#turns chay into one to save his life

[the-cookie-of-doom]

Chay’s blood is rich and honey-sweet in Kim’s mouth, like nothing he’s ever tasted before. The taste makes his own blood surge, pulsing with want—he's drunk on it, taking deep, greedy pulls. Chay sighs beneath him, a weak moan, no doubt the pain equal to his pleasure. Kim has to force himself to stop. Thin red rivulets drip down Chay’s neck—Kim chases them with his tongue, not wanting to waste a drop, and only succeeds in smearing the stains across Chay’s skin. 

“Kim…” Chay is fading fast. His eyes drift to the side, unseeing, and his hands are cold as what little blood left in his veins is diverted to his core. 

“It’s alright, Chay, I’m here.” Kim lays Chay down, holding the boy across his lap. He bites his own wrist, thumbs Chay’s chin with his other hand, and spills his blood into Chay’s waiting mouth. Chay tries to turn away from it, but Kim won’t let him, his gentle touch the softest steel. “It’s alright,” he says again, a soothing croon that Chay can barely hear. 

When his only other option is to drown, Chay finally swallows, shuddering at the slick warmth that fills his throat. Soon it will burn, as Kim’s venom consumes him, changes him, a cellular alteration. 

***

“You can’t keep going like this,” Kim says. Chay, curled around his knees and digging bloody grooves into his arms, refuses to acknowledge him. “I know you’re scared. You don’t want to hurt anyone. But you will. A starving vampire will never be safe with anyone.” 

“Then I’ll stay here.” A quiet rasp around fangs Chay hasn’t yet learned to hide. 

“Chay—”

“Why do you care? You did this to me! You made me this—this—”

Kim set his jaw. Gritted, “I saved your life.” 

“You made me a monster.” 

Silence. The accusation hurt more than it should. “Is that what you think I am?”

Chay tightened his arms around himself. He could feel Kim’s hurt through their bond like a physical thing, and he didn’t know why, didn’t know how to escape it. 

“I don’t want to kill anyone,” he whispered. 

“You don’t have to. The blood is donated.” 

“Then it should go to someone who needs it to live.” 

“Chay…”

“Will I die?” 

“... No. I don’t think you will. Not for a long time.” 

“Then I don’t need it. And I don’t want it.” 

A heavy sigh. Kim knows he won’t be able to convince Chay, He also knows he can’t bear to stand by and watch him wither. Kim nearly lost him once already—he can’t let it happen again. Not when he has the power to prevent it. 

That’s exactly what led them to their current predicament. It’s exactly the justification Kim uses to make things so much worse. 

Hating himself for it, Kim pulls on the sire bond between them, commands Chay, “Come here.” 

Chay tries to fight it. Kim can see the struggle, the way he tears at himself, his eyes wide and wild. “No, no, no—” But the bond is a deep, primal kind of power that Chay can’t hope to resist. It’s woven into the fabric of his being; he’s helpless to do anything but obey. He crawls across the floor to kneel at Kim’s feet. 

“Please,” Chay cries, powerless at Kim’s mercy. “Don’t do this.” 

There are limits to the power their bond holds over him. If Kim forces this, forces Chay to contort himself around the command, it might shatter entirely. He doesn’t know what would happen to a bitten fledgling without a sire. He doesn’t intend to find out. 

Kim sinks his teeth into his own wrist. Drinks the first blossom of blood in his mouth, the pressure ensuring a steady flow. Then he lowers his arm, the blood that drips down his hand an offering. Chay’s lips part around a ragged exhale, his fangs glinting in the low light. 

Kim won’t force him to drink. He leaves the final choice to Chay. It isn’t much of a choice at all—a newly turned, starving vampire, presented with fresh blood, stands little chance at refusing. But it’s still a choice, and Kim won’t take any more of Chay’s control than he needs to. 

“It’s alright,” Kim prompts when Chay still hesitates. The blood on his skin is getting sticky-dry, his wounds beginning to heal over. “You can’t hurt me.” 

It’s the permission Chay needed. He sways into Kim, takes hold of his arm with bloody, clawed hands, and fastens his mouth over the bleeding wound. Kim hisses when Chay’s fangs sink into him—two heartbeats later the pulsing heat of Chay’s venom floods his body, and Kim never knew it could feel like this. Chay moans in turn, both at the taste of warm, rich blood that finally slakes his desperate thirst, and the pleasure he can feel through their bond, compounding his own. An overwhelming feedback loop that builds and builds and builds, until Kim tears himself away just before the crescendo. 

They’re both breathing hard, their eyes matching pools of black. 

“Kim…” Chay is dazed, listing where he kneels, blood-stained and beautiful. Kim watches Chay touch his glistening lips, his tongue following the blood. Kim wants to taste his own blood on Chay’s tongue. 

Kim takes a step back. He stumbles, light-headed, his blood thrumming in his veins. He needs to leave. Takes the crystal decanter off the table as he passes because if Chay won’t drink it then he will.

Chay’s quiet, wondrous, “Thank you, P’Kim,” follows him out the door.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Mission Control 15

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

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

Character: Captain Hydra

Summary: a man marches into your life on a mission

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

You curl up on the couch and watch the fire. It isn’t the isolation or his silence that will drive you over the edge, it’s the idleness. There’s nothing for you to do. Not to distract yourself or to get yourself free. All you know of him and whatever he is now assures that there is no escape. You won’t even let yourself dream of the possibility or it will crush you. 

He doesn’t emerge before you fall asleep. The blackness sweeps over you as you hug yourself into the couch. A dreamless slumber has your head throbbing and when you wake, you hear the clacking of logs. A crackle of the kindling and his shadow flickers over you. His footsteps leave you again. 

Is he mad? You don’t care. You’re mad. It’s all you can feel. If you let the terror break through, you won’t be okay. No, you’ll be angry. He did this to you. He’s taken away your life. 

You can’t sleep. If you do, your head might split. You sit up when you’re certain he won’t return. You go to the kitchen and put water on to boil. 

You find the tea shop bag on the counter. You shake as you look at it. You take out the pot and the cups. You wash them in the sink and dry them carefully. Then you take out the canisters of loose leaf. You read the flavours labeled on the side. It all feels so out of place in the desolate cabin. 

You brew the apple chai and sit at the table. The scent wafts into your nose but it cannot comfort you. Nothing can. You are lost. There's no one to save you. You are certain of that. The world’s greatest hero, or used to be, is gone. He’s a shell. He’s a villain. 

You shift on the chair and let your hand wander to your thighs. The bruises remain tender. You feel rotten that you almost forgot how cruel he’d been. He can be gentle but it cannot undo what’s been done. 

You finish the tea and wash the cup. You put it away. You pace around the kitchen and the front room. Your weight makes the floor groan. You know he can hear you. You don’t care. You will never be ready for the next time... so you won’t try. 

When you venture to bathroom, you notice the bedroom door is slightly open. A weak invitation you won’t take. You lock yourself in to attend to your human needs. That’s what is so chilling. He doesn’t seem to recognise those. Not in your or himself. He’s almost confused by the most basic facets of existence. 

The more you think, the worse you feel. Not only for your own helplessness, but for him. You shouldn’t feel bad. No, he’s a monster. Yet you can’t help but suspect there’s something wrong. No, not something wrong. Something’s missing in him. 

As the morning rises outside the windows, you watch the trees. The leaves shed as the pine stands thick and dark against the paling horizon. The grass is flat and yellow around the dusting of dirt and twigs. The moon is still visible even as the sun climbs. 

You shiver and turn away. You change into the clean clothes and put the dingy ones aside to wash later. You take out the broom and sweep. You tie back the tattered curtains even as the glass lets the chill creep in. 

You feed the fire and stir around the embers. You hold onto the long poker and examine the point. You tap it on the brick of the fireplace to knock off the ash. It’s sharp and heavy. Iron. 

You hear him approach. You drop your arm and turn to face him. He has something in his hand. He looks at it, then you. He stops on the other side of the couch and his eyes flick down to the poker. You glance at your hand then relinquish the poker to the stand. 

You cross your arms and step away from the fireplace. You glare at him. He squeezes the notebook in his hands, the pages curled at the edges. A pen is tucked into the bent spiral. 

He turns it and offers it over the couch. Reluctantly, you near and lean in to read the page. There’s ink scratched in the same tortured writing as the food packets. 

‘I keep you safe.’ 

You blink at the page then take a breath. You look him in the face. He rescinds his reach. 

“Safe from what? The only person who’s hurt me is you.” 

His eyes round and he looks down at the book. He searches the page. His thumb runs up the spiral and he slides out the pen. He puts the tip to the paper but doesn’t write. He pauses and thinks. 

When he does, he shows you the page again. Another word. ‘Need’. 

Your chest squeezes and your stomach churns, “you need what? To hurt me? To feel better?” 

His cheeks pinch and his eyes crinkles as his mouth draws in a line. He angles the pen around the notebook and taps the word ‘safe’. 

“No, I’m not safe,” you argue. "Not with you."

He drops his arms in frustration. His jaw squares and he puffs out deeply. He shakes his head then brings the notebook up again. He writes. The next words he shows; ‘Alone. Both’. 

You bite down on bile. He just doesn’t get it. 

“Yes, I was alone. I didn’t care. I was... me.” You insist. 

His forehead lines and the scar down his cheek tautens. He nods. 

“I would rather be alone. Do you understand that? Can you? Do you understand anything? Huh?” 

He stares at you and his throat bobs. He pushes his chin up. He closes the notebook. He flings it one way, then the pen in the other. 

You brace yourself as he twists on his heel and his shoulders square. He stomps across the room as he raises a fist and hits the wall. The planks crack and splinter as he growls. He doesn’t look back as he retreats to the bedroom and slams the door. The whole house shakes with his anger. You do too. 

You shouldn’t have said any of it, but maybe you don’t care. You’d rather he just hurt you already. Waiting is much more painful. 

[indigowatercress]

A silly little rant about TGWDLM

No one in TGWDLM gets what they want.

Charlotte wanted to make things work with Sam. (He killed her)

Bill wanted to mend his relationship with his daughter (She killed him)

Ted is quite selfish and I believe that he wanted to survive, which he didn't. He also wanted a chai iced tea, which he didn't get

Sam wanted to die in Charlotte's arms, which he didnt. he died tied up.

Alice wanted to live with Bill, although this could be a lie told to turn Bill to his last resort.

Mr. Davidon's want is iconic, to be choked by his wife. But instead he lives as a mindless alien slave.

Professor Hidgens wanted to reunite with his college friends, and also likely wanted to publish Workin boys. Neither dream comes true.

PEIP's goal was to save the world. but they failed.

Emma wanted to start a new life, but above all else, didn't want to die in Hachetfield. This dream never came true.

Lastly, Paul. Paul's wants are never directly stated, but are generally among these three

What everyone wants. Money, a partner, and kids someday

He wanted to avoid musicals at all costs. But now he's forced to live in a musical. He describes this as his "own personal hell"

Emma's well being, safety, and love. In the end, he has to watch as he himself turns Emma into something else...

[i-will-cry-you-a-river]

Part 1

No matter what Er-ge might think, it really was an honest-to-god mistake. He really did not intend to land himself back in the hospital! He was trying to keep himself out of it, in fact! It wasn't his fault that when he ate while hate-reading his most despised web novel, he accidentally sent it in the wrong pipe. It was just an accident!

Then again, maybe if he hadn't tried to stuff his mouth at the same time he had been furiously ranting about the latest Proud Immortal Demon Way update, he probably would have still been in the comfort of his home. No matter - his er-ge would never let him forget if he would admit that he was at fault. So, no; it was an unavoidable accident!

He didn’t remember much, only his meimei’s desperate attempts to do the something-something maneuver to save his life, the loudness of the sirens, and suffocation. Sure, it was painful, but the scariest part was the knowledge that he was going to die. That he would never hug his family ever again, that he would never drink a chai latte ever again, and that he’d never have the opportunity to create something, instead of destroying it. He’d lost consciousness with the heavy feeling of wasted opportunities.

But he got a second chance. If it weren’t for his meimei, he wouldn’t have made it - but there he was, recovering in the quiet hospital room, having one more chance to be the person he always wanted to be. Kind. Helpful. Somebody who creates. Somebody, who is not a shut-in coward, afraid of opening up to people and to new experiences. A better version of himself.

However, he was stuck in hospital for a while - until his er-ge, Shen Jiu, told him he was finally free to go. So, with more free time than responsibilities, he turned to that one piece of media he’d ever regretted allowing to stay how it was: Proud Immortal Demon Way.

He just couldn’t stay away from that dumpsterfire. He was too deep into it.

He should have hated it! He should have stayed away from it, if nothing else, to avoid almost dying again because of that piece of trash. Yet, he couldn’t do it. He just loved it so much. Well, not it; he loved what it could have been, if the author, Airplane Shooting Towards Sky wouldn’t have been determined to drive him absolutely insane with his priorities. So much papapa, and for what?! What about the world-building? What about character depth and development?! It was so promising at first! Airplane’s cultivation world was unique, the flora and fauna - except for the overwhelming number of sex pollen - were absolutely breathtaking to read about! The characters were interesting; all of them had some mystery in their backgrounds. And the protagonist? At first, he was the best protagonist Shen Yuan ever read about! He continued to be, even after the trauma, the blackening, the hundreds of wives, but… Shen Yuan had to admit: his favorite protagonist, instead of going through a character development, went through the reverse. And it was too painful for Shen Yuan to allow it.

So, he decided to do something about it. Opening up his alternative fanfic account - he didn’t want anybody to know what he, as Peerless Cucumber, was reading when he wasn’t criticizing PIDW -, he allowed himself to enjoy the freedom. With his fanfiction account, he never interacted with the fandom outside of the occasional comments on other people’s works, so the quasi-anonymity gave him the push he needed: he finally started to write Saving the Scum Villain, fixing all the glaring flaws, inconsistencies, and outright discrepancies.

He thought about all the wasted potential in PIDW (the world-building that got overshadowed by endless explicit scenes, the underdeveloped characters who could have had so much more depth, the storylines that were abandoned in favor of cheap, overused tropes), and found the way how to correct them: save the Scum Villain, save the White Lotus, save the story! He could write the version he wished the author would have written.

However, it was easier to be said than to be done. Sitting on his bed in his hospital room, Shen Yuan felt the cursor was taunting him as it was blinking on the blank screen. He could feel the familiar restlessness of the anxiety settles in his stomach. He could almost hear the echoes of his er-ge’s disgusted voice in his head: “Fanfiction? You are writing fanfiction?”

Running his hand through his hair, he huffed, “You are just as much of a coward as you’ve always been.” It was a vicious cycle; the longer he hesitated, the heavier he felt, and the less equipped he felt to really write his dream PIDW.

But then he remembered the feeling of wasted potential, how it had haunted him after almost dying. How much he wanted to improve both his own life, and the world of Proud Immortal Demon Way. He started to ask something else from himself: “But what if I could make it better?” He took a deep breath and wrote his first few words.

<The vibrant market stalls were brimming with colorful fruits and fragrant spices, the laughter of children playing nearby mingled with the distant sound of a guqin, weaving a melody that echoed the simple joys of life. Yet, for a little boy, this lively scene felt like a world apart, a painful reminder of everything he had lost and never had. As he huddled in the shadows of the bustling marketplace, the rich colors and joyful sounds became a cruel backdrop to his existence - a constant reminder of his hunger, the gnawing emptiness that churned in his stomach. Envy twisted in his gut as he watched the children run freely, their faces lit with laughter, while he navigated the harsh reality of the life of the less fortunate. Each day was a battle against the bitterness that threatened to consume him, leaving him grappling with the hopelessness that came from simply existing on the streets, where kindness was as scarce as the food he desperately sought.>

While he knew it was only a draft, with each sentence, Shen Yuan felt more comfortable. He planned to introduce his story in a different way Master Airplane had done, but to make the necessary changes, he needed to go back to the roots of his fanfiction: canon PIDW. Just as he started to immerse himself in the first chapters of the web novel, ready to take notes on all the tiny details Airplane had ever hinted, a knock interrupted him.

“What are you doing, san-ge?” His meimei asked, peeking into the room.

Shen Yuan shrugged, “You know, just saving the world! No big deal.”

Meimei raised an eyebrow, a slight smile twitching at the corner of her lips. “Whose world are you saving?”

“Luo Binghe’s,” Shen Yuan admitted. His sister gave an understanding noise. She has heard him rant about that web novel, countless times.

“That explains everything,” she nodded wisely, sitting down next to the sickbed. “What a hero…”

“Right? I can’t let a bunch of characters with great potential wallow in bad writing forever! It would be a crime against humanity or something.”

His sister laughed at his excitement, but she felt like something unknotted from her heart. It was lovely to see her brother finally be so lively and full of light as he was ranting about his plans on how to improve the story. Shen Yuan didn’t notice how many hours he was talking about his outlines and ideas, nor the way his sister's smile was a bit wobbly at the corner of her mouth.

When she had to leave, she made him promise that he would keep up with the story. Shen Yuan didn’t understand why she thought it was so important for her, as she never read PIDW - nor would he ever recommend it to her! -, but it was something he could definitely promise. He would write his revised PIDW until the very end!

-*-*-*-

The first chapter he posted, was technically not even a chapter, only a comprehensive guide to the main characters, the canon structure of the cultivation world, and the lore behind the key elements that would affect his version of the story. He introduced some of the peaks Airplane never spoke about in details, he clarified each peaks’ and sects’ core motivations and values, and the differences between spiritual, physical, and demonic cultivation. He explained the structure of the demonic world and its hierarchy, and who were the key players. He was pretty sure nobody really read it, especially not the PIDW fans who wanted nothing except for papapa, but it was for his own peace of mind anyway. He wanted to make a guide to canon; after all, he didn’t want to make a completely new story - he just wanted to elevate the already existing one! He wanted to expand it, and play with it; figuring out the lore behind everything to make it make sense! Giving characters complex motivations, relationships, and arcs that weren’t abandoned for more senseless papapa! Building up a protagonist, who wasn’t just a power fantasy, who survived because the Plot said so, but a flawed, yet relatable individual who worked on his own perceptions, ambitions, and insecurities!

And so, the second - well, first - chapter was born. It wasn’t perfect, as he had to get used to writing again after so many years, but it was something. Something, that told a story of a young orphan boy living in a difficult situation, and who lost the only person he’d ever loved in a tragic fate. Only when he reached the conclusion of the chapter, did he name his character: Shen Jiu. The Scum Villain.

After all, if you save the Scum Villian, give him a relatable background, and make sure gets the push he desperately needs to change, you can save the best protagonist ever: the cute little bun that was Luo Binghe. And the best part was that everything he wrote was built on the teeny-tiny crumbs Airplane left between two torture fantasy scenes.

For a moment, he imagined Airplane reading his story, learning from it, and turning PIDW into a classic novel, but then he snorted. Only in his dreams. Probably that hack of an author would lean more on the sex scenes if he’d ever learn about StSV as a fuck you. At least he would never know that it was his biggest hater, Peerless Cucumber was writing it…

The usually boring and tiring hours in the hospital turned more exciting while creating something. He forgot how much it meant to him when he was younger, stuck in the hospital, he found writing to cope with pain and boredom. It was much better than just allowing the nurses to stick him full of needles and read shitty web novels all day.

The only other thing that made his days more interesting was the guy in the other room.

He remembered hearing one of the nurses telling her colleague, “Poor guy. He accidentally electrocuted himself with his computer. It is a miracle he survived!”

At first, he wasn’t interested in the guy, but then they met in the hospital’s garden. Shen Yuan had been outside for his daily walk out in the fresh air when the guy was trying to figure out how to use the wheelchair alone. He looked way too pale to be healthy and was clearly exhausted, his hands trembling with each movement.

Feeling concerned, Shen Yuan approached him, slowly, as if he was moving closer to a wild beast. Or more like, to an overly anxious hamster.

“Hey,” Shen Yuan said with a smile. “Would you like me to help you?”

The guy blinked, his wide, brown eyes darting towards Shen Yuan - oh, he had such beautiful eyes! -, before quickly flicking away. Shaking his head slightly, he denied it. “I’m fine,” he whispered.

He looked anything but fine.

But Shen Yuan knew it better than to push. The guy was obviously scared, maybe even panicked, so he didn’t need a stranger crowding him. However, he didn’t want to leave the poor guy alone, because who knew what could happen to him, so he stayed.

Walking a bit farther away, he sat down on the bench; even though he needed to rest for a bit. Almost dying was not a fun experience, nor a quick way to be healthy again.

“Okay, but if you need anything, I’m here,” he stated. The guy didn’t respond. He didn’t even look up. But Shen Yuan could clearly see his distressed posture. He waited a moment, then added. “You know, I don’t want to brag, but I’m pretty good at being a distraction! You know… if you ever need someone to divert your attention from something. If you wish to.”

The guy tensed, but then, hesitantly, glanced back at Shen Yuan.

“A… distraction?”

Shen Yuan nodded. Grinning, he said, “I’m good at talking about random stuff. About books, K- and C-dramas, Western series, making fun of conservatives, fun facts about animals and mythical beasts… Hell, I can even tell you about most of the famous K-pop band’s lores, if you want me to! Or you can listen to me ranting about fantasy and Xianxia world-building and the numerous ways an author can screw up the economy and livability of their world! Basically, I can talk about anything.”

For a moment, the guy just stared at him, his expression showing the same incredulity everybody always looked at him. Shen Yuan wondered if the guy would be the same, and rather choose anxiety than the infodump Shen Yuan could provide for him, but then…! A miracle happened! The man’s lips twitched into the faintest hint of a smile!

“I’ll keep that in mind.” It wasn’t an ask for help. But it wasn’t a rejection either.

They stayed relatively silent for a while, but when the nurses came for them both, they parted with a smile and the unspoken promise that they would meet again.

Even just thinking back to that first meeting filled him with warmth. He wished they could talk more the next time, or at least just interact again. Until then, however, he had his fanfic to occupy his mind, time and energy.

While the first few chapters didn't gather much attention at first, slowly, but surely, he started getting comments and compliments, people wishing him to continue with his work.

Amongst the few comments, one was standing out. It wasn't the usual “pls more!” or “when will you update???” or “this sucks. You should write more about qjl pushing sj down and- [redacted]”. Instead it was thoughtful, even enthusiastic.

Fallingfromsky1: I really like the way you’ve fleshed out the cultivation world! The attention to detail with the sect politics and partly ancient, partly modern, partly created customs is exactly what PIDW was missing! It makes the story so much richer. Can’t wait to see where this goes!

Shen Yuan blinked, a little surprised. Other than the above mentioned ones, most of the comments he’d seen on fanfiction in the PIDW fandom were either thirsting over characters or begging for more smut. This... this was different. It wasn’t just a compliment; it was someone who cared about the same things he did.

Without thinking too much about it, Shen Yuan replied:

NobodysShizun: Thanks! That’s exactly what I was going for. I thought PIDW’s world had a lot of potential, but it was wasted on... well, you know. I hope you will continue to like it even when I shift the focus to Luo Binghe. I want him to feel like a real person, not just a sex-crazed stallion for readers to project onto.

Almost immediately, Fallingfromsky1 responded:

Fallingfromsky1: Oh, definitely! I can't wait to read it! That’s one of my biggest complaints too. The characters in PIDW could be so much more, but it’s like the author keeps sacrificing depth for... other things. I think what you’re doing here is amazing. Even the Scum Villain feels much more relatable.

Shen Yuan felt a weird sense of validation from those words. It was like Fallingfromsky1 understood exactly what had driven him to write this fanfiction in the first place. For the first time, Shen Yuan felt like he wasn’t just ranting into the void.

His interactions with Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky were a completely different beast. They were nothing like his conversations with Fallingfromsky1, which had become comfortable and almost... reassuring. No, when it came to Airplane, things were prickly from the start, like a battleground full of grenades.

The web novel that had driven him to the edge of frustration - and, let’s be honest, the brink of insanity and death - was something he continued to read even after he’d started writing his own fanfiction. For one, he needed to know how canon progressed to be able to improve its quality. For another… he would have read it anyway. There was just something infuriatingly addictive about the terrible plot and ridiculous characters, not to mention the endless papapa scenes. He was hooked and not even his much better story could fulfill his need of bad literature.

After each new chapter, Shen Yuan found himself unable to stop from leaving biting, sarcastic comments on the story under his usual handle, Peerless Cucumber. He wanted to keep his accs as far as he could for as long as it was possible.

Peerless Cucumber: Great. Another fight resolved with the power of an inexplicably sudden increase in the protagonist’s cultivation without anything at all. There weren't any helpful flowers around him! He didn't even dual cultivate! Then pray, tell me, how the fuck did his cultivation get better so suddenly?!

Shen Yuan hit send, feeling deeply irritated with the author. Sure, he had long since proven that consistency and thinking wasn't his strong suit, and Shen Yuan's come to accept that nothing about PIDW was ever going to make logical sense, but at least venting in the comments helped ease his annoyance.

To his surprise, not long after, a reply popped up.

Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky: Hey, it’s called plot progression, Cucumber-bro. Maybe read a book on narrative structure instead of whining in the comments?

Shen Yuan blinked. It was quite sudden; Airplane never responded to his comments before. This was new. And... well, a little thrilling. Exciting. It felt strangely like a secret.

Peerless Cucumber: Oh, trust me, I’ve read plenty of books on narrative structure. Maybe you should try that sometime instead of churning out nonsense every other chapter.

Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky: At least I’m consistent in said nonsense. What's your excuse for staying with me after more than 400 chapters?

Shen Yuan couldn’t help but laugh out loud at his phone. He never would have expected that Airplane was so snarky and that he would ever talk with him like this. He was quite excited to explore whether it was going to be the beginning of something new - leaving snarky comments on PIDW, only to have Airplane respond with just as much sass. He hoped it would continue.

He hoped Airplane would enjoy it as much as he would.

Next

[poomphuripan]

Week 9 - My Stand-In News from YYDS Entertainment

Tong-Tinkarn and May-Manasanan, the young wife who is also a real estate business heiress, have been living separately in different houses for a while. Tong-Tinkarn who after marriage became the national outstanding husband. But this time it seems like they're really fighting, showing signs of love falling apart. This man has made a move after rumors surfaced that he posted the song "FLAW" by YEW on social media. Will it be like the lyrics that say 'If I had asked for anything, can I beg you to come back?'

Ming is becoming a series executive producer for the first time. Revealed that he will begin to reduce the work in front of camera and turn to investor instead. Because Thai actors get low wages and it's not enough for him to eat Omakase every meal. Hopefully he will be a driving force to improve the quality of life of the team behind the scene. He has a choice of leading cast in mind, but everyone have to go through the casting process. He will let the director make the final decision. He also makes an announcement to the marker that prepare for the open casting. It will be a very big production series named 'My Stand-in'. the IP is adapted from a famous novel in China. (this is soooo meta i'm howlinggggg)

Secretary position recruitment: The main duty of this position is to take care of the boss as requested. May have to do OT as appropriate. Animal lover; Perfect driver; Require good negotiation skill with police

Police were notified that a victim had been shot. It was found to be a celebrity with the initial J. It is believed that the thief miscommunicated and kidnapped the wrong person. The boyfriend of the victim, also a celebrity with the initials Khun Chai M., came to send the ransom. There was a shooting incident until it missed and hit the victim. At the scene there was another celebrity with the initial T. He is believed that there is involvement in the illegal loan case of the carpet shop owner who caused the incident.

Mike-Metheeyuth denies rumors of having a sweetheart. The man who was secretly photographed was just the new secretary. He still holds the position of number one single man who is wanted. Mike just acquired a big carpet factory. He wants to organize a promotion to buy a house from Akarayotha Group and get a free wool carpet.

Previously, famous actor with initials Khun Chai M. He was filmed by a fan saying he was very sick and admit in the hospital. With less than an hour ago, a paparazzi secretly took pictures and saw a rising star actor with the initial J. gó to take close care of him. Feeding rice and water to this man who couldn't eat on his own, as if his arm was injured. Everyone is watching to see if he is the real sweetheart.

Not MingJoe at the hospital making it into the tabloids. Mike is constantly saving his family's reputation like acquiring a carpet factory to cover the illegal loan debacle of Tong 😭 My favorite piece of information is probably Ming reducing his work as an actor because the wages is not enough to let him eat Omakase every day 🤣 But also the fact that it's "open casting", let the director have final choice in casting, the series name, I just know it's a reference to My Stand-In production process itself 🥹

[leafsbabe]

Justin Herbert - sparks fly (SMUT)

4.3k words, reader is described as not small height wise but the rest is hopefully vague enough

Coming to LA had been a spur of the moment decision but you never regretted it one bit.

You wanted an adventure and one of your friends needed an apartment sitter/somebody to take over their rent for a three month trip overseas so you packed a bag and headed to Hollywood. What you didn’t anticipate was falling in love with the city and so your illegal sublet turned into a small apartment of your own, your vacation into an unpaid internship into a paid internship into a job, and your adventure into a new home.

You didn’t live lavishly like the upper echelon but you could pay your rent, go to large outdoor flea markets on the weekend, and splurge on tacos from the taqueria at the corner while still putting away some money for savings so it was safe to say that life was going pretty damn great.

Justin and you bumped into each other on a hike. Or rather he bumped into you, causing you to stumble, fall, and skim your knee in the least sexy way possible… if there even was a sexy way to get hurt.

But Justin had been sweet, squatting down next to you and making sure you weren't seriously hurt before helping you up. You weren’t a short girl, never had been, but this handsome stranger towered over you in a way that made your thoughts run wild. You couldn’t help but look up at him while he helped you to the nearest bench. He sat down with you and you both drank from your water bottles side by side, sneaking glances at each other from the corners of your eyes.

He was the first to say something, his words stuck in your memory to this day. “Do I know you from somewhere? You look familiar.”

Later you would learn that this was supposed to be a pick-up line and the follow up would have been about him seeing you in his dreams but at that time you had just filmed a scene in a popular tv procedural as scared coffee shop visitor #4 (something you had told everyone back home and no one in LA, because it felt weird to talk about something like that here) so you just blurted that out.

Was it embarrassing? Yes. Did it lead to you two sitting there on that bench talking about shows until the sun started to set? Also yes.

Justin and you exchanged numbers and you even threw caution in the wind and let him walk you to your car, because pretty serial killers wouldn’t talk about the nuances of copaganda for hours and if they did you’d take you chances at knocking him out with your reusable water bottle even if he was over a head taller than you.

That night you sent each other a handful of messages. The next day he even called you after work like a total weirdo. The weekend after he took you to a restaurant in the hills and encouraged you to order something that wasn’t the cheapest salad on the menu because he was going to pay, like a gentleman. You shared a bottle of non-alcoholic sparkling grape juice. Him because he drove, you because you wanted that gorgeous man to absolutely rail you and thought any perceived inebriation might prevent that.

He didn’t fuck you but there was a prolonged make out session in his car where he felt up your tits, so you didn’t even feel bad getting yourself off with your trusty vibrator after he dropped you off at your apartment. 

Your second date took you outside again with a small hike followed by a picnic. He had packed all kinds of food because he wasn’t sure what you liked and had forgotten to ask. Justin laughed about panicking and buying half a store worth of snacks just so that you’d have something you like. It was so sweet.

He didn’t kiss you like he did after the first date, wild and like he had to hold himself back. 

No. His kisses were sweet, hands never wandering above your waist or below you hips. He did accept it when you invited him up to your place for a coffee though. Half a dirty iced chai latte later he had you pressed against your couch, his large hands dangerously close to your ass.

Yet he still didn’t fuck you.

“Next time,” he promised with his head buried in your throat, “after our third date I'll take you home and won’t let you leave my bed for the next three days.”

It was sweet, in a way, and you hadn’t had sex since before you moved to LA anyways so what difference would a few more days make.

“Okay. Tomorrow?” You didn’t even care that it sounded desperate.

“Can’t.” Justin groaned. “We’re leaving for an away game the day after tomorrow and I meant what I said about keeping you in my bed.” 

You felt his lips against your pulse as he spoke.

“When do you get back?”

“In four days.”

Fuck. Maybe a few more days did make a difference.

He kissed your neck again, grinding down and showing you just why the wait would be worth it. Hopefully you would remember to charge your vibrator. 

He took you to an arcade style place for your third date and it was an absolute blast. With so many options of games to try out you barely had time to look at everything. Justin was a gentleman the entire time, a pattern you noticed during your last two dates. Even though you’d worn a short skirt (and safety shorts because tall girls and mini skirts didn’t always get along) and cozied up to him all afternoon his hands remained off your ass and solidly in PG-13 areas.

You were having fun, challenging each other while laughing the entire time, but you were looking forward to the end of the date when you could finally go home with him. You could feel the vibe shift, growing needier as time went on, with Justin reflecting his own desires back at you.

When you accidentally touched a sticky surface and had to go to the bathroom to wash your hands you had the genius idea to take off the shorts and shove them to the bottom of your bag. 

And boy did that idea pay off.

Twenty minutes later you were in the front seat of his car as Justin drove the two of you back to his place with his right hand on your thigh inching higher and higher. He didn’t look at you as it slid under your skirt, eyes on the road, but the smirk on his lips made it clear to you that he knew what he was doing. He was so close to touching you where you needed him the most when the car stopped and he withdrew his hand as you groaned. 

“Patience.” He teased.

You climbed out of the car before he could help you out, downright eager now. By the time you reached his front door you could barely hold yourself back. All it took was a split second, the door closed behind you and Justin unceremoniously pressed you against it as his lips landed on yours. 

You’ve never been a small girl but the way you had to tilt your head to kiss Justin had a way of making you feel tiny. He bent down, lips never separating from yours, and just picked you up, hands under your skirt somewhere between your plush thighs and your ass. You moaned and he continued kissing you, fingers kneading against your soft skin as he turned around and started waking further into his apartment. God, you hoped his hands would leave bruises.

A noise interrupted you and when you looked to the side you saw a cat looking back at you from where it was perched on a cabinet. Justin didn’t follow your eyes, lip finding your neck instead. “That’s Nova.” He mumbled against your skin. “I’ll introduce you two later.” Then he sucked hard and you forgot everything except him. Somehow you made your way to his bedroom, something you only noticed after he let you fall back against the pillows.

With Justin standing at the edge of the bed looking down on you, you felt even smaller. He was breathing heavily, chest rising and falling, showing off his strong muscles. Oh, how you wanted them to hold you down as he took you.

You took off your shirt in one smooth motion, throwing it somewhere to the side of the bed and hoped that Justin wouldn’t mind. Judging by the way he was staring at your tits, he didn’t.

Justin soon followed your lead, stripping his clothes off as you watched. There was no denying that he was smoking hot, his body solid and you couldn't help but press your thighs together in the search of some relief.

“What do you need?”

Need. Not want. You had to take a moment to collect yourself. What did you need?

“I need you to fuck my mouth,” you started, “I need to choke on your dick until I cry and I need you to fuck me until I forget my name and can only scream yours.”

For a moment you worried that it would be too much. That it would be too rough for Justin or that you were too needy. But the look in his eyes showed you that he would give you everything you asked for. 

Justin stood in front of the bed, looking down at you while he stroked his dick. Precum gathered at his tip and a whimper left your lips at the sight. 

“You want it?” He asked, tone just mocking enough to make you close your legs harder, desperately looking for any kind of friction.

You nodded while looking up at Justin, moving on the bed to get closer to him. Finally you could almost taste him. The pink tip of his dick just barely touched your lips. 

“Please.” You begged for him to let you have it. 

“Be a good girl and show me you deserve it.” 

He gave it to you slowly. One hand holding his dick, the other cradling your cheek, as you took it.

Justin felt heavy in your mouth as you took more and more of him. He was big, yes, but you knew you would manage to swallow all of him. You looked up at him through your lashes until his muscles blocked the view and you could close your eyes, fully concentrating on making sure that Justin would give you everything you needed. 

Slowly you pushed yourself to your limit, fitting him into your throat until your lips wrapped around his base. Justin’s dick was a lot to take in and you didn’t know if you could take it should he try and fuck your throat but for a short moment —with him frozen in front of you— you managed to take all of him. 

You swallowed around him once, twice, and began to slowly pull back before Justin moved again.

“Fuck.” His voice was deep and low as the hand that had been cradling your cheek moved to now hold the back of your head instead.

You couldn’t help but moan around him, the vibrations around his dick only making him hold onto you tighter.

“Good girl.” His fingers flexed against your head and the combinations of both made you feel dizzy, happy that you could be good for him. 

With his other hand Justin reached out and trailed his fingertips from your shoulder down your arm until you realized what he wanted and gave him your hand. He brought it to his thigh, letting you lay your palm flat along the thick firm muscle before covering it with his own. 

“If I’m too rough,” Justin started, “or you need me to slow down, if you just want to take a break or stop for any reason, you slap my leg and I’ll stop. Understood?”

Nodding yes didn’t seem to satisfy Justin, instead he used the hand on your head to pull you off him. You barely managed to do that thing with your tongue before he had you looking up at him through your lashes again.

“I need you to say it.”

“Understood.” And oh how wrecked your voice already sounded. There was no doubt in your mind that it would be completely gone by tomorrow.

“Good girl.” He said again, before silencing your whine with his dick.

There was no denying that Justin was strong. He was thick with muscle, powerful, yet you never felt unsafe as he picked up the pace.

He was rough like you had asked him to. Thrusting hard and fast and pushing your head down to meet him halfway. It was maddening. Above you Justin said something but you were far too gone to listen.

It wasn’t until his movements got gentler and he slowly withdrew from your mouth that you tuned back in.

Justin hadn’t come and was still hard, was one thing you noticed, looking between his dick in front of you and his face high above you.

The fact that you had teared up like you had told him you wanted to, was another.

His hands came up to cradle your face and he gently wiped away the tears with his thumbs as you looked at him.

“So pretty.” His voice was soft, gentle as if to not spook you and the thought of him underestimating you made you want to protest but all that ended up happening was you pouting as he stroked your cheeks.

“Aw don’t pout. You can suck it again later. I just didn’t want to come until I got to fuck you.”

He had to bend down to kiss you, this tall man folding in half to reach you where you kneeled on his bed, and the reminder of your size difference made you squirm.

In response Justin kissed you harder, pushing forward until you lost our balance and fell back on the bed. In a fluid motion Justin followed, bracing himself above you as his lips found your lips, your jaw, your neck.

He made his way down your body, leaving behind a trail of kisses as he went. When he reached your chest he departed from his careful line of kisses. The two kisses, sweet little pecks almost, that he pressed to either boob, stood in stark contrast with his hand that bullied it’s way under your body so that he could unhook your bra. He tugged on the bridge until it became loose enough for you to get the hint and shrug it off while he pulled your skirt and embarrassingly soaked underwear down your legs in one smooth motion.

You didn’t even get the chance to think about hiding yourself from Justin before his large hands gently parted your legs enough for him to fit between them. His mouth fit itself against the skin on the side of your knee before he slowly, teasingly, kissed his way up to where you needed him most. Even though you anticipated the first touch of his lips against your pussy it still sent a shock through your body.

Justin didn’t waste any time pretending to tease you any longer. His lips found your clit almost immediately, wrapping around the small bud almost lovingly before sucking. His tongue toyed with it while you moaned his name. Your hands found their way into his hair and you pulled, hard, but not hard enough to dislodge Justin’s wonderful mouth. It took two more moans before he released your clit and wandered lower, dragging his lips along your skin as he moved. The first drag of his tongue was testing, exploring. The second one wasn’t tame at all.

Justin groaned against your pussy and you swore you could feel it through your entire body. He pulled away for a moment and a pitiful whine left your lips at the loss of his mouth, only for it to turn into a moan when you saw him licking his lips before diving in again. 

You got lost in the feeling of his mouth on you, the way his lips moved so similarly to when he was kissing you just moments before. His long fingers joined his lips in bringing you pleasure and you couldn’t hold back anymore, grinding against his face until you came with your thighs wrapped around his head.

Justin continued to mouth at your thigh as you started to come down before he stood up from the bed and you took a moment to just watch him. The aftershock of your orgasm still ran through your body and combined with the picture in front of you it felt like a high you never wanted to end. Justin was breathing heavy, his thick chest rising and falling hard. The last bit of sunlight shining through the curtains tinted the bedroom in a soft light making his face glisten and you realized with a jolt that the wetness on his cheeks came from you.

The fading light painted him golden, with his hair shining like a halo, a statue as a tribute to raw desire. His likeness could grace museums across the globe, giving other marbles complexes but instead of the Louvre he stood in his bedroom, looking down at you sprawled across his bed, waiting for him to take you like he had promised. 

When Justin finally moved it was in determined long strides. He was a simple man that kept his condoms in the first drawer of his nightstand. Part of you wanted to tell him to forget about them, to fuck you bare until you were dripping with him, but you didn’t want to spook him with your eagernes, so you resigned yourself to bringing it up the next time. Justin passed you on his hunt  for protection and you had to crane your neck back to watch him, but the view made up for it. His front was absolutely gorgeous but you had to admit that his backside was quite nice to look at as wel.You were debating whether or not you should reach out to touch him when he turned around, box in hand, before throwing it onto the bed near your head. It still had plastic around it and you couldn’t help but imagine Justin going to the store in preparation of your date, grabbing it not just in case but on purpose. Had he gotten it in preparation for this date? After the second date? After your first? The big box seemed awfully ambitious though. Perfect.

Instead of walking back to the end of the bed and working his way up your body again Justin just skipped straight to holding himself above you and you didn’t waste any time getting your hands into his locks and pulling him down until your lips connected. He kissed you hard and fast while slowly lowering himself until his heavy body pressed yours into the mattress. It felt so easy to let yourself be blanketed by his warmth, his solid body so close to yours that you could feel every inch of his desire.

“Fuck.” He exclaimed as he pulled away from the kiss. Justin didn’t venture far though, staying close enough that you could feel the strands of his hair tickling your cheeks.

“Can you…” He nodded towards the box.

You nodded, eager, before reaching for the box and struggling to rip it open. When it finally popped open it did so in spectacular fashion, spilling an avalanche of little foil packets all over the bed and your body.

“Oh.”

You didn’t know which one of you laughed first but it took some time before the two of you calmed down again. Justin helped you clear the mess, swiping the countless packets towards the free side of the bed. It should feel weird, at least a little bit, now that the tension between Justin and you got broken. For a second you feared that your clumsiness had turned him off completely but then he kissed you again, slow and deep and like he wanted to devour you.

One of his hands reached for the pile of condoms while the other moved up your side, cupping one of your boobs when he reached them. His thumb barely grazed your nipple before Justin moved away but he still managed to pull a moan from your lips.

“Ready?” He asked, looking at you with hungry eyes.

“Yes.” You needed him so badly. “Please.”

The first push of him inside you was careful but determined. Justin gave you aloof himself until he was buried to the hilt, pausing once he was fully inside you and giving you time to adjust to his large size. Youwanted to tell him to move,to fuck you until you felt him days fromnow, butbefore you could ask-beg-demand he silenced you with another seering kiss. You learned why when he pulled away from the kiss, still buried deep inside you.

“I need to be careful with you.” He talked low, almost whispering. “Don’t want you to be sore when I fuck you again later.”

It made sense. Afterall Justin had promised to keep you in his bed for days. But with him filling youtube so perfectly, there was simply no room left for logical thinking.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he started to move. Slow, meticulous thrusts that didn’t feel overwhelming at first but drove you wild after just a few movements of his hips. There was something otherworldly in the way he managed to hit all the places that needed to be hit, filling you up perfectly again and again and again. Justin stayed close to you while he fucked you, his hips grinding in deep and putting just enough pressure on your clit to send sparks of pleasure through your whole body.

Your hands tightened in his hair, making him groan before dipping down and encapsulating one of our nipples with his hot, wet mouth.

“Jus- Justin.”

His teeth grazed against the soft flesh of your boob teasingly before his tongue delved down, soothing the hard peak between his lips in gentle laps. Justin groaned when you tugged on his hair and the sensation of it vibrating against your skin just made you tighten your grip further. There was no denying that you needed him. Him and his soft mouth and his hard dick and his strong body pressed against yours. This perfect wave of pleasure just kept building with every single movement but you couldn’t reach your high.

“Just—” He bit down hard enough for it to sting before his tongue traced the slight indents. “Please.”

You weren’t above begging but your fucked out brain couldn’t think of any more words. Thankfully he seemed to understand what you needed even without your saying it.

“Fuck. Okay.” He lifted himself a little bit higher, chuckling when you whined at the loss of his weight and warmth. “You asked for this.”

He sounded just the right amount of condescending when you clenched around him and he rewarded you with a “good girl”.

You didn’t last long after Justin started fucking you properly, rough and fast like you had wanted him to. The power behind his thrusts was enough to move you on the bed, closer and closer towards the headboard every time your bodies connected. He had stopped holding back and made you come with only a handful of thrusts.

When you came to it was with Justin holding himself above your body —breathing hard— and your still shaking thighs wrapped around his hips. Part of you felt disappointed for missing what he looked like when he came but you knew there would be more than enough orgasms for you to catch a glimpse.

It took you a while to feel secure enough to remove your legs from him. After you did so Justin carefully pulled out and disposed of the condom. While he went to get a towel to help clean you up you were left in his bed. It took some energy to sit up but it didn’t hurt. You felt empty but that could be changed soon enough. 15 minutes. Maybe 20. Depending on when Justin wanted to go again.

Speaking of. Justin returned to his bedroom, still gloriously naked, holding water bottles in one of his hands and what looked like a washcloth and a towel in the other. You didn’t feel self conscious as he helped you clean up. He had seen every part of you already anyway.

He offered you a shirt of his to cover up but you didn’t mind being bare before him. There was the hint of a love bite starting to form on your chest and you hated the thought of covering up all his hard work. Still, you made a mental note to take him up on his offer later. You had a feeling that a shirt that fit his large frame would swallow you up and you wanted nothing more than to live out the big men’s shirt moment that had been denied you for so long. 

Instead you curled up with him, his blanket half draped over your bodies while you just laid there, enjoying the closeness between you. The energy between Justin and you continued to be magnetic, even after giving in to your desires, and you found yourself unable to tame a wide smile.

“Happy?” Justin looked at you with a soft smile on his lips.

“Hmmm. Very.” You let your eyes wander for a moment. “Want to make out?”

Instead of verbally answering Justin just cupped your face and brought your mouths together in a saccharine kiss.

[catreadsbooks]

Kissed (Magnus and Alec's first kiss)

It was printed on thin paper, nearly parchment, in a thin, elegant, spidery hand. It announced a gathering at the humble home of Magnus the Magnificent Warlock, and promised attendees “a rapturous evening of delights beyond your wildest imaginings.” —City of Bones

Standing in the stairwell of Magnus’ home, Alec stared at the name written under the buzzer on the wall. BANE. The name didn’t really seem to suit Magnus, he thought, not now that he knew him. If you could really be said to know someone when you’d attended one of their parties, once, and then they’d saved your life later but hadn’t really hung around to be thanked. But the name Magnus Bane made him think of a towering sort of figure, with huge shoulders and formal purple warlock’s robes, calling down fire and lightning. Not Magnus himself, who was more of a cross between a panther and a demented elf.

Alec took a deep breath and let it out. Well, he’d come this far; he might as well go on. The bare lightbulb hanging overhead cast sweeping shadows as he reached forward and pressed the buzzer.

A moment later a voice echoed through the stairwell. “WHO CALLS UPON THE HIGH WARLOCK?”

“Er,” Alec said. “It’s me. I mean, Alec. Alec Lightwood.”

There was a sort of silence, as if even the hallway itself were surprised. Then a ping, and the second door opened, letting him out onto the stairwell. He headed up the rickety stairs into the darkness, which smelled like pizza and dust. The second floor landing was bright, the door at the far end open. Magnus Bane was leaning in the entryway.

Compared to the first time Alec has seen him, he looked fairly normal. His black hair still stood up in spikes, and he looked sleepy; his face, even with its cat’s eyes, very young. He wore a black t-shirt with the words ONE MILLION DOLLARS picked out across the chest in sequins, and jeans that hung low on his hips, low enough that Alec looked away, down at his own shoes. Which were boring.

“Alexander Lightwood,” said Magnus. He had just the faintest trace of an accent, something Alec couldn’t put his finger on, a lilt to his vowels. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Alec looked past Magnus. “Do you have — company?”

Magnus crossed his arms, which did good things for his biceps, and leaned against the side of the door. “Why do you want to know?”

“I was hoping I could come in and talk to you.”

“Hmmm.” Magnus’ eyes raked him up and down. They really did shine in the dark, like a cat’s. “Well, all right then.” He turned abruptly away and disappeared into the apartment; after a startled moment, Alec followed.

The loft looked different without a hundred churning bodies in it. It was — well, not ordinary, but the sort of space someone might live in. Like most lofts, it had a big central room split into “rooms” by groupings of furniture. There was a square collection of sofas and tables off to the right, which Magnus gestured Alec toward. Alec sat down on a gold velvet sofa with elegant wooden curlicues on the arms.

“Would you like some tea?” Magnus asked. He wasn’t sitting in a chair, but had sprawled himself on a tufted ottoman, his long legs stretched out in front of him.

Alec nodded. He felt incapable of saying anything. Anything interesting or intelligent, that was. It was always Jace who said the interesting, intelligent things. He was Jace’s parabatai and that was all the glory he needed or wanted: like being the dark star to someone else’s supernova. But this was somewhere Jace couldn’t go with him, something Jace couldn’t help him with. “Sure.”

His right hand felt suddenly hot. He looked down, and realized he was holding a waxed paper cup from Joe, the Art of Coffee. It smelled like chai. He jumped, and only barely escaped spilling on himself. “By the Angel —”

“I LOVE that expression,” said Magnus. “It’s so quaint.”

Alec stared at him. “Did you steal this tea?”

Magnus ignored the question. “So,” he said. “Why are you here?”

Alec took a gulp of the stolen tea. “I wanted to thank you,” he said, when he came up for air. “For saving my life.”

Magnus leaned back on his hands. His t-shirt rode up over his flat stomach, and this time Alec had nowhere else to look. “You wanted to thank me.”

“You saved my life,” Alec said, again. “But I was delirious, and I don’t think I really thanked you. I know you didn’t have to do it. So thank you.”

Magnus’ eyebrows had disappeared up into his hairline. “You’re . . .welcome?”

Alec set his tea down. “Maybe I should go.”

Magnus sat up. “After you came so far? All the way to Brooklyn? Just to thank me?” He was grinning. “Now that would be a wasted effort.” He reached out and put his hand to Alec’s cheek, his thumb brushing along the cheekbone. His touch felt like fire, training tendrils of sparks in its wake. Alec sat frozen in surprise — surprise at the gesture, and surprise at the effect it was having on him. Magnus’ eyes narrowed, and he dropped his hand. “Huh,” he said to himself.

“What?” Alec was suddenly very worried that he’d done something wrong. “What is it?”

“You’re just . . .” A shadow moved behind Magnus; with fluid agility, the warlock twisted around and picked up a small gray and white tabby cat from the floor. The cat curled into the crook of his arm and looked at Alec with suspicion. Now two pairs of gold-green eyes were trained on him darkly. “Not what I expected.”

“From a Shadowhunter?”

“From a Lightwood.”

“I didn’t realize you knew my family that well.”

“I’ve known your family for hundreds of years.” Magnus’ eyes searched his face. “Now your sister, she’s a Lightwood. You—’

“She said you liked me.”

“What?”

“Izzy. My sister. She told me you liked me. Liked me, liked me.”

“Liked you, liked you?” Magnus buried his grin in the cat’s fur. “Sorry. Are we twelve now? I don’t recall saying anything to Isabelle . . .”

“Jace said it too.” Alec was blunt; it was the only way he knew how to be. “That you liked me. That when he buzzed up here, you thought he was me and you were disappointed that it was him. That never happens.”

“Doesn’t it? Well, it should.”

Alec was startled. “No — I mean Jace, he’s . . . Jace.”

“He’s trouble,” said Magnus. “But you are totally without guile. Which in a Lightwood, is a conundrum. You’ve always been a plotting sort of family, like low-rent Borgias. But there isn’t a lie in your face. I get the feeling everything you say is straightforward.”

Alec leaned forward. “Do you want to go out with me?”

Magnus blinked. “See, that’s what I mean. Straightforward.”

Alec chewed his lip and said nothing.

“Why do you want to go out with me?” Magnus inquired. He was rubbing Chairman Meow’s head, his long fingers folding the cat’s ears down. “Not that I’m not highly desirable, but the way you asked, it seemed as if you were having some sort of fit —”

“I just do,” Alec said. “And I thought you liked me, so you’d say yes, and I could try — I mean, we could try —” He put his face in his hands. “Maybe this was a mistake.”

Magnus’ voice was gentle. “Does anyone know you’re gay?”

Alec’s head jerked up; he found he was breathing a little hard, as if he’d run a race. But what could he do, deny it? When he’d come here to do exactly the opposite? “Clary,” he said, hoarsely. “Which is . . . Which was an accident. And Izzy, but she’d never say anything.”

“Not your parents. Not Jace?”

Alec thought about Jace knowing, and pushed the thought away, hard and fast. “No. No, and I don’t want them to know, especially Jace.”

“I think you could tell him.” Magnus rubbed Chairman Meow under the chin. “He went to pieces like a jigsaw puzzle when he thought you were going to die. He cares —”

“I’d rather not.” Alec was still breathing quickly. He rubbed at the knees of his jeans with his fists. “I’ve never had a date,” he said in a low voice. “Never kissed anyone. Not ever. Izzy said you liked me and I thought —”

“I’m not unsympathetic. But do you like me? Because this being gay business doesn’t mean you can just throw yourself at any guy and it’ll be fine because he’s not a girl. There are still people you like and people you don’t.”

Alec thought of his bedroom back at the Institute, of being in a delirium of pain and poison when Magnus had come in. He had barely recognized him. He was fairly sure he’d been screaming for his parents, for Jace, for Izzy, but his voice would only come out on a whisper. He remembered Magnus’ hands on him, his fingers cool and gentle. He remembered the death-grip he’d kept on Magnus’ wrist, for hours and hours, even after the pain had passed and he knew he would be all right. He remembered watching Magnus’ face in the light of the rising sun, the gold of sunrise sparking gold out of his eyes, and thinking how oddly beautiful he was, with his cat’s gaze and grace.

“Yes,” Alec said. “I like you.”

He met Magnus’ gaze squarely. The warlock was looking at him with a sort of admixture of curiosity and affection and puzzlement. “It’s so odd,” Magnus said. “Genetics. Your eyes, that color —” He stopped and shook his head.

“The Lightwoods you knew didn’t have blue eyes?”

“Green-eyed monsters,” said Magnus, and grinned. He deposited Chairman Meow on the ground, and the cat moved over to Alec, and rubbed against his leg. “The Chairman likes you.”

“Is that good?”

“I never date anyone my cat doesn’t like,” Magnus said easily, and stood up. “So let’s say Friday night?”

A great wave of relief came over Alec. “Really? You want to go out with me?”

Magnus shook his head. “You have to stop playing hard to get, Alexander. It makes things difficult.” He grinned. He had a grin like Jace’s — not that they looked anything alike, but the sort of grin that lit up his whole face. “Come on, I’ll walk you out.”

Alec drifted after Magnus toward the front door, feeling as if a weight had been taken off his shoulders, one he hadn’t even known he was carrying. Of course he’d have to come up with an excuse for where he was going Friday night, something Jace wouldn’t want to participate in, something he’d need to do alone. Or he could pretend to be sick and sneak out. He was so lost in thought he almost banged into the front door, which Magnus was leaning against, looking at him through eyes narrowed to crescents.

“What is it?” Alec said.

“Never kissed anyone?” Magnus said. “No one at all?”

“No,” said Alec, hoping this didn’t disqualify him from being datable. “Not a real kiss —”

“Come here.” Magnus took him by the elbows and pulled him close. For a moment Alec was entirely disoriented by the feeling of being so close to someone else, to the kind of person he’d wanted to be close to for so long. Magnus was long and lean but not skinny; his body was hard, his arms lightly muscled but strong; he was an inch or so taller than Alec, which hardly ever happened, and they fit together perfectly. Magnus’ finger was under his chin, tilting his face up, and then they were kissing. Alec heard a small hitching gasp come from his own throat and then their mouths were pressed together with a sort of controlled urgency. Magnus, Alec thought dazedly, really knew what he was doing. His lips were soft, and he parted Alec’s expertly, exploring his mouth: a symphony of lips, teeth, tongue, every movement waking up a nerve ending Alec had never known he had.

He found Magnus’ waist with his fingers, touching the strip of bare skin he’d been trying to avoid looking at before, and slid his hands up under Magnus’ shirt. Magnus jerked with surprise, then relaxed, his hands running down Alec’s arms, over his chest, his waist, finding the belt loops on Alec’s jeans and using them to pull him closer. His mouth left Alec’s and Alec felt the hot pressure of his lips on his throat, where the skin was so sensitive that it seemed directly connected to the bones in his legs, which were about to give out. Just before he slid to the floor, Magnus let him go. His eyes were shining and so was his mouth.

“Now you’ve been kissed,” he said, reached behind him, and yanked the door open. “See you Friday?”

Alec cleared his throat. He felt dizzy, but he also felt alive — blood rushing through his veins like traffic at top speed, everything seemingly almost too brightly colored. As he stepped through the door, he turned and looked at Magnus, who was watching him bemusedly. He reached forward and took hold of the front of Magnus’ t-shirt and dragged the warlock toward him. Magnus stumbled against him, and Alec kissed him, hard and fast and messy and unpracticed, but with everything he had. He pulled Magnus against him, his own hand between them, and felt Magnus’ heart stutter in his chest.

He broke off the kiss, and drew back.

“Friday,” he said, and let Magnus go. He backed away, down the landing, Magnus looking after him. The warlock crossed his arms over his shirt — wrinkled where Alec had grabbed it — and shook his head, grinning.

“Lightwoods,” Magnus said. “They always have to have the last word.”

He shut the door behind him, and Alec ran down the steps, taking them two at a time, his blood still singing in his ears like music.

[snickerdoodlles]

headcanons behind the fic: that time Chay said he shot Kim in gone fishing:

so, generally speaking, Chay talking about the mafia on The Official Wik Twitter(TM) was just supposed to be a silly offhand joke lowkey inspired by the fact that I was in the middle of my annual Terry Pratchett/Discworld kick at the time of writing this fic. except then I kept writing and turned this into a series, and now I have to work with a premise where Chay talks about the mafia outright because literally no one will ever believe he or Kim are actually doing crime, it's all for the bit, haha they're so funny <3. oops 😂

aside from me tormenting user ghoasters in this series tho, the above scenario is not related to a mafia incident. when Chay says he betrayed Kim by shooting him, he is 100% referring to the time he was beating Kim at a shooter game and Kim tried to cheat by romancing Chay irl, and Chay looked him dead in the eye, blew him a kiss, and called him a scrub as he shot Kim's character dead. the fucking injustice of it all, honestly.

that said, Chay has actually shot Kim before-- if you've ever seen that brooklyn 99 episode where Amy shoots through Jake's leg to save him from his hostage situation? it was something like that. talking exclusively through eyebrow, less than 30 seconds, a clean shot through the leg, etc.

it was the most romantic thing anyone's ever done to Kim in his entire life. Chay demanding him back? Chay swooping in to save him from some jackass? their intense eye contact where Kim silently willed Chay to shoot him and Chay did because he knew Kim trusted him? ofc this is the hottest thing, it was so worth getting shot in the leg if it meant Chay swooping in to rescue him--

Kim thinks all of this very, very quietly and only ever in his journal, because Chay does not see this situation the same way. Chay's still upset he had to hurt Kim at all, that is his favorite person, his favorite people should never be hurt, especially not by him. Kim's over here doodling hearts around "Chay + Kim Kittisawat" whenever he thinks about that rescue, Chay's instant waterworks and sniffles any time someone so much as mentions it.

[i-try-to-write-stuff]

Stolen Wife - 5

Synopsis �� Tommy Shelby is married to Grace, but he becomes obsessed with Y/N, wife of Reuben Fitch, Tommy’s business partner in the U.S. who is unaware of his actual “business”.

This blog supports Palestine. Zionists are not welcome here.

You don’t know how your life turned into a nightmare…a ghoulish nightmare. One moment you were happy and celebrating your pregnancy with your family and friends and the next moment, you were getting held at gun point by a robber, you knew your husband had a gun in his pocket, something you loathed but at that moment you were happy that he had that gun, the robber must have seen the gun when he shot Rueben erratically, and then he turned on you, Rueben protected you till his dying breath, Rueben shot the robber with his gun and saved your life, but your husband your family was taken away from you, your husband and best friend snatched from you. You couldn’t even comprehend what had happened. When you woke up in the hospital, for a moment you thought it was a bad nightmare, but the machines attached to you signaled the opposite.

The attending doctor told you that you were shot in the chest, the bullet miraculously had missed your heart but punctured your lung, and you were lucky to be alive. But were you lucky? Or were you the unluckiest person, you had lost everything, your husband was shot dead in front of you, the shooter shot you too but missed the first shot and was not alive to shoot the next bullet.

“I am sorry Mrs. Fitch; we could not save the baby…” these words brought you out of your mind fog. Instinctively your hand went to your abdomen…Your baby died too…Your one connection to Rueben died too…You were catatonic…You could not even do the basic job of protecting the life growing within you…You never felt so useless.

Your friends and family gave you space, space to mourn, space to grieve not just your husband, but your child too…

Police called it an armed robbery but Javy, Mickey, Nat, Brad, Jake did not think so, but they didn’t say anything. They increased your security. They changed your locks, your cameras and every damn device, while you were in hospital. They even increased the surrounding security in hospital. Rueben knew how dangerous his line of work was, and your security was paramount to him. For you, your husband was a military contractor with a pub he ran with his friends, you just didn’t know that your husband was involved in illegal activities as well which included drugs, liquor and arms.

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

You were on your way to get to some Chai with oat-milk, trying not to break down every damn morning, missing your husband and the morning rituals you shared with him. You bumped into Tommy in a café in Vancouver, Canada of all places, physically bumped into him, you were in over your head, and you were not looking where you were supposed to be going.

“Oh, I am so sorry.” You looked to apologize to the stranger, but you were met with relatively known steely blue eyes.

“Mrs. Fitch?” Thomas asked in his Brummie accent.

Fuck, that name, that label, that brings up so much sorrow, your eyes well up, but you blink away those tears, you tell yourself, you need to move on…need to power through…It’s been almost a year since your life upended, the love of your life killed in front of your eyes.

Not really, you were unaware of your surroundings, but you were trying to keep to yourself, but Thomas Shelby needed to find a way to talk to you, so he chose the easiest way of it all, crashing into you purposefully.   

You smiled, trying to place him…

“Oh hi” you reply. Tommy saw the questioning look in your eyes, you had no clue who he was or what he was.

“I am Thomas Shelby, we met briefly at a Charity Ball in Birmingham.”

“It is nice to see you again, Mr. Shelby.” you reply politely.

“I heard what happened…I’m sorry for your loss.” Tommy added.

You just nodded reflexively, like you did every fucking time when someone offered their sympathies.

“I didn’t expect to see you here Mrs. Fitch, I thought you lived in San Diego.”

“I did…I do…Well, not now exactly, I am taking a sabbatical and please call me Y/N.” you asked, basically pleading, not wanting another reminder of what you lost or who you were…Rueben’s wife or what you are now…his widow. His sad pathetic widow who is running away from her life because you can’t fucking function properly without your soulmate.

“Only if you call me Tommy” He responded while physically guiding you inside the coffee shop, and there is nothing you can do but comply out of politeness.

Tommy asks you for your order, you wanted to protest and buy your own beverage, but you also didn’t want to be rude. You begrudgingly order some chai. Tommy Shelby bought you your chai but nothing for himself, and it made you feel guilty.

He pushed the mug towards you, you took the mug and thanked him.

“So, Y/N, what are you doing here?” Tommy asked in his heavy Brummie accent.

“I guess, I just needed to get away…”

“I heard what happened. I am sorry for your loss.” Tommy consoled.

Do not cry, do not cry, do not cry….you chant mentally.

You clear your throat and squeak out “Thank you”.

“So, how long are you here for?” Tommy probed.

“I don’t know, I may be here for a while, or I may leave and find another city to go to which is safe… Mickey usually sends me the locations that are relatively safer for me. I do not have any timeline.” You reply.

Tommy knows that very well. He is well-aware of Rueben’s people taking care of your security. Tommy only got to know about your location from his people on the East Coast, namely Michael.

“That’s fun, why don’t you come visit us in Birmingham?” Tommy proposes.

You are taken aback by his proposition, you don’t really know what to say, you barely know this man, why would he invite you to his home?

“Mr. Shelby…ummm…I mean Thomas, I don’t think that is a good idea…”. You mumble out.

“Why not? I see it in your eyes, you are trying to escape your painful memories, anyone can see that…why don’t you join us in another continent as long as you want where Rueben and his memories wouldn’t haunt you.” Tommy confronts you, basically bringing up everything that your family and friends have been thinking…going for your jugular.

You gulp nervously, you didn’t expect some relatively unknown person to expose your wounds and like a wounded animal you ran away from that table. You did not like being confronted by the likes of Thomas Shelby, how dare he say anything about what you should do….

[xannador]

Would you ever write out what the alternate ending for Mostly (H)armless was, even if it’s too much to fully comic? I felt like my heart was torn out by the ending, even if the alternate ending is never realized I’d feel better knowing what else might have happened 😭

I have gotten this question a couple times now and wasn't sure if I should answer this. Because doing so would forever close the door on any alternate ending. But sadly I don't see myself drawing more HFR fancomics... so...

Up until page 41 the story more or less follows a set path. Or at least all roads would lead to page 41. After that I had a couple different scenarios and scenes that I could go for. The version that ended up being made was a mismatch of... basically all of the most horrific ones.

And here are the others:

Scenario 1: Almost got away

There was a version of the story in which Chai and 808 got separated again and Chai would end up on the ground floor rather than way up on the hanging platforms. And he'd lure V1-RS underneat one of those platforms and 808 would drop it right on top of the psycho robot, crushing it. This doesn't kill it but it would be stuck (and furious). And Chai and 808 had the freedom to just... walk away from it, while it's screaming bloody murder at them. However, one of its taunts would make Chai turn back; the one about him being nothing without Vandelay tech and he's lucky his traitor drone (808) saved his skin all this time. This would have pissed Chai off to the point of actually turning back to face V1-RS, wasting enough time that V1-RS frees itself. And this scenario would end tragically similar to the one we got: Chai beating V1-RS without any kind of technology but at the cost of his own life.

I didn't go with it because I didn't want to separate Chai and 808 twice in the span of a handful of pages.

Scenario 2: Only one has to die

In this scenario, V1-RS cutting the platform wires on page 46 actually results in the entire platform crashing to the ground. Chai managed to grab onto one of those Vandelay banners and although it rips it actually slows down his fall enough that he and 808 survive. But in this version the museum is also set ablaze.

Chai and 808 would use the smoke and debris (from Chai's fight at the start of the story) to hide from V1-RS while slowly trying to sneak away. A falling plaform would break a window and that would give them an escape route.

But just as they reach fresh air and can see the night sky, V1-RS would once again manipulate Chai into turning back. This time by saying it's going after the gang instead. Just like in the final story Chai realizes that if he wants to save his friends he isn't going to make it out himself. But this time 808 is still alive so he shoves her into a trash can against her will, apologises and disappears back into the fire.

Chai and 808 are into this adventure together so I felt that either both should live or neither. It became neither in the end.

Scenario 3: Xan cannot resist putting kaiju into everything

A different version of scenario 1. After getting crushed by a platform, V1-RS would have crawled out of its host body like one of those parasitic worms that brainwash insects (don't google that) and forced itself into one of the huge display robots. Then it would have ripped other giant robots apart and taken bits of them to enhance itself into something gigantic and monstrous. Chai and 808 would have taken that time to nope the hell out of the museum. They'd scare a few random civilians still out on the street with their unfortunate appearance and meet up with the gang who'd be glad, and horrified, to see them. The reunion would be cut short as an absolutely gigantic, multiheaded, many-legged robot chimera bigger than ZP-1500 bursts out of the museum.

A high octance chase scene (potentially inspired by godzilla 1998) between Roxanne's poor car and Chimera V1-RS and a climb to the top of Vandelay tower could have been next. And the only right way to end a monster like that would be to somehow skewer it on the old spectra tower.

This scenario would've been cool as shit and a spectacle of (literal) epic proportions.

It also doesn't fit the rest of the story at all. Maybe something like this could have worked had it been a robot kaiju story from the start, rather than a horror comic. Also beating the monster with team work was not the right way to end Mostly (h)Armless. Chai always had to beat V1-RS on his own. That is the point of this story.

Scenario 4: If only 808 hadn't broken

There was a way Chai could have beaten V1-RS without getting hurt (or at least not hurt as badly) if he had only been able to communicate with the rest of the gang. That way Peppermind could have figured out V1-RS obvious weakness... it's an AI. And an AI is only as scary as its database. if Chai had found a way to connect 808 to the old V1-RS computer, Peppermint would have been able to poison its database with random nonsense. She could really upload anything; useless trivia about dolphins, the entire anime bath scene wikia, SCR-UB poems, and all Chai would have to do is keep V1-RS busy and distracted until it was so poisoned it wouldn't be able to function anymore. Then it would be easy to finish off.

Although Chai would get help from Peppermint in this scenario rather than do it all on his own, I think this version of the story could still have worked better than the one I drew. Because Chai defeats V1-RS without his robot powers and while being technically on his own.

Perhaps had I taken more time to think the story over I may have gone with this last version. Although If I had been given time to reflect I would probably not have made a fan comic at all. The only reason Mostly (h)Armless exists is because I turned my brain on autopilot for 10 months.

It was a very weird time and the meme of it feeling like waking up from a year long dream-state wasn't entirely a joke.

So yeah, these are the scenarios I can remember. There were a couple of shorter scenes that got removed but story wise they don't add much.

[wen-kexing-apologist]

10 BL Boys I Would Throw Hands For

Okay so everyone is doing retrospectives and what not and I should just kinda quit while I'm ahead, but I just rewatched My Ride and decided that I needed to highlight some of the boys that I would 100% throw hands for should they be wronged by any man. So without further ado here are the people who would inspire me to seek justice and retribution against those that have hurt them with the same feral energy of cocaine bear.

Tawan- My Ride

First if all, Por better watch his fucking back cause if he does anything to fuck with Tawan again you better believe I'm jumping on the back of Mork's pillon and we're turning a man into a pin cushion. Tawan has literally done nothing wrong ever in his life. He cares for everyone so deeply. He is so soft and kind and gentle in the most beautiful way and there is not a malicious bone in his body. Tawan is just a genuinely, naturally, and fundamentally good person and I am so glad that he is a sunshine for sunshine kinda guy because Tawan deserves a man like Mork in his life (and Mork- who would also be on my list but he throws hands just fine on his own -deserves a man like Tawan).

Uea- Bed Friend

Uea is so incredibly lucky to have King in his life, because if it were me, and Uea told me what his parents did to him, the next thing anyone knew I'd be at Uea's parents' house ripping his step-father's throat out with my bare fucking teeth and locking his mother in the bathroom with like a pack of hungry wolves or some shit. Uea's family got off far far too fucking easy because King is capable of some level of self-restraint. I, however...if there is one person on this list who I would turn the most feral/attack dog for, it is this beautiful angel right here. Sleep with one eye open Uea's Mother, I'm coming for you.

Tian- Khun Chai (aka To Sir, With Love)

He's beauty, he's grace, his mother will murder you in an instant if she thinks you know he's gay. I honestly probably don't need to do anything to the people who have wronged him cause between his mother, his brother, and his boyfriend he's got that shit covered, but...I love him so much. He just wants to be himself. But himself is a gay man in occupied Thailand, in a family that disowned their last outed queer member and drove him to suicide so, he's having the time of his motherfucking life. I am not saying I condone the swift delivery of a death to anyone his mother thought might threaten him, but...I get it.

Sakuko- Koisenu Futari

Hello to one of my new-found greatest loves. Sakuko is yet another human embodiment of sunshine who has had too many people do her wrong in her life. She has built herself a little family, and she's found a life she loves, and if anyone ever threatened that you better believe I would be there swinging a baseball bat in an instant. Sakuko, my aroace queen, just know that I care about your happiness above all other things. Enjoy your bike ride!

Patts- La Pluie

gif from @ueasking

Now listen, I know Patts is capable of holding his own against those who have wronged him, but he should not have to do everything himself. Patts, save your energy for your veterinary practice, I'll return Tai to you after he has been smacked around a little bit. Patts is one of the rare characters here that I would throw hands for both in fiction and on this website. You have a problem with Patts, you can kindly meet me in the Waffle House parking lot at 3am.

Mrs. L- Laws of Attraction

If there is anyone on this list that I would have to bet has killed someone before, it's Mrs. L. I have no doubt that even now if someone tried to fuck with her in any way she'd have them on their ass in an instant, but bad bitches gotta stick together ya know? Call up Maya, Rose, and Nawin and I will meet them out front to take care of that problem for you. You've got your hands full with those boys of yours.

Daisy- Secret Crush on You

Oh Daisy, oh my darling, darling girl I got your back from now until the end of the earth. Daisy is just the absolute sweetest, and I want all the best for her, and if anyone was to ever fuck with her in any way, they are getting Cask of Amontillado'd by me, personally. Look at that smile, keep your brightness, babes.

Han Ba Ram- Sing My Crush

gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul

Okay so. Honestly I understand why Im Han Tae was immediately cute, cuddly, and flirtatious with this boy. He is an extremely huggable lad. I can also understand how that need to hold this Sad Gay(tm) could have impacted the length of time it took you to realize you had feelings for him. This sad boy right here doesn't know it but he has accidentally summoned a small gang of people who are ready and willing to go all Ides of March on his music teacher's ass. So heads up to Sangin, @bengiyo, @ginnymoonbeam, @lurkingshan, @kyr-kun-chan, @shortpplfedup, and I are outside your front door and we just want to talk.

Boston- Only Friends

Now, I will not deny my boy is a bit of an asshole, a shit-stirrer if you will, and there are times and places where I will let Boston deal with the consequences of his own actions and get smacked around. HOWEVER, you slut shame my boy? Death. You pull an Atom on my boy? Death. You abandon my boy? Death. According to the end of Only Friends Boston's is absolutely lacking in people in his corner, so I will be there with bells on. Boston, cruise as much as you want baby, and if any of those boys give you trouble, give me a call.

Amane- If It's With You

gif by @dramascene

In case you haven't picked up on it, sad!happy boys are my kryptonite and Amane is just the saddest boy with the best bundle of joy mask I have ever seen. He deserves the world, this boy, and if anyone ever tried to steal his joy again, I would steal their soul right out of their bodies.

Wasn't gonna make this a tag game or anything but if anyone wants to answer it, go right ahead!

I will, however, tag @negrowhat, @respectthepetty, and @sorry-bonebag since they are the ones that supported my vision so they see the post

[minasattic]

“it’s you, silly”

yoo jeongyeon x fem! reader; fluff

synopsis: Valentine’s day is just another day that reminds you of the fact you’re single, until your best friend introduces you to her cousin; aka the girl you’ve been crushing on. overall just a cute silly little fic

warnings: reader is lowkey dense, cursing, not proofread, rushed ending, i’m not a very good writer </3

a/n: my first fic! slowly healing the jeongyeon drought. ALSO HAPPY VALENTINES DAY !!!

wc: 2.1k

-

You’ve always hated Valentines Day. To you it was just time for happy couples to brag and remind you how you’ll be forever alone. However, this year was differe-

“Earth to Y/N!” A hand waved infront of your face. You push it away with a playful scoff. “Gosh, Sana! I was just zoning out…” “Okay, well i don’t care. I want to introduce you to someone!”

You tilt your head, confused. “Um.. okay? Who-“ You stop mid-scentence, mouth hanging in the air. Your best friend had her arm around none other than Yoo Jeongyeon, the girl you’ve been admiring for the past month.

“This is Jeongyeon, my cousin! Y/N, Jeongyeon. Jeongyeon, Y/N!” Sana exclaims cheerfully, gesturing to us.

You stare in silence, mouth still open. Why has Sana never told you that Jeongyeon is her cousin? I mean, it’s not like you told her about your little crush, but still! You catch Jeongyeon staring, and realize that you must look like an idiot right now.

“O-Oh!” You reach your hand out. “Hi, nice to meet you!” You breathe out, relieved you were able to atleast get that part out without stuttering. Jeongyeon looks down at your hand, then shakes it awkwardly. “Hi.” She says, looking back up.

You pull your hand away instantly, embarrassed. God, Y/N! You’re such a weirdo. It’s 2024 no one shakes hands anymore!

You look up to see Jeongyeon laughing, hand covering her face. “You’re blushing, Y/N.” You instantly blush more. Thankfully, Sana comes to your rescue. “She does that all the time, don’t worry about it Jeongyeon.” She says, moving to put her arm around your shoulder.

The bell rings, signaling the next class. “Ah, shit. I gotta go.” Jeongyeon says with a sigh. “Y/N, can i have your number?” She asks, holding out her phone towards you. You quickly grab it, saying “Sure!” You type it in, then hand the phone back to her. “Thanks! Talk to you later.” She says, winking then walking off to her class.

You stand there, blushing uncontrollably and rethinking all of your life choices up to that point, but Sana interrupts your thinking once again.

“Don’t mind her Y/N, she’s just a flirt-“ She turns towards you, only to find you as red as a tomato, looking like you’re fighting demons in your head.

“Oh you totally like her.” Sana says, smirking at you.

“No! No I don’t! Like you said, I just blush a lot!” You exclaim, trying to defend yourself.

“Mhm… whatever you say! You know, I can put in a good word for you~” She nudges your shoukder pkayfully. You groan and start to walk off, Sana following closely behind giggling.

-

You sat at your desk in your pajamas, eating popcorn and playing minecraft on your computer. While you mindlessly gather materials, your phone buzzes. You pick it up, a look of confusion forming on your face. “An unknown number..?” You open the text.

Unknown - 11:36

Hey, is this Y/N?

Y/N - 11:37

Yeah? but who is this?

Unknown - 11:37

damn, you already forgot me? i feel hurt! it’s me, jeongyeon.

You gasp. You quickly save her contact to your phone, then hold it with both hands while you try to think of a reply.

Jeongyeon - 11:41

Hello?

Y/N - 11:41

Sorry, I had to do something!

Jeongyeon - 11:41

Lmaoo, it’s okay. wyd rn?

Y/N - 11:42

playing minecraft!

Jeongyeon - 11:42

no way?? i LOVE minecraft.

fuck. should i ask if she wants to play…? woudk she think i’m weird??? my fingers ghost over the keyboard. whatever.

Y/N - 11:44

really? do you want to play with me then?

Jeongyeon - 11:44

fr? you’ll let me?? hell yeah!

Y/N - 11:44

okay, just call me when you’re ready!

you sit in your chair, staring off into space. minutes have passed since you asked her if you wanted to play, yet it still hasn’t hit you yet that she actually agreed.

“Oh my god. Oh my god.” You quickly stand up and stuff your face in your pillow as you scream. “IM GOING TO PLAY MINECRAFT WITH YOO FUCKING JEONGYEON. WHAT THE FUCK?”

The phone on your desk buzzes, so you stand up and rush to grab it. You quickly answer, but not before you make sure your camera is off.

“Hello?” You hear Jeongyeons voice from across the line.

“Hi.” You say, internally screaming. Her camera is on and you can’t help but admire how pretty she looks, even without makeup. “It’s not fair that I have my camera on and you don’t..” She whines, “Turn yours on, Y/N”

You hesitate, but then after quickly checking yourself in the mirror on your desk, you turn you camera on and give her a sheepish smile.

“You’re blushing again, Y/N. Cute.” You don’t respond. Instead you look towards your computer screen, blushing like a madman. “I’m making the world, join me.” “Okay, Y/N-nie” Your face heats up at the nickname while you try to focus on the game.

That night, the two of you talked for 5 hours, and you enjoyed every second of it.

-

“So, Y/N. Jeongyeon told me about your little minecraft date on friday~” Sana says teasingly.

You almost spit your drink out. “What? It wasn’t a date?- wait, did she call it a date??” You ask curiously, face beet red.

Sana laughs, “No, silly. But i bet you wish she did.” She winks, and you sink back into your chair sighing. “Speak of the devil,” Sana says, looking behind you, “Hi, Jeongyeon!”

Jeongyeon takes a seat next to you. “Hi Stupid, Hey Y/N!” You wave at her while Sana complains about the silly nickname.

Suddenly, Sana shuts up (which is a first) “So Jeongyeon… Valentine’s day is in 2 days, do you have any plans?” Sana inquires, sneaking a wink at you. You silently pray to god that she’ll stop, but Jeongyeon speaks up. “Yeah, I have something in mind. I met this girl recently and i think i’ll ask her.”

Your heart drops. Another girl? Who is it? Is it Mina? The girl Jeongyeon always hangs out with? Sana interrupts your train of thought. “Y/N? What about you?” She says, smirking.

“Huh? Oh… um? I don’t really know right now…” You say, averting your eyes from the two. Jeongyeon nudges your shoulder. “Better hurry, or all the good ones will be taken.” She shoots you wink. You’re the good one, and apparently you’re already taken.

The bell rings, once again ending your time with Jeongyeon. You all say your goodbyes and you watch as Jeongyeon walks the opposite direction of you and Sana. “Y/N, you should ask her to be your Valentine.”

You turn your head, staring at Sana with a “You can’t be serious” face. “You’re crazy. I’m never doing that! You heard her anyways, she said she has her eye on someone already.”

Sana smiles with a mischievous gleam in her eyes, but you don’t catch it. “Don’t be a scaredy cat, Y/N. The worst she can say is no!” You sit down in your seat, then turn to her, making gestures with your hands as you talk. “Exactly! The worst she can say is no! My whole life would ruined!”

Sana grabs your arms and gently pushes them down. “Here, how about this,” You calm down, listening intently, “I’ll help you. I’ll give her some hints, you know?.” You look down, contemplating whether or not it would work. “Okay… you do that. Fuck, i’ve got to make her a card.” You grab your bag, slinging it on your shoulder as you turn towards the door. “Y/N where are you going?” Sana exclaims. “I’m skipping! I need to get the stuff for her right now!” You say, running out of the class and making your way out of school.

-

You’re walking down the sidewalk, bags full of art supplies and candies in hand. you weren’t looking where you were going, too focused on trying to think of how you want to decorate her card, when all of a sudden you bump into someone. the bags fall onto the ground, the contents spilling out.

“Shit.. I’m sorry! I wasn’t looking where I was goi-“ The person starts laughing. “Gosh, Y/N. Were you always this clumsy?”

You r heart speeds up. Jeongyeon stands infront of you, laughing. “Whatever…” You say, blushing. You begin to pick up the art supplies off the floor. Jeongyeon bends down and picks up the heart stickers you bought.

“Oh? You decided to ask someone? Who?” She asks curiously. You blush, “I can’t say..” Jeongyeon nods then puts the stickers in the bag you’re holding. “She’s one lucky girls I bet she’ll love it.”

Your heart swells. If only you knew… You thought. You thank Jeongyeon before turning to leave. “Y/N, wait.” You turn around. “Can you meet me here, Wednesday, at 5?”

Valentine’s day. she wants to meet you on valentine’s day. I mean, you were already planning on asking her to meet, but her asking changes the whole thing. “Y-Yeah, sure.” “Okay, see you later, okay?” You nod, watching her walk off. You look around, making note of the tree that overlooks the sidewalk and the bench sat next to it.

Okay. Here. 5 o’clock.

-

Saying you’re nervous is an understatement. There isn’t words to explain how you feel right now, standing under the tree that Jeongyeon told you to meet at 2 days earlier.

You’d spent the last two days making her a handmade card, a paper bouquet with her favorite candies inside, and writing a letter confessing your feelings to ner. Sana has been non-stop hyping you up, and you’re grateful for that. But now, you’ve been waiting for what feels like hours under this tree, and all the encouragement she gave you has worn off.

Your palms are sweaty and you’re positive you’re pale. You’re contemplating just leaving, but you hear a voice call out to you.

“Y/N!” You turn, hiding the card behind your back. Jeongyeon walks up to you out of breath, hand behind her back. “I’m sorry i’m-“ she huffs, “I’m late, i had a last minute thing to attend to.”

“It’s okay” You reply, fidgeting with your jacket zipper with your free hand. “I asked you to come here because i wanted to tell you something.” She says. You speak up, “I actually have something to ask you, can I go first?” You ask, praying she says yes. You wanted to make your feelings known before she told you whatever she had to say. She nods.

You pull the card out infront of you, holding it out and bowing your head. Your eyes are closed, face towards the ground. “I know you’re planning on asking someone else to be your valentine already, but i had to ask. it’s totally okay if you reject me! ever since sana introduced us- no, before that, i’ve really liked you. i just wanted to shoot my shot and give it a try, you know? so will you be my valentine?”

You take a deep breath. there’s silence, then there’s laughter. You look up, confused. You’ve done it again Y/N. Embarrassed yourself infront of the girl you like. “I’m sorry… i’ll go-“ You turn to walk away but a hand on your shoulder turns you back around.

Jeongyeon brings the hand behind her back out to reveal a bouquet of tulips with a card stuffed inside. “Y/N, will you be my valentine?” Now you’re the silent one. What was happening? You begin to think out loud. “You’re asking me? What about the other girl you were talking about Monday? The one you were going to ask, isn’t it Mina-“

Your rambling is cut off with soft lips against yours. The kiss is short and sweet but it’s everything you’ve been wanting and more.

Jeongyeon pulls away, then looks into your eyes. “It’s you, silly. I wanted to ask you. I was talking about you that day. Not Mina. Besides, she’s with Chaeyoung. I like you.”

You’re speechless, and you’re sure your face is beet red. You try to formulate a response, but your brain isn’t working. So instead, you press your lips to hers again, pulling away with a smile. “I was so worried you were going to say no.” Jeongyeon laughs. “Y/N, i don’t know if anyone’s ever told you this, but you’re super dense. I’ve been hinting at it since we met. Even Sana has!”

You blush, the puzzle pieces connecting in your mind. You feel stupid for not realizing it before.“Whatever… Lets go?” Jeongyeon smiles down at you. “Yeah, let’s get dinner. Then, we should have a minecraft date!” The two of you laugh together, walking down the sidewalk with intertwined fingers.

Suddenly, Valentine’s day didn’t seem that bad anymore. Not when you had the girl of your dreams by your side.

[the-cookie-of-doom]

Five things Porsche learns about Kim lets gooooo

This actually started as a prompt from @shubaka forever ago (before we were friends 🥺) and I decided to torture myself by turning it into a 5+1 fic! But then I stalled out bc I didn't know what to add for the other parts klasjdhgf. It's actually still floating somewhere around here in my writing tag!

In it, Porsche is trying to befriend Kim, and Kim is horribly resistant to it. Porsche steals Chay's phone since Kim won't answer him, only for Kim to hang up as soon as he speaks, it's a whole thing. Basically Kim being forced to bond with his future brother in law <3

The first thing Porsche learns about Kim is that he's a squirrely little bastard. He weasels his phone number out of Chay - after finding out that Kinn didn't have it saved in his own phone, which will be a conversation for later - but Kim doesn't any answer any of the flurry of phone calls and texts that Porsche hurls his own way. Apparently, according to Porchay, Kim has memorized all the numbers of everyone important enough to be worth his time, and doesn't bother with anyone else.

What if someone has to borrow a phone? Porsche had asked. Sucks to be them, Chay replied, with a silly smile that might mean he's kidding, or it might mean he knows exactly how ridiculous Kim is being, but still somehow likes him anyway. Porsche would prefer the former but he's almost certain it's the latter, and he's trying to figure out exactly why Chay would like him so much. Because as far as Porsche can tell? Kim is more akin to a feral cat than anything else. Keeps his distance, sullenly watches Porsche anytime they happen to be in the same room, looking away only to scan for the nearest exit - which he takes at the earliest opportunity - and Porsche is certain Kim has actually hissed at him once. Probably not. Since Kim won't answer unknown numbers, Porsche is forced to stoop to his level. Kinn's phone is of course out of the question, which only leaves one other person, at least only one Porsche can easily access, guaranteed to have it. He's holding a struggling Porchay in a headlock while the phone dials. It only rings once. "Hello, love," Kim greets, his voice warm and syrupy and so, so fond that Porsche has to gag, just to see the way his brother flushes. "I'm sorry, Kim!" Porchay shouts. He's still struggling, digging his hands into Porsche's sides. "I tried to stop him!" "Porsche." And there it is, that flat tone Porsche is used to. "Hi, Kim, how's it going?" he asks casually. "Goodbye. "Wait, wait, wait!" It's no use. The line is already dead. Porsche releases his brother with a groan, and doesn't fight it when Chay snatches back his phone. "Why does he have to be so difficult?" "Kim doesn't like being cornered, hia," Chay scolds him. "If you just talked to him like a normal person-" "He won't let me! He keeps running!" "You're intimidating!" Porsche doesn't believe that for a second. If Kinn wasn't intimated by him, no way his feral, murderous little brother was. "Maybe you're coming on too strong? He probably think you're gonna kill him for, y'know..." "No, I don't know." Porsche side-eyes Chay, who's no longer making eye contact. "Do I need to kill him?" "No!" "Should I want to?" "Hia, No!" Chay throws his hands up. "See! This is why he won't talk to you! You're embarrassing." "Good. Also, I don't care. I want to talk to him, and unless he wants me to lock you in your room and forbit you from seeing each other for the rest of your life, he better cooperate." Chay lets out a sigh like the weight of all the world is bearing down on him. "I'll talk to him," he mumbles, sullen. 

[danceswithsporks]

Awake- Part 1

Crosshair X Innkeeper!reader

** Not Canon to Season 3 **

Part 3 of the Complete Series

Story summary: Crosshair has seen both sides of the board when it comes to finding his place in a changing galaxy. Now that he knows the truth and is a free man, will he be able to adjust? Or will he need the guiding light of an innkeeper?

Authors notes: Well here we are! Part 3 of the Complete Series! Excited and nervous to get into Crosshairs story during all of this! So sorry for the long wait between Calm and Awake, but I truly hope this was worth the wait and you all enjoy the story!!

Awake, you loved being awake this early. The sun was just barely cresting above the horizon and coating the sea in a soft orange hue. The moon yos were still asleep as was the rest of the island. Your fingernails tapped against the ceramic of your mug filled with warm delicious caf as you watched fishermen leave their homes and make their way down the island to their boats. Your inn was currently empty, the Empire’s new rules and regulations making traveling more difficult for everyone. Once the sun came up you’d get a few islanders coming in for a meal but other than that it was just you in your big seven-room inn. 

One of those rooms was your private apartment, set up to have everything you’d need without having to go out into your inn. The other six rooms were basic and held the essentials. A bed, a desk and chair, a dresser and a lamp. You also had a dining room with four different tables, a common area that housed a warm fireplace, a kitchen in which you did all your group cooking, and the patio that you were currently standing on. Usually, you'd take your morning caf in your apartment but with no one around you’d decided to take the opportunity to just enjoy your inn to the fullest. 

You watched as one of the clones who’d taken up residence at the top of the island walked by you. Wrecker, that was his name. The fishermen loved having him around to help with the ships and the day's catch. Your friend, Stitches, simply loved him. Even if she wouldn’t admit it yet. Two others arrived with him, his brothers Tech and Hunter. Your other dear friend, Chai, had feelings for Tech. You envied both women, finally finding the ones that warmed their hearts. Tech had saved Chai’s life a few months prior when a tsunami had hit your island and in turn, a bond had been formed. From what she told you about the clone, he had some kind of feelings for her as well. Both of them couldn’t see it yet, but you could. As for Stitches and Wrecker, well some kind of interaction had happened between the two of them on the same night of the tsunami making the two of them develop feelings for one another. For both parties, it seemed things had only escalated since then. 

The leader of the group of clones, Hunter, nodded to you as he walked by your patio and down the path toward the docks. You didn’t know too much about him, only that he kept to himself for the most part. From what Stitches told you, he cared only for the safety of his brothers and their sister Omega.  Omega, an odd little girl with a heart of pure gold. She’d joined Stitches on one of her visits to your inn a few weeks ago. She’d been intensely interested in the ins and outs of an inn and how it all worked as well as the customers you’d had. Mainly if any bounty hunters had stayed with you. The truth was that you didn’t know if you’d had any bounty hunters as customers. You tended to avoid delving too deep into your customers' personal lives unless they became regular. Which was very far and few between. 

Stitches had mentioned to you that two other members of their group weren’t around, Crosshair and Echo. Both had left on their own and while Omega talked your ear off about Echo when she’d visited, she hadn’t mentioned Crosshair at all. You wondered what had happened there. The first foghorn of the morning rang out across the island as the first of the ships left the docks and the thoughts of the clone brothers and sister quickly left your mind. Soon your regulars from the island would be stopping in for breakfast, it was time to get to work. 

-*-

“CT- 9904 it is time to awaken.” Emerie stared into the cell of the clone who’d stunned her over a week ago. His mood had decreased exponentially after his escape attempt. No doubt a result of the neurotoxin Hemlock used. 

Crosshair reluctantly opened his eyes and stared at the bright light in his cell. “What now?”  He was tired of these constant tests. 

“Your message has been decoded. Doctor Hemlock has questions for you.” She tapped at her datapad a few times before nodding to the two guards with her. “Bring him to interrogation room eight.” 

A long sigh left Crosshair as he sat up and extended his wrists for the restraints that would be coming. “What, rooms one through seven are too busy?” 

Emerie ignored the snarky comment and turned to step out of the way of the guards. Crosshair reluctantly walked by her with his hands in front of him. The walk to the interrogation room was silent save for the sound of droids moving by them and the cries of the clones who’d lost their minds. Emerie found she held no sympathy for the clones in these cells. They were traitors to the Empire and thus would be treated as such.  If only they’d submit to the reprogramming that was offered to them, their lives would become so much easier. 

The door to the room opened with a hiss making the medical droid within turn towards them. It hovered with a tray of supplies momentarily before placing them down and moving to the side of the room. “On the table. Strap him down.” Her eyes never moved from her datapad as she spoke. 

“Do whatever you want. I have nothing to share with you.” He wouldn’t crack, he wouldn’t waiver. He’d tell them nothing even if it meant his death. Crosshair had made a lot of mistakes in the last year. Choosing not to completely rat his siblings out was not one of them. If the Empire knew even a fraction of what he knew when it came to clone force ninety-nine and how they worked then they’d have been found a lot sooner. But Crosshair was nothing if not loyal to his brothers at the end of the day. Sure. He’d hunted them down in the beginning to get the girl back but his eyes had been opened after Kamino. He only regretted that it took his mission with Mayday to fully see how worthless he was to the Empire. 

Mayday, the clone who didn’t deserve to die. Crosshair found himself thinking about him a lot these days. How he could have protected the man and saved him? How they could have survived that avalanche better and found help somewhere else. So many variables that he thought about constantly. The sound of the restraints on the table drew his attention as he was secured to the cold metal. Emerie moved next to him and stared for a moment. “What?” 

She didn’t care for this clone, he was a traitor, not her brother. A traitor. “Give us the information he requires and make this easier for yourself, CT-9904.” Make it easier on them both. “Where is the clone named Omega?” 

“I don’t know.” Hissed Crosshair while eyeing the large needle on the tray nearby. No doubt the same mixture from the last time he was here. Knowing Hemlock though, it was more potent. 

Glasses were adjusted as Emerie suppressed a sigh before continuing. “Ct-9904, you sent an encrypted message containing the phrase ‘Plan eighty-eight’. What does that mean?” 

Crosshair hissed as the needle punctured his neck and the solution was injected into him. The chemical burned in his veins. “You figure it out.” He wouldn’t give them up. No matter how much this hurts.

“How do you know how to contact them?” She tapped at her datapad and the restraints around his wrist began to hum as electricity prepared to course through them. “How do you contact the clone unit known as Clone Force ninety-nine?” 

The sting of the electricity around his wrists made Crosshair tense. He could survive this. This was nothing compared to the sting of betrayal if he gave up his brothers. “I. Don’t. Know.”  

This would be a long interrogation at this rate. Emerie sighed. “Think for yourself, CT-9904. You can stop all of this right now if you give me the information I want. To show she was serious, she reached to the table and held up a small vial. “I have the antidote to the neurotoxin racing through your veins.” She tapped her datapad and lowered the electricity power. “Take a moment to think, Crosshair.” 

His eyes shifted to stare at her as she used his name. It was the first time he’d heard it in months aside from hearing himself say it or in his dreams. It had to be a trick. What was her angle? She moved the vial of antidote side to side for him to see, the liquid within moving in unison and drawing him in. Relief was right there, all he had to do was answer a question.

-*-

“Crosshair, please.” Gentle hands cupped his face as pure eyes stared into his. “Open up to me? Let me know the real you.”

“You couldn’t begin to understand what I’ve been through.” Crosshair tried to pull away from the hands but found himself stopped.

“ Let me try, sniper. Let me be the one to listen to you and know you. Let me love you.” She cooed sweetly to him while stepping forward and pressing her body against his. “Let me be yours, Cross.”

“Cross. CROSSHAIR” 

Crosshair groggily opened his eyes and looked towards the sound of someone saying his name. His name? Looking at the door to his cell, he saw blonde locs and young brown eyes staring at him. No. Why was she here? “Kid?” He sat up quickly and moved to the door. 

“Crosshair. You’re ok!” She looked over her shoulder quickly before looking back to the clone. “I don’t have a lot of time. I’m just glad to see you’re ok.” 

“What are you doing here?” Were they here to rescue him? 

“Hemlock found us and threatened the others. I gave myself up to protect them.” She didn’t look at him as she spoke, instead opting to stare at her feet.

Now that she mentioned it, he could see the prisoner's uniform on her. “What!” He hissed loudly. Hemlock had found them? Had threatened Tech, Hunter, Wrecker, and Echo? A fury burned inside the sniper at her words. He’d strangle Hemlock the moment he could. But wait. “How are you here?” 

“Hemlock is letting Nala Se use me as an assistant like before.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a ration bar. Carefully she slid it through the slot designed for food on the door to the clone. “I heard they don’t feed you guys enough. Take mine.” She didn’t like the taste of rations anyway.

Crosshair carefully took the ration stick and placed it on the floor next to him. “You can’t come back here Omega. Ya need to think about yourself.” If they found her here talking to him. 

“Omega.” A familiar voice cut through the space. “You should not be down here.” 

Crosshair glared at Emerie as she walked down the hall to them both. “Leave her alone. She was just leaving.” 

“It is not wise for you to be down here. We must go before you are discovered.” Emerie placed her hand on the shoulder of Omega. She ignored Crosshair. 

“Wait. I need to tell him something.” Omega felt herself turned away from Crosshair and prepared to walk. She needed him to hear this from her and not someone else. 

Emerie looked down the hall for any sign of guards or Hemlock. “I will relay the message to you later. We must go.” 

“Go, Kid.” Why was Emerie being so protective over her? He thought back to the interrogation room two weeks prior. She was kind to him then as well. What was going on? 

Omega looked over her shoulder towards Crosshair and nodded. She trusted Emerie to tell Crosshair about Tech. Maybe she’d get lucky and run into him in the clinic and she could tell him then. It just needed to be her. She wiggled out of Emerie’s touch and ran to the cell door, her fingers gripping the metal. “I’ll be back.” 

Crosshair shook his head while Emerie watched them. He didn’t trust her. “Don’t come back.” He didn’t intend for the words to be so harsh but she needed to not come back here. She needed to focus on herself. Pulling his hands away from the door, he stood and walked to the bed. 

“Come, Omega. We must be going.” Emerie gestured for Omega to start walking and the girl finally obliged. She wondered what was so important for the child to tell CT-9904. Whatever it was she’d pass the information along. If only to help the girl trust her more. Out of all the people who deserved to be here, the child was not one of them. 

Nodding solemnly, Omega pulled away from the door and walked away from Crosshair. She wouldn’t listen to him, she’d come back and see him as often as she could. 

-*-

It would be nearly two weeks before Crosshair saw Omega again. Two long weeks of uncertainty and upset. It hadn’t been Emerie who’d told him about Tech. He hadn’t seen the woman in days. No, it had been Hemlock. The asshole had told him while getting ready to torture him again.

“I’ve heard your sister has been to see you. A good reunion?” Hemlock stepped around the table that Crosshair was strapped to. The doctor had taken a liking to testing his latest creations on the clone in hopes of breaking him finally.

Crosshair twitched on the table but continued his refusal to answer. “Where. Is. Omega?” He hadn’t seen her in four days since she’d first come to see him. In all honesty, he’d expected she wouldn’t have given up so easily when it came to seeing him. The fact it had been so long had surprised him.

”Omega is on restricted privileges right now. Far too many attempts to visit you and other clones.” Sighing, he walked around the table while tapping his fingers on the metal. “Nonetheless, she will acclimate to our ways here and be given back her privileges in time. That the ways of the Empire are here to help you. Not restrict you.” He stopped next to Crosshair's head and leaned down. “While there’s still hope for CT-9901 and CT-9903 to understand this I’m afraid CT-9902 will not be able to.” Crosshair's eyes shifted to him, catching the man’s attention. “Ah, you didn’t know? Omega failed to tell you?” Hemlock pulled away from Crosshair while clicking his tongue against his teeth a few times. “Tsk tsk tsk. She should have told her brother that his twin was dead.”

No. Tech couldn’t be dead. The batch was indestructible. They’d survived Kamino being destroyed with them inside of it. Surely Tech could have survived whatever Hemlock had done. His eyes stared daggers into Hemlock's skin. He didn’t believe him.

Hemlock chuckled deeply as he stepped over to the syringe waiting on the medical tray. “You don’t believe me? A shame. I have no reason to lie to you.” Holding the needle up, he tapped it a few times to remove the air bubbles before returning to Crosshair. “Help me find clone force ninety-nine and I’ll allow you to see Omega.”  He watched as Crosshair turned his head away from him and stared at the ceiling. “All I am trying to do is show them the benefits of working for the Empire rather than against it. With your help, you, your brothers, and your sister could earn the life you want. Instead of them being on the run.” The syringe was held up for the restricted clone to see. “So I’ll ask again, CT-9904. Where is Clone Force ninety-nine currently hiding?”

Letting them go so easily after taking Omega had been a mistake. He needed them and their desirable mutations when it came to his dark trooper program. But he was desperate for the young clone to be returned to get Nala Se to work. The Kaminoan had refused to do any work until the girl had been retrieved thus putting them behind schedule to an almost concerning point. It wasn’t until he returned and looked at the latest numbers in the program did he realize the abilities of Clone Force Ninety-Nine would be useful to him. He had CT-9904 and though he hadn’t turned yet, he would at some point. They all cracked eventually. When he did then Hemlock would be able to use his superior sniper skills to train his dark troopers. “Help me to help you.”

Crosshair could still remember the pain from that night. Hemlock's concoctions were becoming more potent. He shifted in his bed while wincing at the pain in his arm. The day prior another clone had tried to free the others and pull off a prison break. Crosshair had been foolish enough to try and join in an attempt to find Omega. The clone who’d led the prison break had been killed on sight and the rest of them punished. His punishment? His dominant arm was broken. 

The guard who’d broken his arm had spoken to him briefly while returning him to his cell. “Even if you did escape you’d be useless as a sniper now. Is there a reason for you to escape?” Those words had cut deep for the sniper.

His arm had been placed in a sling to slowly heal as opposed to him being placed in a bacta chamber. A feeling that Crosshair found painfully uncomfortable, a constant reminder of what happened when you tried to flee the mountain. No one left Tantis. Not alive at least. 

“Crosshair!”

Omega’s voice surprised Crosshair and he visibly jumped. “Omega. What are you doing here?”  How did she get out of her cell?

“Nala Se let me out. Something is about to happen, I don’t have much time but be prepared.” Omega looked over her shoulder before looking back to Crosshair. Her eyes caught sight of the sling and she frowned. So he had been punished during the last prison break as well. 

“What are you talking about? No one would be foolish enough to try and break out after the last attempt.” It had just happened, no one would be dumb enough to try again. He didn’t bother moving from the bed this time, instead opting to lie down and simply listen to the girl. 

“Nala Se got a message out. Plan thirty-seven.” A noise behind her drew her attention for a moment. It wouldn’t be Emerie this time. Not after the clone had raised concerns about the amount of testing going on with Omega. Nor after Emerie tried to help Omega escape a week ago. Omega hadn’t seen Emerie since then and Hemlock told her she wouldn’t. Hemlock had Emerie disposed of after it was clear the woman was no longer under his control. It seemed he wouldn’t keep anything from the girl. “I can’t stay long.”

Plan thirty-seven. Coordinated attacks from both inside and outside with trust in the information. The only problem was that they didn’t know when it would happen. “This place is nearly impenetrable. Don’t be a fool and believe they’re coming, Omega.” 

She looked back at the defeated clone and shook her head quickly. “They’re coming. We just need to be ready.” The noise echoed through the halls once more and she moved away from the door. “I need to go. Be. Ready.” 

Before Crosshair could say anything back, she was gone. Crosshair let out a long sigh as he closed his eyes. The poor girl was about to have her heart broken. There was no way that the batch would be able to survive an assault on Tantis.

 It would be foolish to dream as such. 

Taglist:

@rndmpeep @sarahskywalker-amadala @queenariesofnarnia @idoubleswearimawriter @bambambunny @ravenclawbitch426 @jupitersaturnapollo @mzjakao @heylosers06 @dangraccoon @impala1967666 @andrakass2 @ducks118 @motte-the-goblin @rintheemolion @merkitty49 @jediknightjana @onyxtides @moon-wrecked @mssbridgerton @griffedeloup

[curtain-caller]

The Parallels Between Korsica and Roquefort

So, when I was setting up my plans for Fly-High Rush, things were a bit one-sided in terms of group numbers, so instead of keeping Korsica the same, I decided to swap her and Roquefort. I figured they were similar enough to make a switch work.

But then I realized they were... really similar. Like, very, very similar. The comparisons just kept coming and they didn't stop.

So here we are. Welcome to my Ted Talk.

1. WIND ATTACKS:

Let's get one of the bigger comparison out of the way: both of them fight with wind. Korsica uses it all the time, from turning off generators to putting out fires to kicking Chai's ass. Then there's Roquefort, who throws out little tornadoes during his fight and tries to send Chai flying with his Big Bad Wolf attack several times. That move also requires Korsica specifically to hold it back with her own wind gust. Yeah, not much to say here.

2. Connection to a Vandelay Sibling:

See, this is the point that really got the gears turning in my head. Both of them have a close connection to a Vandelay sibling who saved their lives: Roquefort to Kale, and Korsica to Peppermint.

"I was on my deathbed when Kale saved me. I was smart, but weak. He fixed that." - Roquefort

"Your wound was really bad...We didn't have a choice." - Peppermint "You... saved my life." - Korsica

Not to say Peppermint saved Korsica single-handedly (shout out to Mac and CNMN, the true mvps), but then again, I doubt Kale painstakingly upgraded Roquefort's body piece by piece on his own, so my point still stands. Both Vandelay siblings had a hand in saving their lives respectively, and because of that, you can see the bonds formed between these two duos.

Peppermint tries to be welcoming and reassuring to Korsica when she first comes to after Kale's murder attempt, and Korsica returns that reassurance later on in Mimosa's level. She hasn't even been with the gang for a full mission yet, is probably still getting used to these changes, and she still tries to comfort Peppermint, especially during her "Kale's my brother" reveal.

Not to mention, during the optional conversations in Roquefort's office before you face Kale, Korsica's dialogue is slightly different in terms of topic. Everyone has something to say regarding their own specific character arcs and motivations, but part of Korsica's dialogue is specifically her worrying about Peppermint.

"But I'm a bit worried about Peppermint. This is personal for her." - Korsica "After all we've been through, it might not be easy... but I think she can handle it." - Chai "You might be right about that, but we need to be there for her when she needs it." - Korsica

Now going back to Kale and Roquefort, while their interactions are brief, you can tell that both of them have at least some respect for each other, which is a hell of a lot more than they give to most of the other Department Heads. Especially Kale.

"Zanzo, Stop. Just stop. Even you jumped the shark on this one. IN THE EYE? What the shit?" - Kale to Zanzo (via SPECTRA Hub vlog) "Only one of of four, Korsica? That's not a passing grade." - Kale to Korsica "It better! No slip-ups! And no defects." - Kale to Mimosa and Rekka Versus...

"Why not? I want to see just how angry you can get, if those punks make it in here." - Kale to Roquefort Sure, Kale still lashes out at him, he's not nice all of a sudden, but it feels like such a massive difference. Kale questions why he ever hired Zanzo, he tried to straight up KILL Korsica, and he's harsh enough to Mimosa and Rekka to the point that they flinch. Hell, REKKA of all people flinches twice. But here? Kale trusts Roquefort to handle things, even if he is a bit dismissive with the "you're just a number cruncher" line.

And on the other side of things, Roquefort is not only loyal to Kale, but surprisingly calm and casual around him. Casual enough to correct him and talk back.

"We...shut down the cafe." - Roquefort "When I said close the campus down, I didn't mean THE CAFE!" - Kale "You said close down everything." - Roquefort

The casual tone of voice is palpable. I genuinely think that's the least angry we see Roquefort, except maybe during the Boss Zoom meeting.

And if you want to go the shipping route, yes, shout out to my lesbians, not much to prove there, but... Hey Kale, do you want to explain why you, a confirmed dog person, gave Roquefort a robotic wolf fursuit? YOU WANNA EXPLAIN THAT??? HUH???

3. Similar Personalities:

They're cold, they're direct, and they're aggressive, and despite their rare goofy moments, I feel comfortable saying they're the most serious of the Department Heads.

Excluding the visual aspects (because this point would be null and void thanks to Roquefort fursuit), these two are by far the least hammy of the bosses. Unlike the others, who provide witty banter, plenty of cheesy lines and over-dramatic reactions, the dialogue for these two is rarely comedic or high-energy.

Here's some examples for comparison:

"I like defects. I like how they taste." - QA-1MIL

"So let's get ready to crumble!" - Rekka

Do I even need an example for Zanzo?

"Let's raise the stakes, and turn down the lights!" - Mimosa

"You've had a few hits, but I think it's time we break up the band." - Kale

Compare that to...

"Caught you off guard." - Korsica "I'll make sure you stay down this time!" - Korsica "You cocky LOSER!" - Korsica

"You sure made an entrance, lad. If you've come for me... I'd walk away." - Roquefort "Where's your confidence now, kid?" - Roquefort "I put my stock in futures, but not yours, kid." - Roquefort

The other bosses are willing to taunt and even go along with Chai's goofiness, but these two? Oh, they don't have much time for that. They barely hesitate, and are not holding back in the slightest. Korsica fucking yeets him down a slope, puts him in a headlock, knocks him out, does whatever she can to hold him back from getting to her office, and only pauses briefly to gaze upon his stupidity before whipping her batons out when he busts in. Even after she gets knocked out and sustains, like, 3 different flavors of concussion(5 if you count Chai and the vent hitting her), she gets RIGHT BACK UP! In a way, Roquefort is a bit more lenient, letting Chai into his office once he gets that far... but the "I'm not fucking around" energy is still there. He's like "Oh, you're really that determined? I respect it. Come at me, kid, I'm not fucking scared." And then he proceeds to back that up. He doesn't even bother attacking Chai with his regular form at first (or at all, frankly), he goes from 0 to 100 and refuses to fall somewhere in the middle. And finally, there's one similarity between them personality-wise that gets its own section, that being how...

4. They're Fueled by Anger:

Basically every boss is aggressive in some way, throwing all kinds of things at Chai as he consistently grinds their 30 day chips from anger management to dust, but here's the thing... When I say "fueled by anger", I mean health-wise. These two heal themselves on-screen because of their anger. With Roquefort, this is pretty well established. He constantly says that all Chai is doing is making him angrier, and that so long as he's mad, he won't be stopped, to the point that thousands of pounds of gold getting the drop on him was the only thing that could take him down. During the verse/phase changes, you can see his health bar quickly refill itself each time, and his wolf form model viewer description wraps this all up in a nice, neat little bow with this line: "Powered by Roquefort's own anger, attacking it will only make it more aggressive and powerful." Now, getting to Korsica... I'll only say this one thing. Can we just acknowledge she went from THIS:

TO THIS:

ALL BECAUSE CHAI CALLED HER OBLIVIOUS??? SHE'S OUT FOR BLOOD, SHE WANTS THAT TWINK OBLITERATED. "That's it! Now I'm mad!" - Korsica Anger Management? More like Angry Management, am I right?

5. Chai is Out of his Element:

*Holds Chai up by the scarf* Get his ass, you two (I say this affectionately)

Yeah, Chai is severely out of his element with both of them. These two fights are especially humbling for him, albeit for opposite reasons. Korsica is the one boss Chai can't just run in and beat the crap out of, so we see him struggle a lot as he constantly rolls nat 1s on charisma. He and the gang go through, like, three different plans in the span of the whole boss fight; first going with Peppermint's plan to state the facts and stay cool, followed by Chai's plan of trying to tire her out until she's willing to listen, and finally ending with "Fuck it, let's just kidnap her, we'll work on a plan D later". And to top it all off, Korsica throws an entire new addition to the parry mechanic at Chai in the middle of all of this, and he just has to keep rolling with it. For Roquefort's fight, I think it's pretty clear that Chai is TERRIFIED of him. He goes in all cocky and confident, thinking Roquefort's a pushover, and gets humbled QUICK when Roquefort reveals his true nature. You only very briefly see his confident attitude resurface during this fight, like when he knocks Roquefort through the glass pane to his money vault. Otherwise, he's either terrified or exhausted, especially at the end, gritting his teeth and getting ready to keep fighting because he has no other option. Not to mention the others are constantly reassuring and being protective of Chai during the fight via their call-in dialogue. Chai is straight up NOT having a good time. At least he got an unintentional nap after Korsica's fight, dude needs a rest after dealing with Roquefort. Where's SMIDGE when you need him, dude needs an energy drink, stat.

6. Boss Music:

Okay so I am NOT well-versed in musical vocabulary so like... bear with me on this. Hopefully this is coherent. Anyways, Negotiation and The Fizzith just... have the same vibe to me. Yes, I'm mostly focusing on The Fizzith, I believe in Streamer Mode Supremacy. First of all, I guess I can start off by saying that they're the only bosses with pure instrumentals for their tracks, with everyone else having lyrics in theirs. Second of all, both of their song formats just sound so... similar to me? Idk how to describe it, but like... They both start with a dramatic build up as they instill the fear of God in Chai, with Roquefort having that iconic classical music "DUN DUN DUN DUUUUUN" intro and Korsica having a shorter, but still just as powerful, build up as she jumps up and whips her batons out. This is then followed by, like, a slightly softer and steadier follow up as it proceeds with the rest of the intro cutscene, as Roquefort leaps over Chai and Korsica turns down Chai's offer to talk. Then the tension gradually grows as the fight goes on, with each phase adding another instrument or two to make things more intense. The Fizzith is already a lot more intense than Negotiation at the start, but you can still hear the build up with each phase for both. And then finally, there's a small "calm before the storm" section, aka where Chai almost talks Korsica down, and when Roquefort is amping up for his final Big Bad Wolf attack. Roquefort's goes back to a steady sort of beat for a moment, while Korsica's has that quiet clapping and softened tone. This is then followed by an intense, deep, high-energy climax as Korsica starts throwing everything she has at you, and as Roquefort sends this lengthy tornado sound-wave barrage at you. While this format is by no means an original one (hell, I noticed a lot of this in Mimosa's fight too), there's just something about their music that just... feels interconnected to me. Like, if I had to sit down and imagine any other boss having a parry-based boss fight like Korsica's, just going by their boss fight music, I'd go for Roquefort (with Mimosa as a close second). And genuinely, I have actually sat down and imagined it, and it's almost perfect. I'm connecting the two dots, motherfuckers (I'm not connecting shit) I'M CONNECTING THEM-

7. Control Over Security:

And with that, we're now arriving at the much smaller points that I don't have as much to discuss about. So I don't really need to say much about Korsica during this section, for obvious reasons. But as for Roquefort, he IS the one who takes over once Korsica's out of the picture and shit starts to hit the fan. "Kale, I prioritized shielding the tower. Reallocated the budget so not a bug will get in." - Roquefort And both of them are damn good at holding Chai and the others back. Korsica takes 3 whole stages to get to her, keeping you on your toes the whole time with lasers, brakes, and enemies galore. I imagine it would've been difficult as hell to get into the Security Department in the first place if Chai didn't get knocked out and held for questioning. And while his segment is pretty short, all things considered, Roquefort gives it his all to shield Vandelay Tower, locking it down so well that even the smartest members of the TEA-m are stumped. Chai's the only one with an idea, and even that had several hurdles. The second they started connecting to the cannon to launch Chai, security comes rushing in, and he probably would've gotten caged in if SMIDGE didn't unintentionally hold the door open for him. Let's also not forget the big-screened wanted posters, the whole Invaders Must Die cafeteria fight, and that one specific fucking bird that threw Chai around like a hacky sack. THEY. WANT. THIS. TWINK. OBLITERATED.

8. Their Affection Towards Cats:

Korsica has a folder on her computer labeled "CAT Gifs", and Roquefort fawns over 808 when she uses her Steal the Show ability. I rest my case.

9. Accidental Puns:

Okay, so I would've titled this "both like puns", but the jury's still out on Korsica in my opinion. Yeah, Chai says she's lying about hating puns, but to me, she seems like she's... on the fence of liking them. Like, she's hesitantly annoyed by them. But I CAN say that they've both accidentally made a pun. "You think you can strong-arm ME?" - Korsica "Hey, YOU chose to fight-...Wait, you like puns too?" (points at his arm) - Chai "What? No!" - Korsica "Roquefort here. Shut this place down! Protect Finance at all costs! (Heh, I said "costs!") - Roquefort "Ughhhhhhhh." - Peppermint

10. Probably Awakened Something in Players:

It's no wonder how thirsty the fandom is when these two have some of the most charged lines in the game... "You broke my concentration. So how 'bout I break you?" - Korsica "Let's take this somewhere a bit more secure. So we don't disturb the neighbors." - Roquefort Welcome to Hi-Fi Rush, where they appeal to both the "I love the kind of woman who could kick my ass" community and the furry werewolf boyfriend sugar daddy community.

11. Visual/Dialogue Similarities:

Finishing this off is a section dedicated to miscellaneous visual or dialogue similarities that I couldn't fit elsewhere.

(The camera zooms in before I can get a good shot of Korsica actually ON her desk, so standard shot it is.) TOP 10 WAYS TO ENHANCE YOUR LEADERSHIP SKILLS IN THE WORKPLACE #1: Jump onto your desk to establish dominance

Smug little losers...

GET FUCKING YEETED

Man, they even intimidated the camera man, they can't keep it straight.

Spiky, anime-ass hair/fur. Triangular.

Of course they have blue eyes and nails and pronouns (ft. Chai living the dream) Also, speaking of blue... maybe it's because both of theirs glow blue, but some of their cybernetics have the same vibe to me.

Mostly just the chest and the arms (since that's all Korsica's got). Maybe I'm just looking too hard but like... the blue tubes connected to the arms, the glowing chest... Okay, I'm running out of red string for my evidence board, moving on. Anyways, not as much to bring up about remaining dialogue similarities, but I still have a few. "Is that a floating cat? Ugh, nothing about you even makes sense!" - Korsica "The numbers are in... and YOU are OUT!" - Chai "Wow. That makes no sense, you idiot!" - Roquefort Behold Chai's natural ability to deal psychic damage by not making any sense whatsoever. And finally... mission plan dialogue. "Mission report. Just...go up." - Peppermint "Up?" - Chai "Up." - Peppermint "That's it?" - Chai "Looks like Korsica's in her office, and it's on the top floor. Hence, "up"." - Peppermint

"Chai, you're doing it! The Tower is unguarded. We're headed your way." - Korsica "Chai! Roquefort's office is a couple floors above you. Get up there and kick his ass!" - Peppermint When in doubt: go up.

So in conclusion...

[raikantopenis]

Theerapanyakul Foundation Hospital

What would happen if the Theerapanyakuls were a dynasty of doctors instead of criminals? - A silly and self indulgent AU

Korn: cardiac surgeon, transplant specialist. Classic god complex paired with irrealistic expectations for everyone, especially his own children.

Kinn: general surgeon, colorectal surgery specialist. Temperamental, but meticulous. Expects people to read his mind. Fucked (almost) every OR nurse he worked with. He chose a surgical speciality to appease his father, but honestly he would have preferred something less invasive.

Tankhun: Planned to go into cardiac surgery, but avoids contact with patients after a traumatic experience. Works in theoretic medicine. Has unlimited research funds thanks to his family, which he uses to model the pathophysiology of extremely rare diseases in goldfish. There's like a grand total of 5 people around the world who understand his papers. They are actually groundbreaking, just in a very niche area.

Kim: still a singer, gives no fucks.

Vegas: maxillofacial surgeon. Failed to get in medschool on the first try, so he did Dentistry first and then General Medicine. Hardcore. Despite being fucking terrifying, maxillofacial surgery is not as well respected as Kinn's field.

Macau: is not expected to go into medschool. If he had to chose a speciality, he'd like to become an ortho bro.

Porsche: young hotshot paramedic. Thinks he knows better than everyone, and flirts with everything that moves. Very dedicated. Patients love him, doctors hate him. Absolutely no work-life balance.

Chay: is told not to pursue a carreer in healthcare daily by a very tired Porsche Pete: prenatal ICU nurse. Looks and acts adorable. The literal strongest.

Arm: biostatistican of Tankhun. Riddled with the impossible task of turning the weird fish his boss plopped down his desk into coherent data.

Pol: jack of all trades. Has been observed to work in every department, but no one's really sure what his actual role is. (It's committing medical malpractice for Tankhun.)

Big: the only male nurse in the general surgery ward Kinn has not fucked. (Actually, every nurse in the hospital is male, because Kinnporsche) Is vocally planning murder every time he has to register a patient Porsche has brought in, and read the complete bullshit Porsche calls "documentation".

Ken: secretly works shifts at general surgery and maxillofacial surgery as well. Biggest gossip.

Chan: That nurse. Queen of the motherfucking needles. Can create venous access in a geriatric patients with no functioning veins by throwing a canule at him like a darts. His department would probably run smoother if he was in charge and not some stupid doctor.

Tay: anesthesiologist. Highly skilled but prefers to work behind the scenes. Spends most of his day solving crossword puzzles and reading fashion magazines in the OR, while complaining that Kinn takes too long (again), and he'll have to work overtime (again). He is always correct. Saved Kinn's ass multiple times. 

Time: OBGYN. Chronically late. Dismissive attitude. Not only did he fuck every nurse, intern and assistant, he fucked some husbands of his patients as well.

Nampheung: dermatologist. Does not age.

Gun: Failed to get into medschool.