#then going 'hmm i feel dizzy that's not good' and just... fainting lol.

[angerissue]

Bruce’s transformations into the Hulk seem simple on the surface, but there are many processes that facilitate the final result. This is a collection of meta that pertains to them.

🚫 Please do not reblog this post.

I. Foundations.

To commence, the changes that happen to Bruce during his transformations can be explained by the mass-energy equivalence formula. This formula explains that under certain extraordinary conditions, mass can become energy and vice versa. During the accident in 2006, Banner absorbed a tremendous amount of gamma radiation, which now resides in his amygdala as a form of condensed energy; it's not necessarily gamma radiation in the truest sense of the word anymore, but an unusual type of energy that can be controlled at will. Whenever Bruce unlocks the energy and releases it into the rest of his body, it becomes new mass that causes various amendments.

These amendments are blueprinted by the super soldier serum in Bruce’s cells, which he recreated and administered to himself during Gamma Pulse. However, because he used gamma radiation to activate the serum instead of vita radiation, he becomes the Hulk instead of undergoing subtle changes like Steve Rogers did. The usage of gamma radiation also gave Bruce the ability to revert to his original form, unlike Steve Rogers, who is completely unable to revert to his smaller and frailer self.

This means that technically, Bruce does not “turn into” the Hulk. He is the Hulk; it became his main form as soon as he absorbed the radiation.

In addition... Despite the super soldier serum's presence in his cells, the genes of his normal body are completely human and unchanged. His genetics do change a little (0.0001%) whenever he transforms, which lets him function on an enhanced level, but that's it.

II. General Process.

Transformations into the Hulk have two phases.

The first phase is considered "activation". Whenever Bruce is in his normal form, the radiation is usually locked in place and unable to leave his amygdala, because there's a kind of automatic barrier that prevents that from happening. But during the activation process, Bruce consciously removes this barrier, which is similar to removing the padlock from a door and opening it. This "unlocks" the radiation. As soon as this occurs, a small amount of the radiation will leave his brain, which he cannot stop. This causes his eyes to turn green and become bioluminescent, so they'll glow in the dark a bit. Not to the extent that a nocturnal animal's eyes will glow in the dark, because he lacks a tapetum lucidum, but certainly enough for someone to notice.

At this point, he can either lock the radiation again, or release it into the rest of his body via cellular diffusion.

If Bruce chooses to release the radiation, it will start the "initiation" phase, which is the main part of the transformations that happen when the radiation floods his body. Many changes happen in concurrence with each other. His heart becomes fortified and increases in size, which causes it to beat slower but more powerfully and efficiently. This also makes his blood pressure increase a lot. To compensate for this increase, which would otherwise make his blood vessels burst, the walls of his arteries and veins thicken and become more elastic in nature. The vessels can temporarily become distended and more pronounced beneath his skin, until further into the transformation process.

This is accompanied by a change in skin colour, which mottles across his body in a bruise-like manner that is reminiscent of blood leaking underneath his skin. The colouration is uneven at first, and usually becomes densest around his neck and torso, but it becomes more uniform as the transformation progresses. His blood and inner structures start to assume the same colouration. If samples of Bruce's blood are taken at different stages of the transformation, there will be an evident shift from red to brown, then finally to green, because the shift is not immediate. However, contrary to popular belief, Bruce's blood doesn’t turn entirely green — it retains some warmer notes. Because of this, the Hulk’s skin can seem flushed at times.

But the most prominent effect of the radiation is Bruce's growth spurt. In seven seconds or less, his weight increases from 158 pounds to 1,200 pounds, and his height increases from 5.7" to 8.6". This is caused by three different processes in his body. The first is the suppression of myostatin, which is a chemical that limits the amount of muscle in someone's body — moreover, the suppression allows the radiation to transcode itself into new muscle and change the cellular structure of preexisting muscle, both of which contributes to his increase in size. The second process is the extreme growth in his skeleton, which allows his bones to become thicker and more robust. This is because the radiation promotes the production of something called hydroxyapatite, a mineral that gives bones their strength; it also forces the osteoblasts in his skeleton, which are responsible for making new bone, to become more active and make millions of new cells. Because his bones are shifting during this process, his joints often release air bubbles, which causes a muffled cracking sound to be heard, similar to the sound when someone cracks their back or knuckles. And the final process is cellular hyperplasia / hypertrophy, which causes his cells to expand and increase in numbers across the board. This adds a large amount of new mass to his body. As his cells rearrange and increase in size, Bruce stops breathing for a few seconds, because his diaphragm, which is responsible for expanding and compressing the lungs, momentarily doesn’t work. He'll often take a breath after the transformation ends.

Because of these changes in his muscle and bone structure, Bruce’s proportions also change. He loses his slenderness in favour of a more compact and inhuman silhouette; his limbs become thicker in diameter, his shoulders broaden, and the characteristic features of his face shift, becoming more exaggerated, especially his brow, cheekbones, and jawbone. Even the ridge patterns of his fingerprints change, which makes it impossible to connect his forms via prints.

Bruce's brain releases serotonin and dopamine during his transformations, too. This is because his transformed state is considered more preferable to his mind and body than his normal form, so his brain gives positive feedback whenever he assumes it. He also theorizes there could be stressors in his normal form that he doesn’t notice on a conscious level, but they disappear when he transforms, so his brain breathes a sigh of relief.

Finally... Bruce's transformations aren't pretty. They're the opposite of that. The changes that happen are completely unnatural and shouldn't be possible for the human body, and this in itself can unnerve someone. Additionally, these changes are not completely uniform in occurrence, because certain facets of the doctor's body can change at different rates than the rest — not necessarily to the point of being comical, but still enough to be noticeable. This is similar to watching a time lapse video of something, but some of the sections are lagging or sped up a little bit. Many of his inner structures momentarily become more visible under his skin as well, including his blood vessels (as mentioned earlier), his muscles, and even his bones, especially around his knuckles. The sounds created by these process can also be uncomfortable to hear.

In consequence, it's not uncommon for people to react in a visceral manner when he transforms, or even suffer "vasovagal syncope", which causes them to become lightheaded or pass out. This happens even though Bruce himself doesn't make a fuss over the process now, and even though he's become very good at ensuring it goes as fluidly as possible.

III. Temperature.

Transformations will also cause Bruce's body temperature to increase a lot. While a normal human's body temperature is around 98.6° Fahrenheit, his temperature increases to upwards of 140° during the transformation itself, then it lowers to a toasty 109.7° once his form settles. Bruce believes the increase in temperature during his transformations is enough to cause burns, but he cannot confirm this, because the Hulk's healing abilities would heal any burns before they can become visible.

If someone were to touch Bruce as he were transforming, he would feel very hot, just on the cusp of being uncomfortably so. Afterwards, this will wear off and he’ll feel pleasantly warm.

IV. Healing.

The Hulk has impressive healing capabilities, which become even more effective and rapid when Bruce is actually in the middle of a transformation. If he's shot or otherwise injured in his normal form and he decides to transform, he can usually recover by the time the process is finished. Deeper injuries can require additional time, however.

V. Pain.

Before Bruce took the LR-05013 serum to control his condition, he would always experience severe pain whenever he transformed, unless he'd channeled enough anger, which could anesthetize the worst of it. This pain included the sensations of organ failure and joint dislocations, as well as bone, nerve, and muscle pain. It wasn't really unexpected, considering how much his temperature would increase and how much the structures in his body were tearing and reforming. Nowadays, while his transformations are the same as a whole, Bruce doesn't experience pain anymore, only a comfortable sensation of warmth — he would even consider the transformations to be pleasant, having a similar satisfaction to a deep stretch, or the feeling when someone cracks their knuckles. This is because the serum stops him from feeling pain from the radiation's presence in his amygdala, in addition to the pain from the transformations themselves. This pain was responsible for both the capriciousness of his transformations, and his inability to remain fully lucid as the Hulk.

Despite the lack of pain, Bruce can still feel the different components of his body shifting around. He can feel his joints popping out of place, and his muscle fibers pulling and condensing; as mentioned earlier, he would also see them if he looked at himself, because a lot of the effects are visible. These sensations bothered him at first, but he’s gotten used to them.

VI. Side Effects.

There are three main side effects of Bruce’s transformations.

The first one involves his proprioceptors. These are neurons that help someone’s body determine its position in space without visual aid — they allow someone to touch their nose when their eyes are closed, and know the location of their limbs even in a dark room. Because Bruce's body changes so much whenever he turns into the Hulk, his proprioceptors can sometimes have issues returning to normal when he reverts. Due to this, his movements could be inaccurate for a few hours afterwards. He might reach for an item or raise his hand to adjust his eyeglasses, but underestimate the distance needed to complete the action and miss entirely. He could also duck when he passes through doorways, because his body believes it's still "Hulk-sized".

The second side effect is bruising. When Bruce reverts, he gets subtle bruising across his clavicle and shoulder blades, which is because of the stress that his transformations put on his normal body. There would be more bruising, but the Hulk’s healing abilities persist until his reversions are almost complete, allowing the majority of it to heal and disappear. This also means the bruises are usually yellow (indicating older bruises) instead of blue and purple, and they only last a few hours.

The third side effect is hunger. Bruce doesn't eat whenever he's in a transformed state, because he cannot keep any sustenance down unless it was already in his system before he transformed. Additionally, any sustenance that was already in his system will be metabolized with excellent efficiency, meaning his digestive tract will be completely empty once he reverts. Reversions also expend a lot of calories in general because of how much stress they put on his body, so Bruce will always be extremely tired and hungry afterward, and need to eat something in order to recuperate.

VII. Partial Transformations.

Bruce has total command over his condition, so he can easily send the radiation to certain parts of his body instead of producing a complete transformation. For instance, he'll often summon small amounts of muscle for menial, unremarkable tasks, like removing a stubborn lid from a jar.

However, Bruce never humours more sizable transformations, like transforming an entire limb on its own. This can have dangerous consequences — the affected part will become heavier and far more demanding of oxygen, and his normal body cannot support this increase unless it transforms, too. He can suffer hypoxia, low blood pressure, dislocated joints, and even broken bones. Bruce has passed out from attempting these kinds of transformations, and he doesn’t want to repeat that mistake.

(To put this into perspective... A man’s arm usually accounts for approximately 3.3% of his total body weight. If Bruce’s transformed state weighs 1,200 pounds, his arm alone would weigh 396 pounds, without even accounting for proportional discrepancies between his two forms, which would raise the weight even more. It is impossible for his normal body to accommodate this. He could potentially work with 1/4 of that weight, but only if there is support beneath his arm, and if he can monitor his breathing and oxygen levels the whole time. So yeah, there won’t be any weirdness with freakishly huge body parts here.)

VIII. Unconscious Transformations.

Occasionally, Bruce can experience unconscious and automatic transformations. These most commonly occur when he's asleep and having a nightmare, at which time a green tint could ghost across his skin. This is similar to how someone can mumble or toss and turn in their sleep. If the dream is bad enough, Banner could even transform entirely, which often wakes him up. Unconscious transformations can also happen when he's awake, and he's either surprised or extremely mad; on these occasions, the radiation in his amygdala can momentarily unlock and turn his eyes green.

IX. Amnesia.

Before Bruce took the serum, he suffered amnesia whenever he transformed, as there was an "imperfect" connection between his normal and transformed states in terms of memory formation, storage, and retrieval. However, this isn't an issue now — the serum has allowed Bruce to remember everything that happens when he's the Hulk, even if he's currently in his normal form. The memories can be hazy from time to time, because the connection between his two forms still isn't 100% spotless, but he merely needs to think a bit harder, as if he's attempting to recall a vivid dream.

Nowadays, Bruce will only suffer amnesia if his alter, Hulk, decides to front in his DID system. On these occasions, his core identity will be unconscious and totally incapable of forming new memories. This has nothing to do with his transformed state; it's only because Hulk is suppressing his core identity and not allowing him to remember anything. That's all. Furthermore, if Bruce didn’t actually transform at these times and remained in his normal form, the situation would be the same and he’d still have amnesia.

X. Withdrawal.

Bruce needs to transform at least once per week. This is because ever since the accident, the "natural" and "optimal" state of his body has been his transformed state, rather than his normal one. He didn’t need to transform every week before he took the serum, because the radiation was always leaking into the rest of his cells in small amounts, which tricked his body into thinking he was transformed. But ever since he took the serum, the radiation has been completely confined to his amygdala unless he consciously decides to release it. If he doesn’t transform enough now, the radiation will leak into the surrounding cells of his brain, and in a troublesome manner.

This will cause him to become cranky, aggressive, and claustrophobic until it’s impossible for him to function indoors. He could also suffer involuntary shifts in eye and skin colour, which are very tough to predict and control. This could draw unwanted attention to him in public and have interpersonal repercussions, not to mention it unnerves him in a general sense, because he doesn’t like losing control over himself.

Disclaimer: The content in this post is unique to this adaptation of Bruce Banner. Feel free to like, but do not reblog without permission.

[forlovvers]

[ stupid confessions ]

pair: bsf!renjun x fem!reader ft. jaemin being a good friend lol

genre: fluff

warning(s): swearing, alcohol consumption

word count: 1.1k

brief summary: in which you decide to (kinda) call your best friend at three am, because you’re drunk and can’t drive yourself home.

You stumble slightly, using the walls as support. Your head spun circles, and the loud music started to sound more like a singular beat that would cause a horrible migraine instead of vocals and shit.

You don’t know where you were going, you just let your legs take you to wherever they pleased. That is, until you bumped into a familiar body. The scent of faint cologne heightened your senses. You lifted your head to see Jaemin staring back at you.

“Y/n? What are you doing?” Jaemin raised a brow, taking ahold of your shoulders so you’d look straight (kinda) at him. “I’m– I’m–“ you had forgotten. What were you doing?

“Y/n, you’re drunk.” Jaemin stated, looking at you with concern. Jaemin wrapped his hand around your forearm, dragging you outside of the house that seemed to rock back and forth, resulting in you becoming dizzy. “You need someone to take you home. Did you come with anyone?” He asked once you two were seated on the stone steps of the porch.

“Hmm,” you pondered his question, your pointer finger tapping your chin in thought. “Nope.” This you had knew, despite you being extremely drunk. This was because before coming to the party, you had asked Renjun to take you (you would drive yourself but you couldn’t, mostly because you failed your drivers test on multiple occasions). He said no because it wasn’t ‘safe’. Sure the party was located in a sketchy area and the cops usually would show up in an hour or two, but you waved it off like it was nothing too serious.

This was the start of your big fight. Usually, Renjun and you never really had big fights. Yea, there were some here and there but you both usually met in the middle and apologized to each other. But something about this fight, really had tipped both of you off edge. The argument ended with you in tears and Renjun slamming a door in your face. So, you took a bus to the party instead and drank your night away, as if that would solve your problems.

“Then who drove you here? Because we both know you cannot drive.” Jaemin chuckled to himself a little and your lips formed into an unintentional pout. “No one. I took a bus.” You shrugged, rubbing your left eye. Suddenly you felt sleepy. A sudden feeling of drowsiness soared through your entire body and your limbs began to feel like jelly.

A yawn escaped your lips, quickly followed by a hiccup. You laugh a little yourself before leaning against Jaemin’s shoulder, and closing your eyes. Normally, you aren’t the best with skinship and would prefer not to get close with others, but when you’re a intoxicated you don’t seem to mind. No matter who it is.

“Okay, okay. Let’s call someone to pick you up.” Jaemin held out his palm for your phone. Willingly, you took out your phone from your back packet and placed it in his hand.

Jaemin easily unlocked your phone with your facial recognition, and started going through your contacts. One name popped up and he pressed on it. The line rung for a bit before Jaemin heard a shuffle from the other end of the line. “Y/n, what the hell-“ Renjun’s voice was cut off.

“Renjun, can you come and pick her up?” Jaemin tapped his feet against the cobblestone steps, watching as you got up to lay on front lawn, mostly because the steps were very uncomfortable for sleep. “Please. Y/n’s currently passed out, drunk, on someone’s front lawn.” Jaemin squinted at the sight of you.

“I’ll be there in twenty.” Was what Jaemin heard last before Renjun hung up.


The moist green grass poked at your exposed skin, tickling at your head every time you shifted slightly. Your hair was sprawled across the grass, the feeling of the wind passing by simply created goosebumps along your arms and legs. Why hadn’t you brought a change of pants? Or at least a sweater. Jaemin sat on the steps and watched you from afar, just to make sure you didn’t do anything stupid, just as Renjun’s car pulled up to the house.

Renjun approached you, exhaling softly at the sight of you. He also acknowledged Jaemin, who let out a sigh if relief, thanking the gods he wouldn’t have to be your babysitter anymore.

“Y/n.” Renjun called out your name, and your head immediately shot up (despite your head pounding from that). You smiled at him, wondering if your mind was playing games on you when he didn’t smile back.

“How irresponsible can you be?” He said sternly, offering his hand to pull you up. “What do you mean?” Your words slurred together. “It was only one drink.” You lied right through your teeth, but Renjun knew better than to trust you on how much alcohol you consumed.

“I’m not going until you say I’m responsible.” You threatened, crossing your arms dramatically. Renjun rolled his eyes. “Fine, you’re responsible. Now, hurry up.” His hand was still offered out for you to grab.

You smiled successfully before placing your cold hand in his warm one, letting him pull you up. Because using your own two feet when drunk was hard, you held onto Renjun for support. You didn’t notice, but a faint pink blush painted his cheeks at your close proximity.

Renjun led you to his car and you marveled at it, as if you have never seen it before. “Bye Jaem!” You yelled to the black haired boy as Renjun practically pushed you into the passenger seat. Once you both were in the car, he started the engine up and began to drive away.

“Renjun,” you say, watching as the both of you get further and further away from the house. He responded with a simple hum, hands gripping onto the steering wheel unreasonably tight. “Do you think my parents will be mad if I come home like this?”

Crap. He had totally forgotten that you still lived with your parents. “Well... Just in case, you can stay over at my place.” He said, eyes glued to the road. It was almost like he was refusing to look at you. “So, like a sleepover?” Your eyes lit up like a happy five-year old who just received ice cream on a hot summer day.

“Yea, something like that.” And just like that, the drive was silent. Renjun felt awkward after your guys’ big fight and you were too tired to make any small talk.

Eventually, you found yourself drifting away into unconsciousness. Your eyelids drooped closed and soft snores soon escaped your lips. Renjun took a quick glance at you, biting back a smile, remembering he was still upset with you. Your hair was disheveled and some strands stuck to your forehead due to sweat. Your face was flushed and your eyelashes wavered every time your chest moved up and down.

Once he pulled up to his place, Renjun gently shook you. Your eyes fluttered opened to be met with his dark chocolate ones. “Y/n? We’re here.” He said, helping you out of the car, and you let him– mostly because it felt like you’d fall flat onto your face at any given moment.

It wasn’t until the two of you got inside the apartment building, Renjun realized that you’d have to walk up forty (he’s exaggerating) flight of stairs. The elevator was currently out of order, and that made things just so much easier.

“Okay, Y/n, get on my back.” Renjun said as he turned so his back would face you. You complied and sloppily threw yourself onto his back, doing your best to help him out, but in the end you just made more work for him. Renjun huffed, hauling you onto his back as best as he could without annoying you and hurting himself, although you were already complaining about his back not being comfortable at all.

“Gosh Y/n, the things I do for you.” He sighed, staring at the long flight of stairs ahead of him. This was his cardio for the day. And the rest of the year.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

After what seemed like an eternity, Renjun had finally made it to his apartment. To say that Renjun was dead was an understatement, or at least in his eyes. He almost dropped you out of exhaustion as he fumbled with his pockets, looking for his house keys.

Once Renjun found his keys, he placed the right one into the slot and twisted it and swung the door open. He helped you off his back– which was now aching and sore– before letting himself and you into his apartment. Renjun shut his front door and sighed harshly.

“Y/n sit here.” He instructed, pointing to the wooden bench that sat opposite of the familiar metal show rack. Half-asleep, you sat down and started to try and put your hair in a ponytail so it’d be out of your face, only to realize you didn’t have a hairband.

Renjun knelt in front of you and began untying your dirty shoelaces. Once he was done with untying your left shoe, he moved onto the other shoe. He then took off both shoes before placing them onto the rack. Renjun stood up and kicked off his own shoes, not bothering to put them away nicely like he did yours.

“Okay, this way.” He helped you to his small yet cozy living room. Despite you being drunk and the lights being off, you knew his apartment layout by heart because of how often you visited. The big windowsill was where he kept all his plants. Green leaves tattered beneath the pots, you could tell he just watered them today. The TV opposite the sofa was turned off and everything was neatly secured away on shelves or in boxes, just like always.

Renjun sat on the grey sofa, pulling you down with him. Unknowingly, you sat with your back facing him. You could feel his fingers gently entangle with your hair, tugging at your h/c colored strands. He separated your hair into three locks, then started to criss-cross them.

“Renjun,”

“Hm?”

“I’m sorry.” You breathed the words like they were glass. “What for?” You could feel his fingers tense as they worked through your hair. “Um, our fight earlier.” You drummed your fingers against your knee, awaiting his response. He paused for a moment, “It’s fine. It’s not that big of a deal. And, I’m sorry too.”

Silence.

Renjun continued to do your hair, seemingly messing up more than once. He kept undoing, and redoing your hair; when he didn’t like how the braid turned out– or when a strand was out of place. Truthfully, he just liked running his fingers through your hair.

“Renjun?”

“Hm?”

“I…” Were these words going to spill from your mouth right here, right now? At three in the morning, on a normal-ish Sunday? Apparently the alcohol had made you bold. “I like you.” Renjun laughed, “I mean I hope so, after all we are friends.”

“No, I mean like, like you.”

More silence.

“Renjun?” You turned to face him fully, his hands falling to his lap. “Are you going to say anything?” Anxiety bubbled in your chest as your eyes looked over his face for any sort of positive or negative reaction. “Did you hear me? I like you.”

The blonde haired boy leaned in close to you, to the point where you could feel his breath. “I heard you. I just wanted to hear you say it again.” He said softly, his mouth tugging into a mischievous grin.

Before you could say anything else, he leaned in close enough, your lips meeting with his.

a/n: this is unedited so don’t come at me 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️

[pascalsky]

Ooh would you mind transcribing the bonus episode for those of us who can’t listen? Like literally can’t listen, not because we won’t pay haha

Ok here’s what I transcribed for the bonus episode...I did not transcribe some of the dialogue between Zetty and Indy that I felt wasn’t that important. Also Indy’s got a little doggy crush on Pedro it seems lol So here you go...sorry if there are any typos!

Zetty: So, you’ve been on so many big movies and television shows. What’s it like being on those sets? Like do you just have beautiful assistants that feed you grapes and fan you all day at the palm fronds?

Pedro: Um I don’t insist on the grapes but the palm fronds are a must, um I think you both know what I’m talking about…how good it feels.

Indy: It’s amazing.

Zetty: Life of a celebrity is just mind boggling.

Pedro: You just wouldn’t believe it.

Zetty: What’s like the weirdest thing that anybody has ever done to you on set or in real life? Like I’m sure people like Indiana are super nervous when they are around you. Have you ever had anybody like faint or anything in front of you?

Pedro: You know weirdly people faint in front of me on a daily basis. It isn’t exclusive to a set experience; it happens in life. Maybe it’s my smell. I’m not sure.

Zetty: You do smell really good, we can totally smell you through the microphone. It’s amazing.

Indy: I’m a little dizzy just smelling you myself. So Mr. Just Pedro, you’ve played so many types of characters before. Good guys. Bad guys. Which ones do you prefer?

Pedro: Uh I like the bad guys.

Indy: Why’s that?

Pedro: It’s just so much more fun being baaaad.

Zetty: Don’t I know it.

Pedro: It’s not the same when doggies are bad. It’s different.

Zetty: Did you ever think that you were gonna play a bad guy? Like did you always go ‘Oh I am always...I’m gonna be the bad guy’? Or did you ever think about it or did you just accidently fall into playing bad – well you played good guys too but have you played more bad guys than you have good guys overall in your career?

Pedro: That is a good question. I think I would have to do the math on that, um it might be balancing out.

Indy: You’re more kind of like the middle road kind of guy.

Pedro: Yeah. I guess the bad guys neutralize the good guys and at the end of the day I am just somewhere in the middle. Indy: If you had to choose another profession other than acting what would you do and why?

Pedro: Hmm I’d like to find a way to help people and be of service, maybe in counseling or teaching. That kind of thing.

Zetty: You come from a family of Doctors, do you think you could ever be a doctor if you weren’t an actor?

Pedro: I don’t think I’m smart enough to be a doctor.

Indy/Zetty: Oh come on!

Pedro: It would take a lot of studying you know…

Indy: You’re a pretty sharp tool in the shed you know. You’re not one of the dull ones.

Pedro: Well there’s different kind of smarts I guess you know. I don’t know if I would have the stamina to go through all of that medical school.

Indy: Isn’t like being a doctor kind of what the ultimate aspects of that?

Pedro: Well you can also be a counselor or you can be a teacher. You can save dogs.

Zetty: Yeah! Have you ever had a dog and if so what kind of dog have you had?

Pedro: I have had a dog, I guess I kind of had a dog for most of my life. My first dog was a German shepherd named Rocky and then there was a Labrador named Amarillo and in my adult life I had a dog named Gretta and she was a pit bull mixed and her brown was so dark it looked purple.

Zetty: You didn’t dye her hair?

Pedro: I didn’t.

Zetty: And out of those dogs that you had, which one was your favorite?

Indy: What an awful question! How is he supposed to answer that?! Mr. Just Pedro, please don’t answer that. We know that’s a terrible question to ask.

Pedro: I have to say I loved all of them and it would be literally impossible to choose...but Gretta was my favorite.

Indy: How do you feel about you know being with a black dog, I mean half of a black dog?

Pedro: I loved my black dog and she I guess wasn’t technically black but she was very very very dark brown, almost like a dark roast coffee and she shined like a seal. She was the most beautiful thing. She stopped you know she turned heads; other dogs were jealous. Did you guys meet her? You guys never met Gretta.

Zetty: No, we weren’t around I don’t think. But did you get her at the pound? Or how did you find her?

Pedro: I did, I got her from a shelter.

Indy/Zetty: Yay! Way to go rescue!

Pedro: That’s right!

Zetty: If you could be any kind of dog what would you be?

Pedro: What kind of dog would I wanna be or what kind of dog would I be?

Zetty: Answer both of them.

Pedro: Um I don’t wanna choose what kind because the only thing that would matter is that I had a good sense of smell and I could run fast. I guess I would like to be mixed!

Zetty: So you’re like a big dog guy right? Oh but you had a little dog before?

Pedro: I did have a little dog.

Zetty: Have you ever had a cat?

Pedro: I am allergic to cats unfortunately.

Indy: That’s why you are a god! Zetty: I can smell you were a badass but now you just confirmed it! Pedro: Well I like cats but can’t live with them that’s all.

Zetty: Ok just don’t be ridiculous, you don’t have to be politically correct and say you like cats. No one in their right mind has ever liked cats.

Pedro: What is your problem with cats?

Zetty/Indy: They practice witchcraft!

Pedro: I don’t think that’s true [laughs]

Zetty: What is your favorite smell?

Pedro: My favorite smell would be dirty dogs!

Zetty: Oh really? That’s amazing. Like you mean from the streets of New York City?

Pedro: Any kind of dog smell. Smell of a dog, you know what I’m talking about! Don’t make me get specific.

Indy: Mr. Just Pedro, would you rather be a ghost or a clone?

Pedro: Be a ghost or a clone? I would like to be a ghost.

Indy: We have been in a very deep debate on whether or not the rainbow bridge exists –

Zetty: He doesn’t care.

Pedro: I do care, what do you guys think?

Zetty: Well I think it’s all bullshit…I believe personally that when the light goes out, that’s it. Darkness. Blackness. It’s over.

Indy: Pay no attention to Zetty’s bleakness. As for me, it’s too deep of a question to ask when I am sooo deep into you right now. If you wanna leave your personal phone number with me, I would be happy to call you back directly with my answer.

Pedro: Oh my gosh, I love that.

Zetty: Ok careful, this bitch is gonna call you and then she’ll just start sleeping so she’s a complete snore.

Pedro: [laughs]

Indy: If you can eat one thing right now, what would you eat?

Pedro: PIZZA!

Indy: Straight cheese or do you get toppings?

Pedro: Sometimes I’m a real basic bitch and I like pepperoni only or you can just put anything on it, anything as long as there’s cheese and tomato sauce.

Zetty: But not pineapples?

Pedro: Uh I don’t love the pineapple pizzas. I don’t love them but I respect them.

Indy: Yeah, it’s a good stance on the pineapple debate.

Pedro: Who doesn’t like pizza?

[teamsarawatshusband]

Word Of Honor - 1st watch insta thoughts - Episode 2

Here’s Episode 1

Okay, before I get started with the episode, thank you so much for your likes and kind words and explanations. Thanks @averageace​ for letting me know that ghosts aren't necessarily dead. And thanks @ pretty-much-obsessed for letting me know it's not xianxia but wuxia. K, no cultivators. Got it!

Oh, just for future reference: I love when you guys help me out in the comments with understanding stuff like this! As long as you don’t spoil the story, I'm super grateful for all the genre info and cultural insights <3

Anyway, here we go!

Episode 2:

Oooooh, it was smirky guy who stopped the whip. And everybody is watching. How embarrassing.

I kinda like purple girl. She's so feisty and sassy.

Ok, the kid wants to make friends with alcoholic tanned tragic hero lord guy. He's in town to buy pastries for his mom, that's so cute. I need a shorter name for alcoholic tanned tragic hero lord guy. Anyway, the kid gives him a bookmark like a key to where he lives. Alright.

So smirky guy really did recognize the fighting. Oh, Four Seasons Manor is a sect! Ok, ok. And that's their fighting style. Was smirky guy once a part of them? Still so mysterious.

The kids are singing about the 5 lakes. That seems to be important somehow.

K, alcoholic tanned tragic hero lord guy wants to hitch a boat ride. And the old man looks like the old guy who got the 7 nails last time, but he's probably not, i'm just bad with faces again.

Yooo, does alcoholic tanned tragic hero lord guy have so much silver? Yeah, I wouldn't trust him either, old man. Oh, smirky guy intervenes. And now the old boatman wants to do the ride.

Whoaaa, nice scenery with the water and the blossoms and the music. I wanna go there.

So, now he's at mirror lake manor. Was that the kid's place? I forgot.

Wow, that boatman is really something, shouting out his insults as alcoholic tanned tragic hero lord guy is simply standing on the dock. Can't he be a bit nicer? LOOOOOL, yeah, so now he really dashed without paying, that's what you get for being rude.

But shame on tragic hero lord guy.You should always pay your debts. Tsk, tsk, tsk.

Whoaaaaa, the blossom trees. I'm in love. Tragic hero lord guy flies over them in slo-mo.

And when it's not snowing, it's raining petals. Why is there a boat on dry land? Is that gonna be important?

Ooooh, fan fight! Must be smirky guy. Yusss! And now they're dancing.

Oh, and now smirky guy is being poetic. Dude, you sound like you’re crushing on him hard, man. Alcoholic tanned tragic hero lord guy isn't having any of it, lol.

There's two guys talking about war in the next scene. One of them is the dad and the other a son. Is that our kid from before? He seems older. I hate being bad with faces. Oh, he's not the kid. He's his older brother. And apparently there's one more brother even. I'm gonna get them all confused so much. Ugh

Tragic hero lord guy gets to stay in a woodshed. And likes it. I mean... whatever makes him happy, I guess.

Ooooh, back at the palace, I remember the helmets of the soldiers. And there's the guy who took tragic hero lord guy's job and... the other, like... boss guy. Maybe a king or an emperor. New at the job guy talks about... stuff. He's killed people. And seems proud of it. And now he's talking about a children's song. Oh wait, is that the song that alcoholic tanned tragic hero lord guy noticed earlier on? Oh, the song is connected to the glazed armor. Got it.

Ooooh, they sent a spy after tragic hero lord guy. So that's why he went into hiding.

Back in the woodshed, either the alcohol was bad, or tragic hero lord guy is having issues with the nails thing. His veins are moving and it looks disgusting tbh. And he's kinda... fuming. Literally. Looks like he's got a bad smell. And now he's... trying to meditate the smell away?

Oh, there's a fire outside.

Why?

Oh no, it's the red guys with the masks again. They're killing people.

Ooooh, tragic hero lord guy jumps into the fight, alright. OMG, I LOVE THAT TREE IN THE BACKGROUND!!! It's so pretty.

I want it.

Somebody is trying to sneak a kid out. Possibly our kid. Not sure. And the red guys are following them. Hmm.

Oh, a bird. Tragic hero lord guy calls it a sparrow and a spy from the window of heaven, which... okay, but it's definitely NOT a sparrow. Maybe it's just a not so good translation.

Aww man, and now my tree's on fire! :(((( Why can I never have nice things? :(

Now it's raining yellow paper thingies. They kinda look like those smiley potato chips thingies that you can get in the freezer section at the supermarket.

Oh, they're weapons from the red guys. And the guy who's trying to sneak the kid out... is that the boatman?

Oooh, tragic hero lord guy jumps in. If that WAS the boatman, then he's getting paid alright. Heh.

Ok, wth? Swords are not supposed to be that bendy. That does not look like a good sword. How are you gonna stab anybody with a wobbly, shaky weapon like that?

And smirky guy is sitting on the window sill watching the situation unfold like a supermodel waiting to be called onto the runway. Instead of... like... HELPING?! Wth?

And he's an alcoholic too? Hmm

K, that was a short stay, they're back on the boat

Eww, the red guys cut of somebody's arm. Wait, is that the dad from before? And the others are... the kid's brothers? Maybe? Oh, whoever they are, they're supposed to have the glazed armor, and the red masked guys want it. And they're gonna kill them all? That's brutal, man.

But if they ARE the kid’s brothers and they’re about to die, then at least I won’t get them confused, so there’s a plus side.

Anway, alcoholic tanned tragic hero lord guy, the boatman and the kid are in some dusty place. And the boatman is savage as fuck. He wants his money, lol. I like him.

Oh no, so much information. I'm so bad at this. So the kid is supposed to hide at 5 lakes, but doesn't want to. And somebody saved somebody, I have no idea. I wanna know if alcoholic tanned tragic hero lord guy is gonna go meditate again, because it looks like he wants to.

And now the potato smileys are flying in again. Great. I'm never gonna unsee the potato thing now.

Anyway, alcoholic tanned tragic hero lord guy who seriously NEEDS A NAME(!!!) is getting smelly again. And the kid wants to defend them all and instantly drops the sword. That does not look good.

So many red masked guys.

LOL, alcoholic tanned tragic hero lord guy needs 15 minutes. To smell better, maybe.

Wow, the old boatman is a good fighter, but he stands no chance. Are he and the kid really the ones supposed to fight, while tragic hero guy is being smelly and smirky guy is still chilling who knows where?

See the stinky fumes?

Whoa the kid is willing to sacrifice himself for alcoholic tanned tragic hero lord guy. Who is just as surprised as me. And if it weren't for somebody intervening, they'd both be dead. Who is it?

Yooooooooo, purple girl coming in to the rescue. Of course. Need a job well done, leave it to the woman.

Wow, she's so badass. And the kid and the boatman are helping too. Alcoholic tanned tragic hero lord guy went back to meditating.

:O There were two nuts!!! I saw them!!! Is nuts guy one of the red masked guys?

Oh, NOW alcoholic tanned tragic hero lord guy is starting to fight. Probably smelled the nuts and got into it.

LOL, wth? Now that he's done fighting, he faints? And THAT's when smirky guy shows up? To catch him? And alcoholic tanned tragic hero lord guy wakes up again instantly to fight.

Lololol, wth? Smirky guy is like "Heh, you cute, let me wrap your sword around us." ;)

Maybe the wobbly bendy sword is a flirting technique and actually does serve a purpose.

He has really long fingers too.

Just saying.

Aww, would have been a cute moment if the boatman weren't deadly hit. And now he's smelly too. Wait, do smelly fumes mean doomed to die?

Ohh, he's gonna make him adopt the kid, isn't he?

Alcoholic tanned tragic hero lord guy drops a name, and says he's Zhou Xu. Is that his real name? Feels like smirky guy would probably recognize him if he gave his real name. But also maybe not. I know nothing. And smirky guy is mysterious as fuck. But I’ll take the name,because it’s shorter than the one I gave him.

Boatman is still a bit rude, threatening to curse Zhou Xu’s ancestors if he doesn't take care of the kid. Aren't they cursed already? Anyway, boatman can't know that.

Ok, old boatman has died and the kid is adopted. Cool, cool.

Oh, some fighter guys in nicely pleated skirts... who are they? Are they the guards of the manor? Are they there to help the kid? Whoever they are, they came too late and they set off fireworks.

Ok, smirky guy introduces himself. Wen Ke Xing. Oh boy, I hope I can remember that name.

Why is the kid dizzy? Did he get hurt?

Now they're discussing about the bread and nobody's willing to eat first while the kid is empty handed and very clearly hungry as hell. I feel so bad for him.

Why does smirky guy come across so snobby? I wanna like him.

Wow, they finally give the kid some food and now HE's refusing to eat it as well.

Purple girl is the only person actually getting fed tonight.

I mean, she deserves it. She fought the hardest.

Oooooh, smirky Wen Ke Xing guy is onto Zhou Xu lord guy. First stares him up and down while he's resting (lusting much?) and then flat out asks if he's in disguise.

Oh and the kid IS hurt. And smirky Ke Xing is the only one to realize too. He's redeeming himself. A little.

Zhou Xu lord guy doesn't want him to touch the kid though. Why?

Oooh, they're dancing again.

LOL, purple girl gets it. I saw that smile. I bet she's a shipper. What is the ship name? KeXu? ZhouXing? I literally had to scroll up and reread the names. We should just call them smirklord.

Okay, end of episode.

What did I learn? Names were dropped.  Zhou Xu lord guy has adopted the kid. Smirky guy is called Wen Ke Xing. He comes across a bit shady and pretentious and also flirty. Very flirty. But Purple girl is cool, and she trusts him so he must be kinda cool too. Still don't know who they really are and what they want. Like any of them. So far, I like the kid and purple girl best. I hope they all travel together to bring the kid to... wherever he's supposed to go.

Goals for future episodes: Find out who nut guy is. Learn the freaking names reliably. Find out people's connections to each other.

[bigskydreaming]

Okay, I knew Alistair the Dream-Keeper wasn’t the first time I’d written the idea of magically weaponized dreams, so I went hunting through old email accounts and found a whole fucking manuscript I wrote like, twelve years ago and totally forgot about. WHOOPS. (This happens with me more often than you’d think actually possible). I’m only a third of the way through my re-read of it, but it holds up surprisingly well IMO, I’m pretty pleased. I can actually do something with this, I think. 

Course, it was apparently written back during my whole “every thing must be hetero otherwise there will be no publishing” period, before the beginning of my personal Age of LOL Nah, Fuck That, Everything Must Be Gay. So, first things first, Jez definitely needs a girlfriend, and also a different name. I can’t believe I named her Jez, like, wow, I was really trying to get YA Bingo, wasn’t I? In my defense, this was when I was twenty-three. Also, this first chapter here has a character named Scott and this was before Teen Wolf even premiered, so apparently I just like the name Scott? Huh. Did not know.

BURNING DAYLIGHT

Jez O’Neill knows she has three years, two months, and sixteen days to live.

She’s had visions for as long as she can remember. She knows they’re never wrong. And when the boy her visions say will someday kill her comes into her life, she knows to stay far away.

But somehow he gets close anyways. Because Nathan is perfect. He’s handsome, he’s charming, he’s utterly, unbearably sweet. And when he learns of Jez’s visions, he promises to cheat Death for her. An interest in New Age turns into an obsession with the occult, and that leads to tiny cracks in the walls of the world, where strange and untrustworthy spirits wait to barter with anyone desperate enough to try.

Magic, however, always comes with a price. The higher the reward you seek, the more you can expect to pay, and the spell Nathan thinks will change their destiny instead puts them on a collision course with Fate. It changes him, twists him in mind and soul, transforming the boy Jez loves into the madman who will someday take her life.

With only three years left until the day she now knows she can’t avoid, Jez discovers she and Nathan share the same zipcode again as he sows death and destruction in the streets of LA. But rather than flee for another city, Jez pits herself against the monster she once loved, the monster she helped create, determined to make sure no one else gets caught in the crossfire of their attempt to cheat their fates.

Call it redemption if you want. Jez calls it Tuesday.

Chapter 1

Dreams are doorways if you have the right key.

That’s why I’ve wasted a perfectly good Sunday night perched on the edge of Scott Kinley’s desk. It’s awkward, uncomfortable, and I’m sure I look like a gargoyle in the pitch dark of the two o’clock hour, but every chair in his bedroom is covered in dirty teenage boy laundry. I’ll stick with my perch, thanks.

I kick my legs out and arch my spine, stretching my arms over my head with fingers laced together. Cramped and aching muscles voice their protest. Something cracks in my neck when I roll my head back. Meanwhile, Scott Kinley snores contentedly in his sleep in the bed across the room. I shoot him a glare that’s best described as withering.

Spears of pale moonlight slip through the slatted blinds covering the window above his bed. They stab the length of his body, highlighting a strong jawline and tousled blond hair, not to mention a chest and set of abs that frankly, I just find obnoxious on a fellow teenager. It’s L.A. in early September – code for unbearably hot – and he’s sleeping with the bare minimum of sheets, a loose span of cotton that’s only covering him up to his waist. I’d enjoy the cheap thrill more if it didn’t make me feel like such a perv.

After all, I’m a total stranger who broke into his house and has spent the last four hours going through his things and watching him sleep. It’s kinda hard to feel good about that. In my defense, I’m only here to save his life from a creepy magical serial killer. Course, I have strong doubts that would hold up in a court of law should he wake up and have me arrested for breaking and entering. But I still feel it’s worth mentioning.

A yawn and a glance at his alarm clock confirm that it’s 2:07 am and I have no life. I lean back on the desk and rifle through his homework some more as I go back to invading his privacy. My only defense here is I’m really bored.

His handwriting’s slightly more legible than your average garden-variety chicken scratch, but I’m still not one hundred percent his name’s Scott Kinley. The Scott part is clear, but the ‘I’ in what I think is Kinley could be a really jacked up ‘o’ I guess. Whatever. It’s a pre-calculus assignment, and the last yearbook on his bookshelf is from his sophomore year, so I’m guessing he’s a junior like me. Or like I would be, if I still bothered going to school. Hmm. Eleventh grade and already in precalc? Someone’s a smarty-pants. Interesting.

A row of trophies and a couple of team photos declare him a water polo jock, and not too shabby of one according to this MVP title. Explains the abs. I roll my eyes around the rest of the room. Small TV so old it has a VCR player built into it. An even older Sega Genesis console is hooked up to it, so either Scott’s big on nostalgia or his family’s not big on luxuries. There’s a couple of movie posters tacked to the wall, but the puddle of light leaking across the floor doesn’t reach far enough for me to make out any details. Then a freestanding bookcase, a good five shelves high, filled with actual books. Above it is a college pennant with a bear on it – I think that’s Cal Berkeley, right? Possible destination, I’m guessing….

God. And he was in bed by ten. Smart, good-looking, athletic and ambitious. Did his parents just win the baby lottery, or if I go down the hall will I find the altar they used to bargain with the Devil?

Not that it matters. I stretch my legs out again and dip my toes into the pool of moonbeams, watching them spill across my feet when I wiggle. It’s only been six months since my last boyfriend went all dark side on me and turned into a spell-wielding slaughterhouse. I’m kind of not dating right now.

So it’s only natural my visions would lead me to the most eligible teen bachelor in Los Angeles – I cast another quick look around the desk for the requisite ‘me and my girlfriend’ photo – nope, most eligible teen bachelor in Los Angeles. Ugh. It’s like announcing your diet and inheriting a pastry shop the next day. I feel a sudden urge to grab one of his dirty shirts off the floor just to make sure his one human flaw is real and not an illusion.

Wow. I can’t believe I just thought that. Apparently sleep deprivation makes me weird. Besides, there’s no way that smell could be imaginary.

I throw another withering glare in Scott’s direction. It’s his fault I’m a weird, sleep-deprived pervert in his stinky bedroom. My baleful stare bakes the air above his bed. It bends and twists like a summer heat wave on asphalt. Wait. That’s not right.

I shake my head, peering through the fog that shrouds my tired mind. Somewhere in my snooping I failed to notice Scott’s happy snores had turned into frantic whimpers. He’s writhing on his bed; sweat beads all over his restless body, glistening like fragile pearls in the faint light. The room is abruptly a sauna. Heat climbs the walls and steam mists the glass of the picture frames.

“Shit,” I whisper, and I’m in motion, leaping off the desk into a crouch. I dip my hand into my hoodie and whip out my knife, steel slicing moonbeams to ribbons as the blade springs free. A low keening shreds the silence, hoarse spectral shouts as faces flicker through the knife, reflected in the steel. I cross the room in three steps. Scott cries out. His fingers scratch at the air like crooked claws.

Somewhere a door opens, and something steps through. Between the space of one second and the next, a heavy silhouette takes shape on this side of the dream.

I slam into the figure with all my weight, blade aimed for the midsection where I’m hoping vital organs will be. The knife sinks in too easily. The sandman-born beastie is still in that transitive state where its dream wrought form has yet to shift all the way down the spectrum to vulnerable flesh. Then my knife catches and scrapes against bone. The nightmare screams as it sinks its roots into our reality and feels pain for the first time.

It’s tougher to pull the blade free, but I’m stronger than any normal seventeen year old girl has a right to be. More specifically, as long as I’m wielding that knife I’m as strong as all the monsters it’s killed combined. And I’ve racked up a decent body count. Blood and bile sprays in slow motion, a cresting wave of black tar. A few drops land on my arm. There’s a hissing sound and I feel like I’m on fire. I grit my teeth and swing again. It dodges and I miss. We both regroup, and I get my first good look at it.

Damn. Mr. Perfect Teen USA has one hell of a fucked up subconscious. I’m just saying.

The nightmare swallows what dim light comes near it, refusing to be illuminated. It’s thick, ridged with protrusions of bone and slick scales that shimmer with their own dark radiance. A trunk-like torso gives way to stocky legs. At certain angles they seem to merge into a single column similar to a snake. It has four arms, except for when it has six – and then two and then twelve and then they’re not arms at all, but tentacles. The head is a gaping chasm of teeth and forked tongue surrounded by a lion’s mane of mottled skin. It’s dizzying and hard to look at. Confusing and chaotic. The only constant is its ugliness.

I charge at it, because I’m just that dumb. Hey, only the good die young.

It dips to the side, cobra-quick, and its tail snaps out like the crack of a whip. I take the hit square in my ribs and I’m lifted off my feet, flying back across the room. My breath flees from my lungs, my head slams back into a wall. I bite my tongue and taste copper.

“Rude,” I gasp.

Scrambling up to snatch my knife from where I dropped it mid-flight, I steal strength from its macabre magic. Even still, regaining my feet takes effort and time I don’t have to spare. The nightmare’s turned its attention back to Scott. He’s finally awake and sitting up his bed. Pale, frightened, and totally out of his league. Considering we were dealing with his worst nightmare in every literal sense of the word, I cut him some slack. I’m a good person.

I roll forward and rake my cursed blade along the creature’s side on my way. It rears and screams again. Dimly I hear footsteps and distant shouting.

“What the hell is that thing?” Scott asks, eyes locked on the beastie like a man entranced. Oh good, he can talk. I was starting to wonder. I duck around the nightmare and stick myself in between it and him.

“Don’t ask me. It’s your childhood trauma,” I say, hefting my knife and gauging distance. “Now shut up, don’t die, and for god’s sake put on some pants.”

I lunge and bury my knife in the thing’s throat. I’m liking my odds less and less when it still finds the strength to knock my grip loose and drop me on my ass. More blood drips down on me, igniting nerve endings everywhere it touches my skin. Let’s recap. I have spunk, pizzazz, seven spells and a cursed knife on my side. It has burning blood, a build like a freight train, and claws and fangs that seem to multiply every time I look at it. It leans forward and roars its hostility right in my face.

Also, it has halitosis.

A swipe of its many tentacle-arms knocks me back and to the side again. I land on the floor, staring up at the bookshelf. It’s tricky reading the titles from my upside-down vantage point, but I hazily make out the collected works of one H.P. Lovecraft. That explains a lot.

“You know, there are worse things in the world than being a cliché,” I complain, glowering over my shoulder at Scott. He has the decency to look ashamed, over where he’s huddled on the other side of the desk. Course, I’m sure he has no idea what he’s ashamed of, but my tone conveys the point rather well, I think. “Seriously. The dumb jock thing. Just give it a try.”

Mano a mano isn’t working out too well for me so I switch tactics. I toss a quick ‘Hail Mary’ skyward, kick off my shoes and chant the most powerful – and dangerous – of my seven spells. It’s a nasty little sucker I bartered for in the second sphere, the Circle of Fire. I rattle off short, harsh syllables that climb reluctantly from the base of my throat, guttural utterances that were never meant to be made by a human voice. I dip my fingers in moonlight and etch glowing hieroglyphics in the air – they hang there for a moment, sharply luminescent in the seconds before they fade to black.

Staccato snaps and pops ring out. The alarm clock short circuits. Streetlights flicker and die. Every electronic in a fifty meter radius develops a sudden terminal illness and the air feels flooded. Thick and heavy with static as thousands of wayward electrical impulses conduct themselves through the atmosphere to me. I dig my toes into the heavy carpet and feel the hair on my head stand on end. Then I’m running, my nervous system supercharged with too much speed and power to contain long. I duck past the nightmare’s swinging arms – it might as well be lumbering at tortoise speed – and plant a single palm flat on its back.

My touch hits it like a thunderbolt, lightning barreling down the synapses in my arm and ripping into it with hurricane fury. It squeals and goes airborne, crashing into the desk and reducing it to kindling. Scott falls back, mouth open, and smoke wisps up from the creature’s motionless body.

For a second, I dare to hope it’s dead. It would be really awesome for me if it were. That was my most powerful offensive spell and using it comes with a one in ten chance of killing the spellcaster. So, you know. I’d really like to not have to use it again, please.

The nightmare heaves itself to its feet-tail, sending spears of desk turned firewood flying about the room. Some of the shrapnel heads my way and I cover my eyes. Splinters gouge at my palms. I peek past my fingers, and in a blur of motion the creature crosses the room and throws itself through the window. It rips through the blinds and shards of glass fountain into the hot summer night. The darkness outside swallows it whole.

“I hate you,” I casually inform the universe.

I pick past debris and make for the window. Or what’s left of it anyways. The house is on a hill, high enough elevation that glass from the window is still showering to the ground below. Chiming, delicate drops of crystal rain. City lights gleam from one horizon to the next. A pitch-black shadow makes its way across distant rooftops, dark even against the darkness, like a spreading oil stain spilling towards the downtown metropolis. Lovely.

“What the hell is going on?” Scott finally finds his voice again, but I have no time to soothe his shattered nerves or offer an introductory course on Things That Go Bump in the Night 101. I run my hands through my frizzy, static-damaged hair.

“That was disgusting, you need therapy, and the pants thing was not a suggestion,” I inform him, bending to retrieve my knife. Scott flushes and grabs the sheet off the bed. He doesn’t even try and peek at my ass. A piece of the Scott Kinley puzzle clicks into place, and I feel a tiny bit better.

“Hey, quick question. Are you gay?”

His jaw drops, but he recovers fairly quickly. “What – how did you – I mean, why?”

I shrug. “No reason. Just won a bet with myself is all.”

Hey, it’s the little things in life. I turn back to the window and track the nightmare’s course. Picking a rooftop a few buildings ahead of it, I prick my thumb and whisper a spell from the seventh sphere, the Celestial Circle. I sketch bloody sigils in the moonbeams cascading through the open window. They turn pale and faint and I grab their remnants like door handles. The silver light parts, a gauzy curtain opening on a window to a distant rooftop far below.

I cast a sigh at the bewildered boy behind me and step through. It’s probably for the best. Like I said, I’m kinda not dating right now anyways.

The curtain falls shut behind me and I resume my hunt.

[aiimaginesbts]

Don’t Spill (M)

A fic for Jin’s birthday!

Seokjin x Reader

Genre: Smut

Warning: Rough sex, spanking

Word count: 4,180 words

A/N: Another fic of Jin playing a wicked game with the reader. Maybe I should make a series out of these lol.

Disclaimer/Copyright

"Really now?"

"Really," you insist, slowly backing away as he advances forwards. "How am I supposed to know that Hoseok was coming with you?"

"Mmm," he hums softly, acknowledging your point. "Still, you didn't have to answer the door looking like that, did you?"

You look down at yourself. The normal oversized shirt you wear around the house is not out of the norm, but this particular one is white and translucent. It's no wonder that Hoseok's eyes almost bulged out of their sockets when you opened the door earlier. With the afternoon sunlight shining through the door and basking you in it, you wonder what they saw. Simply the silhouette of your figure? Or did they see the outline of your breasts through your shirt? Or even your nipples, straining against the material at the thought of your boyfriend coming home? Did they see your panties, slowly getting damp from your arousal without even being touched? Endless possibilities race through your mind as you think of an answer to Jin's question.

Of course there is only course of action with Jin; the truth. You and Jin know no other way than to always be honest with each other. Always. This time is no exception. "I've been waiting for you to come home," your confession comes out soft and sheepish.

"Like this?" He repeats. "For everyone to see?" A gasp escapes your lips when you feel a sharp, horizontal edge poking against your back and your hands fly back to grip it reflexively. Without you realising it, he has backed you to the end of your dining table and he is still closing in on you. "Hoseok has no business seeing you like this," his voice is a low rumble as his mouth travels the length of your neck to your ear. After a long pause, Hoseok left in a hurry, stuttering a mumbled excuse that none of you can make sense of, at which point Jin turned towards you, eyes burning with passion and a little displeasure at his friend seeing you this way. Jin has absolute faith in you, but that doesn't mean that he isn't possessive. And when he gets the opportunity assert his dominance over you, he uses it well. "No one else should see you like this," he confirms, pressing into you, forcing your body to bend backwards from the force. He is relishing the soft pillows of your breasts pressing against his chest, but isn't enough. Nowhere near enough. Not for him. Not for you.

"You are mine," he growls into the shell of your ear as his hand drags from your hips up to the sides of your rib cage, sliding your thin shirt up along with it. "Mine and mine only. Am I right?"

Jin is so mean. He knows that he is right, but it is a sport for him to make you say it. It seems that he is determined to bring you out of your reserved shell whenever he can, in every way possible. As if it is not enough that he reduces you into a begging, trembling puddle of need every time he has his way with you. "Yes," you murmur softly against his dark hair.

"Yes, what?" He demands.

"I'm yours," you groan as a large hand cups your breast, thumb flicking against a sensitive nipple. "Only yours."

"So when Hoseok saw you like this..." his reprimand ends with a disapproving tsk-tsk, but it is difficult for you to feel scolded when he is teasing your tip into a rigid peak. Until he pulls his torso back, relieving you of part of his weight, and his other hand flies to grip your chin, forcing you to look into his darkened eyes. "Or do you want him to see you like this?"

"No!" The distance he has put between you allows your brain to function well enough to insist adamantly. Not being the sort to wear revealing clothes or show too much skin, the idea of anyone but your boyfriend seeing you like Hoseok did earlier embarrasses you to no end. Already you are dreading the next time you see him, wondering how you will manage to meet his eyes when he has seen you in something that leaves so little to the imagination.

"Hmm," Jin's hum sounds thoughtful, but he drops the issue of one of his close friends seeing you like this for now, to your relief. Both of you know that he loves and trusts you too much to keep you in the doghouse for too long when he is well aware it wasn't intentional. "So why have you been waiting for me to come home like this? You look good enough to eat."

He knows perfectly well why you are wearing something simple yet capable of seducing him. It is your own wicked way to subtly tell him what you want without actually saying it. You should have known that he will not let you get away without uttering the words. "Because I miss you. I haven't seen you in like two weeks," your soft answer is almost inaudible, but Jin's sharp ears do not miss a word.

For a moment, he sobers up from your confession. "I'm sorry love. It's work." Words meant to placate you, but you do not need them in the first place. You completely understand that both of you have lives outside of each other, and you are not so dependent that your world revolves around him. You only want him to know that even though you may not need him, you want him around. That his presence was missed.

"I don't mind." The corners of your mouth curl upwards into a smile, letting him know that you are not upset with him in the least. "I just miss you, is all."

Worries laid to rest, Jin switches back to his teasing persona. "Do you miss me, or do you miss this?" Without warning, he bucks his hips against yours, eliciting a gasp of surprise from you when the stiffness on the front of his jeans slides against your thinly clothed core.

"Both," you breathe truthfully.

"Hmm, I don't know," his tone is laced with mocking doubt.

Narrowed eyes meet his smouldering ones, knowing full well what he is up to. Jin is in a challenging mood. You are destined to lose, but not without putting up a fight. Although unsure which part of him that he doubts that you miss, you address the former, applying force through your palms on the surface of the table to push yourself up and against him. Fists bunch into the material of his shirt and you look up at him through your lashes, putting on a winning smile as you say, "I miss you all the time, Jin." Standing on your tiptoes, you press your lips against his in a sweet but non-invasive kiss, conveying to him that you do miss your boyfriend in his entirety, not just for his cock.

“Good, ‘cause I missed you too,” his words whispered against your lips are as tender as his hands on your waist, holding you as if you are a precious, fragile china doll. Until you catch his plump lower lip between your teeth as he breaks the kiss and remind him of his hard-wired instinct to put you in your place in these situations. “That is not going to prove anything,” he snarls.

So he wants you to prove that you miss him, does he? Flashing a smirk full of confidence at your boyfriend, you grab the hem of his shirt and pull it over his head without much resistance from him. Keeping your eyes on his darkening ones, you let your hands do the exploring on their own, guided by the planes of his upper body muscles, admiring his hard chest before you finally look away to revere him with your mouth. Kisses and light nips are showered from the crook of his neck, tracing his prominent collarbones down to his nipple. A sharp intake of breath that he does not manage to conceal when your wet tongue makes contact gives you an exhilarating surge of power, and you take full advantage of it. It does not take long for the tiny bud to harden underneath your hot muscle, but you keep laving it with your tongue for a while before giving the other one the same treatment, enjoying the way his body grows taut as he pretends to be unaffected.

Swiftly so he does not get a chance to stop you, you undo the button and zipper of his jeans. After tugging them down to his ankles, he is only left with his boxers. His erection that is barely contained by the flimsy piece of clothing feels unbelievably good against your soaking core, so you grasp his firm buttocks, pressing him against you tightly, your desire and drive to rise to his challenge making you utterly shameless. Head buzzing from the pleasure of dry humping him, you lose track of your primary objective, unaware of how much time has passed until Jin’s deep groan snaps you back to your senses.

Inwardly berating yourself for letting your arousal take over your senses, you sink down to your knees, taking care not to bump your back against the table. You cannot help the saliva pooling in your mouth at the sight right in front of your eyes. Even covered with his underwear, Jin’s cock is so hard it almost looks painful. Lifting your head up ever so slightly, you look at him through your eyelashes, intending to ask for his permission but all you can see is his closed eyelids as he takes deep breaths to calm himself, so you decide to go ahead and proceed. With a satisfied smirk and one determined tug, his last piece of clothing joins his jeans. The faint scent of him that has been wafting through the material is now all the more potent without it, making you dizzy with growing need.

Although your actual goal is to arouse him, you find your own breath growing heavy as you inch closer and closer to him. The kittenish licks you lace over the tip of his cock can be misconstrued as teasing, which is a plus in this situation, but you are really just trying not to let your insatiable hunger for him show too obviously. You still have a little pride left in you after all. However, your ego can only carry you so far, for all too soon you cannot help but give in to your desire, your mouth enveloping the head before slowly swallowing the rest of him. Bit by bit you move in, taking more and more of him, moving closer and closer until you hit the base. The needy groan sounding from above you, unsuccessfully smothered is well worth having to fight the urge to gag. You remain there until it becomes too much, until you regretfully are forced to pull back.

Only to seize a few gulps of well-needed oxygen, and then you are going in again. And again. His skin under your tongue is hot with lust, the precum dripping from its end a slightly salty treat for your throat and you enjoy every bit of it. Your hands grip his thighs to keep balance as your mouth does all the work, every dip into him growing more intense. From simply taking him into the warm recesses of your mouth, then adding your tongue to swirl all over him, next sucking in your cheeks, to swallowing around him. Over and over, more and more, until you are forcibly pulled off of him and hauled to your feet.

A squeal that is short and a little painful on your overworked throat escapes you when he swiftly turns you around and presses your upper body into the table. His voice growling into your ear is raspy, “I think there is a better place you’d prefer me to finish in.” Having the non-existent breath knocked out of you when your chest hit the surface of the table, you can only let out a breathy gasp when he pulls your shirt up to the middle of your back before pulling your panties down with one decisive yank.

“Already soaking wet and I haven’t even touched you yet,” he states with proud satisfaction. You know that he is looking at your dripping pussy even if you cannot see him behind you, and the thought makes you squirm, from embarrassment or arousal, you have no idea. Perhaps both. But instead of sinking his cock into you like you want him to, he slams two long fingers inside your heat. Even so, it is enough to make you moan in pleasure. The squelching sounds that your sopping pussy is making every time he pushes his fingers into you is almost as embarrassing as the sight you know you are offering him, especially when his free hand gropes your ass cheek, spreading you further apart so he can watch his fingers pleasuring you. Jin knows just how to push your buttons, driving you up the wall with every calculated movement. His fingers curl to scrape against the sensitive spot inside you every time he moves, and your breathing grows even shallower although there is no longer anything blocking your airway. It does not help when he leans down to press his chest against your back, and his sinful mouth against your ear, whispering dirty words and challenging questions that you cannot refute, because his words are true and you want him to follow through with each threat that falls into your ear and hits you all the way to your throbbing core.

“Just how much do you miss me, hmm? Look at you, already panting like a good little puppy, just wanting to come. Maybe I should tie you up and play with you until you can’t move anymore,” he continues to pour oil into the already smouldering embers of your desire, just waiting for you to combust into a raging bonfire of ecstasy. Closing your eyes, you whimper as you approach his goal, your legs starting to shake as your walls tremble from your impending orgasm. But just before you can reach it, Jin cruelly pulls out of you completely.

Your cries increase in volume with frustration at being left high and dry. His amused, hearty chuckle blowing the strands of your hair is not making you feel any better, only serving to incense you even further. Unfortunately his oppressing yet reassuring weight is still keeping you down, preventing you from turning around and exacting your revenge on him. “You want my dick so much, but can you take it?” The question comes out in several raspy breaths, telling you that he is not as unaffected as he wants you to believe.

“I can,” you pant back, desperate to have him inside you, filling you, making you whole again after so long.

“Hmm.” That thoughtful hum vibrates a little too deliciously against your hungry body, but it soon disappears when he lifts himself up, pushing away from you. Before you can utter a word of protest, he warns, “Wait here, my little pet.” Being partially obedient, you reason to yourself, you turn your head to follow his leisurely stroll while keeping yourself plastered onto the table, but it is useless as he enters the confines of the kitchen and out of your sight. Resting your head on the wooden surface, you close your eyes to try and focus on the sounds that he is making, actively trying to ignore the pitiful throbbing of your abandoned center. Of course the latter wins out in the end, and you are left clenching your walls around nothing, not noticing Jin until he returns to his previous position behind you.

Two transparent glasses filled to the brim with water set close to each of your hands are met with confusion. “Let’s play a game.” The short time away from you has allowed him to regain a little of his composure, lending him the playful tone you know he employs when he is about to engage you in one of his one-sided games that always turns you into a puddle of wanton mess. Still, you only wait curiously as he slides the glasses closer and coaxes your hands to wrap around them. “I’ll give my pet what she wants, since she said she can take my cock, but she can’t spill one drop.”

“That’s—“ before you can finish filing your complaint, he nudges your legs even further away from each other so he can settle between them more comfortably and pushes himself into you. Just the pressure exerted by the head of his cock pushing insistently against you is enough to cut short any protests you may have, and the subsequent stretch of your walls by the rest of him leaves you moaning helplessly, even though he is entering you at a glacial pace. Only when he is buried to the hilt inside you do you remember the glasses, but he has gone in so slowly that nothing has spilled.

A sigh of relief released from you is correctly interpreted. “Looks like you’re doing well so far, love,” he praises, running the very tips of his fingers along your back, sending shivers down your spine at the contact. “Let’s see how long you can last.” With that, he withdraws, only to ram back into you so forcefully you would have fallen down if you are not bent over the table. As it is, you slide forward, helplessly watching the liquid slosh all over your hands with wide eyes as you grunt from the impact.

“That’s unfair,” you cry out, but Jin’s games has never been fair. On the other hand, the punishments he doles out always tamper down your complaints, because he knows as well as you do that you love them more than you will ever admit. This time is no exception. A loud crack followed by a surprised squeal echoes throughout the room, and you can feel your ass tingling from his slap.

“Don’t spill,” he repeats, but his next thrust into you is just as powerful as the last, if not more, and you cannot stop the water from spilling any more than you can prevent the moan escaping past your lips. Each thrust is followed by a sound smack on your plump flesh, but they only serve to make you wetter, only cause your moans to grow louder, only lead you closer to your peak. In a desperate attempt to win at the game, you lift the glasses in the air, resting your upper body weight on your elbows, but it is of no use. Jin’s thrusts are too hard to be withstood. The grip of his other hand squeezes your waist, bruising your skin as he feels you tighten every time he pushes into you, every time a blow lands on your buttocks. “Are you actually enjoying your punishment, you naughty pet? Do you like it when I fuck you hard? Or do you love being hit like a bad girl?”

“Both,” you sob as his rigid hardness forces your walls apart again, the friction between the two of you heightened by the sharp slap that follows. “I love both!”

“What a nasty pet I have here,” his venomous accusation is tainted by his intense lust for you. “But at least you are honest.” Completely losing against the battle of wills with himself, he uses the excuse to stop your punishment so he can hold onto you with both hands, keeping you in place as he finally gives into his own needs. In a way, this is even more difficult for you to bear. Without needing to stop to dole out your punishment, he can ram into you unimpeded, building in momentum and force, pushing you towards the edge much faster than before. It is just as well, since you have spilled so much water that less than a quarter of the glasses remain filled. Already your legs are quivering once more, the knot in your belly tightening into a swelling impossible to undo, only able to explode. And you give in to it, bursting in a mess of desperate cries and moans as your whole body shakes with the quake of your orgasm. Every ounce of energy directed towards your core, your limbs grow weak, and before you can grasp at reality one of your hands has already loosened its hold on the glass in it. A loud thunk jolts you back from the clouds Jin has rocketed you to, but you can only watch it roll off the table and shatter onto the floor.

In your panic, you senselessly slam the other glass onto the hard wooden surface of the table as your eyes follow the first one’s suicidal journey to the floor. A chilling, tight sound emanates from your palm as it cracks under the impact, but manages to remain whole. “Let go of it,” Jin’s instruction is soft and deep, and when you remain too dazed to comply, he takes it from your hand and places it away from you himself, the gesture gentle compared to the way he continues to pound into you.

“Jin, I can’t,” you sob. His hard cock scraping against your walls so rapidly just after you came is too much.

“Then, do you want me to stop?”

His tone is teasing because he knows what your answer will be. He knows full well that you would never ask him to stop. Your pitiful whimper as the overstimulation loses to another building fire inside you says it all. “I thought not,” he exhales triumphantly, tightening his hold on you so he can pound into you harder. Chasing after his own release, his thrusts become more savage, faster, pistoning so violently that edges of pain threatens to encroach upon your passion, but it only feeds your insatiable lust for him.

“Jin, Jin,” you gasp, feeling another high approaching, but instead of obliging, he stops, leaning in to bury himself deeper inside you.

“Why should I let you come again?” A query that is almost menacing, staving off your complaints. “You spilled all that water, and you even broke the glasses. Why should you be rewarded?”

“Please, Jin, let me come,” you beg shamelessly. The only thing in your mind is experiencing euphoria at his hands again, no matter the cost. “I’ll do anything!”

“Anything, huh?” Without warning, without words, he starts plowing into you again, his thrusts growing as erratic as his breathing. A hand brought down so his fingers can toy with your clit brings the fierce pleasure back with a vengeance, causing you to call out his name as he sends you hurtling down the cliff again. Your pussy clamping down on him for the second time is too much for him to take and after a few last strokes, he joins you in your hedonistic release.

If not for Jin pressing you against the table, your quaking legs would have caused you to crumple to the floor. Thankfully he knows you well enough to sense that your limbs are too weak to support you, so it is with care that he pulls away, retaining his hold on you, now firm instead of bruising to prevent you from falling and hurting yourself. Settling himself cross-legged on the floor, he fits you across his lap, raining gentle loving kisses on your face and making sure you are fine, paying more attention to the hand that was holding the cracked glass. Unable to muster the strength to tell him that you are okay, you nod reassuringly, then allow him to check for himself anyway.

Once he is convinced that all you need is a good rest, he slides an arm under your knees while the other supports your back and lifts you up with him. Wrapping your own arms around his neck, you snuggle close to him, basking in his warmth and the aftermath of your fierce lovemaking. You can hear his heartbeat when you press your ear against his chest, and even though it is still beating a tad too fast from his earlier exertion, it is still comforting. Releasing him so he can lower you into the bathtub is almost a shame, but he reassures that he will join you soon as he twists on the taps, making sure the water filling the tub is not too scalding or too cold.

“I’ll come back after I clean up the mess,” he promises, referring to the water you have spilled earlier as well as the broken glasses. Satisfied that you are taken care of for the time being, he pecks a quick kiss on your lips before looking into your bleary eyes to offer you a reminder before he makes his temporary departure. “I’ll also buy you new glasses, but don’t forget that you promised me anything I want.”

[velvetchen]

Anonymous | pt. i

[ back to masterlist ]

Scenario: Tumblr AU Pairing: Chanyeol/Reader Word Count: 1671 Rating: T 

Summary: You just shot to tumblr fame when the latest chapter of your webtoon went viral. Messages start flooding in – hundreds of people saying things good and bad alike. One anon catches your eye, and you find you just have to reply to them… 

next part >>

You found out when your friends all started calling you. That morning, you woke to your phone bursting with notifications – your twitter, tumblr, texts, everything. You picked up your friend Jia’s next call, your groggy hello met with the sound of her excited screaming. “Y/N! You’re famous! You’re all over the internet today?”

Groaning, you rolled over and checked the time. 8:37, too early for anything. “What?”

“I said, you’re internet famous,” she said. “Strawberry Shortcake just hit it big.”

That shot you awake. You jolted upright and pulled your laptop towards you, logging in and opening your tumblr. “What? Oh my god.”

“I know!” Jia squealed. “Oh my god! You totally deserve it, Y/N, you’ve worked so hard on it. Congratulations!”

Your activity page had numbers you’d never seen before. Reblogs with comments. Your inbox, full. You felt dizzy. “I’ll call you back, Jia,” you said. You didn’t wait before you hung up.

What had just happened?

Opening a new tab, you typed ‘strawberry shortcake tumblr’ into the search bar – and nearly fainted at the results. The first link was your tumblr. The second was an article about it. About you. About your webtoon.

You didn’t know what to feel. The webtoon you’d been working on for more than six months, so far resigned to a few reblogs and barely more than five hundred followers, was suddenly famous.

We Can’t Get Over This Super Cute Romance Webtoon, And Chances Are You Won’t Either

Strawberry Shortcake, a super sweet love story written and illustrated by the owner of the strawberryshortcakecomic tumblr – known only as S – is something we just can’t get enough of. The cute story, light humor and to-die-for cold-hearted, bad-boy-with-a-heart-of-gold love interests will have you rushing through the chapters and smiling like a fool. The webtoon is available in English on Tumblr and translated to Korean on LINE Webtoon.

You scrolled down to the comments.

iluvBTSxox: aha wow so cute ~ ^o^ prettyboy88: ㅋㅋㅋ so nice blossom3bunny: i love it so much, thanks mika-chan for recommending it~~~

So that was how it had gone viral. Mika-chan, another webtoon artist, ultra-famous for her anime-style webcomics on LINE and tumblr. You felt flattered beyond belief. Immediately, you pulled up her tumblr – and there it was – her reblog of your latest episode along with the caption “one of my favorite webtoons ;o;”.

strawberryshortcakecomic asked: mika-chan!!! Thank you so much for liking my webtoon ;;;;;; I’m so happy you liked it <3 I hope you enjoy my work in the future too!

You’re welcome ㅋㅋㅋ it’s very cute

You couldn’t believe she had replied to you. Much less reblogged your work. It felt surreal. Opening your tumblr inbox, you got to work answering, still on the high of your newfound fame.

Anonymous asked: author-nim~~~~ the last chapter is so nice, please update, when does jinho take yoon ah on the date

I will be updating soon! thank you for liking it

Anonymous asked: that lake scene is so sweet omg

Haha I know right! Thanks :)

Anonymous asked: I CAN’T WAIT ANY LONGER OH GOD THE FEELS!!!

You won’t have to wait much longer, the next chapter will be up soon !!

 You moved to the kitchen with your laptop, setting it down on the counter and opening the fridge to get some yogurt and fruit for breakfast. You sat back down immediately, intent on answering as many new messages as you could.

snsd-superfan asked: i love jinho he’s so hot ugh

;)

Anonymous asked: mika-chan brought me here and can I just say I’m in love with you and your work

Thanks! Love you too anon

The next message stood out, because while so far you had only seen one-liner compliments and messages about your work, this one was much longer. You read on, intrigued:

Anonymous asked: Dear S, I’ve been following you almost since the beginning of Strawberry Shortcake and I wanted to congratulate you on your newfound and very well-deserved fame! I know how hard you’ve worked and how much effort you put into making the chapters for us, your readers. I’m so happy to see you get the fame you were destined for! Now, about the last chapter, hmm. I feel like something is going on with Seong-jin...is he plotting something behind Yoon-ah’s back? Sincerely, C

You thought a minute before you wrote out your reply, pausing in between words to make sure it was perfect. This ‘C’ person had obviously put a lot of thought into their message. At least that’s what it looked like.

Dear C, Thank you very much for your long and thoughtful message! Honestly, I feel extremely surprised. I don’t know what to do with all this fame, haha. I’m so flattered you think I deserve it, and that you’re a long time fan. How long have you been here?

As for the plot...you’ll just have to wait and see. I have a lot of things in store for Seong-jin!

Love, S

You continued scrolling through your inbox, but that was the only message of its kind - which only made you more intrigued. When a reply popped up, you felt yourself swell with a strange excitement.

Anonymous asked: Dear S, you’re very welcome for the praise ^^ I’m sure things will only get better from here. I meant it when I said you deserved all the fame. I’ve been following your blog since the third or fourth episode I think. That was a long time ago! You’ve come so far since then. Your art has improved a lot too. I can’t wait to see what you have planned for Seong-jin. He’s my favorite character (yes, I don’t like Jin-ho! I think he is too perfect...something’s wrong...haha) Sincerely, C

Was it too soon for you to reply? Shrugging, you started typing anyway.

Dear C,

Aw thank you, you’re making me blush lol. Thanks so much for your support! And wow, since the third episode? I don’t even remember that far back, you’re right when you say we’ve come a long way. Thanks for the comment on my art, do you really think so?

I should be offended you don’t like Jin-ho, but maybe you’re on to something ;) kidding, kidding, I don’t want to give away any spoilers. Seong-jin is my favorite character too, he’s very close to me. He was the first character I came up with for SS. At first he was going to be my main character but I made Yoon-ah the main character at the last minute.

Love, S

Anonymous asked: Dear S, I clearly remember the day I found your comic. It was actually reblogged by one of my real-life friends. I was crazy about webtoons so I was super excited to find a new one to read. You didn’t disappoint :) Am I really on the right track about Jin-ho? I mean, he is a vampire, but he still doesn’t have any flaws. I’m guessing that’s intentional. Maybe he’s hiding some dark secret lololol. I hope Yoon-ah ends up with neither of them though, they’re not that nice to her :( Sincerely, C

Dear C,

Oh, please thank your friend then! They must have known me from my other blog ^^

You’re right, it is intentional, but there aren’t any dark secrets coming up...yet. Haha. Jin-ho is that very cliche k-drama character isn’t he! Hot and cold and handsome as hell. I have a lot of fun drawing him. ;) And yeah, neither of them treat Yoon-ah right, but that’s plot progression for you. I’ve already confirmed on this blog that she will end up with one of the two. The ending is still a long ways away but I hope it’s satisfactory!

Love, S

Anonymous asked: Dear S, yes, I’ve been following your other blog too since then! You’re very private haha. But you’re very nice and friendly too ^^ Jin-ho is total eye-candy! My friend has lots of screenshots of all the shower scenes lol. She sends them to me. He is definitely a cliche character, but those can be very fun to read and write too. Even if there aren’t any dark secrets I’m sure he’s still hiding something. Oh well, I hope Yoon-ah ends up with the right one then. I like her a lot and hope she gets a good relationship. I don’t doubt in your ability at all to come up with an amazing ending :) Sincerely, C

Dear C,

Am I private? I guess I must be, since I don’t even have a proper pen name! Aww, you think I’m nice and friendly, thanks, you’re not too bad yourself :)

Your friend has good taste lol. I’ll draw more shower scenes just for her ;) You’re right about cliche characters not having to be one-dimensional. I put a lot of thought into Jin-ho when I was creating him and he’s actually very similar to me. Stubborn, secretly caring, introverted (unfortunately not I’m not as hot lmao). You seem to know a bit about this writing thing, do you write?

Yoon-ah will get the happy ending she deserves! She’s my precious little flower baby.

Love, S

 Anonymous said: Dear S, it’s okay, you can be as private as you want,. I’m just warning you that fans can get a little crazy about finding out who you are...so be careful. No, I don’t write, unless you count writing music, which is a lot different from making webtoons I imagine :) Are you really similar? I guess I’ll have to start paying more attention to Jin-ho from now on. Sincerely, C 

Dear C,

Thanks a lot for the warning! (wow, do you have experience with this fame thing?) I know, just a couple of hours since the explosion and I’m already getting hate. Writing music could be like making a webtoon, hmm...you’re making a story without words. Or with only dialogue. Huh, I guess not really.

Oh no, have I revealed too much? ;)

Why don’t you come off anon? I’d love to talk to you some more.

Love, S

a/n so a little background - like all the scenarios i’ll write this is set in an ambiguous location with no set culture/mix of cultures, so you can take it to be anywhere (i intended korea). webtoons esp. romancey webtoons however are pretty popular in korea so a bunch of the comments and etc will be like on a korean website. after this part the story will mostly be told through a collection of messages, articles, posts & dialogue. also i know asks don’t let u write that much but bear with me ok

[surveysonfleek]

373.

5000 Question Survey Pt. 8

701. What is your favorite mixed drink? mojito or espresso martini. 702. When answering these questions are you often pulled in different directions, as if committing to one answer eliminates the possibility for all others? errrr i don’t really think that hard. i just type whatever comes to my head first. 703. Chicken Mesala, Pasta Primavera, Veal Cutlet Parmesan or Linguini with Clam Sauce? veal cutlet parmesan. 704. If you were alone in your friend's house/room/apartment would you look in their drawers and notebooks? no. i’d be annoyed if a friend did that in my place

705. What would you really like to do but you don't because you are afraid of getting caught? hmm nothing.

706. Of the following, which word best describes you: responsible: this. spontaneous: tactful: uninhbited: 707. Which band would you most likely check out? The Smiths (indi-pop 80's-90's) The Lords of Acid (acid/house/dance 90's) <--- this Front 242 (80's-90's industrial/dance) 708. How can one put an end to procrastination, as a bad habit? make a list everyday and committing to finishing those tasks everyday. 709. What feature would you want on your car that is not currently offered? inbuilt gps. or subwoofers. 710. What kind of poetry speaks to you? song. 711. What is your favorite store that is open 24 hours? there is nothing open here 24/7 but mcdonalds and gas stations. 712. Do you find that sleep is just so much sleepier when you are supposed to be doing something else? sure. 713. Do you also find that the books you chose are so much more luscious when you have a stack of actual assignments that you Should be reading? of course. 714. If you have had the chance to compare the original 5000 Question Survey to this edited version, what is your opinion? i don’t know the original version. 715. What's the most creative answer you can think of for 'what is black and white and red all over'? a newspaper. 716. Why do people slow down on the highway when they pass a cop car pulling someone else over? either to watch or make sure to follow the speed limit in case the cop goes after them instead? 717. Are they afraid that the cop will STOP pulling over whoever he is pulling over and pull them over instead? yeah, just said that lol. 718. It's daddy's birthday. What do you get him? i’ll ask him what he wants a week beforehand. 719. What's your 5,000 question survey nickname? Look at the word next to the 2nd letter of your first name A anything but B bubalicious C captivating D deadly E erotic F funky G greasy H heaps of I indie J jelly K kinetic L lasher M Mr. (or Mrs.) N neglected O ogre-like P parading Q quacking R Rico S stinky T the one and only U uber V Velcro W wishing for X x-tra Y yearning for Z zoobalee Now take the first letter of your last name. A aardvarks B baboo C creme pie D drag queen E eggbert F flex G god H hell I Isabelle J juice K kisses L lightning M mannish boys N nice O octopi P porcupines Q q-bert R rainbows S suave T tushy U underwear V valor W weenie X xtc Y yohimbe Z zipper Put the two words together for your nickname. erotic drag queen. 720. You know that shaky feeling that you get when it's all coming to a climax, and everyone involved is breaking into the good kind of cold sweat, working as individuals and at the same time as a single force of energy, and it all meshes together, and for a brief moment, you're holding your breath and tingling all over, and after it's done you're on an explosive and dizzying high for the rest of the night? What does that feeling come from? drugs or adrenaline surely. 721. How many of your teachers can you imagine drinking or doing drugs on the weekends? i don’t go to school anymore. 722. Do you like Alice in Wonderland or Through the Looking Glass? i haven’t seen it. 723. Write a question and answer it here. no. 724. Who is your favorite playwright? none. 725. What movie has come out recently that you couldn’t have less interest in? the emoji movie lmao. 726. What would the worst movie ever be about? emojis. 727. Do you like truffles? Do you like Turkish delight? i like both. 728. Can you tell the difference between a transvestite and a real woman? i mean would it matter if i could/couldn’t? 729. What's funnier, plants or fire extinguishers? neither. 730. For question 720 did you write down sex? You pervert, I was thinking of musical theater. nope. 731. Which is better, leopard print or plaid? haha plaid if i had to. 732. What would you consider ordinary? ugg boots lmao. 733. What is out of the ordinary? idk. 734. Do you ever watch COPS? bahaha yeah when it was on tv at like 2 in the morning. 735. Is there always room for j - e - l - l - o? no. 736. If you had your own TV show, what kind of show would you make it? reality probably. 737. Do you know how heavy things like airplanes stay in the air? i have a faint idea. 738. When do you act the most dramatic? most of the time. 739. Are you one of those people who have, "see photo id,” written on the back of their credit cards? nope. 740. It's mom’s birthday. What do you get her? i’ll ask her what she wants a week beforehand. 741. What celebrity has pretty much disappeared leaving you wondering 'where are they now'? that video vixen, angel lola luv. 742. Would you get angry if you and your girl/boyfriend saw the preview for a movie and talked about seeing it together and then they saw it with one of their friends while you were busy? hahahahaha this has happened before. i was sorta annoyed but got over it quickly. 743. How many people do you think will finish this whooooooole survey? i’m sure there’s people that have. i’ll try my best. 744. Have you ever written a message, sealed it in a bottle and thrown it into a river/lake ocean? nope. 745. If you haven't would you want to? too much effort. 746. If you ever did what would you write? - 747. What do you wish you could always be protected from? danger. 748. What small thing annoys you so much it should be a crime? arrogance. 749. Would you rather watch a video of fish in a tank, or the Yule log on TV? fish in a tank. 750. Is it better to be loved or feared? loved. 751. What causes you to panic? things not going to plan. 752. Do you believe that you have a strong personality? kinda. but lately i’ve gotten a bit more laidback. 753. When Jesus saves souls...does he trade them in for valuable prizes? i don’t think so. 754. What resolutions would you make if it were new years? lose weight, save money. 755. Why wait? i’m not waiting right now. 756. Do you feel like time is on your side or working against you? working against me. 757. What do you do for yourself when you are down to put a little joy back into your life? distract myself with netflix. 758. How much Tolkien have you read? none. 759. These are the songs on the radio. Which are you most likely to listen to: Time Bomb by Rancid Dead Man's party by Oingo Boingo The Sun Always Shines on TV by A-ha 50 Ways to leave Your Lover by Paul Simon Run by collective Soul none 760. Do you believe that Jesus existed as a real person? well yeah, hasn’t it been proven he was real? 761. Do you believe he was the son of god? haha idk. 762. How do you feel about organized religion? it is what it is. i’m all for different religions, i’m just against brainwashing cults. 763. What sentence have you heard lately, that would sound pretty odd out of context? idk. 763. If you had to choose one image to be a symbol of our times, what would you pick? a damn smartphone. 764. Name a group of people: millennials. 765. How many of them does it take to screw in a light bulb? google it. 766. Do you like the movie The Labyrinth with David Bowie and some muppets? i haven’t seen it. 767. Do you like the movie The Dark Crystal? never seen it. 768. Metallica or Guns N' Roses? neither. 769. Do you follow the Chinese zodiac? no, but i know i’m born in the year of the horse. 770. Do you like reggae music? i don’t hate it. 771. What makes your life worth it every day? just all the opportunities i’ve been given. 772. Do you seize each day and sink your teeth into it? unfortunately not. 773. I’ve heard people say that Jim Morrison never yawned because he was just so full of life. How often do you yawn? everyday probably. 774. Who decides what behavior is 'crazy' or 'sane'? idk... 775. Who are the most inspiring artists, musicians, poets, and writers? honestly anyone who’s striving to be successful in those crafts. 776. Did anything historically significant happen in the year you were born? all i know is that pretty woman was released lol. 777. Besides blowing out birthday candles when do you make wishes? 11:11 sometimes. haven’t caught that time in forever. 778. Are you self-sufficient? yes. 779. Is it better to be wanted or needed? wanted. being needed can be pretty hard. 780. What do you feel is an appropriate age to lose one’s virginity at? whenever the person is ready. 781. Do you feel that the appropriate age for girls and for boys is different? probably.  782. Are you a hard person to get to know? not really. if i get along with someone and conversation flows well then it’s fine. 783. What is the craziest thing you have ever done out of anger? thrown my phone into the other side of the room. 784. What's the MOST annoying sound you can think of? nails on a chalkboard. 785. What's the silliest vegetable you can think of? bittermelon. 786. Do you believe in love at first sight? no. 787. Name one thing you have referred to in the past as “better than sex”: i haven’t. 788. What do you see when you turn out the light? nothing. 789. Do you like jazz, blues and/or swing music? i don’t typically listen to it but it’s nice. 790. Do you prefer gold or silver jewelry? white gold. 791. In what ways do you want your children to be like you? everything except my laziness. 792. In what ways would you want your children to be different from you? my laziness lol. 793. What was the scariest movie you've ever seen? idk. the conjuring. 794. What was the funniest movie you've ever seen? 40yo virgin. 795. What was the worst movie you've ever seen? umm idk, like mean girls 2 haha. 796. Are you a good massage-giver? i think so. 797. What is one question that no one can ever truthfully answer 'yes' to? idk. 798. Is there more to this world than human beings can perceive? i’m sure there is. 799. If matter is neither created nor destroyed then is it possible that you are made up of molecules that once made up Ghandi or Jesus or Einstein? well possibly but i doubt it. 800. Are you often sarcastic? pretty often.