#sorry for the wait! if there's anything that needs changing. Let me know.

[shackleton2]

it's true and I say this as an avid binge-watcher who in the stone age had to look up transcripts of episodes because I couldn't wait THREE ENTIRE DAYS OF MY LIFE FOR NETFLIX TO MAIL ME THE NEXT DVD

Seasons of TV released as one fat drop of 8-12 1-1.5hr episodes, literally being told THIS IS FOR YOU TO BINGE IN ONE INSANE SITTING is the exact definition of my dreams and desires.

......why are they no good??

I can definitely think of exceptions, but "both of them have too much time and not enough time for the characters to struggle and grow and change," as it's well-put above, does seem to be the rule more and more. But what does that phrase really mean??

I saw something recently weighing in on this and saying series in particular seem to think every single thing depicted on screen has to move the story forward, possibly because everything is angled to encourage "binging". It's funny because that sounds like it should do the opposite of making the story feel ponderous and pointless!! So what's going on?

Maybe it's because Real Life™ isn't constantly moving towards one plot resolution, so the more you write a story where that's true, the more impossible true immersion for the viewer becomes?

But also I think actively designing a series to be compulsively watched in one or two massive sittings is hurting them as stories. Maybe it's because bingeing, especially as it's understood in other contexts, is not about enjoying something massively good, at least not after the initial part.

We all know this, right? You don't binge on something because it's just sooooo good. Are there people out there who have never done any kind of binge? Maybe so, so I'll tell you because I surely have: it's inertia. A really scary kind, to be honest, that feels, after a while of getting acclimated to nonstop-consuming the thing, like an absolute involuntary need. Because the second I stop eating the family sized bag of chips, stop taking another drink, stop lighting another smoke, reality will come rushing back in place of the comfort-stimulus. And in reality I am not experiencing joy or even pleasure, I am experiencing the kind of existential horror you get when you try to convince yourself you don't actually have to deal with your own mind. This 100% applies to letting the next episode autoplay after 5 hours of watching one story unfold.

Sorry I got kinda dark there, but the point I'm trying to illustrate is that I don't think you NEED a GOOD PRODUCT in order to get people to binge. And, well, that shows more and more with this "content" streaming services are releasing.

True Blood was a hot mess in so many ways and my mental health sure as shit was too but holy shit watching that obsessively years back was so FUN. That show and other story-loves of mine feel different from stuff getting released in full-season streaming dumps right now, and I don't think it's quality of writing or acting or effects or anything else making the difference as much as whether a show seems to genuinely LIKE itself, or whether it's counting on you finding it preferable enough to reality to let the next episode play and thus get good stats.

we need 15-20 episode seasons again these limited series have the worst pacing in the world and none of the character decisions hold any weight

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @steddiebingo.

Black Velvet, If You Please

12 Days of Christmas Prompt: Velvet | Word Count: 1113 | Rating: T | CW: Language | POV: Steve | Tags: Future Fic, Established Relationship, Famous Corroded Coffin, Corroded Coffin Guys, Steve Trolling Eddie, Because He Loves Him

It's tacky. Kitsch. An oversized eyesore. 

And it's perfect. 

Steve couldn't be more pleased. It's exactly what he envisioned and more when he commissioned it.

He watches the artist carefully wrap it, then with their help, Steve picks up one side of the frame, both of them wrangling it carefully so they don't drop it, and carry it out to the waiting car. Gareth's behind the wheel, engine running, like he's the driver of a getaway car. 

He kind of is. Eddie's gonna consider this a crime.

And Steve loves it.

They very carefully place it in the folded down backseat of Gareth's ridiculously huge SUV, which for the first time in history actually came in handy. Steve shakes the artist's hand, and then climbs in the passenger side. 

"Well. Let me see it," Gareth says.

"It's wrapped, you can see it when we get it to the house," Steve explains. He's definitely not unwrapping it until they get it home safely.

Gareth mutters, but agrees, and puts the car into drive. 

Heist over, bounty secured.

Once it's safely hidden away inside the pool house, Steve gently peels back the brown paper and cardboard that has been protecting it.

Gareth leans forward, as if that'll help him get a better look. It's huge. He could see it from across the lawn. 

"Holy shit," Gareth says. 

"I know," Steve laughs, delighted. 

"It takes talent to craft something so magnificently ugly," Gareth says, and Steve agrees. It's ugly because it's on black velvet. That's kind of its thing. But it's not technically bad, nowhere near. It looks just like Eddie, and cost a pretty penny, but Steve definitely got his money's worth. Because the painting is damn good, and exactly what he commissioned.

But utterly and completely ridiculous.

Eddie — on black velvet. 

Christmas is gonna be so good this year.

"Why are you talking all the pictures off the wall?" Eddie asks, laying on the couch, eating popcorn, watching the annual A Christmas Story marathon. He's said he isn't moving today, and Steve is taking advantage of that. Eddie won't ask too many questions, for once in his life. Because if he does, he's scared he'll have to help.

"Gonna dust the frames, maybe change things up," Steve says, clearing off the entire wall behind the couch.

Eddie just shrugs, and goes back to watching the Bumpus hounds wreak havoc on the turkey dinner.

And Steve turns back towards the wall, grinning to himself, as he carefully measures, then drills the new holes in the wall to anchor it. 

It's like a black ops mission. Steve crawls out of bed just after four a.m. and when he gets downstairs, Gareth, Jeff and Goodie are all standing around waiting. 

"Sorry. Overslept. I couldn't set an alarm," Steve whispers, and they just nod, looking tired. He appreciates them all getting up early on Christmas morning just to help pull this off. 

Steve stands on one of the dining room chairs, Jeff on another while the other two hold the bottom of the giant frame.

"This is a ridiculous way to spend money," Goodie grumbles.

"Says the man with so many basses that he needs storage units, plural," Gareth banters back.

"Those are for work," Goodie snaps, a little too loudly.

"Sshh!" Steve shushes.

And in an unprecedented move, they stop fussing and fighting. 

It's a Christmas miracle.

They get it hung, and the holes Steve drilled yesterday actually work perfectly. He was worried his measurements would be off, and then they'd be screwed. Eddie can sleep through anything, but maybe not power tools in the middle of the night.

"He's gonna shit," Jeff says, and Steve giggles. That about sums it up.

They scatter, back to their own homes, their own families, and Steve goes back to bed. 

With no kids, Eddie isn't exactly raring to hop out of bed first thing in the morning, even on Christmas. This will work in their advantage.

Steve stays still in bed, waiting until he hears the first signs of movement from downstairs. They're back. After having Christmas morning with their families, they've all returned to see Eddie's face when he notices this thing for the first time. 

Steve gets up, and heads down, and with help gets brunch started. They always do a full spread, the works, and today is no exception. Bacon, eggs, pancakes, biscuits and gravy, ham steak, hash browns, and every burner and the oven are being fired up all at once.

The kids are all screaming at a dull roar, showing each other their new toys from Santa, and Harrington House feels like a home in a way it never did while Steve was growing up.

He loves it.

They finally hear Eddie moving around upstairs. He's loud, by nature, so there was no chance he was gonna sneak up on them.

Steve carefully wrapped the front of the painting after it was hung, anyway, so even if he did, they wouldn't miss his reaction. 

"He's coming," Gareth says, stating the obvious.

"He's gonna kill you," Goodie says to Steve, "and I'm gonna tell him Gareth helped."

Gareth makes a noise, and Jeff steps in to intervene. They can't have bloodshed before breakfast.

Then Eddie's coming, heavy feet bounding down the stairs, and they all freeze. Waiting for him to go through the living room.

"What the fuck is that?" Eddie hollers, "Steve?!"

Steve just smiles, and throws his tea towel over his shoulder. When he walks through the doorway, everybody following, Eddie is standing in front of the wrapped painting. 

"I don't know. Santa must have brought it," Steve lies, and Eddie turns to look at him.

"What'd you do?"

"Open it and find out," Steve says, and Eddie grabs a corner of the wrapping paper and tears. It doesn't come off in full, but it reveals a hint at what's to come.

"You did not," Eddie says, as he pulls more of the paper loose.

Steve did. He definitely did.

Eddie bends over at the waist and laughs, "I hate you. I hate it."

Then, he stands up, throwing his arms around Steve's neck, "I love it. I love you."

Steve laughs, that's about what he expected. And Eddie pulls away to study it again, as all their friends hoot and holler in the background, riling him up further as they all look at it. 

Eddie, painted in his onstage glory, young and wild, on black velvet.

Steve watches as Eddie reaches out to touch the canvas, "Black velvet. Like I'm Elvis."

Yep. That's exactly what Steve had in mind.

Eddie turns back to grin at Steve, "Has Wayne seen this yet?"

If you want to sign up for a future bingo event or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddiebingo and follow along with the fun!

Notes: The "painting" image is from this statue of Eddie that's for sale. I thought I could make it look more like a painting than an actual picture from the show.

The title come from the song Black Velvet by Alannah Myles.

[amorre1989]

strange visit and a date night

pairing: Spencer Reid; reader; Derek Morgan

word count: 3,8k

story?: After Spencer runs to the grocery store to buy some things to have a date night with you, but, to surprise of both of you, agent Derek Morgan suddenly shows up at his door.

"alright so, eggs, flour, garlic, wine and tomato sauce, is that it?" he asks checking on the list you just gave him.

"perfect" you answer smiling.

"alright, I'll be back in a second" he says, kissing you softly while holding the back of your head gently. You smiled and let him get out of his own apartment. While waiting for him, you decided to do a little cleaning, you had already become a master in "Spencer Reid's ethics for deep cleaning a house", so cleaning the way he likes was easy as pi (as he would say).

While you were trying to get rid of a stain of sauce from a plate you heard a knock, honestly you just walked to the door you didn't even think about the knock not being Spence, so you opened it. There, standing in front of you, was a dark skin man, very tall and ripped, and bald.

You smiled and he looked surprised.

"uhm, I'm sorry, I think I got mixed with the numbers..." he said, checking again the number of the door. "mhm..weird"

"are you looking for Spencer Reid?" you asked, then you saw his face changing from confusion to super confusion.

"I am, yes"

"this is his apartment, he went grocery shopping"

"are you?...staying with him? or are you maybe being tutored or something?" "tutored?" you thought.

"no, I'm his... something" you said, you haven't discussed it yet...so it would be better to just leave it there.

He burst out laughing and held himself in the doorframe, you smiled, thinking it was funny.

"sorry, are you his friend?" you asked

"I'm Morgan, yes, I work with him" he said exchanging hands with you.

"oh!" now it all made sense "yes! of course, he always talks about you, come in please, if you wanna wait for him"

"I do! yes, thank you baby".

You closed the door and waited together for Spence while sipping coffee and chatting, being interrogated too "how'd you too meet?, how long have you been seeing each other?, do you live together?, why hasn't he said anything before?". So many questions you didn't know how far you could answer.

Then, you hear the sound of the keys opening the door.

"inflation is crazy, and old women should learn to calm down, that woman thought I wanted her stupid cat sand and we don't even-" he stood still, observing the image, you, his now 6 month old not girlfriend, and his womanizer attractive coworker, sitting on his couch together while apparently have been drinking the coffee he bought for you.

"hey pretty boy" says Morgan smiling "you didn't tell me you have a girlfriend"

"I uhm...what are you doing here?"

"I wanted to ask you if you- don't avoid my question!" he says standing up, are they gonna fight?, no, he'll finish Spence.

"it's private" he says leaving the bags and looking at you, you just smile, agreeing, it is private...well not so much because everyone knows but it's not like it's official.

"would you like to stay for dinner?" you ask.

"no!" shouts Spence from the kitchen, you and Morgan look at each other and chuckle.

"no, we had a date night planned" he says coming back to you both.

"alright, alright, I'll leave you too alone then...I came because I wanted to ask you where you buy your clothes, I need to wear something like your shirts to an event" he says.

"I'll send you the info later...just leave" he says pushing him out of the house, you laugh.

"goodbye princess" he says and you wave at him.

Spencer closes the door behind him standing with Morgan at the hallway.

"that's a pretty one you have there" says Morgan smiling

"she is, yeah, she's beautiful" Spencer says blushing

"why didn't you tell me?" Morgan asks

"it's just...I wanted to check this was real and not insignificant before saying anything"

"are you gonna ask her to be your girlfriend?" he smiles, he thinks Spence is such a girlfriend dude.

"I will...yeah, but I need to confirm she wants me to be her boyfriend first" he says

"I bet she'll say yes...so, date night huh?". Spence nods "what will your dessert be?" he asks laughing, Spence blushes but smiles and pushes him towards the elevator.

He waves goodbye to Morgan from outside the elevator and then comes back to you (as usual).

When he opens the door you're the first thing to his sight, taking out the groceries.

"so inflation is crazy?" you ask getting closer.

"yeah, and old ladies" he says pouting. "this was horrible, I never imagined Morgan would come to our house".

You smile at the sound of "our" house.

"let's start cooking for our super fun date night" you say and kiss him.

After Morgan leaves, you too start to cook. Tonight's menu is pasta! which you both love, now you're teaching him how to play with the seasonings and discover new flavors, you've made that since you got into Spencer's life, teach him how to experience, not only in cooking, in sports, your culture, places, and a lot of things Spencer always brought up when talking to the team unconsciously.

Now he's chopping garlic next to you, while you open the tomato bottle and pour it in the pot.

"you know? garlic is a great cleaner for the liver, in women it can help with vaginal infections, bloating from menstruation, it can even help the blood flow and It can help reduce bad cholesterol and triglycerides, and increase good cholesterol" he says while putting the garlic into the pot, you smile and kiss his cheek.

"good for me then, how about for you?"

"Garlic may help reduce the risk of cardiovascular disease, strengthen the immune system, as it contains antiviral, antibacterial and antioxidant properties, It can help fight skin infections, such as athlete's foot and ringworm, as well as intestinal infections" he says smiling at you.

"sounds good, we should eat lots of garlic then" you say and kiss his cheek. He smiles and blushes and starts to chop some carrots and meat. You open the cabinet and give him another board for the meat, then you open the drawer and give him another knife.

"different knives and boards baby" you say while taking the pasta from another cabinet.

"right" he says, not in a bad mood though, in a way that shows he understands and listens to you.

When the pasta finishes cooking you mix it with the sauce together, then you both set the table and he runs to the living room.

You take a peek but you aren't able to see anything besides the door, then he puts a red candle on the center of the table and lights it on, you smile and he smiles.

"how prepared" you say teasingly.

He smiles and kisses you, so sweet and comfortable, his lips are where yours should be stored always.

You have dinner discussing a book you read together and how pretty both of you look tonight.

"your friend Morgan's cool" you say.

"yeah, he's funny" he says. You wipe a stain of sauce from his lips and he smiles, almost spitting the pasta from his mouth as you laugh, then he laughs along.

"you make me nervous..." he mumbles looking down at his plate.

"why?" you ask giggling.

"you just do" he says smiling, he leans and kisses you.

After dinner comes dessert, which was shared ice cream while laying on the couch watching a movie, you interrogate him with questions like "what would you do if..., or what do you prefer?..." which makes him laugh but think.

That's your night, those are your nights, as usual, filled with love and laughs, while he strokes the skin he's able to reach. Once he told you he was a germophobe, now you can't believe it because how can Spence, the man that's all day with his hands on you, when you cook, when you get dressed, when you're brushing your teeth at the same time, when you're sleeping, even unconsciously, be a germophobe?.

Soft strokes on your bare leg, his index finger stroking your thighs, then your calves that he pulled on his thighs, then kisses, kisses on your legs which he says he loves so much. Suddenly he's above you, soft kisses from the ice cream and the warmness from his skin covered in a shirt.

You can hear the credits of the now finished movie, but that's not something that's gonna be the principal of your attention, you focus on his lips on yours, on your neck, then on the feeling of his fingers brushing against your skin while unbuttoning your shirt to after feeling him kissing and licking your chest, you focus on thinking about how he's leaving marks on you that say "Spencer was here". Morgan was right, you were gonna be the dessert afterwards.

[yamumsyadadd]

the forgotten girl (11)

originally posted on my old account. Trip loading twice weekly :)

Alexia’s pov 

“Ale please stay. Don’t leave me, please.” Hearing her beg for me not to leave her broke my heart. 

“I’ll be right back bebé, I’m just getting some water.” 

Alba and Mami were sitting on couch when it went out to the kitchen. 

“She asked me not to leave, so I’m going to go back in there. You should go home. Thank you for your help.” I set back off to Amelia’s room. The heart breaking scene of her curled into a ball, her eyes red and swollen, and the sound of sniffles through the air. 

I put her phone on charge and her water bottle on her bed side table, quickly making my way to the other side of the bed and climbing in. Pulling her into my arms and holding her until she fell asleep. After she had been asleep for half an hour, I messaged Keira and Lucy. Telling them I had Mil and asked them to come to her apartment. I didn’t know what to do. Im not good with my own emotions, and helping someone who is so deeply hurt is new to me. 

Keira Walsh: I’m here. Let me in please. 

Reluctantly, I got up, slowly in hopes to not wake Mil. The afternoon sun has lit up the apartment, it was bright and golden, a solemn contrast to the way Mils room felt. Opening the door, I was shocked to see someone else with Keira. Leah Williamson. 

“Hi Alexia.” The England captain shyly said. I opened the door further to let both women in. 

“Sorry, I thought it would be best to call Leah. She knows everything that happened with Milly and she got on the first flight here.” I nodded my head in understanding, that was smart in Keira’s behalf. 

“Is she asleep?” 

“Yeah. She was at the beach surfing and Mami bought us back here. She was just sitting in the shower with boiling water on her, she looked.” I had to take a second to compose myself, I would not be crying in front of Leah. “She looked broken.”

Keira and Leah just looked at each other. Sharing knowing looks and then Leah spoke up. 

“She said she loved you, right? That’s what caused this?” 

“Yes.” 

“I think we should all sit down. You need to hear this Alexia.” 

There were a few things in this world that make me anxious. Meeting my sisters new girlfriends, doing interviews in English, teenage boys and Amelia Higgins. 

“Okay so obviously you know the public details of what happened with Emily and her?” 

“Si” 

“Emily was going to end things. She had written down on a piece of paper everything she wanted to say. Basically consisted of that she was still in love with Mil. Mil was still her favourite person and that Mil was her soulmate, but Emily wasn’t hers.”

“Right? Okay?”

“Emily always knew that Mils heart didn’t completely belong to her. I think she hoped that over time it would change but it never did. Mil has always loved you.” 

I didn’t say anything. This was a lot to take in, her own friends telling me she has always loved me? What could’ve happened if I had said something earlier? Ended things with Jenni earlier? 

“Ale.” Keira grabbed my hands, taking my attention away from ripping my nails off. “She doesn’t want to love you because she’s scared. After being given the note, she blamed herself. Mil thinks she caused this. She doesn’t want anything to happen to you or to your family. If you truly love her like I think you do, you’ll need to let her come to you. There’s nothing more I want than to see you both happily together but that won’t happen unless she comes to you.” 

“I’ll wait for her. I don’t care how long it takes but I won’t leave her.” 

We didn’t talk after that, the sun started setting and they were talking about ordering food for dinner. 

“I think I’m going to go home. I think it’ll, uh, it’ll be better if I’m not here when she wakes up.” 

Before Leah or Keira could reply, Amelia yelled out from the bedroom.

“Alexia? Alexia? Fuck ale please come back. I need you to come back.” her voice broke, thinking I’d left her when she needed me the most. Running back into the room, I quickly climbed into the bed and pulled her into my chest. 

“No amor. I’m here. I’m not leaving you, okay? I’m here.” I felt her nod her head against my chest, then her tears slowly wet my shirt. I didn’t care about Keira or Leah in the lounge room, all I cared about was Amelia and making sure she felt safe and comfortable. 

Leah came in a short while later, letting me know she would be staying in the spare room and to yell out if either of us needed anything. As I lay there with Amelia’s head on my chest, her arms wrapped tightly around my waist, and mine around hers, the only thing I could think of is how I could get used to this feeling. Selfish I know but it’s the truth. 

By 9pm, the house was completely quiet and dark. Everyone was sleeping or enjoying the peaceful evening. 

As the sun came through Amelia’s bedroom curtains, I felt lighter. Slowly opening my eyes I noticed she wasn’t in the room, the side of the bed she slept in was cold, her phone was gone and her favourite hoodie and wetsuit that hung on the back of her door. She was surfing. Of course. Deciding now was the best time to leave and go back to my own house, I quickly made her bed, opened her bedroom window and got the bottles of water to put in the bin. 

I had forgotten Leah was there, Keira seemingly had come too. 

“Morning capi” Keira handed over coffee. 

“Gracias.” Inhaling the smell of coffee before taking the first sip. 

“Is she awake?” Leah jerked her head towards the door. 

“She’s surfing.” No one said anything for a moment. “I’m gonna go. I’ll see you later.” Turning quickly , before either could stop me. 

I sat in my car contemplating what to do, I thought about messaging Alba, but it was too complicated. Mapi was next, but again, complicated. The only person I truly wanted to talk to was Amelia. But I wasn’t sure if she wanted that. Despite the thoughts telling me to leave her alone, I made my way to the beach. Stopping to get her a coffee so she could have it when she got out. 

Since it was still early, it was easy to park and find her stuff. I made myself comfortable and waited. I didn’t have to wait too long because she had noticed me and started making her way back to the shore. 

“I got you a coffee. Caramel latte right?” I asked as I handed it to her. 

“Thanks Ale.” She sat down, closer to me than usual. 

Silence engulfed us. 

“So Leah’s here huh?” She said more as a question than a statement. 

“Yeah. She came last night. Keira rang her apparently and she got on the first flight.” 

“I don’t know how to do this Ale.” She whispered, I turned to look at her, confused. 

“Do what?” 

“Us. It was easier when I lived in England. I didn’t have to see you everyday, be close to you, listen to you laugh at something Mapi said or watch you with Vicky and Jana. I could watch you from a distance, love you from a distance. But now? Now I’m here and it’s almost too much. It’s so-“ 

“Overwhelming?” 

“Yeah.” 

“I feel the same way.” She rested her head on my shoulder, my arm wrapping around her shoulder. 

We stayed like that for a while. It was nice. But it wouldn’t last. 

[yeonmuse]

WHICH FLOOR? | Day 14

PAIRING vocalist & drummer mingi x stranger reader

WORD COUNT | 1.4k

GENRE Smut

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT ‼️

SUMMARY two complete strangers meet in an elevator, how could this possibly escalate?

MORE | Day 14 of the Groupie Love Series

You were completely fucking exhausted, a night of concerts, drinking and afterparties had you completeky beat. You were more than happy the moment you stepped into the elevator of your hotel. As you close your eyes for a moment of rest, and lie your head against the elevator wall you could sense the presence of someone else stepping onto the elevator. It's when you hear the doors close and you feel the movement of the elevator that you open your eyes and they land on him who had already been staring at you.

That someone was none other than song mingi, one of the hottest drummers to ever grace the stage. The very drummer that you had just seen perforning hours ago.

“Which floor?”

“Hm?” You had been a little too busy checking him out to even register a thing that he had been saying. Of course it didn’t go unnoticed by him.

“You didn’t press anything, what floor are you on?”

“15.” You respond dryly, trying to brush off the fact that you wanted absolutely nothing more than to jump his bones right now. As he pressed the number to you he seemed to observe you for a moment.

“You look like you had a fun night.”

“Do i?”

“Mm looks like it to me, otherwise it's just a waste of an outfit.” He responds, drinking you in from head to toe.

“Mm i wouldn’t call your concert and street party a waste, thanks to your band i had a good time.”

“Oh? Too bad I didn’t see you there, I think I could have elevated your time a little more.”

“Is that right? Even with all your groupies lined up at your door?”

“Kinda disappointing that you yourself weren’t one of them” It was like he was challenging you to bite back, and one thing about you you never backed down from a challenge.

“Mm sorry but I prefer your lead guitarist, though I am truly flattered.” He chuckles at your response and Before you had known it he had stopped the elevator and caged you between himself and the wall.

“I’m sure with a little alone time I can change your mind.” He gave you no time to resist, not that you would anyways, the way your fingers tangled in his hair almost instantaneously gave him all the confirmation he needed.

He wasted no time tearing off your clothes and lifting you against the wall before going between your thighs. He eyed your every reaction as he slid his tongue through your folds, his eyes flickering with a desperate hunger as he became overwhelmed with the heat of your body and the sweet sounds that left your lips. As your eyes met his and you spotted that cocky smirk on his lips, part of you wanted to pull away. To not give him the satisfaction of knowing he had you feeling quite weak. With a soft chuckle he immediately pulled his face from between your legs and licked his lips. He could tell you were struggling with your desires along with your urge to spite him. He knew very well you were annoyed with how confident he was in the way he could make you crumble, you knew he must have done this countless times with countless women but honestly you couldn’t care less.

“Still thinking about hongjoong?” a devilish smirk covered his lips and as he leaned down to slide his tongue over your thigh he felt your body jerk beneath him. His long tongue slipped between your folds as he eyed you continue to struggle with your thoughts. You couldn’t believe that even when he had you in such a compromising position he was bringing up his band mate.

“Go on angel, tell me how much you like him yeah? Is he your favorite sweetheart?” Before you could manage even one word his lips wrapped around your lips and he began to suck at your clit. This earned a frustrated moan from you, when he treated your body in such ways there was no way you’d let out any words that were remotely coherent.

“I’m waiting doll, let me hear it.” His tongue began to lap at your folds like he was hungry for it. his nails digging into your thighs with every whine or moan of pleasure that spilled from your lips. It made him hungrier for it, hungrier to hear you crying and begging beneath him.

When he was met with continued silence he removed his lips from your soaked cunt to kiss along your thighs. His teeth grazed the skin of your inner thighs earning a whimper on your part. A whimper that didn’t go unnoticed by him caused him to do it again. His eyes remained trained on your face as he continued to tease your body with his teeth and tongue alone. He felt your grip on his hair tighten

"Quit playing with me and just fuck me already, you’re going to do it whether I like him or not right?.'' You could practically feel the smirk on his lips against your thigh.

“I’ll make sure to train you well enough that any time you even look at him you’ll only think about the way I fucked you in this elevator.”

“He’s certainly hard to forget-” before you could even finish you felt him push past your entrance stretching you out until he fully bottomed out inside you. Your tightness earned a low growl from him as he pushed so deep you could have sworn you felt him hit the top of your stomach

“Go on, finish your sentence doll.” He continued to jerk his hips up into you knowing that if he kept at it you wouldn’t be able to say a word.

He watched the blissed out look on your face with every little thrust inside you.

“Funny, the moment you get stuffed like a pretty little cocksleeve you immediately go mute.” A chuckle spilled past his lips and he immediately spread your legs wider and pushed your thighs back against your chest. Your moans were evident enough that whatever pain you felt if any had gone away. He wasted no time fucking into you, rough and feverish thrusts from the very beginning. Thrusts that caused your eyes to roll to the back of your head so hard you saw stars.

Your nails dug into the only available surface they could latch onto; his shoulders. He watched as your mouth fell open, lines of saliva dripping down your chin as gargled moans spilled past your lips.

“Fuck.” The sound of your desperate cries and stifled moans spilling from your lips was like heaven. He immediately leans down to take your nipple between his lips while his other hand fondles your breasts. The pleasure had been overwhelming your bodies in ways you hadn’t thought to be possible. From the flicking of his tongue against your breasts every time he thrusted in to you feeling like the more he fucked the deeper into your stomach his cock seemed to push.

“Look at you pretty girl, you like him so much yet here you are taking my dick like some sort of cockslut, do you think he’d still fuck you if he knew his bandmate got to you first?” Your thoughts had been so cloudy that you could barely even make out anything he had been talking to you about.

“I bet you’d like to get tossed around by us right? You don’t really have a favorite do you? Such a pretty little whore gonna cum all over my cock, all while thinking about how all of us could use you.” He immediately rested one hand on your waist while resting the other on your stomach and pushing down. He wanted to feel just how far his cock could go inside your little frame. This action was all it took to push you over the edge, the moment he pushed down upon your stomach your legs shook and it was a glorious sight for him to see you squirt upon the impact of his hand. Your legs shook violently as his thrusts grew in speed and the low growls that spilled from his mouth made it all more easy for you to unravel right then and there, your cum spilling out onto his cock along with the desk in mere seconds. Mingi wasnt too far behind as the fucked out look on your face and the way your tight cunt clenched around him was all he needed for him to spill his load into you.

“Tomorrow.” He tilts your head up and brushes his thumb over your swollen lips.

“I check out tomorrow, be ready to go by 8 o'clock. The others wouldn’t mind if you tagged along for the rest of the tour.”

[keelt9]

Paper 3

Masterlist

A/N: Happy New Year! 🥳 I’m sorry for the delay, but here is the final paper. 

The support has been amazing, I hope you enjoyed this, because I really have so much fun writing it. 💙

Thank you so much for reading.🍒

The first phase was quite simple, most of the work will be in charge of Isabell and Gonzalo; Max only has to focus on racing.

With the excuse that Gonzalo will cover the races after the summer break, he pretends to watch all of them; every Sunday his sister-in-law without knowing will be softly bombarded with images and the voice of Max.

As Isabell anticipated, the first months she fought for barely put attention to anything related too, until Brazil where after a few races where Max wasn't at the podium, he came back in an unbelievable drive.

"Are you sure she said that?" Max covers his left ear trying to hear among all the noise of the club.

Isabell sighs. "Max I was next to her, I swear she said that." 

Max smirks, unable to comprehend how a few words, not even from the person you want to hear, cause these feelings in him.

"I'm sorry but can you repeat it?" He sounds stupid he knows that.

"I told you, he won. He's totally unbelievable." Isabell said for the third time.

Max scoffs as he sees Daniel rolling his eyes among the crowd. 

"We're such good plan makers." Isabell giggles. "Keep enjoying the night Max, we're in contact."

However, the little elf always has her ways to take him by surprise.

After Qatar with the Champions secured Max is on cloud nine in less than a month he will meet her again.

After the celebrations Max leaves one day after.; with an awful hangover as goes to the airfield, Isabell's phone call distracts him from his headache.

"Isabell hi, wha..." She didn't even let him end the sentence.

"Hey, Max, by any chance is there something symbolic between you two?” Max can clearly hear, she closes a door.

“What?” He sat inside of his jet trying to forget the headache. “Partners in crime are supposed to tell even the smallest detail.”

Isabell chuckles. “You’re doing your part, this is on me.” The silence that follows from Max, was enough for Isablle speaks one more time.

“We need to do something. She's convinced of giving a chance to John." Max is dizzy but he never heard that name. 

He covers his eyes, trying to clear his head. "Who?"

"John, the boy I talked to you about." Max's mind clears, like someone throws at him a tray of cold water.

"The one who confesses..." He simply can finish that phrase.

"Yeah, that one." Isabell cleared her throat. "Listen, I don't know what happened but… Don’t worry, ok? Just give me something and I’ll be able to handle this.”

Max's head spins around this time, unsure if it’s totally for the alcohol or the way to remember something in this state is more difficult.

A couple of seconds later, he knows what to do. “Just make sure she sees a video when I tell you, ok?” 

“Am, ok?” Isabell is about to say another thing until Max hears Gonzalo calling for her with what you can hear a crying baby in his hands. 

“Let me take charge of this Isabell, I bet someone needs you more than me.” Max giggles.

“At this point I think both of you could need the same person. Wait a second.” Isabell mentioned, before screaming. “Hey! Sis! Someone is looking for you.” 

Isabell tends to do this for Max, if she can help him to hear her, she will gladly do.

“Hi, baby girl.” It’s still unusual to hear her, her voice doesn’t change so much, but you can notice, the little girl is already grown up. “Your dad is being bad with you?” 

Noah laughs. “Come on! When you’re here, she forgot she had lovely and amazing parents.” Gonzalo jokes making everyone giggle.

“Santa won’t bring you anything this Christmas.” Max smirks but even now, he refuses to imagine her, he wants to see her face to face. “Right Noah?”

“Do you mind? I have to make an important call, could you…” Isabell said like she isn’t in the middle of a call. 

She laughs. “Another one who won’t have a present under the tree.”

Isabell laughs as Max hears steps getting far away. “Sorry Max, but…”

“I let you know about the video, now go, I bet you’re in the middle of a reunion.” Max takes his bottle of water to open it.

“We keep in contact Max, thanks.” 

Max drinks his water with one thing in mind, he just needs to go back to the basics.

“What?” Max takes the things he will need for the video. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Abu Dhabi is the last race; with the Championships secured he is just there to enjoy what he can the last race. 

One of the girls brings a thermometer as the other girl grabs the phone trying to figure out what he just asked. 

“Come on, girls, this isn…” The other put the thermometer on his mouth, waiting with her arms crossed. 

“You think we should call a doctor?” The girl with the phone shakes her head. “He could have something contagious.” 

That makes everyone laugh as the beep announces it’s time to take it out. All normal, he doesn't have a fever.

“Ok, can you repeat it one more time Max?” Max scoffs and rolls his eyes.

“I want to do the marketing thing, you know with all these.” The two girls looked at each other in disbelief. “Please.”

The girl with the phone speaks trying to find sense to all he’s saying. “It’s a Christmas thing, it’s originally planned for…”

“I know, but it’s been a tough year, it would be nice, right?” Max smiles at them. 

“Ok, likes are likes.” The girl with the phone gave him the last instructions before starting recording.

It’s a 30 second video that could easily be published without someone editing it, Max said what he must, however he put his little touch on it.

“Can I see it?” He asks by the time people start to spread searching for the next victim. 

The girl gives him the phone, as he nods.

Max has a Christmas hat and a pair of navy blue gloves. He wished merry christmas and a happy new year, full of love and peace hoping all their wishes make it true.

Waving both hands with gloves at the end of the video.

“That friend is that special, huh?” The girl asks him, seeing how his face turns in a soft pink. 

Max narrows his eyes, giving the phone to the girl. “You never wear gloves Max.” 

He opens his eyes, is that obvious? “I’ll let you know when we post it, I hope this works to get closer to her.”

Max takes the gloves and the hat, hoping the same. 

 >It works!

Isbaell texted him a day after the release of the video. She doesn’t have a clue of how but with the topic in the air about spending Christmas in Benasque like the old times, her sister agrees to go one more time.

Isabell by accident let her phone replaying the video as they were having lunch; that night her sister said the most simple thing.

“I want to go too.” Winning the eyes of all her family. “It would be nice, like when we were kids.”

That’s all Max needs, from that moment on, all is on him.

With a stunned expression from his family he let them know this Christmas he will spend it in Benasque.

“Max…” Victoria thought it’s the same reckless decision every year. “It’s been almost a year, and no one contacted you, so there is a big chance she has already forgotten it.”

Max shakes his head, taking another bite of his salad. “I know.” 

“Then why?” Victoria let her glass on the table loudly, making her brother look at her.

“I believe in the big guy.” Max points the fluffy toy of Santa Claus in the Christmas tree. 

Victoria covers her face, knowing this is useless like every year.

Max arrived one week earlier to make all the arrangements he needs, going one side to the other; a lot of the people of the town look at him like he’s totally crazy and other like he’s seeing the little kid who used to be dragged for his little friend as she they keep rambling about the most silly things.

As Isabell said, they arrived on the 22nd of December, the first day all would be casual, like years ago, just with a few people added to the plan.

His little elf spent the first day making a new tour, changing the order of a few places she used to visit, with different hours. In each one of them a warm welcome waits for her all saying the same, it’s nice having her here one more time.

The second day, she made a short one this time with baby Noah, showing the palaces where she and her mother used to play and spend time when they were kids.

Here is where the owner of the clockmaker's workshop made the special intervention, mentioning like some things are destined to be.

Finally the 24th of December it’s the day. 

“Are you sweating on the snow?” Louis asked him, waiting to make his special performance.

Max scoffs smiling, but yes, his hands feel wet. “A little bit?” 

Louis nods, as they sit in front of the big old clock. “Is she what the old people call, true love?”

Max narrowed his eyes, such a deep question for a 7 year old boy. “My mom said that from my dad and my dad said that from my mom. So I guess if you’re doing this for a friend, it must be, right?”

Max doesn’t have time to answer because the lady of the bakery appears on the corner with a beanie on her head, his little elf already passed by and bought her favorite cookie, white chocolate chips.

“That's my sign, good luck sweaty man.” Max giggles, if Santa can’t bring what he wants for Christmas, he and Louis' mother already made a deal.

Louis runs to the bookstore as Max runs to the other side ready to take his place.

Max can picture the sequence, Louis with one blue paper in his pockets, will found the girl wearing a blue navy coat and a cookie in her hand; he will wish her a merry Christmas giving her the paper, claiming if she wouldn’t mind to take this to the old clockmaker's workshop, knowing she’s stubborn for making people wish true, she would open it, and will read it.

 >Please go to the funny tree.

The funny tree is an old tree in the limits of the town, with a big twisted trunk and a lot of branches. Since they found it, swear in spring this must be insane, full of green leaves all over the place.

She will turn around to ask him how he knows but the kid will be running to the bakery for his dozen cookies.

Max moves around the tree with trembling hands pressing together, putting in his pocket just for a second later taking them out, unable to stay calm.

Not everything goes according to the plan.

Max hears a shaking breath while he is at the back of the tree, raising his eyes he finds her with a shock expression on her face. 

Max curses inside because he wants to surprise her.

“Little elf.” Max said feeling all the energy of his body drained in a couple of words.

She’s beautiful as always, the red tones of her face due the cold already there, her big eyes looking at him; her lips that used to be with a soft pink, now are a little bit red too. She’s taller, not more than him but the old little girl is far gone.

“Max.” She said as a smile formed in her face. 

Max, along 10 years, believes there isn’t another sound in the world that he loves more than her laughs. Now, the simple way his name sounds in her voice makes it a tough competition. 

She laughs at the fact Max is frozen in his place in front of a tree with Christmas lights around dry branches. Like always, she takes the initiative and runs to him to hug him standing in her tiptoes; her arms around his neck hiding her face on his shoulders. 

“It’s actually you.” Max's brain stops working and he curses himself inside, by the fact it took him 1 minute to move his arms around her waist.

It’s surreal having her one more time, like this.

“Fuck! I miss you like hell.” He said, hearing her giggling. “I’m so sorry for not coming that year but I was so busy, it was my big chance and all of us believe leaving the UK it's a stupid decision but I came the next year and you…”

She grabs his face, crashing their lips in a soft peck.

“Why do you always say so much when all you h..” Max doesn't waste any second more, he is sick of it.

He grabs her face but this time his kiss is demanding, showing how much he missed her all these years… and how much he loves her. 

With her face between his hands and a big smile on both faces, so close to each other, Max whispers to her lips.

“Like I suspect…” She narrows her eyes. “It’s always been you.”

She giggles, throwing her arms around his neck one more time. “What a relief because this will be so awkward.”

Max smiles, giving her a peck. “I’m Y/N, by the way.”

Louis is right, this is what true love feels; for Max, now has a name, Y/N.

Max nods repeating the name over and over again, like he could forget it. 

“You’re still frozen hands.” She said as Max put his hands in her pockets pulling her closer. “Can I ask you something?”

Max nods with a glimpse of fear in his eyes. “How?”

“12 paper wishes, a few streams, a reporter, a whole marketing team, a duo of helpers….” Max raises his eyebrows “And a baby.”

Y/N eyes wide open. “My sister? Do you… She isn’t…”

“She wanted me kind of far away…” Max sees her biting her lip. “I was willing to do it. I got it, she only wants the best for her little sister.”

“Although…” She raises her eyes and tingles her fingers with Max inside of her pocket.

“It took me a while, I'm not going to lie, I want to make sure to make the right decision for both of us.” The golden lights that reflected in her eyes made Max’s heart beat like crazy.

“Then I came back here…As you did after snowing in Rome, like me every Christmas, and I realized what you do, as always first.” It was a charming feeling having a clear image of the face from this wonderful woman sitting in front of T.V watching him race every week, probably rolling her eyes at every rage attack he had.

“That I love you.” A trembling breathing begins unsure from who came first.

“M..” He can't resist, having her so close it feels breathtaking. 

He takes one hand out of her pocket to grab her face and kiss her.

“Why? I mean how can you trust me so easily?" Y/N observe right to his eyes with a pledging expression.

Max licks his lips. "You didn't even know who I was and you kept encouraging me, you watched all my races, fought to keep all our promises, worried about me even in the slightest things... You keep me warm and make me believe in magic from an early age." 

Y/N chuckles as her free hand rests on his neck. "If that's not love, I don't know what the hell is that?" Y/N clicks her tongue.

"You could lie to me." Max laughs, resting his forehead against hers.

"Do you see that?" He closed his eyes after seeing the backpack next to the tree.”You’ll have a lot of red these days, believe me.”

“What?” Y/N perks at his back, seeing the black backpack.

“I’ll write to you every day.” The tears form in her eyes, Y/N swear Max moved on from this bond many years ago, this is something she didn't even dare to dream. 

“Or… You know, just in case I can steal you for a couple of days.” She grabs his jacket. “You could read it to me.”

Max remembers the day where they sat in front of the old clockmaker's workshop, as he read to her Christmas stories, with the firm purpose that a little of the Chritsmas spirit caught him.

“Deal.” Max sighs. “Do you think I can steal you for more than a couple of days?” 

Y/N raises her eyebrows tilting her head. “You  know…”

“I have never been to Monaco.” Max surrenders her waist with his arms giving her a peck.

“I can give you a small tour.” Y/N grabs his face, giving him a peck. “Let’s go, we’re on time.”

“For what?” Y/N careness his hair. 

“Write a wish for Santa Claus.” Max hasn’t realized it’s been a while he felt this way, so lighter and in calmness.

“In a pretty paper?” Max chuckles, nodding before pressing her against his chest, connecting two hearts. 

The old man observes the other side of the street, what used to be two small kids, one boy looking so marvelous to a girl who is writing every letter so carefully; now it turns into a man and a woman writing face to face with a smile stealing small kisses every time their eyes meet. 

He leaned on the counter next to the big Santa Claus. 

“It’s a secret between you and me, but let’s be honest, we started all this.” The old man smirks when he sees Max and Y/N folding their papers. “And your magic mailbox.”

They cross the street to open the red mailbox, put their wishes in, then waving their hands to the old man in his classic red velvet suit. 

Now they’re the young adults that go down the street holding hands hoping a Christmas wish comes true.

“Merry Christmas kids.” The old man whispers and sees Max’s left hand on Y/N pocket, as he takes the box inside. “Just a small glance.” 

The old man smiles while folding the papers one more time. These wishes…are so precious.  

[hurlumerlu]

Thicker than

A short THK fic (AO3)

"I’ll explain later," said Kant, something Babe knew to translate by I’ll wait for you to forget about it. He didn’t see how he would, this time. "For now, just tell me you understood."

"I understood."

"So if Bison asks if you’re alright?"

"I say I managed to hide, and you found me before the bullies did."

"Good. Now tell it to me in different words."

"You know this isn’t my first lie, right? You don’t have to coach me through it."

"Humor me."

"I outran them and hid before you arrived."

"Good." Kant repeated. He wasn’t slowing down and it put Babe on edge: his brother never rushed, or more accurately never let it show when he did. Everything had been off since he’d asked for that phone call.

"What if I don’t play along?" That stopped Kant. When he turned, Babe almost took a step back. "I was only jo–"

"I’m sorry," Kant interrupted, "and it’s the last time I ask you something like this. But promise me you’ll lie."

"Yeah, okay. I’m not, like, allergic or any–"

"Promise me, Babe."

"I promise. You’ll explain later?"

"Sure. Come on, he must be there already."

The night got even weirder after that.

"Here’s what I still don’t get, though" said Babe. "You like him."

Kant sighed. "This ain’t really about me." A serious contender for Most Kant Answer Ever, though Babe hadn’t heard it in a while.

He set the dry plate on top of the others. "I think he likes you too."

"Believe it or not" – Kant was scrubbing a little too energetically. Babe had painted that glass when he was eight and, ugly as it was, his brother always washed it with the utmost care – "it ain’t really about him either."

That was a new one. Babe took the glass from Kant’s hand and rinsed it himself. "Who is it about, then?" Wet spoons were handed out to him without so much as a look. He hadn't even finished drying the glass. "Is this when you tell me that whatever you’re doing, you’re doing it for us?"

"You told me to stop saying that."

Babe remembered that argument. Of course, what he’d actually wanted was for his brother to stop thinking that way, but he’d thought that had been clear. Maybe it had been. He should still have been clearer.

"Are we not going to talk about the gun at all?"

"He’s had a rough life, you know." Kant replied in his worst parent-teacher meeting voice. "He just needs to unlearn a few things."

Babe gave up.

don’t wait 4 me tonite, said the text. leftovers in the fridge. If u want 2 invite Knot cool but no alcohol

Bison again? Babe texted back. He might not get an answer, but that wasn’t a reason not to try.

Well. A victory sign emoji was an answer, he supposed.

Where are you going?

😎.

Typical. Babe had read the work of some master wordsmiths, but he would never not be impressed by his brother’s ability to convey Mind your business without a word.

Have fun, then. If that’s indeed the goal.

In a true feat of human communication, the next 😎 he received felt even more pointed.

"Ah," said Kant. "You’re here."

"Sorry." Babe blinked against the flood of light. "Gave my bed to Knot. I didn’t think you’d come home tonight." Kant’s sheets didn’t smell like him – he had changed them this morning – but there was an undeniable comfort to sleeping in his room. And it was miles better than laying awake next to Knot, wondering what amount of incidental contact you could get away with before you fell into creep territory. "You had a good time?"

"Hm."

Kant hadn’t moved, fingers still on the lightswitch. He was, technically, looking at Babe. It didn’t feel like he was looking at anything at all.

Babe got up, feet against the cool floor. "Kant?" But he couldn’t ask are you okay: Kant always replied yes. "Is Bison alright?"

When he got pulled into a hug, Babe didn’t resist. He had so many questions, the list ever growing, yet with his brother clinging to him like this – like he hadn’t done in years, like it would be the last time, like a drowning man struggling to stay afloat – he knew he wouldn’t voice any of them.

He closed his eyes, inhaled, and clung back.

[theocddiaries]

Rouge: I can’t take it anymore. Having Eggman living with us is driving me crazy. Shadow: There’s only one thing we can do. Omega: …ELIMINATE HIM…? Shadow: No. We need to tell him. He lives with us now, so he’s on equal footing. Omega: NEGATIVE. I DEMAND A VOTE IF THERE ARE MORE THAN TWO OPTIONS. [Eggman comes back home.] Shadow: Ivo. Wait. We need to talk to you about living here. Robotnik: No need. Look, I’m really grateful you opened the door of your home to me when I was in need. I wouldn’t have done it for you. You’ve taught me a lesson. In fact, I’m not sure I want to leave. Rouge: What? Robotnik: Yeah, it’s the first time I feel like I have a family. I mean, one made of flesh and blood. I feel something here in my stomach… what’s it called? That thing the blue pest feels when he’s with his friends? Revenge? Shadow: Happiness. Robotnik: That thing. Anyway, I’m not leaving because, on top of everything, you make me feel comfortable. [sniffs]: Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a tear in my eye. [leaves] Rouge: …Did you hear that? Shadow: Yeah… He spends his whole life being a jerk, and now… Rouge: No. He said he’s not leaving because we make him feel cared for and comfortable. We know what we have to do, right? Omega: …ELIMINATE HIM…? Rouge: No! We have to make him uncomfortable so he’ll leave on his own! Omega: OBJECTION. IF THERE ARE TWO OPTIONS, THEY MUST BE DECIDED BY VOTE. [Later. Team Dark is slumped on the couch, defeated.] Rouge: Chaos… I’ve never seen anything like it. We set up karaoke at three in the morning, and he wanted to join in. We burned his food, and he appreciated it more because it reminded him of the garbage his mother used to cook. We even pushed him down the stairs, and all we got was a ten-minute hug because we fixed his hip. Shadow: Unbelievable. Now’s the time his luck changes? Well, there’s only one thing left to do. Omega: ELIMINATE HIM. Shadow: Stop with that! We’ll just have to deal with it and live with him. Rouge: No, no, no. If there are more than two options, we vote. Shadow: Rouge…! [Eggman walks into the living room, heading to the kitchen.] Robotnik: Hello, my dear friends. All three: Hey… [There’s a moment of silence. Eggman returns, adjusting his mustache and smiling stiffly.] Robotnik: So, um… My dear roommates, I don’t want to get angry, but… you didn’t buy my yogurts. Rouge: I did. Look properly. Robotnik: Look, the only bat in this house is you, so spare me the easy jokes… Shadow: Sonic must’ve taken them when he came by for the food drive, then. Robotnik: …What? Shadow: Yeah, they’re doing a holiday campaign. The same as every year. Donating clothes, food… Robotnik: MY yogurts. Shadow: Sorry, I didn’t notice. I’ll go buy more now… Robotnik: Unbelievable. I let you take me in, I bring joy and good humor, and this is the thanks I get? Forgetting is one thing. Eating them, fine, I can deal with the downsides of cohabitation. But giving them away for a good cause? You just crossed the line! [Eggman slams his door. Moments later, he emerges with a suitcase, spits on the floor, and storms out the house. Rouge, Shadow, and Omega exchange glances.] [A little while later, Eggman stands at the door with his suitcase. He rings the doorbell.] Robotnik: Guys? Hello? Soooo, what a silly argument earlier, huh… Come on, I forgive you… Look, we all said things. Yours worse than mine, but I’ll admit my small share of blame. [Rings the doorbell and knocks on the door]: Guys! [Clicks his tongue and pulls out keys]: These lazy jerks made me use the key—Wait, what the hell… Did you change the locks? I was gone for ten minutes! Hey!!! HEY!!! [The next morning, Sonic and Tails are at Team Dark’s house.] Tails [opening the fridge]: Why is Eggman asleep in your yard? Rouge: Because your brother took his yogurts. Sonic: I didn’t take any yogurts. Shadow: Yes, you did. Yesterday. Sonic: No, no, no. I swear, I didn’t take them. Tails [pulls an unopened yogurt pack from the fridge]: You mean these? Rouge: And where were they? Omega: HIDDEN BEHIND THE PEAR JUICE THAT DR. EGGMAN HATES. All: … …

[assectations]

@spiritgaze: "Blood magic is a tool, nothing more. It's the wielder who determines its purpose." | Dragon Age inspired sentences, quotes & prompts.

It's not the first time someone has defended the practice of something controversial. Whether as a way to pass the time, or a heated discussion born of staunch ideals. Thedan's were as varied as they were diverse, composed of odds and evens. No two quite alike, even in their similarities. It's part of what made it all so thrilling, in the right company. Blood Magic however — trod a nebulous, thorny road, lit by the still smouldering corpses and ruins of it's victims and practioners. Few had anything remotely positive to say about it, and those that did, well — they were never the type of people you stuck around long enough to figure out the intentions of.

Luc might've been right in that a tool was a tool. But certain tools attracted a certain type of individuals, a humble baker wouldn't reach for a poisoned blade nor the seasoned templar for a rolling pin to see their jobs done. For every supposedly good intentioned person who delved into it's realm, dozens more drank deep for power and revenge.

Rhen deliberates, mulling over his thoughts silent and fleet footed as the bird whose plumage forms the mantle resting over his shoulders. He'd heard once, from a haggard mage he'd met when pursuing a contract in ayesleigh, that those who practioned it were spurned by the fade, and flocked to by all the terrors that Mages knew lurked beyond. "Blood Magic isn't just a tool though, is it." He eventually says, head tilting to watch them. "If it ever was just a benign tool — it's evolved far beyond it. It makes victims out of everyone."

[venombloom]

@winterfromtevinter ☆ Cont.

"We can make a night of it. We all need a bit of booze filled unwinding once in a while." Rook chuckles. There's a momentary pause in the entryway. Head swivels, tilting at certain angles --- truly an odd sight. Yet when the light they've been afforded doesn't reveal even the slightest glint of string or wire, she cautiously enters the room.

Her footsteps are light while her eyes do an initial search of the room. "Something sweet, eh? Hmmm...well in terms of wine of course the obvious choice is dessert wine. Like a, uh, Moscato or even a strawberry rose`."

Barely does a toe touch a tile when she notices it seems loose. Tools are grabbed from her pack and as she works, Rook rambles on. "But for something sweet that isn't wine, mead. Especially one that's made with a floral honey." It takes a steady hand and just a few minutes more till there's a clicking sound behind the walls and the tile now lays flush with the others.

One last inspection is given before Daisy turns back to Neve, a rather proud grin upon her lips, beckoning to the other that it's safe to enter.

"Now there's two things I'm good at. Disarming traps and getting drunk."

[cxpperhead]

🔪

Send 🔪 to walk in on my muse standing over a dead body.

The sewers are not one of Copperhead's favourite haunts. While the darkness is a thing he's comfortable with, the cold and the damp rubs his scales the wrong way and the rank stench of Gotham's Underbelly fogs his sense of smell for hours. It's only when desperate prey slips into the sewers that Copperhead is forced to follow after them, and from what he's heard during his time in Gotham, it's a place he does well to avoid. Imagine his surprise when he learns he's not the only reptilian metahuman in the world. It's part of the reason why Copperhead came all the way to Gotham in the first place despite the horrid winters. Sure, the opportunity to commit crime more freely had its allure but the thought that he's not alone, that he's not just one scaled freak in a world of normal people had him wistful for... something - he didn't know what, but he made the long trek from Arizona to here all the same. Now that he was staring down into the open sewer, Copperhead was wondering if perhaps he'd made the wrong choice. He didn't know much about this Killer Croc, only that he was large, and especially dangerous. A scaled behemoth who skulked beneath Gotham's streets and struck fear into the hearts of those who caught a glimpse of him, but he existed. Copperhead had watched the news, read articles to know there was truth to them, but he didn't know how well one like him would be received, or even welcomed as a kindred spirit. It wasn't as though there were welcome signs hanging up in places, but his quarry had slipped down here so it must be safe enough to venture into for now. Serpentine tongue flickers to access his surroundings as Copperhead descends the slime-coated walls. There are scents everywhere amidst the stench of humid rot and fetid water, of rats and their leavings. There's rotten food littered here and there too, dropped or scavenged by the teaming rodent hordes that threaten to swell before too long but Copperhead filters them out, instead focusing on the scent that drew him here... There! A lingering scent rubbed against the wall betrays where the one he was hunting has gone and Copperhead continues on, his eyes on the water at all times in fears (or hopes) of seeing a pair not so different his own. Was Killer Croc even down here? Or was he elsewhere, in another part of the city perhaps? Copperhead supposed it didn't matter much right now. He would cross that bridge when he came to it, but first he had a rat to catch and pursued his target relentlessly, eventually cornering him not five minutes later.

The last gasps of a dying man is rarely pleasant to hear. Copperhead is hanging over the water, claws clutching the ceiling as the struggling figure in his coils thrashes and squirms, growing weaker as the seconds pass. It's not long before white-knuckled fingers let go of his tail and sag bonelessly before Copperhead snaps the neck to make sure the man is well and truly dead, and then he freezes. There's another scent in the air though, and the serpent metahuman glances around, at the shadows and the waters before noticing he's no longer quite as alone as he thought. He looks guilty as all hell holding a dead body, and in Croc's territory no less but it's all Copperhead can do but speak out loud, and politely no less to let the sewer's true inhabitant he meant no harm. "Sorry, I hope he wasn't one of yours." The snake-like metahuman comments softly, wincing a little at how sound reverberate down here in these depths. It's a stark reminder that the surface is quite a bit further away than he likes, if Croc isn't the welcoming sort and sees this intrusion as some sort of challenge.

[ukulclc]

@notmedizin sent: ❛ awww, that wasn’t so bad, was it? ❜ ↳ horror themed starters.

Clef can't but wonder if someone heard him, or if they even understood that was his voice. It's extremely rare, to hear him scream in agony. There were times when even him wasn't sure that voice coming out of his lips was actually his own - he had a moment of clarity only when he let out a weird exclamation for any human, a chord similar to a distorted ukulele sound, that confirmed it was indeed him. After that, he let out a broken laughter, all of a sudden, amazed by how different he can sound when he feels actual, deep pain, the one freezing you in place and making you struggle and kick as if trying to outrun it. Then he screamed again, as the doctor's hand explored further into his body, holding him in place, rearranging his organs out of mere curiosity.

He didn't even feel the need to tie him up or sedate him. For how anomalous his nature and being stronger than average, he had lost too much blood to even be considered an actual threat. He was basically crawling away even before the doctor could put his hands on him, talking about getting those fragments of the bullet that exploded into him out in an instant.

Clef hypothesized pretty quickly that, more than anything, he wanted to see how long he would resist before dying. Even if, perhaps, there was a bit of medical interest from his part. Maybe the sight of his situs inversus sparked something. His usual luck.

Whatever the reason, where a normal human being would have been long dead, Clef was still breathing, even if at the verge of unconsciousness. His breath came ragged and uneaven after the umpteenth, strangled scream of pain. He could still feel the hands of the doctor holding his heart and rubbing the fragments off of it, fingers brushing on it with interest, looking at its unusual shape. Toying with it, squeezing it, observing his reactions. The fingers, ever so fake in their gentleness, cleaning his mouth as he vomited the pain out.

The interest in his eyes as Clef weakly, inevitably, laughed.

« Went through... worse... herr doktor. ». The pool of his own blood under his body was so big, he could hear the smallest of his movements made a sickening wet sound. Somehow, that made him chuckle even more. Every jolt of his body made even more of them. Slash. Splash. « Had en...ough of... your... game...? »

[beinfriends]

starter for @16hitthunder!

Nowhere was weird. Let's get that straight. Claus had never thought about that until just the past couple of years, but now, he noticed its oddities all the time. Nowhere was an island made of pure magic and PSI energy, he knew that. It explained why it was so easy to live there if left alone without interference from any interlopers. It explained the strange creatures and the good weather. It explained pretty much everything up until it caused what could only be considered unexplainable.

Maybe he shouldn't blame the Dragon and Her creation on what he saw before him, but Claus couldn't help it. He had no other way to explain it. Though they looked far different from each other, Claus, unfortunately, would know himself when he, well, saw himself. And here he was, standing in the middle of the forest while Claus was on his daily walk. Those walks were to avoid bullshit, not to run headfirst into more of it.

Claus could only feel low-level confusion and annoyance, though not exactly at this other version of himself. It probably wasn't his fault that he was here, but now it would be Claus's responsibility to fix this, wouldn't it? Or, well, Lucas was more likely the one to fix it, but still. Claus initially stood frozen across the way the second he made eye contact with the other. He sighed and ran a hand over his hair, then started marching forward.

This was bizarre. Utterly bizarre. Claus almost wondered if he was dreaming. That was the other likely explanation, barring the Dragon being, in some way, responsible for this event. By the time he reached the other, Claus realized that he had no clue of what to say. He suddenly felt like a deer in the headlights, and he hesitated to speak.

"Uh... well..." He scratched his neck. "Uh... okay, look. I dunno what the fuck is happenin', and I doubt you do either, but you better tell me everythin' you know. Otherwise, ain't no chance you get outta here, got it?" His voice was a bit sharp, not that he meant for it to be, but it was sort of his default at times.

[batmanwholxughs]

PLOTTED STARTER for @svpe​​

    { ⛓ } – LUNGS expanded, a single, deep inhalation breathing the familiar, metallic fragrance of the Justice League Watchtower. Nostrils momentarily caved, and lips parted to pleasantly exhale the nostalgia that coursed within. A mesmerizing sight, of genius architecture and an insurmountable amount of money exchanged to create it. HE REMEMBERED doing just that, years passed, on an Earth devoured by predestined destruction. How long ago? It didn’t matter. The present did, and a future framed in the One Who Laughs’ DEMENTED image. But as of current conditions, a sense of provocation, and playfulness surrounded the man instead. Of playing with food, like a predator circling its prey. Only, they hadn’t arrived – NOT YET.

SECURITY barely distinguished one Batman from another. An unfortunate, yet comedically discovered loophole within an advanced system that required immediate correction, but the Justice League wouldn’t survive that long. Not when the Batman Who Laughs walked amongst them. Stationed so casually within after interrupting communications with whomever was overlooking surveillance. To imitate THE Batman as a sound individual, and not the cowled phantasm from the multiverse’s underbelly that currently stalked the halls, after switching shifts. All it took was a single call, casting the line for an old FRIEND to ignorantly grasp onto.

“ Superman. I need your help with an assignment, immediately, LIVES are at stake. ” He spoke with feigned earnest, smile painfully extended ear to ear, “ Meet me at the Watchtower. ” 

[lunaetis]

▸▸ [ @zajevre || eden starter call ]

─「エデン」─  " what do you see when you close your eyes ? " a seemingly casual question that held a much deeper meaning to it. the TRAILBLAZER was sure that the other would be able to catch what she meant by that. what she sees when she closes her eyes, eden wondered ? for someone like bronya, for someone who had been living with a SINGLE PURPOSE until the world was shattered before her eyes. the harsh truth slamming itself in front of her, the eye-opening reality to the ideal she held so steadfastly, and a future that came in a form of RESPONSIBILITY weighed upon her shoulders.

                " the past ? the present ? the future ? " or even a dream ? did she allow herself to dream, even ? she didn't know, but she wanted to, if she'd allow her to.

[strohller27]

.