowling alley (it was always either there, or chuck e cheese LOL) but I hope you all enjoy this!

[adventuresloane]

i left a light beside the bed for you

Read on AO3

Dani/Aubrey

Rated T

Raffle Prize for @desiree-harding-fic

@tazprideweek

"This feels...normal," says Dani, chewing on a three-inch nail.

Aubrey pauses. Her thumb stops gently rubbing over and over Dani's knuckle, and only then does she notice that she's been repeating that same gesture the whole time, absent-minded. She remembers that she has to pee. Truthfully, she's sort of had to pee for the past hour, but kept refusing to make the fifteen-foot trek from the bed to the bathroom. It would mean overcoming her inertia enough to leave the comfort of the soft duvet, and it would mean her bare feet on the cold tile, and it would mean no longer holding Dani's hand.

"Good normal or bad normal?" she asks. She can hold it.

"What do you consider 'bad normal'?"

"Well, you know. Like boring. I feel like normal things are usually boring." She shuts her mouth, then, and swallows. Is this boring? Was she bored?

"Well, I wouldn't call  you  normal," Dani answers, and her grin makes the freckles on her cheek shift.

Aubrey glances at the box of nails. "I wouldn't call you normal either."

"I guess not. I was just talking about...this." She goes quiet after that. Both of them are submerged in the hum of the mini fridge and the air conditioning. Aubrey looks away and holds onto the air inside her mouth, just behind her closed lips. Dani, she has learned, is the type to get her words all in order before she says them. She has also learned--is still learning--not to interrupt the process by blurting whatever comes to mind, which, as it happens, is her usual response to silence.

If she stares at the ceiling long enough, it starts to look fuzzy. Like there's a grainy film of static over the surface of the plaster. It makes her think of mist outside a window, of the big old tube TV that had sat in the living room of her house for her first few years of life and that had tingled warmly when she pressed her hand to the screen. Everything feels a bit fuzzy now, maybe because it's 3AM. Everything feels warm and a bit familiar.

Finally, Dani says, quietly, "This is what I imagined it would be like if...if things had gone differently."

Aubrey shifts to nuzzle underneath her chin and nods slowly against her, lips brushing her neck. "I know what you mean." As she says it, she knows that it both is and isn't true.

Aubrey had always been good at getting used to things. She had to be, in order to drift in the way she did, navigating unfamiliar towns and faces. The novelties of the new places she visited, the disorienting change of scenery that made her pay attention to everywhere she went, things like storefronts with shells in the windows and residents who all still referred to fridges as "iceboxes"--all these things turned into background noise before long, things she stopped seeing. Sometimes, she thought she was too good at adapting. Boredom always lumbered up behind her, would glom onto her if she stopped moving for too long. Her general rule of thumb was that if she managed to memorize the major street names in the latest podunk little place where she had settled, it was time for her to move on. She'd go and do her best to shake off any moss she had gathered.

So, typically, she wouldn't have chosen to stay in Kepler for as long as she was. But getting accustomed to monster hunting, moon-activated portals, and her own actual magic was its own kind of challenge. This, she guessed, was the new normal, this hotel and these people. But she was used to that too. Her life had been full of new normals the past several years. It had become normal for her, at the end of a long day, to crave the protein kick of a cheesesteak sandwich from a roadside stand, when before she had hardly ever touched meat and a fig and pear salad had been her favorite meal. Hell, it had become normal to be homeless.

Being unable to sleep through the night had been normal for awhile. It was fine, whenever she lay down to close her eyes and instead felt her heart running too fast and hot for her to relax. In that case, she just threw off the sheets and went for a walk anywhere.

While most of the lodge's halls were familiar to her by now, they were harder to navigate in the darkness. She got turned around and backtracked a couple of times. That was alright. Nobody was up to see her fumbling around at this hour of the night, or, rather, the morning.

Or that was what she would have assumed, until she wandered into the kitchen.

The first thing Aubrey noticed about her was what she always noticed, which was the fact that she was gorgeous. The second thing was that she looked as if she'd just been caught in the act. Frozen in shock, she stared wide-eyed, with her arms wrapped around a stack of take-out boxes freshly plundered from the open fridge. She hunched over it awkwardly, like an Igor in an eighth-grade production of  Frankenstein,  her chin pressed on top of the pile to steady it. All in all, there was a certain frantically-stockpiling-squirrel-in-autumn quality about her, which, Aubrey knew well, could only derive from the early-morning munchies.

This was to say that, for once, she looked like even more of a hot mess than Aubrey. Given that up until now, she, with her lithe body and smell of fresh earth, had resembled more of a fey creature than a person, this came as a strange relief. So she was human after all! Or, well, not human, but capable of imperfection. On the other hand, it just so happened that Aubrey was currently wearing a Snoopy-themed nightgown that she hadn't bothered to wash in a month and almost surely had a comical case of bedhead, so it wasn't like she was winning the Dignity Olympics.

Fuck. She'd been staring.

When Aubrey finally kicked her brain into gear enough to speak, her voice sounded an octave or two higher than normal. "Hi! Hey, uh, Dani, sorry to walk in on you like that! I hope I didn't freak you out, I was just--"

"Are you supposed to be down here?"

"Oh." Dani had said it quickly enough to make her jolt back. The sound was loud and bounced off all the chrome in the large space, hitting her like an accusation. Within moments, the tips of her ears felt so hot it was a wonder that they did not ignite. "Sorry, I, um, I can go--"

"No! No, I..." She exhaled heavily and placed her bundles on the chrome countertop. "Sorry, that was rude. You don't have to leave."

"Oh," she said again. "I mean, it's fine, though. I can if you want."

"I don't. Really. That, uh, wasn't what I meant to say." Dani glanced away and did not elaborate.

"Oh," she said, and now this was getting ridiculous, and she thought about how much she really ought to think of something better to say, quick, before this got to be any more awkward than it was, which was hard, because the only thought running through her mind right now was Don't blow it.  

"I love your--"

"I love your hair," Aubrey said almost simultaneously, then quickly added on, "Sorry, what were you saying?"

"The same thing." Dani breathed out through her nose, something that was not quite a laugh but approached it. When she grinned, her canines showed, noticeably longer than her other teeth, disguise or not. That was kind of hot, though she couldn't say why. "And...thanks, but there's nothing special about mine, I don't think. I just like the way you dyed yours."

"Yours is really pretty, though! It's cool that you're able to keep it that long and still have it look nice. And you've always got that, like, strategically disheveled thing going on. Like, you don't even need to look in the mirror every morning and it still just looks good."

Dani blinked at the end of her rambling. "Well...I don't have a reflection, Aubrey."

Well, dunk. "Right! Right, 'cause, vampire, so you're--right, sure."

"I mean, it's not just me. It's something about the human disguises. Don't ask me how it all works--the disguises are made of illusion magic, and I guess they interact with light in weird ways. It happens in pictures and video too. Sometimes we just show up blurry, but my form's never shown up at all."

"So, wait, but how do you know what you look like, then?"

"I kind of don't?" She shrugged. "I know some things, obviously. But not so much what my face looks like. At least, no more than you know what your voice sounds like if you never hear a recording of it."

"Wow. That...that's kind of a shame."

"I mean, it's whatever. It's not what I really look like anyway."

"Yeah, sure." Her fingers tapped rapidly against the pad of her thumb as she considered. "But like...would you like to know? What you look like, that is. I mean, I could try to tell you, if no one else has."

Her eyebrows shot up, in what, thankfully, looked like curiosity rather than judgment. Aubrey accepted that as an okay to stay for a bit, seating herself on the metal of the kitchen counter, cold even through her clothes. Dani hopped up to join her.

The inherent problem with this idea, she realized too late, was that she would have to look Dani in the eye for an extended period of time, and, as it happened, the last time she had done that, she had nearly started an all-out bonfire in the middle of the lodge. All she could do was try to think cool thoughts, which, of course, made it more difficult to give a decent answer. She kept tapping her fingers together, this time to snuff out the tiny flames she felt budding at the ends of her fingertips. "Well..."  Don't just say 'cute.'  "You kinda look like Florence Welch."

Dani's mouth quirked upward, and a half-second later, giggles came up out of her. She turned so that her expression was half-hidden by the curtain of her hair, but not before Aubrey saw the way the smile changed her whole face, softly crinkling and brightening her eyes, lifting her slightly sunken cheeks. She looked lighter, somehow, than she did before, and it had nothing to do with the kitchen fluorescents. With some of the tension gone from her chest, Aubrey went on, "But, like,  Lungs  Florence, you know?"

"I can live with that," she chuckled. "I like most Florence + the Machine."

"Me too! I'm doing a bad job of this, though. Fuck. Um, you've got a sharp jaw and a square chin. Your nose is kind of narrow. Green eyes, but you probably already knew that. A really nice, light green, though. Kind of--hang on, don't blink for a second. Kind of like...duckweed? No, shit, I was trying to come up with a good plant simile but I fucked up."

"Oh my god, please keep going. You're doing great."

"Like matcha, then? Yeah, I'd say matcha. Okay, sorry, we can stop having a weird staring contest now."

She laughed softly again, then quieted, eyes cast downward. Then, without warning, she reached into her back pocket. She flipped through the pages quickly, but Aubrey still saw, flitting before her, the gray graphite faces of other residents of the lodge. Just about everyone, except for one.

As she sketched, Aubrey leaned over the page and watched her create a new person out of nothing, weaving an image out of crosshatchings as thin and delicate as spider silk. Although knowing next to nothing about drawing, Aubrey gave her some pointers. "Your lips are a little bit thinner than that." "Your cheekbones are a little bit higher." "Don't forget to draw in the freckles below your eye. They're kind of faint, but they're there."

Aubrey went to look in a little closer and felt her forehead knock against something hard. By the time she realized that her head had collided with Dani's, both of them had jumped back a little, instinctively. She hadn't realized how much they had been leaning in with their heads turned toward the sketchpad.

Dani blinked once, twice, as though dazed. "I'm sorry, I should...it's late. I should go."

"Um," she called to Dani's back, "are you usually up at this hour?"

Dani stopped walking, then turned with a small, sheepish smile. "Well, I don't strictly have to sleep."

"Rad! Me neither! I'll probably see you around then."

"Yeah, you probably will."

Aubrey kept sitting there for some time after she left. She wasn't tired, and her heart was still pounding too much for her to sleep.

A few nights later, as she wandered the lodge in the wee hours, she rounded a corner to find the door to a single suite open, drenching the otherwise dark hallway in the golden lamplight from within. Considering that no one left their doors open even during the daytime, this was decidedly weird.

When she walked by and looked inside, Dani was there to meet her gaze. As if she had been waiting.

"Hi," she said quietly.

Aubrey, whose exhausted brain was even more deficient in the attention department than usual, replied after a delay of six full seconds, "Hi."

More moments of silence passed as she tried to figure out whether she should just keep going without being a bother, or whether her addled mind could manage a conversation right now. She couldn't figure out which Dani would have preferred. Maybe it was a fault of the disguises or maybe it was just how she operated, but either way, she was hard to read.

"So...do you have your bunny?"

"His name is Dr. Harris Bonkers, PhD, and no."

"Can you get him?"

"Huh?"

"So he can hang out with us. I probably should've asked if you wanted to hang out first. Sorry, I don't normally do this."

"Uh...no, that's fine. That's great. I'll...I'll go ask if he wants to come."

She brought him, and then, in the following weeks, made sure to bring him every time. More often than not, they passed the first hours after midnight together. For the most part, Aubrey did not remember the conversations in particular, at least not the specifics of them. They were long and meandered and doubled back on themselves. Instead, she remembered what she learned from them, from Dani. That the light orange-ish mushroom that grew on large trees in the forest were mildly poisonous to some and tasted like chicken to others, and that you'd never know unless you tried. That Barclay and Mama used to have regular competitions to determine who could handle the spiciest food. That she was, in fact, not to hard to read at all--that she picked at the stitches in her quilt when she was nervous, that she sometimes rocked back and forth a little on the bed when talking about something that excited her (though never enough to disturb the rabbit resting in her lap).

Aubrey remembered what she learned in the pauses, too. There were large in-between spaces of nothing, when neither of them spoke. She learned, to her surprise, that she didn't mind it. The sound of Dani's deep sighs and the bags of slightly stale Goldfish crackers she kept under her bed had become part of a routine. Predictable. She hated predictable, usually. But the rest of her life--her new life of monster-hunting and magic-using--had stopped being predictable awhile ago. So this was alright. Nice, even, to have one space where she knew what was what.

"I kind of don't want to leave," she mused into one of these silences.

"The room, you mean? You probably should. My bed's not big enough."

"No." Yes. "I mean leave Kepler. Normally I would've moved on by now."

Dani nodded. "I guess you did travel a lot before. You've got a lot going on around here, though."

"Yeah, I guess that's it. So much is new I haven't gotten used to it yet. I'd hate to live somewhere I'd gotten used to," she said with a chuckle.

"You always wanna keep moving?"

"I think so."

It might have been several minutes before Dani spoke up, though she didn't keep track. All Aubrey knew was that she heard her say suddenly, "Aubrey, don't take this the wrong way, just...how could you ever want that?"

The "how could you" pricked her. Aubrey  slowly turned to look at her, eyebrows raised.

"It's an honest question," Dani went on. "I just...I can't relate. Maybe because I left home so early and...well. Suddenly."

Aubrey glanced away. She asked, "How early?" before she could wonder whether she wanted to hear the answer.

"Oh, I don't know. I was a teenager."

"And remind me again, how old are you?"

She had to think about it. "Twenty-two."

"How long have you been twenty-two?"

"Awhile?" She gave a small shrug. "But years are different on Sylvain than on Earth. Keeping track is hard for me. That's what I'm saying. I miss being used to where I live, and understanding it, and understanding my place in it. I'm barely acclimated to Kepler. I can't imagine having to pick up and do it all again, all the time."

The forest green hotel carpeting was rough under her toes. "Yeah, I hear you," she replied after a bit too long. She wanted to say it was easy for her to do it, over and over. She would have said that, normally, to anyone else. But now, in the early morning hush, she thought it might not have been what was easy so much as simply what she did, what she felt she had  to do. "I guess...I mean, I had a home I left early too. And I don't think I'll feel that way about any place ever again. I never even wanted to try. Why stay anywhere when no place is ever going to feel the same? I don't know, I'm not making sense, probably. It's too late. Or too early."

"No, I think you are."

"Yeah." She took in a breath and tried a smile. "I could be wrong, though. I've, uh, found out I was wrong about a lot of things since getting here."

Dani glanced at her and, gradually, returned the grin. Aubrey had also learned not to look for too long, or she might get self-conscious and hide her face behind her hair again. Not as often, though, lately, and not now. She had been unfolding over these nights, slowly. "Like what?" she asked.

"Monsters being real was a big one."

She laughed this time, albeit from behind her palm. "Guess so." With one hand stroking Dr. Bonkers, she let the other rest on Aubrey's thigh, fingers lightly tapping. Aubrey tried not to squirm. Her body seemed hypersensitive under the touch, almost pricked by it. Or maybe that was the heat traveling just beneath her skin, out to her extremities, like it did just before flames burst from her fingertips. After holding it back for awhile, her hands stung like they had when she had touched a hot lightbulb as a child. Dani was still touching her, and she wanted to shift away but also desperately didn't want this contact severed. She tried to quench the heat radiating from her and hoped Dani would not notice. (Surely, she had to notice, and that thought only made her burn more.)

Later, she tried to hide the round scorch marks left in the quilt by her fingertips. She realized then that she was in what one might call deep shit.

So she had been less than proactive in the romance department for the last few years. She had had work to focus on. A blossoming career in entertainment, in fact. And anyway, she had never stayed anywhere long enough to make a real connection. Aside from some flirtatious moments in bars, a few teasing strokes, there had been nothing since high school. She was touch-starved, probably. Liable to crush on any living soul who so much as brushed arms with her. Did it really even count as a crush if all you wanted to do was sit together while touching? Maybe she just liked hanging out on her friend's bed in the middle of the night while the two of them took turns resting their heads in each other's laps and spilling their darkest secrets, and that was all fine and very platonic.

These were only some of her considerations as she sat, one evening, with Dani's fingers loosely interlocked with her own.

If she weren't careful, she knew she would just up and ask. She tried to distract herself instead. "Oh! I thought you might like this." She pulled out her phone and opened up her photos, which was about the only thing the device was good for in this quiet zone. "Saw a snail today."

Dani, who was already leaning against her shoulder, came even closer, tickling her clavicle with her hair as she looked at the picture. She grinned and nodded. "Effervescent."

"Can you ID it?"

"Virginia bladetooth, I think. I see them all the time in the garden."

"You're like a walking field guide, you know that?"

She giggled quietly, idly flicking the buttons on Aubrey's vest. "I think I've just spent way too many hours reading them." The metal jingled as she jostled it.

"You're amazing. Hey, by the way, what are we?"

After saying it, Aubrey immediately wished she had taken more distracting snail photos.

Dani, for a moment, looked as if she had not quite heard or understood. She gave her a curious look before the meaning of the question occurred to her, and her soft smile collapsed under its own weight. Her mouth was open. She seemed to take in a lot of air without breathing out.

She was just about ready to laugh it off, to make a gal pals joke, when Dani started, "We're friends, Aubrey." Aubrey didn't think she imagined the way "friends" had been enunciated. "Why? Were you...did you think we were more than that?"

Her whole mouth tasted of sour spit. "Well," she said, with an impressive lack of shaking, "we could be, if you wanted?"

"No."

The answer was instantaneous. She didn't say it in a mean way. Just an honest one.

"Ah." It sounded, even to herself, like the wind had been knocked out of her. "Right. I, uh, think I made this really goddamn awkward just now! Bad joke. I should probably go back to my room anyway, so--"

"No, hang on!" There was a tug on her sleeve as she went to stand up.

She sighed. "Listen, it was dumb. You really don't have to try and--"

"It's not dumb. I just...it's got nothing to do with who you are or anything..."

"It's not me, it's you, right?" she muttered. Suddenly, she felt exhausted.

"No! No, that's not what I...it's only even kind of about me." Her eyes snapped frantically this way and that, as if searching for a way to explain herself, or for an exit. They looked in every direction but Aubrey's. Her fist clenched and unclenched rapidly, over and over.

"Hey," Aubrey said in the softest voice she could. She sat back on the bed and considered, for a moment, wrapping an arm around Dani's hunched-up shoulders, then decided against it. "Hey, it's okay. Really, it is. I...I didn't want to make you worry."

"I'm sorry." Dani's breath shivered. "I'm sorry, I don't know how to explain...okay, look. I want to date you. I do."

Within half a second, Aubrey went through whatever the opposite of the seven stages of grief is. "Oh. Good to know."

"But I don't think I can."

"Can I just ask why, though?" She waited for an answer that she did not receive. "Listen, you're, like, really sending me a lot of mixed signals here, and I wasn't gonna push it but I feel like at this point you owe me some kind of--"

Dani slapped her hand down onto the bedspread and, far too loudly for 2AM, shouted, "I can't bring you home to my mom!"

The silence that followed was not one of the comfortable ones. It hit her like cold.

"Sorry." Dani's voice was a whisper, now, one that came out cracked. "I'm genuinely sorry. For all of this. I just don't know how else to explain it. This could never be a normal relationship, you know? I can't introduce you to my family, I can't take you on the dates I would've taken you on back at home..." She trailed off, swallowed loudly. "Maybe it's stupid. It's definitely stupid. I...when I was younger, I always imagined having a stupid romance like you see in teen movies or whatever, something really sappy and typical, and then I left home and resigned myself to the fact that I'd never have a chance of a normal relationship like that. Or a relationship at all, really. I don't know."

Aubrey let the quiet stretch on for a good while longer. Then, almost to herself, she murmured, "I couldn't bring you home to my mom either." Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Dani's head snap towards her. She kept staring at the floor anyway. "It's hard. She won't ever know the person or the people I decide I want to spend my life with, and that's hard as shit."

"Yes," Dani answered, barely audible.

"It'll always make relationships feel a little weird, I think." Finally, she glanced in Dani's direction. "I feel like that's not really a reason not to have them, though. I don't even know what would qualify a relationship as not-weird, honestly. Or what counts as 'normal' in your book."

"Maybe," Dani sighed. "But it's also like...you really don't know how much you still don't know about me. About Sylphs in general. You might find it too weird."

"Are you serious? Try me."

With a huff, she reached under her bed to pull out a small, jangling cardboard box. Making eye contact all the while, she pulled out an iron nail, held it up for Aubrey to see, and then bit down on it, running it back and forth so that it grated against her teeth.

"What, is that a stim? You don't honestly think I'd judge you for--"

"No," Dani interrupted with a tired tone. "That's not it. You'll see some Sylphs doing this when there are no humans around to comment on it. You know how my kind are rumored to drink blood? That myth started because we get insane cravings for iron, and so a lot of us will just spend all day sucking on literal metal."

"So? Still not that weird."

"But that's just an example. There's a million little things like that you don't know about. I just think you're going to find something about me too bizarre one day."

"Oh yeah? Well I can hang," Aubrey said, and with that, pulled an inch-long nail out of the box and gulped it down.

A pause.

"You don't swallow them whole, do you?"

"Aubrey, what the fuck.”

"Huh. Why did I do that?"

"Oh my god." Dani laughed, and kept laughing, high-pitched and uncontrollable. It was the incredulous sort of laugh that comes from being so delirious with panic that the feeling loops back around to being hilarious. Not that Aubrey could relate or anything. "Oh my god, Aubrey, you're insane! How did you manage to make this night even more ridiculous than it already was?"

"Am I weird enough yet?" She had started to giggle too. It wasn't like there was much else to do at this point.

"I'm gonna die." Dani wiped tears from the corners of her eyes, trying to catch her breath as she continued to laugh. "Or you might. I'm really scared for you actually."

"Yeah, this is bad probably, huh?"

"No, seriously, we have to go to the actual emergency room now because you just ate an entire nail."

"Wait, no, I hate hospitals!"

"Me fucking too, but you just swallowed a sharp chunk of literal metal! It could, I don't know, puncture you or something!"

Aubrey groaned. "Fine, but only if we don't tell Mama."

Dani stopped giggling for a moment, thinking. "We still need her car, though. I know where the keys are."

"You have a license?"

"I don't show up in photographs, remember? Of course I don't have a license."

"Right. Cool. Well, I don't either, so..."

"Don't worry. I drive the landscaping cart around the lodge's grounds all the time."

"Well, that's probably basically a car. You know what street signs and shit mean?"

"Probably."

Three blown stop signs, two unheeded red lights, and several screeching turns around bends on the highway later, they both came stumbling up to the sinister red glow of the EMERGENCY sign and the automatic sliding doors below it. "Stop laughing," Dani kept saying as they walked in. She tried several times to bite her lip in order to stop her own hysterics, but it only resulted in her snorting loudly instead. "Stop it! You're injured! We shouldn't be having a good time!"

Given that most cases of ingested foreign objects occur in individuals under the age of five--a fact of which the doctor felt the need to inform her--Aubrey figured she could at least take some pride in being a novelty. All the same, it was difficult to get her story straight. She ended up with several brochures for therapy to treat pica. It was at least preferable to admitting, "I ate a nail in a misguided attempt to prove a point to my anxious vampire not-quite-girlfriend."

Dani stood up the moment Aubrey walked back into the waiting room, as though she had been watching the door. She had sobered up some, it seemed. Nervously, she pulled on each of her fingers as though to crack the knuckles, though there was no sound. "How'd it go? What'd she say?"

"So apparently, most people just pass this stuff on their own. They took some X-rays, but apparently I'm not at a huge risk for being perforated or whatever, so they're not gonna put me through surgery. She just said to monitor it."

"Well, I guess that's good." Her tone was doubtful as she wrapped her arms around herself. "Still, I wish they could do more for you than just tell you to wait. Where'd you get the Jello cups?"

"The nurses will just give them to you if you ask! I guess they felt bad for me. Want one?"

With a faint smile, she took it and sat back down. "So," said Dani, peeling back the lid.

"So," said Aubrey. She tapped the side of her plastic cup with her forefinger. Of course they had to talk about it. It might as well be at this hour, she supposed, like all their other important talks. "Maybe you had a point, huh? You'd never have a normal relationship with me as your girlfriend." She forced a small chuckle at the end.

Dani didn't laugh in return this time. She poked at the red gelatin. Aubrey noticed that she liked to watch the chunks of it jiggle on her plastic spoon before eating it. That was important. "Maybe not," she said thoughtfully. "Though I was thinking that sneaking out and stealing Mama's car is pretty teen rom-com."

Aubrey recognized that as a hint of hope. "So is sharing Jello, I think." She looked out the window at the streaks of yellow on the horizon, signaling the coming sunrise. Mama would be up with the sun, surely, and possibly wonder where her car went not long after. "We're going to get in so much fucking trouble. Also very teen rom-com."

That time, Dani giggled. Then she stopped, not lifting her eyes from the tile. "I really do care about you."

Aubrey blinked. "I...I care about you too."

"Could we...would you be okay with taking it slow? I'm not sure I want to call it a relationship just yet. But I like what we've been doing. I really like it."

Slowly, she felt a grin spread across her face. "Just tell me something: can I do more than what we've been doing? Am I allowed to kiss you?" She brushed aside Dani's hair before it could fall in front of her cheek.

With a small smile, she asked, "Are you going to make fun of me if I tell you I've never kissed a girl before?"

"No. But I think it's worth a try."

"This can't be exactly how you thought it'd be, though."

"What do you mean?" Dani asks.

"I mean, for one thing, you probably imagined you'd be dating a Sylph. And that you wouldn't be living in a hotel. This probably isn't anything like you imagined a  normal relationship being, is it?"

"Well, that's true." Another pause passes by. Matter-of-factly, she goes on, "Nothing in my fucking life worked out the way I wanted it, actually."

"I know," Aubrey says quietly.

She feels a graceful hand card through her thick curls. "I feel like that might be okay, though."

Aubrey had no idea if this relationship qualified as normal or not. Normal, she guessed, was not the word for it. It just felt a bit like home.

((Please consider reblogging if you enjoyed!))

[vulcan-highblood]

Not According To Plan 4/5

Fandom: Supergirl(TV) / Legion of Super-Heroes

Summary: (Post Season 3 Ep. 18 “Shelter From The Storm”) Querl and Imra return to the 31st Century. It’s not at all what they expected.

Read it on AO3!

Chapter 4: Requisition

Upon inspecting Legion Headquarters, it became clear that Querl’s prediction regarding the state of technology had been correct. HQ was, externally at least, very similar to the headquarters they had left behind when they had been thrown back to the past. However, this building lacked the sophisticated security system Querl had painstakingly installed, and all other systems that had been operated by COMPUTO. 

Now Querl was stuck in his lab with an actual physical notepad, taking down the information on the individual they were seeking so he could determine the best way to make use of their limited resources and travel back in time again. He was finding that not being able to use an omnicom was both frustrating and painful. Frustrating, because it meant he had to physically scrawl all of his notes in Interlac, which took far longer than simply mentally dictating and watching the words appear on a screen. Painful, because he had been scribbling his notes in interlac for the better part of an hour and was beginning to develop a cramp in his wrist.

He was unused to hand-writing his notes. Even when he’d been in the 21st century, most of his work had been on computers. It was degrading, to be reduced to mere strokes on a page to try and work out his ideas. Everything was so sprocking slow, his mind felt as though it was whirling away from him, so much faster than his cramping hand.

“Well, Brainy? How’s it look?” Rokk asked, coming up from behind Querl to read over his shoulder.

Querl turned slightly, so Rokk wouldn’t be able to read his notes. Not that it mattered. They were so cramped and convoluted he doubted the Braalian would be able to make heads or tails of them anyway. His handwriting was atrocious. He had never needed it for more than the occasional scribbled notation prior to this point in his life, so he didn’t feel particularly put out by this failing. It didn’t make his wrist feel better, though.

“I have identified the technology advances that led my temporal predecessor to believe that this individual was the best choice to counter my cousin’s attack,” Querl said, “and I am in the process of learning the identity of this individual.” Turning, he looked at Rokk, clarifying. “The information on this person remains shrouded in mystery, but they appear to have hailed from the twenty-first century.”

“That’s where you just came from, wasn’t it?” Rokk asked, ignoring the fact that, technically, he’d been in the 21st century too. He had simply been asleep for the duration of the visit, and thus did not recall their lengthy stay.

Querl wrinkled his nose in irritation. It was troubling that he had not anticipated needing to rely on such an individual while he had been in the right place, at the right time. Then again, Querl had absolutely no recall of this individual in his own mind, which implied that this… (human? Likely. Though not all residents of Earth at that time were truly human, statistically speaking, it was the most reasonable assumption) inventor was possibly a survivor of the Blight who would have died without their intervention.

Fascinating. Their own actions to prevent the Blight also provided a solution to their problem, a problem which was also a result of preventing the spread of the Blight. While this was an intriguing conundrum, trying to determine the identity of this individual with limited historical records and significantly limited access to computer systems was proving to be a challenge.

“Everything has changed as a result of our actions,” Querl pointed out. “I do not even know of this person as their works are all completely unheard of from the time of the Blight, and yet… some of the technological advances pioneered by this individual appear to be foundational structures upon which today’s technology is based. It is…” Querl resisted the urge to sigh, “…admittedly genius-level work. Considering, of course, the limitations of the time.”

Rokk’s eyebrows jumped towards his hairline. “Did you just admit to another person’s work being genius?”

“Having only recently returned from that time period I can unequivocally say that managing to produce any functional tech is a work of exceptional skill and likely boundless patience.” Now Querl did sigh, turning to look at Rokk. “It was so sprocking frustrating, their computers are so stupid it was like talking to a stone. Twenty-first century computers are a lump of electrical impulses and silicon, they have no heart…” he shut his mouth suddenly, feeling as though he had shared quite a bit more than was intended. “It was infuriating,” he summarized.

Rokk was giving him a look, a look Querl received from his peers rather consistently. They didn’t understand computers, and likely did not understand the severe chasm that divided 21st century technology from the 31st century. But when you were a part of it, it was impossible to forget.

“Sounds rough,” Rokk said, neatly underlining the precise problem with the universe at present.

The people of this time still had not fully come to terms with everything they had lost. Could not appreciate how much his family had torn from them all. “What I am trying to say,” Querl turned back around to stare at his blocky interlac notations,  “Is that the AI virus is far more dangerous to us than people from another time - we don’t know how to survive without AI. We haven’t needed to, for centuries.” He glanced back at Rokk again, trying to clearly explain his theory. “An individual from the twenty-first century would not feel as though they were being deprived, precisely because they have never known the level of advancement we once had in this time.”

Rokk shrugged lightly. “I’ll take your word for it.” He turned to leave, then paused, as though he’d remembered something. “Oh, right, I almost forgot -” he quickly approached Querl, extending a large bundle of physical note paper. “I just brought the physical images and information from all the history texts in the National Archives related to the unnamed inventor that you asked Luornu to get for you. I’m guessing that’s the same one you’re researching?” He waved a small handful of paper in Querl’s face before dropping them on top of Querl’s notebook. “There’s probably two hundred pages more that Jo and Luornu are still printing off, plus they found some more research notes that your past self made about the inventor. I put that on top of the pile, actually - I figured you would like to start with what your past self had already decided was important.”

“Yes,” Querl agreed, “Let us hope that my former self’s last days were spent on useful research. I would hate to see my previous research only to discover it is all useless, necessitating additional months of fruitless study while society as we once knew it continues to crumble.”

Rokk made a strangled noise like he wasn’t quite sure how to respond.

Lucky for him, Querl wasn’t expecting a response. It had been a bit callous to make sarcastic remarks about his own untimely death, but Querl was stressed and under a lot of pressure. He felt as though he had earned the right to be a bit of a nass about this whole sordid predicament. But he recognized that this attitude was unhelpful, and so, taking a deep breath, Querl spoke again.“I appreciate the information,” he told Rokk. “I am certain the notes will be useful.” It was, after all, his own research.

“Right,” Rokk said, moving for the door to Querl’s lab. “I’ll just… leave you to it. Good luck.”

Querl lifted a hand in a gesture of farewell, already picking up the pile of notes Rokk had dropped in front of him. He had work to do, and time was running out. If not for him, then certainly for the Legion Cruiser. He needed to gather the necessary information quickly if they stood any chance of traveling back in time again. If only he could use a sprockingcomputer.

Querl lifted the first page, unintentionally dragging the side of it along his fingers, and - “Sprock! Grife! What the-” it had cut him! Why was this paper sharp? Nursing his wounded hand, Querl glared down at the pile of notes, which stared back at him accusingly. Sprocking grife. It was shaping up to be a long day.

~~*~~

Querl was beginning to regret the lack of natural lighting in his laboratory, as the harsh glare of the lights appeared to be causing him to develop a low-grade headache. It wasn’t a particularly painful headache, it was just difficult to concentrate when absolutely anything that strayed from the norm forced him to pause and run a self-diagnostic. Despite his near-certainty that he had not been infected in the short amount of time spent in this timeline, Querl nonetheless found himself bordering on paranoid. He had already died before seeing this mission through to fruition once. If he died this time… well. Querl didn’t expect there would be many other people in the universe capable of plotting a route through time and space using only pen and paper.

To be fair, though, other people would be able to use a computer without risking contamination. So perhaps he wasn’t the only person who could plot their route. He was simply faster than the others. With a sigh, Querl stared at the “historic artifact” that his previous self had found incredibly important and frowned. He could have sworn he’d seen it before, but his recall was taxed by the fact that he had multiple thought-tracks running system diagnostics at regular intervals while several other thought-tracks were attempting to plot a route back to the 21st century. Even so, Querl knew that this ‘artifact’ had been noted, once before. It was in his mind, somewhere. Which meant that at some point during his time int he past, he had been close enough to the inventor to actually take note of their work. How frustrating to know this now, when it was going to be so hard to get back to the same time and place as he’d been before. If only he had a name, or at least a face, to put to the inventor. He could work with that! He could work with…

Work. Why was it that work had sparked something? Immediately dismissing the system diagnostic, Querl attuned three of his thought-tracks to pursuing that line of thought. He could work with the inventor.

Perhaps, he already had.

As he focused, he brought up memory after memory, scrutinizing them for details, the slightest hint, and what he found was… frankly, unexpected. It couldn’t be. Despite the fact that even Querl would have been hard-pressed to predict a Blightless future with anything even resembling accuracy, the fact that he’d been so close was incredibly frustrating. It didn’t matter how unlikely it had been for him to know this, he still felt as though he should have known. Knowing that there was no reason for him to know such a thing was irrelevant in the face of an emotion as illogical as frustration.

Taking a deep breath, Querl set the artifact aside and steepled his fingers, attempting to quiet his mind as he considered the revelation. The thought-tracks he’d commandeered quietly went back to their system diagnostic as Querl mused on what he’d learned. All in all, it made a surprising amount of sense. After all, Winslow Schott had, at least according to DEO records, once opposed and prevailed against his descendant, Brainiac 8. Perhaps he was the right person to oppose Pirn. Or Brainiac. Depending on how much of the younger Coluan’s operating system had been subsumed by his evil ancestor, he might be willing to use that name instead. If Pirn was insisting on going by Brainiac 6, there was a good chance that Vril’s ancestral memory had somehow wrested control from the young Coluan entirely, as the cousin that Querl remembered hadn’t seemed the megalomaniacal sort. Of course, the mother Querl remembered hadn’t seemed the filicidal sort, either, and yet-!

He was going to need a lot of time to think about the meaning of family when this was all over.

For now, he had bigger things to think about. Well. Not bigger, simply more urgent matters than really thinking about the fact that no matter what timeline he fled to, apparently his family was still the sprocking worst. But he didn’t have time to dwell on that. He needed to figure out how to plot their trajectory as precisely as possible, preferably before the Cruiser, which was still equipped with onboard AI systems, shut down for good. At least now he had something to go on, but finding a way back to that time would be troubling.

Querl straightened up, rolling his shoulders, and reviewed his system diagnostics. All clear. His headache appeared to be strictly biological in nature, then. Perhaps because he hadn’t slept since he’d arrived in this century nearly 47 hours earlier. Querl shook out his hand, absently wondering if he would end up developing carpal tunnel from all the unfamiliar motions, and resumed his calculations. The fine-tuning would come later, but at least he had a more clear idea of where - and when - they needed to go next.

[musicgoonmail]

Out of the Old

In This Edition

In this week's edition, I share thoughts on online music worship, recording video content for Sunday School, influencer culture, HSMTMTS, The Imagineering Story on Disney+, what's new with my book reviews, church social media, and what's coming soon across my creative projects.

I know there's a lot of content to consume these days. It seems like everyone is pushing harder and harder to make an impact during isolation. So as always, thank you for your support and taking the time to read my newsletter.

Walnut Notes: Trusting God with Endora Pan

Walnut Notes: Remembering God in All Things with Jon Ng

Dive In Dig Deep: IGTV Guide

Book Reviews

Playlists

Extended Play

Coming Soon

Weekly Review

Walnut Notes: Trusting God with Endora Pan

Endora Pan is a worship leader and small group leader at our church, FCBC Walnut. We talked bout her exhortation from our online worship service, recording her vocals for video worship, and small groups during the time of COVID-19. This episode was recorded LIVE on IGTV and you can watch the video on YouTube.

Endora and I have been about the music ministry since the first day we met, so it was good to see her on screen during our online worship service. We talked about how she was still raising her hands in a recorded video, and I was honestly very encouraged. I have been trying to grow in my physical expressiveness during musical worship, and maybe COVID-19 is what it's going to take to make me go all-in when we get back to church.

Walnut Notes: Remembering God in All Things with Jon Ng

Jon Ng is a Sunday School teacher at FCBC Walnut. Due to COVID-19, we moved our Sunday School class online. We shared a devotion with our students and I saved it to share with the rest of our church. We recorded LIVE on Zoom and you can watch the video on YouTube. Here's his main point: Keeping God at the forefront of all actions and thoughts is wise, but when we forget about God, everything is worthless.

I think recording these videos works well for my Sunday School class, and I am happy to share them with the rest of the church. I teach the 11th and 12th grade class, but we also invited the 9th and 10th grades to join us when we have the live class session. Over on Facebook, I've been playing with adding captions - and the 10-15 minute video length is perfect for me to get the job done.

Dive In Dig Deep: IGTV Guide

I have been recording unboxing videos of the books I receive to review over on Instagram. I wanted an easy way to keep track of them, so I created an IGTV Guide. I group my episodes into different seasons, and they are rather arbitrary, but in my mind they are based off of the waves of books that I get in a certain time period.

What I hope to do is introduce more video content. Of course I still plan to be book-based. But experimenting with live interviews and sharing some music on my stories has seemed to work well. In my feeds, it seems like the LIVE trend is starting to wind down. But I still see more and more people - and Christian ministries for that matter - trying to make an impact. This Twitter thread from NYT Styles reporter Taylor Lorenz has some great insights into what's currently going on in influencer culture.

Book Reviews

This week I reviewed two sets of books from The Good Book Company. These books read like a commentary but feel like a devotional. Check out my reviews of Luke 1-12 For You by Mike McKinley, Luke 12-24 For You by Mike McKinley, John 1-12 For You by Josh Moody, and John 13-21 For You by Josh Moody.

Reading has been difficult for me during quarantine, so this week I made it my goal to read and review one book per day. They were shorter books, so I made sure to pick them up instead of surfing on my phone. Writing reviews came easily sine the books were still fresh in my mind. I should be able to take it easier next week, and I'm looking forward to having a clearer calendar.

Playlists

I kept playing the HSMTMTS soundtrack, and it's been growing on me. There's a lot of filler tracks from the movie, and I think only a few of the tracks can stand on their own outside of the context of the movie - but that's okay. Unlike the original HSM, I don't quite care to revisit the actual film. In this case, the songs will suffice.

MUSICGOON: 10 songs I enjoyed this week.

SVRGNLA: Jess and I love these songs.

ETJ: Music that inspires my band.

DIDD: A crowd-sourced worship playlist.

TGIF: Crowd-sourced for SOLA Network.

This is FCBC Walnut: Sunday setlists.

Extended Play

Speaking of Disney, we watched all episodes of The Imagineering Story on Disney+ and I highly recommend it for any fan of Disneyland. As a child of the 90s, the series started picking up for me at Episode 3 where former CEO Michael Eisner came into the picture. Before we had kids, Jess and I were blessed to go to every Disney Park in the world, so it was nice to revisit them and see the story behind them.

The article that impacted me the most this week was Churches, You Don’t Have to Compete with Disney+ by Vermon Pierre for The Gospel Coalition. As the social media officer for FCBC Walnut, I can give my input, but the pastors are the ones controlling the big pieces of content. Overall, I think we're doing a good job. We need to be wise, adjust for our church context, and be flexible to change. This Twitter thread from DesiringGod's Tony Reinke offers some great advice regarding content strategies for pastors during the COVID-19 crisis. I don't agree with everything, but it's definitely a good place to start.

Throwback: They Do All Their Deeds to be Seen by Others: 4 Resolutions for Creative Christians

Movie: The Imagineering Story

TV: HSMTMTS

Article: Churches, You Don’t Have to Compete with Disney+ by Vermon Pierre

Book: Gentle and Lowly: The Heart of Christ for Sinners and Sufferers

Song: Out of the Old by Olivia Rodrigo for HSMTMTS

Coming Soon

I'll be recording my friend Joyce Ho's Sunday School devotion this weekend, and I'm scheduled to give the next one. I'm a bit nervous about being recorded, but if my Sunday School teachers are open to doing it then I should be willing to join them. I've actually been thinking about how I can better pivot to video across different platforms, and after next Sunday I'll be carefully considering my options.

I have book reviews lined up and ready to go for next week. I've been shying away from hosting my own book giveaways, but I'm working with IVP right now to try a partnership for something fun soon.

Weekly Review

SOLA: How Chinese Pastors Developed Their Theology for Suffering / The Sanctifying Grace of Inefficiency / Goodnight Chinatown.

Thank God it’s Friday: The new issue of Themelios / A new hymn from Jane Kang and Heidi Tai / God does the magic in disciplemaking / What sins disqualify a pastor for life?

Book Review: John 13-21 For You by Josh Moody

Book Review: John 1-12 For You by Josh Moody

Book Review: Luke 12-24 For You by Mike McKinley

Book Review: Luke 1-12 For You by Mike McKinley

Dive In Dig Deep: IGTV Guide

Walnut Notes: Trusting God with Endora Pan

Walnut Notes: Remembering God in All Things with Jon Ng

Recommended Reading: The Sanctifying Grace of Inefficiency / Four Ways to Build and Sustain a Healthy Worship Ministry / Goodnight Chinatown / Jeremy Lin on the Coronavirus, Hate, and What he is Doing about It

[fresh-outta-jams]

Plastic Heart - Part 7

Namjoon x Reader Author: Mo Summary: When you get the highly-anticipated BTS dolls for Christmas, your life takes a turn in a way you never could have expected. Note: Bro listen, you are not PREPARED for parts 8 and 9. I’m writing them right now and oooooooof I’m so excited. Warnings: None? Fluff. Word Count: 1.4k

Prologue, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

“Okay, so, this is one of my really old phones. I put my number in it. It doesn’t get service anymore, but it should work on the WiFi. Also, it has buttons instead of a touch screen, so you can actually use it.” You handed the phone to Yoongi, who was standing in the seven-member line-up. You were leaving for class in a few minutes, and this would be the first time you’d leave them alone for an extended period of time since you found out that they were alive. “If anything happens, text me and I’ll call you as soon as I can, okay?”

“We’ll be fine, (Y/N), really. We’ve lasted this long.” Yoongi chuckled, setting down the giant device.

“That’s not reassuring in the slightest.” You sighed, looking at each of them for a second. “You can play with the Playstation as much as you like, and I dug up my Gameboy if you want to play some games on that too. Stay away from the oven. Don’t do anything stupid.”

“Why did you look at me when you said that?” Jungkook’s eyes narrowed.

“I didn’t mean--”

“I’m offended.”

“Shut up.” Jin gave him a little shove. “Let her finish. We don’t want her to be late for class.”

“Thank you, Jin. Alright, I think I covered everything…” You ran through the list in your head, and sure enough, there wasn’t anything else you could think of that mattered enough to address. “Oh, right, Namjoon is in charge.”

You winked at him and he swore he about passed out. “Y-yes, ma’am.” He gave a playful salute. “I’ll keep everything in order.”

“Alright, can I nap now?” Yoongi asked, yawning. How he managed to be tired while not actually physically requiring sleep, you’d never be sure.

“Yes, go to sleep Yoongi. Bye, guys. I’ll see you in like…” You checked your watch. “Five hours. And then we can have a movie night, alright?”

“Sounds good.” Namjoon nodded.

“Bye (Y/N)! I’ll miss you!” Jimin waved as soon as you picked up your bag and started walking towards the door.

“Bye, guys.”

And then you were gone again, leaving them alone in your apartment, this time with many more ways to entertain themselves while you were out. While Jungkook, Jin, Jimin, and Taehyung all scrambled to the Playstation to slay more dragons and Yoongi crawled into his new bed (complete with a bed frame AND a headboard and THREE more pillows) and Hoseok busied himself watching YouTube videos of BTS’ dance practices, Namjoon stood there with warm feelings swelling up in his little plastic chest.

You’d left him in charge. Him. Out of all seven of your options, you picked HIM to be in charge. Wow.

“You’re still in love with her, aren’t you?” Yoongi asked, his head on his pillows and his eyes closed. He didn’t even have to look at their leader to know that he was standing there with some dumb lovestruck look on his dimpled plastic face.

“Yeah, I think so.”

“You know, you’re STILL a foot tall and made of plastic.”

“I know both of those things, correct.” Namjoon stated. “It hasn’t stopped these...feelings yet, though. I’ll keep you posted.”

“Yoongi is right, Namjoon, you better figure that shit out.”

“Believe me, Hoseok, I would if I could. It’s not as easy as it sounds.”

And it became even harder when about two and a half hours later, you texted the phone you’d left for them.

(Y/N): Hey, Joon! Is everything alright at home?

His very first text message! He grinned when he read it, sliding the keyboard out so he could send a reply.

The Guys: It’s all good here! Thanks for checking in!

(Y/N): Good to hear. I’m on break now, about to go to my stats class. Let me know if you guys need anything!

The Guys: Will do! Have fun in class!

He didn’t know why he expected you to send another text. It was pretty clear the conversation was over, but he felt his heart sink when your communication was cut short. Yoongi was right. This was a problem. This silly little plastic crush of his spiraling out of control. He could only hope whenever you found out about it, you’d let him down gently.

***

When you finally got home, the guys all rushed to stand in front of the door, bombarding you with declarations about how their day had gone while you were out at class.

“Wow, sounds like you guys had fun.” You laughed. “What movie do we want to watch tonight?”

“You can choose.” Taehyung told you, starting to walk over to the couch in front of the TV. “Jungkook and I were looking through them earlier and we...we’ve never seen a movie before, so that didn’t really help at all.”

“That is the saddest thing I think I’ve ever heard. You’ve never seen a movie???” You could feel your heart shattering as they all looked up at you with empty eyes. “Wow, we’re fixing that immediately. Just let me go make some popcorn. Go ahead and get settled on the couch, alright?”

“Okay.” Jin and Yoongi wandered over to the sofa while you went to the kitchen instead, setting a bag of popcorn in the microwave.

“How was class?” It was Namjoon. You could tell before you even turned around to look. Oddly enough, their voices all sounded like the voice of the member they looked like, so it was easy to pick them out.

“Good. We got assigned another paper, but it can wait until tomorrow. It’s not due for a few more days.” You told him. He walked across the hardwood floor, closer to you.

“Oh, alright.” He nodded. He wasn’t really sure what else to say; his imaginary little heart was pounding too loud for him to think.

“Do you…?” You motioned to the counter. He nodded, so you reached down so he could step into your hands and gently lifted him onto the smooth elevated surface. There, much better.

“What does popcorn taste like?” He wondered aloud, watching as the bag spun around and around in the humming microwave.

“It’s salty and buttery.” You told him. “It goes really well with sweet things, like M&Ms.”

“Mmm.” He hummed. That didn’t really answer his question, considering he didn’t know what salty, buttery, or sweet tasted like, but it was sweet that you were trying. “I really wish I could taste things, you know?”

“Yeah, that must suck. A lot. I’m really sorry you’re stuck like that, Joon.” You looked at him with a mix of empathy and longing on your face. “You deserve so much more.”

“I’m...I’m a toy, (Y/N). Whether I like it or not, that’s all I’ll ever be.”

You shook your head. “I think we both know you’re more than that. You are to me, at least.”

Namjoon felt something spark in his chest, your one little affirmation lighting a flame inside of him. What were all of these emotions you were pulling out of him? How were you able to just...make him FEEL things he’d never felt before? It had to be some kind of magic, he figured. Or maybe you were just something else, special in ways you didn’t even know.

The microwave beeping pulled him from his thoughts. You turned around and pulled the bag out, shaking it a few times before you opened it and poured it into a large bowl, sprinkling a few handfuls of M&Ms on top of it.

“Shoulder or hand?” You asked.

It took him a moment to figure out what you were asking, but after a second or two, he replied, “Shoulder,” letting you help him up onto your shoulder. He held on maybe a little tighter than was necessary. God, how he wished he could just hug you…

When the two of you got back to the living room, you plopped down in the empty spot they’d left you on the couch, kicking your legs up on the coffee table before booting up Netflix. You put on To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before, and the entire movie, Namjoon found himself longing, wishing beyond wishes that in some universe, he could be the Peter Kavinsky to your Lara Jean.

And yet, no matter how hard he wished, he knew it would never come true...

Tagged: @iie-wakarimasen, @lilgaga98, @catbugsugarpea, @demonic-meatball, @backtonormalthings, @kbowen9, @honig-bienchen, @coolcat494, @ffantasylandd, @feed-my-geek-soul, @ayoo-bangtan, @xxqueenwxtchxx, @cap-lu20, @finninpoposu, @coldbookworm, @sitkafay, @daniawinchesters21

[searchingwardrobes]

Natural Opposite: 9/16

The dance I invented for this chapter is probably my favorite. One, because it’s to a Nirvana song, and as a nineties teen, I LOVE Nirvana. And second, my dance background is more in this style (contemporary) than in ballroom. I hope you enjoy reading it and the way it brings Emma and Killian closer together!

Thanks to my beta @distant-rose who loved this Nirvana dance almost as much as I did. Ro, our music chats were such a fun part of doing this with you! I’m glad we have similar tastes. And my artist, @optomisticgirl girl, is so talented and perfectly captured a dance that was only in my head beautifully for this chapter. Thank you, B! She also made that gorgeous banner you see every Monday!

Chapter art:

Ch 2

Ch 4

Ch 5

Ch 6

Ch 7

Summary: Dance is more than Emma Swan’s career; it’s practically saved her life on more than one occasion. But when it comes to reality TV shows, she’s always danced in the shadows of her twin brother David and her sister Elsa. Her first season as a pro on Dancing With the Stars was a disaster, and she enters her second season determined to prove herself. All she needs is a good partner. Hollywood bad boy and ladies’ man Killian Jones isn’t what she had in mind.

Rating: M for mature themes, steamy dance routines, and sexy times (But NOT smut)

Trigger warnings: discussions of online solicitation of a minor, bullying, statutory rape, and emotionally abusive/controlling relationships; stalking; anti-Rumbelle, anti-Neal

Can also be read on

Ao3

Tagging: @bethacaciakay @kmomof4 @teamhook @kmomof4 @snowbellewells @whimsicallyenchantedrose @kday426 @snidgetsafan @delirious-latenight-laughs @jennjenn615 @followbatb @onceuponaprincessworld @hollyethecurious @ohmakemeahercules

Chapter Nine: Heart Shaped Box

Killian grinned widely at Emma when he arrived for their rehearsal the next day. She returned it and gave him a small hug in greeting, and she couldn’t say it was just for the cameras. As much as she hated to admit it, she found herself looking forward to their rehearsals. They actually had fun together. Yeah, he still drove her crazy sometimes, but he also made her laugh. Last week, Killian had summed it up in a teasing remark.

“You know, Swan, I quite fancy you from time to time. When you’re not yelling at me.”

Henry’s observation about him “liking” her rose to mind, but she quickly pressed that down. Flirting, she had come to find out, was his autopilot. And like her sarcasm, it was largely a defense mechanism.

“Sorry we have to rehearse so early,” Killian told her, “but . . . I brought a peace offering.” He extended a styrofoam to-go cup.

“Coffee?” she asked, with a tilt of her head as she accepted the offering.

“Please, Swan, are you trying to test me? It’s hot chocolate,” he said, tapping the plastic lid teasingly, “with whipped cream and cinnamon.”

“I must say, I’m impressed,” she told him as she took a sip, “and I like the early rehearsal. It means I get to pick up Henry from school this afternoon.”

“I’m glad,” Killian replied, but then he blinked and rubbed his eyes, “although I hope the coffee I consumed on the way here kicks in soon. Filming went into the wee hours this morning.”

Emma frowned. “Be sure you’re taking care of yourself. I know this show is grueling, especially when you have other commitments.”

“I’ll try,” he promised with a weary smile, “though I go straight from six hours with you back to the studio for four more hours on green screen. I’ll be glad when the hiatus begins. If I haven’t gotten voted off by then.”

Emma waved her hand dismissively as she set her hot chocolate down beside her dance bag. “Please. We’re making it to the finale, Jones, I’m telling you.”

“Okay,” Killian said with a smile, “let’s get to work then. It’s decades week, so what decade did we get?”

“The 90s.”

Killian’s brow furrowed. “The 90s.”

“Why? You don’t like the nineties?”

Killian shrugged. “Well, that depends. Are we talking flannel, angst-ridden, grunge nineties? Or boy bands, bubblegum pop, dark lipstick nineties?”

Emma laughed. “Well, don’t you know the decade well! What if I said we were dancing to ‘Heart Shaped Box’ by Nirvana?”

Killian’s eyes lit up like a kid at Christmas. “Yes!” he enthused, pumping both fists.

“So Killian Jones likes angst,” she teased, “good to know.”

“Well, if you were going to make me dance to ‘MmBop,’ you may have had a mutiny on your hands.”

“Well, the cool thing about this dance is also that it’s contemporary. And believe me, angst works well with contemporary.”

Killian nodded, his face suddenly determined. “You can get really creative with this, Swan, that’s exciting.”

Emma put her hands on her hips and studied him silently for a few moments. The corner of her mouth quirked up when he almost started to squirm under her gaze.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he finally asked.

“How would you like to choreograph this dance with me?”

Killian’s eyes grew wide. “Are you serious?”

“Sure. You’re a performer and a musician.” She winked. “And you like angst.”

He gave her a smile she had yet to see on his face. It was genuine, as if he were truly touched by her offer. “I’d be honored, Swan.”

She cleared her throat, slightly unnerved at how much she liked this new smile on him. “Well, let’s figure out the story we’re trying to tell first.”

“Well, the lyrics are pretty dark.”

“Of course they are,” Emma said with a roll of her eyes, “it’s Nirvana.”

“Aye,” Killian chuckled, “and it’s also about a relationship. One that isn’t making either person happy, yet they stay together anyway.”

Emma swallowed hard. She knew the feeling.

“The man says he has complaints, yet then he turns around and says he’s in debt to her,” Killian continued.

Emma nodded. She had already listened to the song multiple times. “He talks about her having a cord around his neck, yet he climbs right back.”

“An umbilical noose, to be precise.”

Emma wrinkled her nose, “I know, but ew! Why did grunge bands use such sick and twisted images? He talks about eating her cancer, too.”

“They were pushing the envelope. It’s what every revolutionary period in music has done.”

Emma shook her head and smiled. “I better watch out. I’m treading into your area of expertise.”

Killian scratched the spot behind his ear. “Well, this is the genre of music I first learned to play on my guitar. I told you I was a bit morose.”

Her face softened at that. She remembered too well the lonely years before Ingrid. She could see why dark music would appeal to a lonely kid.

“So we’ve got a man who feels trapped in a relationship,” Emma replied, switching topics back to brainstorming for the routine.

“Hence the heart shaped box.”

“But I like what you said,” Emma continued, “about neither of them being happy. I think that should be our story. We’re a couple who aren’t good for each other, but we stay together anyway –“

“ – because we’re afraid of being alone,” Killian finished for her.

Emma smiled and then gave him a gentle slap on the shoulder. “You were right, Jones, we do make quite the team.”

“Or maybe,” he said softly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, “this topic strikes a little too close to home for both of us. Loneliness.”

Emma blinked and took a step back. Her heart pounded rapidly in her chest. Her hands clenched and unclenched as her mind tried to come up with a response.

Killian gave her his trademark crooked grin and quirked brow. “I mean, who wouldn’t crave loneliness when you’ve got cameras recording your every move?”

A slow smile spread across Emma’s face. “Right. Okay, Jones, let’s figure out the first eight counts.”

**********************************************************

It was the day of the show, and Emma and Killian sat on a dingy sofa set up on the dance floor hand in hand, waiting to be announced. Around them, the set department had created a living room in a rundown apartment circa 1995. Killian was dressed in faded jeans and a Nirvana t-shirt (of course). Emma wore black leggings and a plaid shirt, unbuttoned and tied at her waist. Underneath it she wore a black sequined bra top.

“You know,” Killian teased, fingering the tied ends of her shirt, “I don’t recall black sequined bras being a fashion statement in the nineties.”

“Well, not all of us are old enough to remember the nineties, old man,” Emma teased back.

“You wound me, Swan! I’m only thirty-five!”

Emma just laughed and rolled her eyes at his mock-offended expression. Behind them, the video package played of their rehearsal week. Just as she had expected, it opened with Killian finding her backstage last week after their Tangled routine. The expression on his face, which she hadn’t seen for herself at the time, was tender as he put his arms around her. It also showed their hug when he brought her coffee, and Killian tucking her hair behind her ear. They also played up the emotional portions of their choreography, showing embraces in super slow-motion. Emma rolled her eyes. It was ridiculous the way they were playing it all up like some sort of romantic comedy.

“Dancing a contemporary routine,” boomed the announcer, “Killian Jones and his partner Emma.”

She wished there were a commercial break so she would have a little more time to put the video package out of her mind. Killian gave her hand a squeeze, and she nodded, pressing her lips together. He relinquished her hand, and they both stared blankly forward as the lights came up and the music started.

The music producers were using a recording of the actual song performed by Nirvana. The live band just couldn’t capture the dissonance or the gravely sound of Kurt Cobain’s voice. She eyes me like a Pisces when I am weak. Cobain’s broody voice filled the room as Emma and Killian slid off the couch and onto the floor. For the remainder of the dance, they pushed and pulled on one another, neither of them able to stray very far from the couch, which of course symbolized their toxic relationship. They used the couch often, beating it with their fists, jumping on and off it, falling and sliding from it. Then the dance ended as it had begun, both of them sitting, staring blankly forward. The overhead lights dimmed as other lights flickered in front of them, meant to look like a television playing.

When the music faded out and all the lights came up, Killian leapt up in excitement. Emma, however, felt herself suddenly drained of emotion. If Killian hadn’t pulled her to her feet and embraced her, she may have kept right on sitting there. She felt as if her heart had just been exposed. She blinked as Killian cupped her head, whispering in her ear how “brilliant, bloody amazing,” she was. Somehow, that snapped her out of her daze. She thought about the woman in the song and her heart shaped box. She took a deep breath, and stuffed her own heart back inside of hers.

As Killian led her over to Marco so they could face the judges, her limbs once again cooperated, and she plastered her “performance smile” on her face. She really was proud of Killian. Not only the way he just danced that, but his creativity in helping her with the choreography. She put her arm around him and squeezed him around the waist. They both struggled to breath; the routine had been intense and the movement had never really stopped.

So it took them a minute to register that all three judges were on their feet, clapping. Emma blinked; even Blue seemed moved almost to tears. They all sat and Emma gnawed nervously on her lower lip as Teach began.

“That was artistry, pure and simple. I’ll be straight with you Jones, I didn’t think you would cut it on this show. I wanted to hate you. But that? That was dancing. Amazing dancing. Well done!”

Emma gave Killian a happy little shove, and he beamed down at her with a huge smile on his sweaty face.

Tiana was literally crying and struggled to begin her critique. “That is what dance is supposed to be. I can’t believe you’re the same dancer you were three weeks ago. Remember when I said you weren’t opening up? Well, you took what I said to heart, and you have grown remarkably. And Emma? That choreography was genius. You deserve an Emmy for that.”

Emma was shocked when Killian pressed a kiss to her cheek, nodding vigorously in agreement. Emma grabbed Marco’s microphone.

“I do want to remind everyone that Killian helped me with the choreography, so thank you Tiana, but I have to give this guy credit too.”

Killian pulled her closer and pressed another kiss to the top of her head as the audience cheered. Once it died down a little, Blue gave her review.

“Look, I’m a traditionalist. I like to see ballroom and strictly ballroom. However, you danced that full out, and you were completely in sync with your partner throughout. Not my cup of tea, but I’m impressed.”

Since the decade week dances were performed in chronological order, and they had been assigned the nineties, their routine was the last one of the night. That meant no time for an interview with Ashley, and the judges gave them their scores right there on the dance floor.

“Tiana Sabine,” the announcer intoned dramatically.

Tiana seemed to pause an inordinately long amount of time before revealing her paddle. But when she did, she did so with flourish. “TEN!”

The studio audience went wild with excitement! The first ten of the season! Killian whooped and picked Emma up off her feet in a tight hug. Once everyone settled down, Blue gave her score of nine and Teach, amazingly, also gave them a perfect ten. It was the highest score of the season so far.

There was no time for an interview with either Marco or Ashley. Emma was relieved, worried she may have had to field questions about the very misleading implications of their video package. The couples all lined up, and for the first time, Emma was nervous about the double elimination. However, she didn’t have to worry. Gold and Ruby were voted off, to no one’s surprise, and then David and his Disney channel star Violet. The second one was a surprise, and the fifteen year old sobbed with disappointment. Emma was glad for the distraction as everyone surrounded the poor girl to console her. She still felt a little emotionally raw after that dance. And maybe it was the way the video package had been edited, but was Killian giving her an awful lot of casual affection recently?

According to social media, he was. By the next morning the two of them were the number one trending “couple” on both twitter and tumblr. Emma blushed as she read through the comments.

“Anyone else out there shipping Killian Jones with his dancing partner?” - @killianjonesandfairydust

“OMG! I ship it so hard!” - @neverland4evr

“Did you see the PDA last night? That was a lot of hugs and kisses!” - @hookNtink4life

They even had a shipping name: Captain Swan. And surprisingly, there were no longer any threats upon her life. She wasn’t sure where the Killer Rose shippers had gone, but there was only one remotely threatening theme among Killian’s “hookers.”

“She better not break his heart.” - @yeahiamahooker

But the only heart Emma was worried about was her own.