#i think side order will probably take at least a little longer than that though given that they didnt show as much as oe's reveal did

[loveletterworm]

The “significant updates only come like once every few months” thing splatoon is on nowadays is so scary  they said they weren’t planning to update the game until june...Um well earlier i determined through an extremely long series of conjecture  that there might be a decent chance of them starting to post more than 2 sentences about side order in may. so i will attempt to look forward to that until my attention breaks again. This is why i wanted to be a bullshit untrustworthy video game leaker the other day because i thought my guess sounded pretty good

#they had to hype up this splatfest a lot because they added new music to go with the inkopolis dlc and had to reveal it #and then presumably in late april there'll be the first eggstra work event that they'll have to talk about #but then in may the news will just be a standard splatfest with presumably no other significant surrounding event #so the space in their news cycle will probably be freed to just post a screenshot and go Hey look at this octopus #the time between february and may is also about the same time between march and june #which would make it be about the same time it took for oe to come out after it was revealed #i think side order will probably take at least a little longer than that though given that they didnt show as much as oe's reveal did #to come out i mean. i think it would be reasonable if they started saying slightly more by that point is what im trying to say #and that's my extremely long series of conjecture. Thank you (<-- Criminally insane) #mypost #splt

[jaylver]

PINKY RING — S.JY

synopsis: setting up a deal with a frat boy you've just met at a party turned out to be a stupidly cute idea. who knew his drake reference and the deal involving his pinky ring would soon score him a date with you.

pairings: frat boy!jake x afab!reader

genre: strangers to lovers, frat boy + football player jake, college au, romance, fluff

warning(s): profanities, party, alcohol

wc: 2.9k

a/n: a very late contribution to jakeday! this was much longer than planned so i hope you all enjoy it! apologies in advance if the writing sucks since i've been tired all week T-T please leave a feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated! muah xx

masterlist | © jaylver all rights reserved.

Wandering into a frat party alone was quite literally the least sane thing you've done in a while.

Your best friend, Yunjin, had called you up to meet her at a frat party at the most random hour of the night. The temptation got to you for the worst as you caved in and placed aside your studies in order to get some free booze, even if they're low budget ones.

That only explained why you were there then. Looking between your phone and the sight before you as you walked, trying to get a hold of your friend. She was probably somewhere wasted and you wouldn't be surprised if it was true. 

Once you sent her a text announcing your arrival and hoping for a text back, you slipped your phone away and wandered into the kitchen area, further from the crowded area filled with people dancing quite scandalously.

Whatever dodgy concoction they had prepared there, you took some and sniffed it before taking a sip, shrugging in half approval. You'd take what you have. Soon, you settled yourself in by leaning against the counter, pulling out your phone as it had started buzzing.

You were distracted by the chiming of your phone, realising Yunjin texted back and you immediately replied back. She was, in fact, somewhere in the house, except she was with a guy. Wait, a frat boy, Jay Park? Oh, you've heard of him. 

You didn't want to say much and just texted her back to call you when it's time to leave, or if she's even leaving at all. Meanwhile, you were unaware of the additional presence who had wandered into the kitchen as you typed out your last text.

“Oh—hey,” 

You glanced up from your phone the moment you pressed 'send', staring back at a guy that you swore you've seen somewhere before, he was too familiar. He wasn't just a guy though, he was a hot one. Backwards cap on, dressed in a casual black hoodie and ripped jeans, dyed blond hair peeking out from his cap. 

That was a sight to see. 

“Hey,” you could tell he wasn't expecting your presence in the kitchen just the same as you were.

The corner of his lips twitched, head tilted to one side. “New around here? I think this is the first time I've seen you at our party,”

Our? Was he a part of the frat?

“I don't usually wander into frat parties,” you shrugged, and he nodded, smiling. 

“I'm Jake, by the way. Jake Sim. I'm a part of the frat, we usually have these types of parties on the weekend,” he extended his hand out for a handshake, to which you accepted, staring a little too longingly at his pretty hands and fingers. Don’t be a creep. 

“Am I missing out? I'm Y/N L/N,”

“Well, Y/N, maybe you are,” an apparent accent flowed from his voice, and the way he said your name shouldn't have made you scream inside. “You should come by more often, I'd love to see more of you here,”

“We'll see. I wasn't even meant to be here, but my friend called and I thought ‘why not’ so here I am,”

“It's fated, then. We're meant to meet,” he clapped, lips stretched into a cheery smile that had you swooning.

“I suppose it is,” you let him join your side in leaning against the counter, feeling the fabric of his hoodie brushing against your bare skin. “You know, you look very familiar to me, I think I've seen you before,”

“Yeah?” His tongue swept across his bottom lip, eyebrow quirking with interest.

“Football team. It's you, isn't it? The striker,”

“How did you know?” He seemed genuinely surprised, and you were in disbelief as well. He was much different compared to what you remembered.

“My friend's on the team too, Kim Sunoo,”

“Him!"

“Yes, him! I went to one of the matches and you scored in it, it was a great match," you could still recall the faint memory of Jake scoring, his name blasting from the speakers, back when his hair was coloured black.

“Wow,” Jake stared in amazement, his smile never wavered, only widening. “We're much connected than I thought,”

“We are,” you couldn't help smiling as well, finding his energy contagious and severely intoxicating. You had to turn around and take a sip of your drink as a way to not become flustered around him, but only to notice the rings resting on his fingers.

“Nice rings,” you complimented, and it seemed to be his turn to become flustered. Immediately bringing his hands up for you to look closer and showcasing his rings.

“Thanks,” he said, sounding pleased.

“You have a pinky ring too?” You pointed at his pinky, noticing the silver ring gleaming under the light.

“Pinky ring till I get a wedding ring,”

It didn't hit you until a beat later. He was quoting Drake. 

“Drake? Seriously?” A teasing grin travelled to your lips, nudging him slightly ever so naturally. He didn't complain, just reciprocated your smile, seemingly glad that you caught onto his reference.

“Hey, I'm a big fan. Sue me,”

“No judgement, I like Drake too,” you spoke your half truth, shrugging lightly.

Jake turned to look at you, a light sparkling in his eyes, telling you he had something in mind. “Hey, why don't I give you my pinky ring, and the next time we meet, you give it back to me?”

“What?”

“Let fate decide our next meeting. If we bump into each other again, you hand me back my ring, and I'll get your number. Deal?”

“Sounds good,” why were you doing this?

Even as your consciousness was telling you what stupid idea this was, you couldn’t help but feel confident. There was definitely a next time. You were sure of it. Even after Jake slipped his ring onto your pinky, feeling his skin graze against yours, you were confident that fate would bring you to him, or even him to you.

You bid him a small goodbye, watching his bright energy disappear through the door and be left with yourself, wanting him to come back. Did Yunjin and you somehow suddenly share the same taste in men? Frat boys?

Soon, you abandoned your drink and walked out of the kitchen into the party scene. To your relief, you spotted Yunjin waving at you, a tall boy with silver hair standing right beside her. That was probably Jay.

“Oh my God, I thought I lost you,” she engulfed you into one of her warm hugs while you didn't miss the lovesick smile she always had whenever she was around a crush.

“I would say the same for you,” you nudged her slightly, eyeing her romeo of the night.

“Oh—Jay, this is my best friend, Y/N. Y/N, this is Jay,” Yunjin introduced, and Jay gave you a friendly hug as a greeting. Off the bat, you could tell he was a decent guy despite being in a frat.

“You're not joining your friends for beer pong?” Yunjin pointed out to Jay and you took notice of said beer pong going on across the room. 

There he was. Jake. Standing out amongst the bunch of guys that were most likely his friends, catching your attention in an instant. His baseball cap was no longer worn backwards, sleeves rolled up and showcasing the protruding veins decorating the expanse of his arm. He was holding onto a ping pong ball, aiming at one of the red shot cups and eventually shot it in successfully, letting out a loud laugh while throwing his arms up into a flexing pose and hitting his chest.

What a frat boy. But you think he's a cute frat boy. He was an exception.

“Should we leave soon?” Yunjin had to poke your shoulder to gain your attention back to her. At that realisation, you visibly flushed a tinge of pink, coughing and nodding rather stiffly. You could tell your best friend was suspicious of you, but didn’t press on and told you Jay was dropping you two off.

What you didn’t catch onto as you left the room was Jake’s lingering gaze on you. 

He was going to get his ring back. He was confident about it.

“You’re telling me you’re missing Jay’s friend?”

“I am doing exactly that,”

He wasn’t just Jay’s friend, he was also his frat brother. Yet, Jay was oblivious you two knew each other, or at least that’s what you think in your perspective. 

Telling Yunjin about your happenings from that party was both a good and bad decision. The good part was that she was happy for you. The bad part was realising how predictable you were. In her words, she knew you would fall for Jake especially since you had a weak spot for men with cute smiles. Dammit.

It has been a week since that night at the frat house. To be honest, you could be crazy and just go back to find Jake, but were you going to chase a man like that? No, wake up! But, you were also shamelessly missing him and mulling over the fact that the ring was still on your pinky. 

“This is so stupid, why is he waiting on fate to act?”

“I think it’s cute,”

“You’re hopeless,” Yunjin rolled her eyes, but you just laughed, because you, too, knew it was dumb. A stupid game that tortured you but you enjoyed the anticipation as well. “Anyway, Jay’s going to a football match later in the evening, apparently the team is playing. Before you say no, consider this, he’s paying for dinner after,”

“I like him,” you gave her your seal of approval, and from the looks of her giddy smile, she was satisfied. 

Yunjin was more than happy when she led you through the stands, locating where Jay was sitting. You threw a knowing glance at her, to which she noticed and only rolled her eyes. He greeted you with a friendly smile, saving an even brighter smile for your best friend. It was sickening, but in an affectionate way. 

Realising how you were third wheeling, you took the queue and left, wandering down the stands to get a closer look at the field. You figured that'd be a better idea now that you realised the team was warming up there.

“Y/N!” you were barely halfway down the stairs when you heard your name being called, a familiar face running towards you. 

“Jake!” You jogged a little, reaching the barrier that separated the stands and the field, essentially separating you and Jake as well.

“You're here! At a football game,” he breathed out in a daze, as if he couldn't believe you were standing in front of him.

“Jay brought me and Yunjin here,” you slyly pointed at the duo that sat further up the stands, meeting Jake's playful smirk. You two had the same thought in mind. “Oh right—pinky ring,”

You raised up your right hand, his ring still wrapped around your pinky. At that, Jake's eyes only lit up, flickering between your face and the ring, his smile growing wider.

“You wear it everywhere?”

A rush of heat spread across your cheeks, you found yourself shying away from his gaze. “I didn't know where I'd find you,”

“Guess you finally found me, and I found you too,”

“I'm glad,” you fidgeted the ring mindlessly, looking between it and Jake before you realised the deal. "Should I hand it back to you first?”

“No—wait—maybe after the game?” His indecisiveness was killing him, and having you standing in front of him, it made him extra jittery, he was grateful the barriers were there. “I have a feeling you wearing it will somehow pass on good luck to me,”

Your eyebrows furrowed, a smile pulling at your lips. “Don't know how that works, but I'll do whatever you say,”

“It's true! It's called intuition. I'll win the game and score a goal,” he said ever so confidently, a grin that was challenging your doubts. 

“I believe you,” you said in between giggles, unaware of Jake's smile growing wider as he watched you laugh. “Go and win this one like you always do,”

“I will! Meet me after the game! Get your number and the ring ready,” he casted a wink at you, waving a small momentary goodbye before joining his team back in warming up. 

You eventually joined the two lovebirds and waited for the game to start, a certain feeling of giddiness bubbling in your abdomen. When it was finally time, you watched intently as the referee blew the whistle and the home team began the game. The number five on his back was easy to detect, your eyes followed it the whole time as he ran past defenders and scored a goal.

You and your friends jumped out of your seats in excitement. Yelling and cheering the moment you heard his name being blasted from the speakers. He did prove you right, he scored a goal. The next thing you knew before you could even process it was him pointing up at you. It was clearly directly at you, no mistake at all. As cliche it could get, he sent you a flying kiss, and you only matched his energy, catching it and laughing like some school girl.

He was soon tackled by his teammates and whisked away to resume the game. You were left in the stands smiling like a fool, unable to hide your happiness and blushing cheeks even though people around you had witnessed it whole, including your own friends. But who cares, right?

The game ended with the home team winning and obviously, everyone was in great spirits after. You told Yunjin that you’re finding Jake first, and as she left with Jay, you swore you heard him asking ‘since when did they know each other?’ 

Heading down the stands, you spotted Jake immediately. The team was still lingering around the field, but the second Jake’s eyes landed on you, he excused himself and ran towards you. The widest smile was present on his face, he was shining brightly under the dark skies. 

“Hey!” he pulled you in a hug, reaching over the barrier for you. He was sweaty, but you didn’t mind it. It was his presence and tight hold that you focused on.

“Congrats on the win! You did great,” you said as you pulled away, reciprocating his smile. 

“Thank you. It’s nothing,”

“Okay, you scoring a goal is not ‘nothing’,”  

“But I was right, wasn’t I?”

You rolled your eyes at him, hating that he wasn’t entirely wrong. “Whatever,” you said dismissively, earning a light laugh from him. You took the chance to slip the ring off your pinky, taking his hand in yours, instantly surprising him since it was a totally unexpected move. “Your pinky ring, as promised,”

“Oh, almost forgot,” he let you slip the ring back to the original spot, feeling your touch on his skin and reeling from your close proximity. 

“As for my number … I’ll give it to you once you’re done, I don’t have anything to write on,” you waved your phone in hand, casting him an apologetic smile.

“It’s totally fine. Will you be willing to wait?”

“I’m alright with it. I thought you’re joining us for dinner?”

“Right, Jay told me,” he snapped his fingers, recalling his friend’s text message. How could he have forgotten? He almost asked you out for dinner later as a date. 

“He’s paying,”

“Sweet,” he basically hollered, punching the air stiffly and you laughed at his demeanour. He’s so weird, but in a cute way.

Jake was biting on his lips once a short silence settled between you two. You could tell he was pondering and thinking about his next words. That sweet smile returned back to his lips. “Can I take you out for dinner soon?”

How could you say no?

“I’m down. Definitely yes,”

Jake almost looked relieved, but there was also a sparkle that you saw in his eyes that shined brightly once you’ve given him your answer. You could feel your own heart swelling at the sight of him. His gaze held everything he needed to say. He stared at you with a kind of longing and pining that you couldn’t pinpoint. 

“Great, fantastic,” Jake whispered under his breath, seemingly in disbelief and his dazed look only made you giggle. “I’ll catch up with you after I shower, give me some time and wait for me!”

“I will! The three of us will wait for you so go wash up,”

“Alright, alright,” he threw his hands up in surrender, hesitant to walk away as he wished to talk to you more, but he stank and was covered with sweat, so he didn’t have much choice. 

“Wait for me!” he said, slowly inching away with the silliest grin, eyes crinkling at the edges. 

You responded by gesturing your thumbs up, watching as he turned his back on you, but not even a second later he turned his head back, a small smile still remained. He then started jogging towards the benches, and you definitely didn’t miss his excited jump. 

How were you supposed to survive that dinner date with an endearing, sweet and cute guy like him? 

The truth was, you weren’t.

( © jaylver all rights reserved. do NOT copy, plagiarise or edit my work and repost whatsoever. once discovered will be exposed and blacklisted. )

☆ permanent taglist (open):

@silentkarnival @strvlveera @freshsaladbowl @bejewelledgirl @fakeuwus @yenqa @hsgwrld @ilovegyuvin @enhacatalog @aishigrey @shinrjj @kgneptun

#enhypen #enhypen scenarios #enhypen imagines #enhypen fluff #enhypen fanfics #enhypen fanfic #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen oneshots #enhypen drabbles #enhypen x reader #enhypen x y/n #enhypen angst #enhypen jake #enhypen jake imagines #enhypen jake sim #enhypen jake x reader #jake sim #jake sim imagines #jake sim drabbles #jake sim x reader #jake x reader #jake imagines #sim jaeyun #sim jaeyun x reader #enhypen headcanons #jake fluff #jake fanfic #jake oneshot #jake sim fluff #enhypen blurbs

[xxmrs-waynexx]

Young Again

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x wife!reader (batmom)

Warnings: Fluff, comfort, Bruce is slightly OOC but it's for the plot.

Ever since Bruce came back from his latest mission, you tried your best to help him relax. He was always on edge and very clearly tense. This man was not doing okay this time around and it was stressing you out too. No matter how hard you tried, all the noises, movement, and whatever else happening in the manor was just too much for him. You assumed that whatever had happened with Scarecrow must’ve had something to do with fear toxin. 

So, you confided in Alfred. Who else would know your husband better than yourself? The two of you sat outside drinking tea and chatting.

“I just don’t know what else to do. He can’t stay in the cave all day planning and checking every news source for trouble, but he also isn’t able to help with the chaos of all the kids,” you explained.

Alfred thought for a moment before sighing, “Why don’t you two stay home tomorrow? I will go out with the young ones and be back by dinner time.” The older man gave you a kind and reassuring smile. “He will be back to himself before we know it. I have learned that sometimes the best way to make any progress is to take a break. Especially for master Bruce.”

And so you did. The next morning, you were sure to let Bruce sleep in. You didn’t mind being held for a bit longer than usual. By lunchtime, you two had finally pulled yourselves out of bed. It had been months since you’d last cooked. Usually, you helped Alfred but being on the PTA for your kids’ school was getting very busy as it neared winter break.

Cooking was something you used to do with Bruce in college. It used to be a fun bonding activity for you two in the communal kitchen in your dorm building. You’d avoided asking him if he wanted to since you knew he had a lifetime ban, courtesy of Alfred.

As you looked in the pantry, Bruce came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. “I just had the greatest idea on earth,” he mumbled in his deep, sleepy voice.

“Listen, if this is about your plan for Penguin, I already told you that it was good and that-”

“No,” he chuckled softly. “I think we should cook dinner for the family. They’ve probably had a long day and it’s the least we can do.”

His smile is what made you agree. You knew the reasoning was far beyond what he said. He wanted to relive the ‘good old days.’ And if Alfred wasn’t home to tell him no?

____

The kitchen was an absolute disaster. Dishes and ingredients were scattered all over the countertops. You did your best to help keep things in order, but you did have a little enjoyment for the chaos. Your combined laughter filled the kitchen and it was like you two were young and new to each other again.

“Okay, Bruce, now the flour. Not too much. Just use what’s left of the bag in there,” you said, back turned to his figure looking into the pantry.

“There’s just the unopened sack,” he said gruffly, pulling it out of the pantry and slamming it on the counter.

“...Alfred would buy the biggest bag known to man,” you let out a soft chuckle. However, upon turning around, you saw that perhaps slamming a bag of flour onto the counter was not quite the best idea. “Bruce!” Your eyes were wide with both amusement and shock.

Bruce stood in front of you, eyes squeezed shut, covered in flour. “I didn’t think-”

“No, you didn’t,” you laughed. You grabbed a wet cloth and began wiping off his face.

He wrapped his arms around you and you screamed, “NO! Bruce!” 

He chased you around the kitchen with flour in his hands, ready to throw when close enough. “Why do you get to stay clean and I don’t?” He asked, grinning like a madman. This was done with the same amount of energy as your yearly snowball fights- though usually you were on his side.

Once you realized the kitchen was too small to stay away from him, you bolted to the family room. “Bruce! Stop!” your laughs clouded your shouts. “You’re crazy!”

“Yeah?” he stalked you through the living room, the flour in his hands getting everywhere.

“Alfred is going to kill us- No, you,” you laughed.

“Who cares? It was fun. I feel young again,” he told you finally reaching you. He had you cornered between a bust of who-knows-who-that-guy-was and the wall.

Dinner was going to be fun.

#dc imagine #dc #dc comics #dc fanfic #batman #batman fandom #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x wife!reader #batman x reader

[runa-falls]

scratches and bites - 2

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Reader

Warnings: Could be a little off-canon for some characters, lots of plot, slight angst, Miguel is an helicopter mom, reader just wants some friends :(

a/n: ok. i didn't realize how much i wanted to put into this chapter so spicy stuff is coming NEXT chapter. promith. i've already written some of it. anyway, i'm glad y'all are enjoying my O'Hara content. I hope this lives up to your expectations lmfao

Summary: Miguel O'Hara is a grumpy man and you make him grumpy. You regularly go against his orders, create chaos, and invite danger. This is what you've been doing since he swept you away.

w/c: 2.2k

series masterlist | main masterlist

----

So being “Spider-Woman” turned out to be harder than you thought. It’s not all swinging from and shooting webs like you imagined. Apparently, there’s a spider-specific physical regimen you’re required to keep up with. Every day. 

You’re almost convinced that you’re being hazed into the spider-verse community because you are yet to see anyone else doing upside-down web squats on a 100-story building. Not to mention the life-threatening training simulations you were thrown into as soon as you arrived in Nueva York. 

“They can’t hurt you, Kid. They’re holograms.” 

“Yeah, that’s what they want you to think O’Hara, but my ass has been kicked enough to prove differently.”

“Alright, well they can’t kill you.”

Miguel has been “training” you for the last few months to become the best Spider-Woman you can be, pushing you harder than you’ve ever been pushed before. Though these days, this “training” is actually just him telling Parker to drill you in whatever he thinks will work. 

O’Hara attempted to do it himself for like three days, and it turns out he’s too impatient to take in a spider apprentice or even be in a room where you do anything but exactly what he commands. 

You should’ve expected it. 

Sure, Miguel is a naturally grumpy man, but you swear he has it out for you. He literally tenses whenever you enter the room and makes sure to barely meet your eyes when he’s forced to talk to you.

Actually, ever since you were dropped in the middle of Spider-Central, O’Hara has been ignoring you. Treating you like the plague. Always making the excuse that he’s too busy with things that are far more important than anything you’d ever have to say. As if he wasn’t the one who forced you to come with him in the first place…

It’s not fair. He was literally all you had. 

Months ago, he showed you a side of him, the one that convinced you that he actually brought you here for a reason, but now he can’t even look at you. Sure, you’re a particularly slow learner, and one that never really liked PE, but you deserve some slack. You left everything for him – for them. 

Meeting people who’ve gone through similar circumstances as you was quite interesting, to say the least. And it doesn’t stop at people either. Spider cars, dinosaurs, and cats were just the beginning. 

You’ve made a few friends. There’s Gwen, a 15 (or was it 16?) -year-old who mostly talks about her friend Miles, music, and…uh, Miles. It’s sweet how she gushes on about some guy without fully realizing how into him she is. Miles sounds great, really great, but you’ll probably never get to meet him because of the number of restrictions placed on your watch. Fucking O’Hara and his parental controls. 

Gwen is cool, she plays the drums and can do a bunch of acrobatic things that you’d never even attempt, but she’s also almost a half-decade younger than you. There’s only so much you can talk about before you start getting homesick. Of course, despite her young age, she’s still given more responsibilities and missions than you. If Miguel has one hobby, it would be undermining everything you do. 

“She’s been in the game longer than you have.” He always makes that excuse. 

And you always counter it with: “But I’m older! I can do more than just scream for help!”

“This isn’t a discussion.” That honestly might be his favorite phrase to shut you up these days. “You’ll be called on when you’re ready, Kid.” And that. 

“I am ready. And stop calling me that. I’m not a kid, I’m 20 years old!”

“Yeah, whatever.”

There’s also Peter Parker, your reluctant coach. He’s…something else. Sure, he’s your friend, but he’s more like a substitute teacher and crazy uncle type of guy. Usually, he listens to everything Miguel says, acting like a glorified babysitter, but sometimes, he’s up to bend the rules on some things.

Once he let you visit his dimension, claiming you’d need some real-life experience as a “friendly-neighborhood spider-woman”. You spent that day chasing down petty robbers and helping old ladies cross the road. Sure, it was a small field trip, but that was only the third dimension you’d traveled to at the time. 

Parker is also always trying to get you to hold his daughter whenever she comes to work claiming that “it’ll be good for your mental health, trust me.” Of course, for Parker, every day is “bring-your-kid-to-train-the-new-spider-woman-day”. And really, you don’t mind holding her, but not when you’re in the middle of sparing 5 of Doc Ocks tentacles. 

The baby is adorable, but you do worry about how she crawls up the walls. Parker doesn’t seem fazed. Actually, neither does O’Hara. 

Sometimes you wonder if O’Hara wants kids one day. He certainly handles Mayday like a pro, letting her crawl over his shoulders and paperwork. Would he possibl– No, actually, it doesn’t matter. It shouldn’t matter, because he left you. He’s not – couldn’t even be an option. – Anyway…

Parker and Mayday are nice company and the only real constants in your life, but you really just want to be a consistent part of the team. You don’t know how much longer you can spend your days doing swinging drills and spider crunches (don’t even ask). But Parker has actually been your rock these past months, to give him credit. He’s one of the few people that makes you feel like you belonged in this distorted array of spiders and dimensions.

Then there’s Hobie. 

The first time you met him you probably had literal stars in your eyes. Donned with a spiked vest and several facial piercings, he caught your attention right away. He catches everyone’s attention. Even his suit is cooler than everyone else’s with a spiked mohawk that surely gets in the way.

Unfortunately, just as you were hoping to take on the Brit as your mentor for all things spider, he was decidedly off-limits, courtesy of O’Hara. Apparently, his rebellious nature and brash energy make him a “bad influence”. 

“Seriously? You should be glad that I’m taking a bigger interest in my training.” You have your hands posted up on your hips, trying to make yourself look bigger than you actually are. Damn, O’Hara and his domineering presence!

He rolls his eyes openly, genuinely already done with the conversation. “Yeah…your ‘training,’ sure.” 

“What is that supposed to mean!” You practically whine it out.

“Don’t get distracted gatita, just do as you’re told.”

“Ok, what does that mean? I don’t speak Italian.”

“That was Spanish dumbass.”

Of course, that doesn’t stop you from hanging out with him anyway (though he’s not around as much anymore). Who knew making friends as Spider-Person would be so hard. You’d think you’d have a lot in common with everyone around you, but really, you’re all alone. Sometimes you think the spiders actually resent you deep down because you’re the only one that has never lost anything. Or had anything to lose in the first place. 

For now, you’re just moving through a sea of spiders, trying to catch a glimpse of what you’re supposed to be doing here. Trying to figure out why you were chosen over the infinite other versions of you in the multiverse.

—

So far you’ve been on 2 and a half missions. The half was when you were forcibly sent home and effectively grounded for a week. Apparently, talking to civilians while standing guard is prohibited, even when they’re selling dip’n’dots. What? It was a long ass mission. And it was hot! 

This one is your official third mission. It’s quite simple, in theory. Just travel to Earth-275A, infiltrate a tech lab, pick up some – worryingly volatile – equipment, and go home. Easy. 

Except, it didn’t exactly go that way. 

It’s just you, Miguel, Gwen, and Jess on this mission. You and Jess were placed on lookout duty (you on the roof and Jess on the ground with her bike), while Miguel and Gwen broke in and out of the building. It was all running smoothly, each spider occasionally muttering quietly through the radio whenever their positionings changed. Otherwise, it was silent. And frankly, a bit boring. 

You idly kicked around some pebbles that somehow found their way onto the roof of this tall ass building, sometimes smacking them against the half wall separating you from falling a thousand feet downwards. You were actually dying to get back to HQ because you briefly spotted Hobie talking to Parker and Mayday before you had to go. He’s been quite absent lately, and you want to show off some of the new moves you learned this week.

Then, there was suddenly action. 

A huge explosion surges out the right side of the building that O’Hara and Stacy were infiltrating. That mission plan was not kidding when they described the ‘volatility’ of the shit inside of those supply crates. Deep creaking and smashing objects follow the blast. You watch as the tallest building in the city starts to tilt. Shit, the explosion must’ve taken out some of the support beams.

You hear Miguel yelling your name through your earpiece, as well as heavy breathing and crumbling concrete in the background. 

“Y-yes? Copy–”

“You and Gwen collect the crate and get out of here. I already called for a portal. Jess and I will get surrounding civilians away from danger.” 

“Understood, sir.” You don’t usually call him anything like ‘sir’, but the stakes are high and complete compliance is needed at this moment. 

“Crate is located on the top floor, Stacy is already there waiting for my word.” You briefly shake yourself out, mentally preparing yourself to scale the larger building in front of you.

With a quick fwp, you attach your web to the nearly as tall building next to your target to give yourself some leverage. You jump without even giving yourself time to think about it, tugging slightly at the web, making sure to collect as much kinetic energy as possible. You release the web when you get to the highest point and spit out another web to get you to the top floor of the building. Luckily the blast took out the windows so you could easily enter the floor. 

There, Gwen stands next to a crate with several scientists and guards nicely pasted onto the walls with perfectly placed webs on each limb and over their abdomens. 

“Took you long enough.” 

“It’s been 30 seconds!”

“Relax, I’m teasing.” She shoots out a couple of webs and connects them to the crate. “Here, help me out with this.” You follow her movements, pulling at your webs slightly to get a good evaluation of its weight. Surprisingly, it moves quite easily, almost three inches from your soft tug.

“Why’re we both doing this when it weighs 100 lbs. We have super strength.”

“I dunno, Miguel just gave us the orders. There’s probably a reason. It doesn’t really matter.” You frown realizing you could’ve been down there helping O’Hara save actual lives but instead, you were ordered to assist a teenager on a one-person job. “The portal is opening in a few seconds on the roof of the building behind us.” Gwen doesn’t seem phased. “We can just swing it with us.”

“Isn’t this shit going to blow up if we move it too harshly?”

“Not when it’s in this protective crate.” She steps closer to the broken window, mentally measuring and planning out the escape route. “That explosion earlier was from an open container.” You hum, still torn over leaving Gwen to do the delivery so you can help people get out of the way faster. “You ready then?” She’s been watching you. Clearly, your thoughts are painted on your face.

You nod briefly, “Let’s go.” Together you take each side of the crate and use your other arms to swing yourselves over to the portal that magically appears. This time, that odd purring sound of the portal is completely blocked out by the chaos going on around you. Somehow the building has still only tilted a little bit since the explosion. 

As Gwen pushes the crate into the gateway, you look down at the streets, watching as Miguel and Jess work impeccably together as they save hundreds of civilians from falling debris and the inevitable demolition of the building.

Then you look back a Gwen, who’s ready to head home. Then you look down at them again. 

Then your eye catches on a red sedan sheltering a terrified family that sits under the chaos.

Gwen catches your eye. “Don’t.” 

“I have to.” 

“Migu–”

“Would do the same.”

“--Will mur-der me.” You sigh, but quickly shoot a couple of webs downwards without looking. Gwen has her arms folded, sharing that unamused expression that Jess loves to sport. Her feet are now temporarily stuck to the floor. You’re sure she could get out of it in a second, but you can tell, she’s not going to stop you. “Don’t die.”

Right before jumping off the ledge, you send her a cheesy smirk, “Me? Never.”

----

Taglist: @deputy-videogamer @danaeaurelia @reuxxi

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara #spider-man

[schemmentis]

Swing

Prompt: What if reader has a bit of anger issues and Melissa tries and help/calm her.

Warnings: Minor descriptions of violence, anger issues

Word Count: 2.3k

“Sure, Hon.” Melissa answers the man next to her asking if she'd like another drink. Who is she to deny a man willing to pay for it? Even if he is pretty clearly just trying to buy his way into her pants. Until she has to completely shut him down, she'll take the free margaritas.

At least, she is happy to do so until this round. She barely has the cold glass in hand before he's leaning too far into her space. Gently but with no mistaking her force, she presses on his shoulder until his ass hits his own stool. “Not so fast, sweets.” Her tone is warning though she tries to keep some bit of flirtation to it. Hopefully just enough to keep him on the leash so she doesn't have to deal with an angry, drunk man instead.

This is how you met Melissa Schemmenti. She'd been sitting at the bar next to some guy when you found your own seat at the counter, a few stools down. You hadn't paid them much mind. Other than the side eye as you had passed.

You were only human and the redhead's legs were definitely on display in her outfit. You noticed. But you tried to do so respectfully. A glance from the corner of your eye as you passed by and nothing else.

You had glanced their way down the bar top a few times. When the man had drunkenly gotten loud. Though he only ever seemed to be ordering another round, and after a few he was only ordering for the woman. You guessed because he knew he was close to being cut off by the bartender himself. Once or twice it had been because the woman had laughed. A little too forced, a little too loudly. Still, her voice from what little you'd heard was pretty.

Otherwise, you'd kept your attention to your own drink and one of the TVs hung up behind the bar. You weren't here to be social. You were just here for a drink or two, some time to yourself to unwind before going home.

It was difficult though, at this point in the night, to keep your attention to your own bubble. The man had stood, in the corner of your eye, to get the bartender's attention for the latest margarita for the redhead. Then you'd seen, from that same corner of vision, one of the women's hands come up to push at his shoulder. It was then you'd twisted on your stool to properly look down the counter.

The man's volume had risen significantly. It was impossible for you to miss the language and names he was throwing around. Obviously for not getting his way. It wasn't until his hands had gripped at the woman’s hips, attempting to tug her off the stool she sat on, that you couldn't just sit aside any longer.

You'd gotten to your feet, taking the few steps down the counter until you were stood just behind the red headed woman. “I didn't hear her ask or agree for your hands on her.” You'd said, glaring at the drunk man.

The woman's mouth had opened once she'd looked over her shoulder at you, about to speak. Before she could the man had gotten to his own unsteady feet and stood square with you. “And I don't remember askin’ for your input, bitch.” He’d slurred. “So go on back to whatever Bachelorette party you're here with and leave me and my lady alone.”

“Your lady?” The woman had echoed, incredulous.

Neither you nor the man had registered her speak, your attention too focused on the other. “I think it's probably better if you went home. I don't think she's going to want another drink from you now that you've groped her and all.”

You hadn't done or said much, but it was enough. The man had swung on you first, and you were at least twice as sober as he was. It was easy enough to dodge and return with your own.

After that, the bar staff swiftly intervened. Thankfully, the bartender had seen it happen and knew you didn't start it so you weren't kicked from the bar. Though you wouldn't have been too upset if you had been.

“You alright?” You'd asked with a glance back to the redhead, still sat on her stool. Almost as if it hadn't happened at all.

“I'm fine.” A hand had waved whatever worry you had away as she calmly sipped what was left of her margarita. “Ain't nothin’ I haven't dealt with before.” She glanced back to you, a bit of a smirk on her features. “Look at you, though, a regular knight in shining armor, huh?”

“I wouldn't say that. I just couldn't sit there and watch it happen, though.”

“Ah, you'd have just seen me break out moves from my old self defense classes, Hon. Thanks for the assist, though.”

“You want another?” You'd ask with a gesture at her almost empty glass.

Now, she fully smirked your way. “You gonna try your hand at it now?” She teased you.

You shook your head. “Not like that. I'm having one more after all that and then I'm heading home. Figured I could get you one more to make up for the trouble.”

“Trouble you didn't cause.” She'd said, though she waved you to the stool next to her before she looked for the bartender. “One more, Jimmy! Put another of whatever she's having on mine too, would ya?” She called with a thumb in your direction.

“I said I would get yours.” You murmured with a small smile as you leaned elbows against the counter.

“Yeah, well, I decided I was gettin’ us both. Tough shit.”

You laughed. You nursed your last drink much slower than you usually would, drawing out your conversation with Melissa as you'd learned her name and introduced yourself. You'd shared and learned a lot about each other over that last drink with a swap of phone numbers ending your night.

From then, you and Melissa had texted throughout the next week, occasionally sharing a phone call to catch up on your days a little easier. You went to dinner the next weekend. You spent even more time together as time went on after that.

Melissa had thought her temper was bad. She knew she could snap when she was in a bad mood. Even worse than just snapping if she was really pissed or hurt. It was something that had taken a lot of time and work for her to reign in. Though it still could get the best of her when emotions ran high.

She thought her temper was bad. Yours could be much worse. You never started conflicts but you definitely never hesitated to participate in them when they happened around you though. She'd joked when you first met about the white knight in shining armor bit but sometimes you really did live up to the trope. If you saw something, you just could not pretend you hadn't. Even for your own benefit.

The closer the two of you got, the more she saw of it. The more, too, she got to be on the other end of it. You never meant it, and you certainly were never supremely rude or hurtful to her. You were rude enough though that it hit her wrong every time. Even if she didn't think you meant it, every time it happened it piled on. Every time you had snapped at her, or sarcastically commented on something. It all added up.

“Would you let it go!?” Melissa huffed, in a sudden outburst one night.

The two of you returned to the bar you'd met in. Not for the first time since. Tonight though, you'd sworn you saw some guy making unwanted moves on someone else in the bar. Not unlike the night you and Melissa met.

Except tonight, Melissa had looked at the table you pointed out and seen nothing but a young couple on what looked like a first date. Sure, the guy you kept harping on about was a little loud but the one he was with wasn't adverse or being harassed or anything close to what you perceived. He just looked shy. Though very much like he enjoyed the other man's attention.

Plus, she'd known you'd had a rough week. Yet you refused to talk about it. Instead, letting everything fester. Until now. You were looking for an excuse to let loose. She could tell from a mile away.

“But Mel he's—”

“But nothin’! You're just lookin’ for a fight!”

“What? I am not, you're being ridiculous.”

“If I'm being ridiculous then you're being delusional, Hon.” She deadpanned.

You scoffed. “I am not. What, you just think I'm gonna tell the guy to back off and then give the other one my number like I did you?”

Melissa blinks across the table at you. “You think this me bein’ jealous?”

“Yeah. I do. ‘Cause there's no other explanation for—”

“The other explanation is exactly what I just said and that you're picking a fight. I didn't let you with some stranger so now it's gonna be with me.”

“I'm not picking a fight!”

“If you're not picking a fight then you need to check your attitude.”

“My attitude?”

“Yeah, Hon, your attitude. You're acting rude as hell. To strangers. To me. To everybody.”

You took a deep breath, staring back at Melissa across the table. She'd never said anything like this to you before. You'd never thought you were being rude. To anybody but certainly not Melissa. You know though, she isn't one to just say something. Melissa says nothing just for the sake of saying it. So, she must be hurt to be calling you on it.

Slowly, you deflate in your seat. The longer you look at her face, the longer you go over moments you thought Melissa was just not in a great mood with how she responded to you. The more you replay so many moments through your mind, the more you realize she's right.

“Shit,” You breathe out, running a hand through your hair. “I'm sorry. I didn't even realize—” You stop yourself, shaking your head. Not realizing isn't an excuse. Nothing is. You really didn't, though. “I never wanted to treat you like that. I'm sorry.”

Mel softens across from you. A hand reaching across the table to grasp one of your own. Her thumb runs over your knuckles soothingly. “Thank you. For apologizin’.” She says. “I believe you didn't realize or want to…so I forgive ya. But we definitely need to work on it, don't ya think?”

You nod, your hand turning to grab Melissa's back and squeeze lightly. “Yeah, I don't want to be making you feel that way. And it's kind of tiring always ending up in some sort of fight or argument.”

Melissa laughs. “It is, ain't it? Don't worry. I'll help however I can, Hon. We'll figure it out.”

It isn't easy. You learn that pretty quickly. You and Melissa still butt heads from time to time except now she calls you on what you're doing much more frequently. In the beginning, it's almost more exhausting how often it happens. It feels like almost every other time you try to speak she's correcting you. Which is frustrating in its own right.

Sometimes you slip, doubling down on what you said before. Sometimes you and Melissa have a complete fight about it. After you both calm down, the two of you always end up standing on opposite sides of the room, sheepishly working your way back together.

It takes a lot of work, and time. You aren't perfect but you get better at catching yourself. At thinking just a little more before you say things.

Despite the rough patches, it brings you and Melissa closer than before. It deepens your relationship in a way you hadn't expected. Her unwavering support even in the worst of times makes you love her even more.

Eventually, she introduces you to some of her friends from work. Not all at once. You meet Barbara first one night after work. You basically have a double date with her and Gerald. You like them both. Seeing her with Barbara, like partners in crime even just sharing an appetizer, makes you smile. Gerald makes you his, though it really turns into you both admiring and gushing over your partners.

Janine you only met because Melissa had forgotten something at home that you'd brought to the school for her. That night, Melissa tells you she'd been keeping you as far away from Janine as possible. She'd been worried Janine would be “too much sunshine” for you. Months ago, she probably would have been but you'd found yourself charmed at her warmth.

Jacob you met when out to dinner one night. Surprised by the younger man recognizing Melissa and striking up conversation. For her part, Melissa looks annoyed on the surface but you notice the twinkle of amusement in her eyes when she introduces you and Jacob seems surprised when she says the word ‘girlfriend’.

It's after that meeting with Jacob that Melissa reluctantly agrees to a game night. Only once you've said you'd be happy to meet everyone and think it would be fun. Apparently they're all anxious to meet you now that Jacob has let the cat out of the bag so to speak.

You promise Melissa you'll be on your best behavior. She laughs and says it isn't you she's worried about. It's that sentence that tells you how far you've come. If you're a little more affectionate over the course of game night, Melissa certainly doesn't complain. She only matches you step for step, like she has from the beginning.

#melissa schemmenti fanfiction #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x you #swing #Spotify

[cjsoleil]

My Performance For You Has No End (San x Wooyoung)

Summary:

San found himself enthralled by the pretty boy who comes into the Starbucks he works at. Even after they start dating, San is still driven insane every time Wooyoung comes in to tease him. One day, he decides to visit Wooyoung at his dance studio to give him the same treatment. He didn’t expect things to escalate so much.

WARNINGS: Smut (MDNI), frottage, blow job

“You know, I had someone order a frap with eleven pumps of caramel syrup today? Eleven, I didn’t even know you could order that.” San complains to Yeosang as he shakes up a strawberry coconut refresher that was mobile ordered. The scent of coffee fills his senses, something he’s more than used to. The elder laughs as he wipes the counter,

“Sky’s the limit.” San pours the drink in a cup and puts on the lid.

“I swear, that much sugar must lessen your lifespan by ten…” he suddenly trails off, staring at the boy who just walked in.

“It’s about that time again.” Jongho mumbles from behind him when San goes to up to the register.

“Hey.” He says with his signature, charming smile that makes everyone waver at least a bit. With the exception of the boy in front of him, unfortunately, “How are you?”

“Good.” The boy smiles at San, a polite smile, “You?”

“Good.” Great, now that you’re here, he thinks.

“How can I help you?” The black haired boy smacks his lips, pulling out his phone. Really, San doesn’t need to ask, he orders the same drink nearly every time he comes in. And he’s always consistant

Does that mean San could probably get away with quickly making his drink in advance? Sure. Will he ever do so? No. That would send him leaving even quicker, and this is the only time he ever gets to see the boy, so he takes avantage and maybe takes a few minutes longer than needed to get his drink.

After taking his order, he steps away and starts to make the drink, all while watching the boy subtly from the corner of his eye. His favourite customer is on the shorter side with short black hair. His face is soft and smooth and he wears small silver hoop earrings. His smile seems to shine and he always looks at San with such kind eyes. He can tell the boy has a mischievous persona of sorts as well.

San will admit it, he does find the boy attractive, but who wouldn’t?

San barely registers the process of making the drink, and much to soon he is handing it to the pretty boy. But he did remember to go out of his way to draw a little cat on the cup with a black sharpie, along with a few stars.

“Thank you.” He gives San a soft smile, and it hurts the red head how he is so oblivious to how that smile makes him feel.

“You’re welcome.”

The second the boy is out the door Yeosang starts laughing.

“Stop it hyung.” San whines and that only makes him laugh more.

“You’re getting worse hyung, now you’re flexing your muscles as you shake drinks.”

“I did not.” He protests against Jongho’s claim.

“Why don’t you ask him out and stop pinning over him?”

“Because.” San dramatically pretends to hit his head on the counter.

“He’s clearly uninterested in me, and if I ask him out then he won’t come by here anymore.” San stands straight with a little pout, “He probably also has a partner. How could he not?”

“Don’t sell yourself short.” The elder tells him, patting his shoulder, “And don’t dirty the counter i just cleaned.”

“He’s right.” The youngest agrees, “You’re not completely repulsing, and you’re still single.”

San knows he’s attractive. Fuck, San prides himself in being hot as hell. But something about the object of his attraction makes him forget all that. He makes him feel… he doesn’t know. Nervous maybe?

“Is that supposed to help me?” San sighs before clapping his hands together, “You know what? Yeah, next time he comes in here I’m asking him out.”

“You said that last week.”

“I’m sincere this time.”

“Said that last week too.”

The next day, San scrolls on his phone though it’s not his break. It’s not like anyone cares. He only looks up when he hears the familiar sound of the front door opening, footsteps patting in. He didn’t expect to be greeted with the welcome sight of his favourite customer. He’s never came in while San works his Sunday shift. It’s almost rude, doesn’t the boy know San needs time to prepare himself mentally before he comes in? Of course he doesn’t. He’s just the barista.

“Hey San.” Wooyoung says when he gets to the counter, the simple action of his name coming out of the boy’s pink lips is enough to cause San’s blood pressure to raise. Wooyoung’s eyes didn’t even flutter down to his name tag, keeping eye contact.

“Hey.” San replies, smiling a smile that is way too bright to be considered a classic customer service smile, “You’re an odd sight to see today.” Wooyoung’s nose scrunches up in confusion and he tilts his head. So cute.

“Excuse me?”

“Oh shit, no.” San curses as he realizes how rude he just sounded, “I mean, you don’t usually come in on Sunday’s, normally just tomorrow and Thursday. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound like I didn’t want to see you, I like seeing you-“ based off Wooyoung’s laugh, San has most definitely said to much. The embarrassment is worth it though, because he made him laugh.

“I like seeing you too.” Wooyoung smiles, “Don’t tell your coworkers but you’re my favourite.” He says with a little wink at the end, making San grin.

“So what can I get you?”

“Ah, can I have a Mocha Frap please?” San inputs the order, albeit slightly confused by how much Wooyoung strayed away from his usual order. After the younger pays, San makes his drink, drawing a simple rabbit along with a few flowers on the cup before filling it and ensuring to put of the whip cream on evenly with a light chocolate drizzle.

“Thank you.” Wooyoung says when he’s given his drink. San must say this selfishly, but he doesn’t was the pretty boy to leave just yet.

“What brought you here today?” He asks to stall the boy from his departure.

“I come here on my way back from the dance studio around here.” San nods, knowing what place he’s referring to. He has friends who go there,

“I just went in there earlier to get some extra practice for a performance I have coming up.”

“Oh that’s nice.” San says, a bit awkward, “How long have you been dancing… for?” San unintentionally pauses during his sentence, as Wooyoung runs his right index finger on the lid of his drink, getting the extra whip cream on his finger. He brings it to his mouth with a hum, sucking his finger a bit and running his tongue around it, collecting the cream before taking it out of his mouth. His tongue slightly drags against his finger as he brings it away from between his lips, just flashing San for a second.

Fuck fuck fuck

It’s all San can think. He doesn’t know if Wooyoung is even doing this intentionally, a simple action making San almost loose his mind, blood rushing not only to his face but further down. He wants to lick off the the small speck of cream that remains on Wooyoung’s upper lip. Wants to kiss them until he’s bruised.

‘Get a hold of yourself.’ San tells himself, trying to force himself to calm down and to stop acting like a pervert, because that shouldn’t have turned him on as much as it did. Based on the smirk Wooyoung wears, he’s enjoying San’s dread.

‘What a brat.’

“A long time.” Wooyoung answers, snickering from the expression San is making.

Fuck it, San is not going to give him the chance to slip away.

“Go out with me.” He bluntly asks, instantly feeling blood rush to his face in embarrassment.

“Sorry I-“

“Took you long enough.” Wooyoung’s smiling, a lovely smile that San has been dreaming of seeing. Not a strictly out of politeness one, a genuine one.

“You knew I liked you?”

“Well, do you draw cute little doodles for all your customers?” To be honest, Wooyoung didn’t originally have much interest in the barista. Sure, he acknowledged the fact that he’s attractive, but other than that he didn’t really care. But as time progressed, he soon became infatuated with the red head. So much so, that now Wooyoung has a collection of plastic cups with drawings on them.

Well, San is happy that got his point across. Though he wishes Wooyoung would have made the first move instead of letting San embarrass himself.

“Only the ones I really like.” He answers, and he looks into Wooyoung’s eyes that are filled with mischief and care.

“I-“ San quickly grabs a black sharpie from his apron pocket and asks to take Wooyoung’s cup, which he allows. San writes his number on it then hands it back.

“Here.” Wooyoung laughs, probably at the fact he didn’t just ask to put it in his phone like anyone else would. San isn’t really thinking about that at the moment though, riding the high of this impulse action is working in his benefit.

“I’ll talk to you later then, hyung” Wooyoung tells him before leaving, waving slightly. San sighs with a smile.

“Yeah, later.”

One day at work, San was dealing with a little bit of a rush hour.

“Order for Chan.” He calls out as he brought two drinks to the counter. He read the next order and seeing the name momentarily lifts his stress away. Looking beyond the counter, San finds Wooyoung in just a few seconds, but he’s not alone like usual. With him is a really tall guy he doesn’t know and Seonghwa. Funny thing, San never knew that Seonghwa and Wooyoung were friends.

After catching Wooyoung’s eye, he looks away with a smile and towards the tall man with him. The onyx haired boy leans up on his toes and kisses the others cheek for a few seconds.

Now Wooyoung and San are dating, yes. They’ve been going out for quite some time now. Wooyoung still comes in on his usual days, but also squeezes in extra visits to see San while he’s working. It’s been great. So the undeniable feeling of jealousy and slight possession is completely justified in his opinion.

“Hyung.” Jongho’s voice brings his attention and he looks at the younger who is whisper shouting to him, “Do your job.” San nods, remembering where he is and starts doing something productive. Yeosang sneaks up beside him.

“What’s with that look?”

“I don’t have a look.” San responds, focused on making a drink.

“You’re mad.” Yeosang states, “Is it because of Wooyoung?” San doesn’t bother to answer, knowing that the elder already knows that’s exactly it. He’s not actually mad at him, but maybe more.. irked.

“He’s teasing you hyung, he does it every time he comes in here.” Jongho comments as he walks by.

“No he…” Memories flash through San’s head, Wooyoung licking the whip cream off his finger the day he asked him out, him unnecessarily bending over tables to talk to his friends, leaning over the counter to press fleeting kisses to the corner of San’s mouth and now today, intentionally being overly affectionate with his friends.

“Yeah he’s a brat.” San admits.

“You don’t find it annoying right?” Yeosang questions, with a twinge of concern in his voice.

“Of course I don’t.” San says truthfully, “What is annoying is that he keeps turning me on at work.” Jongho, who sadly happened to cross by at that exact moment, considers resigning.

“Hyung, can you please talk about your frustrations literally anywhere im not present.” The youngest sighs, “I’m going to report you two.” The two still actually do get back to work, knowing Jongho probably would out of spite.

“Just do the same to him.” Yeosang whispers to San as me makes his drink.

“Do what?”

“You know.” San thinks about for a second before a light in his head turns on, the gears turning as he plots a little something.

When he serves Wooyoung, he gives no reaction to make it look like the teasing had no impact on him, which is more difficult than it sounds. He hands him his drink and allows Wooyoung to press a kiss to his cheek, like he did with his friend before pulling away.

“I’ll call you later baby.” Is all San has to say to him before going to the cash, leaving Wooyoung with a little pout Yunho and Seonghwa pick fun at him for.

Wooyoung dances along to the music playing from his speaker. His body flows in perfectly choreographed movements, the time he invested into his work coming through. Yunho and other people from his dance class are with him.

He doesn’t hear the door of the studio open over the music playing. When he focuses on the mirror, he sees San standing by the door, making him stop his movements for a split second. San smiles seeing he’s been caught, and makes a little gesture with his hand to signal the younger to continue. After a second Wooyoung continues, and San stays watching while leaning against the wall.

After two minutes the song is done, and Wooyoung lifts the hem of his shirt to wipe the sweat of his face, intentionally flashing his abs to his red haired boyfriend. San doesn’t give him much of a reaction, he just grins with a shake of his head as Wooyoung walks over to him,

“Shouldn’t you be working?”Wooyoung asks with a soft smile, San lifts his hand to show the iced americano he brought. Today San drew two swans facing each other, forming a heart.

“Called in sick today.” Is San’s response, handing the drink to the younger.

“Hm, why’d you lie?” San hums and wraps his arms around his waist.

“Wanted to see you.” He murmured against Wooyoung’s neck, pressing a kiss there. He laughs a bit and pushes the elder away from him before taking a sip of his drink.

“Wooyoung.” He looks to the side to see Yunho coming towards them, “I’m heading out to meet up with Mingi. I’ll see you in a bit.”

“Yeah.” Wooyoung nods, feeling San throw an arm over his shoulder. Usually Wooyoung and Yunho get food or something together during their break. Yunho gives San a quick greeting, one that the younger returns before leaving with his bag. Everyone leaves during the hour long break they have, usually it’s shorter but because this is simply extra practice for a banquet coming up and not the actual dance class, they go for a long break.

Once everyone leaves, San hugs Wooyoung from behind, slightly swaying as he admires his boyfriend in the mirror. A light sheen of sweat covers his skin, but San doesn’t mind at all. He slides his hands under the younger’s shirt and runs his hands against Wooyoung’s bare skin. He drags his nails against his abs and smiles when he feels Wooyoung sigh happily against him. His eyes flutter shut as he relaxes in San’s comforting hold. They shoot open again when the red head starts to feel up his chest.

Wooyoung turns around in San’s arms, reaching up to wrap one arm around his shoulders. The other stays at his side, still holding his coffee.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He whispers against the red head’s lips. San grabs his drink from him, he moves his other hand to Wooyoung’s ass.

“Is it a crime to display my care for you?” San questions with a hum, lightly kissing Wooyoung’s lips. He tastes like the americano San brought him.

“You’re up to something.” Wooyoung says between kisses, cupping the elder’s face.

San only smiles, and starts to kiss Wooyoung with a bit more intensity. They stay like that, standing in nearly middle of the dance studio, exchanging kisses and small touches. After a few minutes San pulls away before bending down and putting the cup on the floor. When he stands back up, he grabs the backs of Wooyoung’s thighs and picks him up, making the younger let out a surprised little gasp and wrap his legs around San’s waist and arms around his neck.

San walks forward until Wooyoung’s back meets the glass of a mirror. He nearly shivers at the cold material touching his lower back where his shirt has ridden up, but the heat of San’s mouth on his neck contrasts that.

“What are you doing?” Wooyoung asks again, pulling San away from his neck by his hair.

“You always tease me when I’m working.” San tells him, leaning in to kiss the skin behind the younger’s ear,

“When I can’t do anything about it. Thought I’d come here, turn the tables. You know?” Wooyoung hums as he runs a hand through the other’s red hair.

“So what? This is your attempt on getting me back?” He turns San’s head so he can lean in and kiss him gently. He runs his tongue along the elder’s upper lip before biting his lower one. San squeezes Wooyoung’s thighs a little too hard, but he doesn’t mind. He finds the feeling pleasurable in a way. San inches forward so his hips slot with Wooyoung’s, the friction making him have to stifle a gasp. San doesn’t bother doing so, letting out a small moan.

Wooyoung laughs a bit, pulling the other’s hair.

“Be realistic Sannie. You can’t stop at just teasing. You need more than that, yeah?” San knows he’s right, he didn’t actually expect to come to the studio and not have anything happen. He can’t help it, everything about Wooyoung is just so mesmerizing. The way his laugh, his bratty personality, the feeling of his skin. How could San ever just tease when he can have more? San just wants all that Wooyoung is comfortable with giving.

“We have less than an hour hyung.” Wooyoung mumbles against San’s lips.

“So we have plenty of time.” San responds, before hiking Wooyoung up a bit and kissing him harshly. His head falls back against the mirror, and when San moves to direct his attention to the younger’s neck, Wooyoung tilts his head to rest his warm cheek on the cool glass. His breaths fog up a spot on the mirror, just for it to disappear and reappear.

Suddenly Wooyoung kicks San’s back.

“Let me down.” He’s quick to obey the command, not wanting to cross a boundary.

“Sit down.” San obey’s again, though slightly confused as he sits on the floor. Wooyoung follows him down and sits on his lap. The position makes it so San can feel how hard the other is.

“Woo-“ San cuts himself off with a moan as Wooyoung starts to grind against him.

“Just let me-“ he whines a little, wrapping his arms around San’s shoulders to stable himself. San rests his hands on Wooyoung’s waist but doesn’t move him at all. He lets Wooyoung set the pace.

“Sannie.” Wooyoung moans his name, rutting faster against San. He starts to kiss the younger’s neck, making sure to leave a number of marks. He cries out, now losing his rythme, moving frantically to chase his pleasure.

San gives bites at the earring Wooyoung wears, nipping his ear a few more times before he looks to the side at the mirror and moans at the sight. Fuck, he can imagine teasing Wooyoung open on his fingers as he forces him to watch himself. Having the younger ride him and see every expression he makes in the mirror.

“Shit. I want you so fucking bad.” He grabs Wooyoung’s waist and urges him to shoved him down against his lap.

“Wanna fuck you in front of this mirror, make you watch as I take you apart.”

“Big talk, can you- ah- follow through?” Wooyoung questions, sitting up and lifting his white tank top to reveal his whole torso to San.

“Brat.” He leans forward and kisses along his chest, leaving red marks as he moves along. Soon, San moves one hand to pinch one of Wooyoung’s nipple as he sucks the other one. The action makes the younger wrap his arms around San’s head, so the hem of his tank top rests on the top of the barista’s head. San runs his tongue over it multiple times before sucking his nipple hard, making Wooyoung’s hips stutter. He bites him before pulling away with a final swipe of his tongue, soothing the ache he cause before moving to give the other side the same treatment.

With no warning, San suddenly grabs Wooyoung’s hips and flips their position so Wooyoung is laying flat on the ground with Sam on top of him. He thrusts hard against Wooyoung, making the younger boy cry out.

“So good.” He jerks his hips up to meet San’s, making them both let out choked gasps.

Wooyoung is already so close to coming. His shirt has ridden down, rubbing against his sensitive chest as San rubs against his lower half. So close, he’s right there-

“No!” He cries out when San suddenly pulls away from him completely.

“Shh I’m sorry.” San whispers as he stands up and forces Wooyoung to get up as well. They both take deep breaths to stabilize themselves, Wooyoung being taken aback by the sudden end,

“Why did you-“ the door to the studio opens, making Wooyoung jump away from San.

A girl, one of the dancers, comes inside the room. She looks at the two and gives a tight lipped smile.

“Hey Wooyoung.” She greets awkwardly before rushing to a bench over by the side wall and picking up her phone. Clearly she forgot to grab it earlier. She avoids looking at the boys as she leaves, only waving her hand at them from behind as she scurried out the door.

“Do you think we traumatized her?” Despite catching them just standing, it’s obvious they were up to something by their flushed faces and messed up hair. Not to mention she may have heard their moans from outside the room.

“Hopefully not.” Wooyoung replies, still slightly breathless. Really, they’re all probably equally mortified. Wooyoung looks up to where the clock hangs on the wall,

“Thirty minutes.” He steps closer to San so their chest to chest and starts to nip at the older’s neck.

San is taken back by the gesture, he assumed that they would stop after almost getting caught. Or because they have only half an hour left before more people actually started to show up.

“Baby, we don’t have time.”

“What happened to having more than enough.” San groans slightly, rubbing Wooyoung’s waist.

“Do you even have a change of clothes? Because I don’t.“

Wooyoung hums against the juncture of his neck and shoulder. San raises a good point. After a few moments, he gives San a quick kiss on his neck before dropping to his knees infront of him. The barista’s eyes widen as Wooyoung starts to undo his pants.

“Woo you don’t have to.” San insists, petting the younger’s hair, “I’m here for you.” They have done this a few times in their relationship, but San likes it to be clear that Wooyoung is doing something because he wants to. Besides, he really did come here with the intention of pleasuring Wooyoung.

“I know.” Wooyoung says, the soft tone of his voice shows how much he really does appreciate the concern, despite it being unnecessary. Wooyoung will only ever do what he wants to do.

He pulls down San’s pants along with his boxers, relishing in the way San runs his hands through his black hair, lightly scratching his scalp. Wooyoung places his hands on San’s bare thighs and leans in.

“Fucking shit!” San swears when Wooyoung unexpectedly swallows him whole. He slams one hand to the side and hits the mirror. It’s honestly shocking the glass didn’t shatter. His other hand tightened its grip on Wooyoung’s hair, but he’s quick to sooth the ache he must have caused by petting his hair back. Wooyoung is such a demon, with the way he runs his tongue along San’s cock and leans back every now and then to place gentle kisses on the sensitive skin. The barista moans at the feeling, and only gets louder when he looks in the mirror.

“S’pretty jagiya.” He praised the younger, running his thumb against Wooyoung’s lips where he’s stretched around him.

“You’re- shit- you’re so beautiful.” San gently thrusts into Wooyoung’s mouth, making him gag slightly. But with the way Wooyoung moans around him, he clearly enjoys it.

“With your bratty mouth full- fuck- you’ve finally- shut up for once.” He cups Wooyoung’s face and holds him still as he moves faster. His breaths become heavier and Wooyoung moans around him again, the feeling runs through San’s entire body. He throws his head back as he gets his sweet relief, trying not to pull Wooyoung’s hair too hard.

After a few moments, Wooyoung pulls away and licks San clean as he settles his mind a bit. San gently nudged Wooyoung away before pulling up his clothes. He looks down at the younger. San smiles, seeing that his lovely boyfriend has made a complete mess of himself, saliva coats his lips, unshed tears are in his eyes and his whole face is red from the mixture of lack of air and arousal.

“You okay?” San asks, and Wooyoung nods, leaning into the comforting touch of San’s hand in his hair.

“C’mere.” He lifts Wooyoung up from under his arms and brings him into his chest for a hug, holding the smaller boy tightly against him. Rubbing his back, San kisses along his jaw before giving a long kiss on his lips. His hands start to travel down towards the waist of Wooyoung’s pants, but the younger quickly grabs his hand to stop him.

“Honey?”

“Don’t need to.” Wooyoung mumbles, nuzzling into San’s neck.

San takes a second to register what that means but when he holds Wooyoung even tighter when he does.

“Sweet jagi.” If San would have looked down and focused a little bit more, he would have saw Wooyoung rutting frantically against his own hand until he came.

San kisses the top of the shorter boy’s hair a few times,

“Do you wanna fake sick with me?” Wooyoung laughs a bit before pulling back, smiling up at his boyfriend.

“Well, I don’t want to be seen like this.” He gestures to himself.

“You mean anyone else.” San teases, as Wooyoung goes to get his phone. He walks with a grimace, he didn’t really think of the consequences to his actions earlier, even though San mentioned it. So now he’s going to have to tolerate the uncomfortable feeling of his come soaked boxers until San takes him home.

Wooyoung sends a quick text to his group chat saying that we won’t be there for the rest of practice since he started to feel unwell. While he does that, San grabs his bag for him and holds one of his hands.

“Do you want me to carry you to my car?”

“Kinda.” Wooyoung screeches when San suddenly picks him up bridal style and holds onto his shoulders for stability.

“Hyung! I was kidding.”

“Let me take care of you Wooyoung.” San insists.

“Wait.” Wooyoung says before San walks towards the door, “Grab my drink.”

“I’ll just buy you a new one.”

“No. Grab it.” San groans but still walks across the room and kneels down, still adamant on holding the boy. Wooyoung grabs the watered down drink and pats the barista’s shoulder with his other hand.

“Okay. Let’s go.”

“I am never going to be able to be in that room without having horrible thoughts, are you happy?” Wooyoung complains to San as he starts to drive, one hand resting on the younger’s thigh.

“I’m happy you will be thinking of me.” San innocently smiles. Taking a quick sip of his drink, Wooyoung pouts.

“What?”

“The ice melted, so it’s not that good now.”

“I said I would buy you a new one.” Wooyoung shakes his head, looking down at the swan drawing on the cup.

“I needed the cup. Not the drink.”

“Why?” San questions, keeping his eyes on the road. Wooyoung shifts, still very uncomfortable with the state of his boxer’s.

“The drawings.” Is Wooyoung’s simple answer. San thinks about his words for a minute, and at the next red light he turns his head to look at his boyfriend properly.

“You keep the cups?” San looks so happy, he is so happy. His boyfriend keeps little mementos of him, despite being together all the time. The gesture is everything. Wooyoung nods, a little embarrassed by San knowing that he quite literally keeps trash because it reminds him of his boyfriend.

“Drive.” San looks back at the road and sees the light is green. San grabs Wooyoung’s hand and lifts it up to his lips, giving the back of his hand a loud kiss as he starts to drive them home. Though both can argue home is right where the other is.

#ateez #ateez oneshot #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez smut #kpop fanfic #kpop #kpop smut #wooyoung #choi san #jung wooyoung #san x wooyoung #san smut #wooyoung smut #San/wooyoung #cafe au #woosan #member x member

[bluerose5]

Hmm how about Halsin and Iron Bull (in whatever relationship dynamic you like!) commiserating after a fight with some goblins?

The kind of ship that snuck up on me out of nowhere. These two 100% took control of the fic and made it longer than what I intended, although I'm not complaining. 😌

...

One thing the Iron Bull never expected was for Halsin to admit to being a lightweight of all things.

While the tieflings' party was in full swing, he made his rounds throughout camp, took note of where everyone else's minds were at, his companions' especially, and he drank.

That was, until Bull realized the liquor on hand was some of the weakest shit compared to back home.

Still, it was a celebration, so he accepted drinks when offered, disgruntled by the fact that he was barely breaking a sweat over it.

Sobriety aside, he waited to speak with Halsin last, mostly because he wasn't quite sure what to make of him yet.

For one, he was big. Probably a little shorter than your average Qunari, but bigger than any elf Bull encountered in Thedas at least.

Secondly, he wielded magic different from most that Bull was familiar with, and the fact that majority of spellcasters in Faerûn didn't have to struggle against demons and possession in order to control their power...

Strange. Reassuring in a sense, but very strange.

When all was said and done, Bull figured no harm could come from getting to know the newcomer. This esteemed, knowledgeable "Archdruid" of theirs.

Who happened to be easy on the eyes —well, eye, singular— as well, but that was neither here nor there.

The Iron Bull sauntered up to him with a friendly smile, his head held high in a show of confidence.

"Well, it looks like I saved the best for last!" Bull greeted. "Settling in okay?" Before Halsin could answer, Bull interrupted. "Wait! Wait." He gave a dramatic pause. "I couldn't bear it if you said 'no.' Haha!"

He beamed at Halsin, who couldn't resist a snort of amusement, the corners of his eyes crinkled in delight.

Bull could practically hear Krem grumbling from there.

"Do not concern yourself with me. I am settling in just fine," Halsin assured him. "Of course, it always helps to have a host as gracious as yourself."

"Let's see if you still think that by the end of the night," the Iron Bull joked. He stood at Halsin's side, giving him a playful nudge with his elbow. "Seriously, though, that fight at that temple was great, yeah?" His heart raced at the memory. He leaned in, his voice low, appreciative. "You were incredible."

"Oh, come now," Halsin said, brushing off the compliment. "I don't know about that. You and your companions did most of the heavy lifting, after all."

"Don't downplay your role in our victory," Bull told him. "The sheer amount of goblins alone would have proved a challenge for anyone, but you cut through them like it was nothing." Try as he may, Bull couldn't help it, his eye trailing up and down Halsin's body. "All of that fury and rage, unleashed, directed at our enemies. You were a sight to behold, but tell the truth. You enjoyed it, didn't you?"

Halsin glanced at him, not even bothering to hide how his eyes raked over his frame in return.

"Perhaps," he allowed, taking a second to clear his throat. "I must admit, I have come to expect at least a hint of fear from outsiders in response to my wild shape."

"Heh," Bull chuckled. "I fought dragons before, pal. It's gonna take more than a big teddy bear like you to scare me away."

"Is that so?" Halsin raised an eyebrow at him, surveying the area around them. "Maybe I should work on that then. Everyone should maintain a healthy balance of fear and respect for nature."

"Trust me, I respect it plenty," Bull said, "but by all means, do your worst."

Halsin shook his head, smiling to himself.

"Tempting as that is, you surely have others to go mingle with. Don't let me keep you."

"Nah." Bull waved off that concern without second thought. "I've done more than my fair share of mingling for tonight. I want to get to know you better."

He gave him a playful poke to the arm.

"Hmm..." Halsin hummed in contemplation. "I wouldn't want to be selfish and rob others here of your company. I can wait until morning to speak with you at the very least."

"Which is fine, if that's what you want," the Iron Bull whispered, "but what if I want you to be selfish?"

Halsin searched his expression for any sign of deceit.

When such scrutiny proved fruitless, his entire demeanor shifted, more open to the idea compared to before.

"In that case," he responded, "will you tell me about one of your dragon hunts then?"

"Fuck yeah, I will!" Bull exclaimed, his excitement radiant like a flame.

He clasped a hand onto Halsin's shoulder, giving it a warm, companionable squeeze.

A small shiver shot down his spine, one that Bull was quick to watch with keen interest.

The Iron Bull reckoned that Halsin didn't know many people who towered over him. It was almost funny how often his gaze would level with Bull's pecs or wander farther below before darting up to his face yet again, as if he had to constantly remind himself that he was the shorter one for once.

Then again, maybe he just liked the sight of his chest. Bull couldn't fault him for that.

"Let's see. Let's see," Bull said, rubbing at his chin while he thought it over. "I could go simple. The first dragon I ever hunted alongside the Inquisitor was terrorizing the countryside we were in at the time. It was a Fereldan Frostback."

Already, his eye was glazing over at the tale, his voice taking on a tinge of admiration that bordered on reverence. Or as close to it as he could get.

"Extremely territorial, those ones, and damn if she wasn't a beauty. All of that raw, untamed power, but unfortunately for her, her territory happened to include a few defenseless villages that couldn't ward her off on their own. That's where we came in."

He wrapped his arm around Halsin's shoulders, drawing him in closer as he spoke, staring off towards a faraway land that was well beyond their reach for now.

"That sharp burst of air that rushed past as she swiped her tail at us. That loud ringing in our ears when she screeched at the skies. That molten heat that radiated in the air when she snapped her teeth at us, so close that we would have been her next meal, had we not rolled out of reach in time."

He bared his teeth into a grin.

"That was a good day," he all but growled. "A good day, indeed!"

Halsin shifted in place. Of course, it didn't escape Bull's notice how he eased closer to him in the process.

He stared at the Iron Bull with a mixture of heat and shock.

"You almost sound excited," he said, hesitant, not wanting to overstep his bounds.

Not that it deterred Bull in the slightest.

"That's because I am," Bull stated, unashamed. "Even now, something about it gets my blood pumping and my heart racing, more so than any other fight." He grunted loudly as he lingered on the memory. "Maybe it's in my blood."

"Your blood?"

"Yeah," he said, "rumor has it that there might have been some dragon's blood mixed into the Qunari's somewhere along the way." He shrugged. "No one knows for certain. Would be pretty badass, though, wouldn't it?"

"Definitely."

"Okay, now it's your turn."

"My turn?" Halsin questioned.

"To share. Come on," Bull encouraged. "You can't tell me that you don't have some wild stories stashed away."

"Well," Halsin launched into his tale without missing a beat, "it's not too different from yours. Back in my youth—"

"Nuh-uh, none of that," Bull interrupted. "You're not that old."

"I'll have you know that I am three hundred and fifty years young."

"Hot."

Bull smirked when that got a laugh out of him.

"I can admire anyone who is so open with their desires," Halsin said, "but shall I continue the story?"

"Oh, alright, I'll behave."

"Somehow I doubt that," Halsin teased, "but as I was saying, I was young and impulsive at the time, traveling and exploring the world to my heart's content. After indulging in nature's gifts on land for so long, life led me to the sea. Throughout my journey, I heard about a string of pirate attacks, led by a rogue band of water genasi. Their greed had already impacted several coastal villages by the time I caught wind of it."

Bull made a mental note to ask more about the race later, too intent on listening to the current story to venture off on another tangent.

"People were being taken from their homes, everyone from their children to the elderly. Those who relied heavily on fish as a staple found themselves on the brink of starvation. Resources were being drained. Their valuables were looted. Any who fought against the genasi were executed or enslaved, made an example of."

"But you stopped them?"

"Eventually," Halsin sighed, it obviously taking a toll on him that he couldn't save more than what he did. "I studied their movements, their tactics. At first, I would rally others behind me, wait until the genasi tried for an ambush, and attack then. But there were still too many deaths for my liking, so I went on the offensive. The locals provided me with a vessel of my own, and I sailed out into the open waters. I took the fight to them, grew more and more cocky with each ship I took down. I believed myself to be invincible, and that made me reckless."

"What happened next?" Bull asked, although he already had an idea.

"You clearly survived, though."

"I was taken prisoner. One of my attacks went exactly as I planned, but I didn't know that the genasi had others lying in wait, holding back until they saw the perfect opportunity to strike. They outnumbered me, enough so that they were able to overpower me, and that was that."

"That, I did. With me as their trophy, the band that captured me left the coastland for quite some time. About a year and a half passed, give or take a few months, but I forced myself to be patient throughout that time of servitude, difficult as it was. I earned the trust of the crew. And later, the captain.

"Then one day, I felt it. There was something stirring in the water, restless, massive in size. I could sense it, and part of me knew that it was my time to act.

"I convinced the crew that there was treasure, worthy of the gods, in some nearby wreckage. I made up a lie, said I recalled the area from my studies, and they believed me."

"You led them right into a trap," Bull said, impressed.

Halsin nodded.

"It was a kraken's territory," he explained. "A sea monster of great power and might. It rose up from its dark depths to confront us. The waters turned rough and formed a large, gaping vortex that threatened to consume us all. The winds whipped at blinding speeds. Storms formed that spewed lightning everywhere you looked. The kraken even managed to charm some of the crew into fighting under its thrall, so you can imagine how everything turned into a bloodbath from there."

"Damn." Bull released a low whistle, recalling a few stories he heard of dreadnoughts encountering an aban-ataashi —a sea dragon— while out on their patrols.

He imagined this creature must have been similar to cause so much destruction.

"Nothing against you or your skills, but I'm surprised you survived."

"You and me both," Halsin agreed. "I was so weak that I couldn't switch forms all that much at the time, but I managed to rely on some basic spells to keep me safe long enough to escape. I fought alongside the crew for a while to discourage any suspicion, but I stole one of the ship's work boats the second it was clear that the crew and the kraken were going to go down destroying each other. Through the gods' mercy alone, I managed to make it out of there. I watched both ship and kraken sink into the sea from afar, and I somehow survived until I found land once again."

"Okay, now that story deserves a drink," Bull said. "Or several. Care to share one with me?"

"In truth, I rarely imbibe," Halsin answered. "The stuff goes right to my head."

The sounds of the party returned to them then. Voices rose and fell. Squeals of delight and the clink of tankards greeted their ears.

People danced and swayed, stumbling around without a care in the world.

"Wait, really?" Bull asked, incredulous. "You're telling me that you can't hold your liquor?"

Somehow, that was even more unbelievable than him fighting a kraken.

Halsin laughed, holding his hands up in surrender.

"All I'm saying is that it won't take long before I'm breaking into song or declaring love to the first person I lay eyes on."

"Well, I mean, if you need a target to focus that energy on..." Squeezing him up against his side, Bull flexed his free arm, waggling his eyebrows at him. "I'm your guy."

"A tempting offer, I'll admit," Halsin said, admiring him openly.

"Plus, I've also been known to break into song here and there."

"Now, that, I have to see."

"Find me something stronger than the swill they serve around here," Bull challenged, "and you're on."

"Ah." As understanding dawned on him, Halsin flashed Bull a secretive smirk. "You thought that I meant that I can't handle the spirits such as those at this party." At Bull's confused look, Halsin clarified. "I keep a, uh, personal flask on hand for special occasions."

"No shit," Bull said, watching him closely, unable to keep his curiosity at bay. "You have your own recipe or what?"

"Something like that, and I have my pipe on me too, if you're interested."

"Don't have to tell me twice. Let's go make a little music, yeah?"

Amused, Halsin readily agreed.

They didn't even try to hide it as they ditched the party in favor of the surrounding forests, neither of them the type to sneak about in such a manner anyways.

They spent the rest of the night in high spirits under the stars, drinking, smoking, trading stories. And yes, singing rather terribly as well.

They fell asleep bathed in moonlight, and only when the rising sun bid them to wake did they return to camp together to discuss their next move.

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #dragon age #dai #halsin #the iron bull #the iron bull x halsin #halsin x the iron bull #ironbear #bluerose answers #bluerose writes #crossover

[zoeykallus]

Hello Zoey,

How are you??? We miss your stories so much!!!!!!

You write a lot about the Batch and I imagine that you must have watched both seasons and that the personality of the characters is no longer a secret to you. I am French and on a French forum that I read, a person thinks that Crosshair is a psychopath in view of his behavior in the series. I don't agree at all but he made a lot of arguments. What do you think about it? If you had to define Crosshair's personality what would you say?

Thank you so much !!!!!!

Aloha!

SPOILER!!! For those who haven't seen both BAD BATCH seasons. And a little warning, I might have used some expletives

Uh, I'm probably making enemies with this one. I'll say right up front, just to be clear, this is just my guess, my perception. So the things I write next are not automatically facts and I don't automatically assume that they are, I'm just filling in some gaps with my HCs. To be honest, I had a few moments in the first season where I wasn't sure about Crosshair. I went back and forth between blaming his behavior on the chip or labeling him as "evil". Because we get a lot of we get a lot of information throughout the first season, that more or less cancels each other out and doesn't make sense as a whole. The chip might have had some influence at some point, but I honestly think, by far not as much as some may want to believe. So wich one ist it now? Chip or evil?

Basically though, I think it's neither one nor the other. Assuming the people behind TBB really thought that far, I think it's a lot more complicated than that. Well, there's a pinch of "asshole" with a huge load of "stubborn dickhead" on the side in Crosshair either way. At least in my opinion. But! I think his decisions stem more from the fact that everything around him has suddenly changed.

Being a soldier has always given him a purpose, a place in life, a task, something in which he saw function and meaning. His brothers suddenly want to leave it behind, and rightly so, but Crosshair is unsettled. If he were to join them, he would give up everything that has defined him so far, at least that's how he feels.

Try to imagine that something is happening around you and suddenly your whole life is about to be completely turned upside down and complicated. That would scare me, it would make me feel more than just uncomfortable. Because everyone is different, everyone reacts differently. Crosshair tries for a while to convince his brothers that it's right to continue to follow orders, because anything else could result in them being disbanded or separated.

The fact that Hunter wants to steer the group in a different direction scares him, because then he might soon be alone. I think that's one reason why in the course of the first season, before the batch is separated, he also goes on a confrontational course with his Sergeant.

Numerous decisions he has made, things he has done, are more than borderline, definitely reprehensible. But you have to remember, that's all he knows. Effectively following orders, that's what his whole life consisted of. There was no real childhood, no family life. Like all other clones, Crosshair was born into the life of a soldier. Crosshair is the kind of person who goes into emotional freefall when people try to take away what he feels is his destiny. So he does everything he can to prevent this from happening, he doesn't want to lose this place, this position, what he is used to.

The path he is taking is wrong, and I understand why some people assume that he is evil. However, I didn't think he was a psychopath at first, but a sociopath. Unfortunately, you get this impression in one or two scenes that I simply don't know how to explain or justify.

...where was I...

In the meantime, he wavers between anger and disappointment at his brothers, partly because they have let him down from his point of view, partly because their behavior could backfire on him and partly out of pure frustration. Someone who is already a rather difficult person, thrown into a situation like this, a man who has been conditioned to simply function as a soldier, I imagine that's much more complex than to just label him psycho and/or evil. None of this justifies some of his actions, murders I would call it, albeit on orders. I'm pretty sure he'll have to deal with that for quite a while, if he lives long enough, it's the kind of thing that haunts you to sleep. (In season 2, we have a moment after talking to Cody about soldiers, machines and decisions, where you get a little glimpse that Crosshair can have sleepless nights too, and I think that was the beginning of his self-reflection FINALLY!) We see at the end of the first season that he's not a complete ass, he saves Omega and also AZ, he acts like it's reluctant, but he knows it's the right thing to do, no one is forcing him to do it. Since Omega saved him before, he later mentions that they're even now, so you could read into that now, that he's using that as an excuse because he doesn't want to admit that he would have saved them either way. I'm just putting that assumption out there.

Now, in the second season, we see more and more clearly that his loyalty as a soldier is being trampled on by the Empire. In one specific episode in particular, in which Mayday unfortunately dies, we see very clearly how he realizes what status he has in the Empire, namely none at all. He's a clone, a special one, but just like the other clones, he's worth practically nothing. Cheap labor, cannon fodder, nothing more. Just looking at the gear of Mayday and his crew already screams it out loud, the empire doesn't give a damn about them. But then Mayday, the brother he tries to save, dies because of an Officer's neglect/ignorance/assholery (is that a word?) The realization is terrible, because he realizes that he basically always knew or should have known this. He now acts in extreme contrast to his previous attitude and kills a superior. The fact that he contacts his brothers and tries to warn them shows that he is trying to do the right thing. That he's still a Batcher at heart, that he cares, and that he doesn't care what happens to him as long as he can send out this warning. He must have realized that escape from Tantiss is highly unlikely, he doesn't even really try, his priority is to send this last message to his brothers. All in all, I don't think he's a psychopath. However, I do think he is emotionally/mentally broken.

My honest guess or thought is that there is/could be so much potential in this man, in a good way, if someone had ever taken the time to really nurture it.

Long Story short, he is actually sensitive and scared. Being the cold-hearted soldier is his way of dealing with it. Scared people do the worst shit sometimes. Fear leads to desperation, and the latter leads to fatal decisions. Like staying with the empire and killing people. 🤷🏻‍♀️

I feel like I just made a lot of excuses for that toothpick chewing problem child. I don't know how much of this is making sense, my head hurts 😅

And I admit I'm so afraid for each and every one of them in season 3.

#star wars #tbb #the bad batch #clone force 99 #sw tbb #crosshair #bad batch crosshair #clone trooper crosshair #commander crosshair #crosshair bad batch #crosshair tbb #crosshair the bad batch #tbb crosshair #the bad batch crosshair #my two cents #my head explodes why is the fever coming back

[smoshpvnk]

Damien x Shayne Ship Questions (from @zillaphoneswag)

Who is the cuddler?

Damien

Who makes the bed?

Shayne

Who wakes up first?

Shayne

Who has the weird taste in music?

Damien

Who is more protective?

Damien

Who sings in the shower?

Both

Who cries during movies?

Both depending on the movie

Who kisses more roughly?

Shayne, maybe…???

Who is more dominant?

Damien ofc

Who is the most affectionate?

Damien (I can literally give one hundred examples)

Most common argument?

Silly: video games, serious: challenging each other’s thoughts almost therapeutically about body image, guilt and shame, habits, etc

Who apologizes first?

Damien, just bc he’s a very apologetic person, but Shayne wouldn’t have any reason to withhold apologies either

Favorite (non-sexual) activity to do together?

Video games, cooking, silently working on projects side by side

Who drives and who rides shotgun?

I think Damien would more often as a gentleman but idk (I’m recovering from driving phobia, I would be curious what their driving journeys looked like. Were they eager to get behind the wheel, or anxious?”

Who is most likely to carry the other?

Damien (for reference)

Nicknames?

For Damien: Dames, Dee, Damienuh, babe, honey, dude, man, idiot, nerd, weeb (probably)

For Shayne: Shay, Shanyé, baby boy, baby bird, babe/baby, hun/honey, my guy, angel, darling (tbh, anything to get him to blush or laugh)

(bonus: scrub, dumbass, sweetheart, good boy, pet, puppy)

Who proposes?

Damien (either, but my heart says…)

Who sings along with the radio?

Both

Who worries the most?

Damien, but both

Who remembers what the other one always orders at a restaurant?

Damien

Who is embarrassed to take their clothes off in front of the other?

Both, at first

Who tops?

Damien

Who initiates kisses?

Both, mostly Damien (he’s so touchy. his love language is touch)

Who reaches for the other’s hand first?

Damien

Who is more ticklish?

Shayne

Who brings home an animal they found?

Damien

Who holds the umbrella for the other when it rains?

Damien

Who tries to playfully embarrass the other in public?

Damien

Who kills the scary bugs?

(Damien seems more KILL IT, Shayne is more well let’s at least try to release it outside)

Who asks weird questions at random in the middle of the night?

Damien

Who hogs the blankets?

Shayne

Who wants to stay in bed just a bit longer?

Damien (but both if they’re together)

Who always makes coffee for the other in the morning?

Shayne (only because he probably got up first)

Who says “I love you” first?

Damien

Who tells their friends/family about their relationship first?

Shayne is very casual about it even though his friends/family are excited, sappy and want to make it a bigger deal. Damien is nervous and makes it a bigger deal than it needs to be and feels a wave of relief after finally admitting it

Who is more likely to ask the other to dance with them?

Damien

Who cooks best?

Shayne

Who wears the other’s jacket?

Shayne

Who uses cheesy pickup lines?

Both

Who whispers inappropriate things in the other’s ear during inappropriate times?

Both

Who makes the other one laugh the most?

Damien

Who needs more reassurance?

Damien

Who would have to bail the other out of jail?

Shayne

What would be their theme song?

Rather Be or Glue Song

What do they do when they’re away from each other?

Text or call with life updates and sappy sweet nothings

Who eats the other’s uneaten pizza crusts?

Damien

Who would accidentally set the kitchen on fire while cooking?

Damien

Who would throw the other into a pool?

Shayne

Who is the morning/night person?

Shayne - morning, Damien, night

Who gives the other person cool-looking rocks?

Damien

Who is the big spoon? Who is the little spoon?

Damien - big, Shayne - little

Who talks smack when playing video games and then loses?

Shayne

Who wants to take lots of pictures of them together?

Damien (have you seen how often Shayne is on his instagram)

Who is most excited to tell their friends they’re dating?

Damien

Who still blushes when they say ‘I love you?’

Shayne

Who is the protective one?

Damien

Who likes to jump into the other person’s arms?

Shayne

Who likes to take artsy photos together?

Damien

What do they like to watch together after a long day?

Anime, probably

Who is most likely to kiss the other on the cheek?

Damien

Who is most likely to break out in a spontaneous dance?

Shayne

Who would sing a love song to the other in the car?

Damien

Who can’t help but giggle when the other compliments them?

Shayne

What do they say to one another before they go to sleep?

“I hate you” (affectionate)

Who looks at the other person like they are their world when they’re not looking?

Damien

Who would win in a pillow fight?

Shayne

Who loves to be held the most?

Shayne

Who asks the other how to spell a word?

Damien

Who loves to have the other rest their head on their chest?

Both

Who makes funny faces to make the other person laugh?

Shayne

Who puts their hand on their partner's knee while driving?

Damien

Who goofs around in the kitchen more?

Damien

How do they say “I love you” without really saying it?

Damien: “I’m proud of you”

Shayne: “Remember when…”

What would they marathon?

Anime, probably

What would their wedding song be?

Starlight by Muse

Who nuzzles into the other?

Both

Who kisses the other on the head before they go to sleep?

Damien

What position do they fall asleep in when sleeping in the same bed?

One laying on top of the other is my favorite trope, so Shayne crushing Damien

Who initiates the first kiss?

Damien

Who asks the other out on the first date?

Damien

Who gets the other out of a speeding ticket?

Shayne

Who sleeps with their dog cat when the other one is gone?

Damien

Who still has the first gift the other gave to them?

Both

Who likes to see the other wearing their sweater?

Damien

Who is the sleepy cute one?

Shayne

Who gives the other person the best cards?

Both give either funny, possibly cursed cards or extremely sentimental and heartfelt, there is no in between.

Who gives a hilarious speech at their wedding about how they met?

Damien (see: Shayne’s graduation)

Who has a vast knowledge of random facts?

Damien

Who likes to clean?

Shayne

Who would be a lovey-dovey drunk?

Shayne

Who can’t stop laughing at their own jokes?

Shayne

Who distracts the driver by being a bit too provocative in the car?

Shayne

Who is the competitive one?

Shayne (Damien’s argument: there’s no need to be competitive if you’re just good)

Who asks the other’s parents for their partner’s hand in marriage?

Damien

Who puts their cold hands/feet on the other?

Shayne

Who worries more about the other?

Damien

Who is more likely to lock themselves out of the house?

Shayne (Damien can just lock pick, and has facetimed Shayne to teach him before)

Who would slide down the hall in their socks?

I can picture both doing this. nerds

Who is always horny and will have sex at any time, at any place?

(…both)

Who likes to walk around the house naked and who tells the other to go put some clothes on?

1) Shayne 2) Damien

Who takes photos of the other while they sleep?

Damien

Who likes flower crowns more?

Shayne

Who is the meme lover?

Both

Who has to teach the other how to fold a fitted sheet?

Shayne

Who’s afraid of thunderstorms?

Neither, but on a sensitive day, Damien, which of course Shayne is receptive of and gives extra affection and care

Who cries over the ASPCA commercials?

Damien

Who considers the other the love of their life?

#ship questions #did this on my phone at 5am #shaymien #rpf #smosh ships #shipping #txt #prompts #shayne #damien #p

[jamesunderwater]

Limited Vocabulary

based on the @jilymicrofics prompt, urge. word count: 2,625. NSFW.

They’d been lucky to make it out in one piece—though one could argue that James was hardly in one piece, exactly, with a deep gash through his forearm and cuts from debris peppering his face. Lily had been on the other side of the pub, battling with two masked death eaters simultaneously, heart pounding, desperately trying not to think about James on the other side of the building. Last she’d seen, he was fighting off an attack from both sides, but was managing very well considering. If he hadn’t been such a talented spellcaster Lily would have been more worried, but she’d been in enough battles with him to know that James could hold his own against two opponents with fairly little effort. She, on the other hand, gifted as she was, didn’t excel nearly as well at dueling, and needed to keep her mind on the present moment in order to not be blasted across the room…or worse. Every time they were in a battle it was clear that their adversaries were much more interested in ending her life than they were anyone else’s, especially if her partner was a pureblood. This fact had resulted in many fights between her and her friends, especially James, Sirius, and Marlene, all of whom felt it was their responsibility to focus on defending her in a fight. She’d finally convinced them to focus on their own battles by emphasizing that if they died for her benefit, she’d never forgive them. And they were all much more likely to make it out alive if they kept focused on their own fight.

Which is why she’d been being a hypocrite as she worried over James in the middle of sending a hex toward one of her assailants, meanwhile ducking a spell from the other. She’d just begun to gain some focus back when a loud crash echoed across the room, and in the moment she turned to see what had happened, a spell from one of her opponents flew past her head, missing her by inches. She didn’t care—across the room from her lay James, crumpled just beyond a large pile of rubble. She darted to him, ducking spells while throwing her own, aware that it was now four against one, aware that she was probably moments away from both of their deaths. When she made it to James’s side, a brief thought crossed her mind that the fates must have some stake in keeping them alive. In the next breath, she was apparating them to the safe house they’d been assigned in case of emergency, which had already been protected by wards to keep them from being followed. 

James was still unconscious when they appeared on the floor of the dark living room. Lily felt his chest for a heartbeat, the rise and fall of it assuring her enough to take a breath. She lit the sconces in the room with a flick of her wand, ignited the fireplace beside them with another, and then got to work. She’d been apprenticing as a healer for nearly a year when the war took a turn for the worse, and it was no longer safe for her to be out in public. But in that time she’d learned enough to be one of the most useful members of the Order, at least when it came to tending the wounded. By the time James awoke, she’d fully healed the cuts on his face, and his arm was tightly wrapped. It would be sore for a day or two, but would mend fine. 

“What…?” He looked around, groggy, until his eyes landed on hers in the firelight. “Are you alright?” His voice pitched up in worry, and James sat up against the cushions of the couch, placing an arm on hers. 

She laughed at him, her throat suddenly tight. “I’m fine, obviously—I’m the one sitting up, aren’t I?”

He didn’t seem to find this funny, only breathing out a sigh of relief. He looked around the room, taking in that they were safe now. “You got us out?”

She nodded, and swallowed hard as he stared at her. She’d never gotten used to the way he looked at her, with such admiration, with such love and tenderness. They’d been through so much together now, and yet nothing had happened beyond those looks. She never fully understood why, except that the war kept everyone so scared that the idea of letting oneself feel anything hopeful and good felt unnatural, or somehow unkind to those who they’d lost. Marlene had told her that she deserved happiness even in the darkness, that they all did, but somehow reaching for it felt impossible, scarier than being in battle against multiple death eaters. She could hardly stand to lose the love she already had—the idea of having anymore, and risking losing it too…it didn’t feel like a bridge she was ready to cross.

Read the rest on AO3.

#jily smut #jily #jily fic #jily fanfic #jily fanfiction #james potter #james potter smut #jple #jple smut #lily evans #lily evans smut #the marauders #the marauders fanfiction #the marauders fanfic #order!lily #mwpp era #mwpp #jple fanfic #jple fic #jily angst #jple angst #angsty smut #jily fluff #kind of #jily microfic #jily microfic* #my writing

[soopersara]

Flow

Zutara Week 2023: Day 7

Read it on AO3 | @zutaraweek

The Fire Nation royal guards capture a spy near the palace, and with all his other family gone, Zuko is left to determine the consequences.

A spy was found at the western gates.

Father is gone right now, off meeting with some general or other at one of the outposts on the southern end of the Fire Nation. And with Azula out for a few days with her friends, it’s only natural that Zuko would be the next highest authority. That he is the only person the guards can turn to for orders at the moment.

Still, he feels small. He feels stupid.

As he hurries down the hall, he finds himself glancing sideways. The guard who first brought the news is one of the oldest in Father’s service, and one of very few who occasionally makes allowances for Zuko’s youth and ignorance. Not trustworthy, exactly, but at least not desperate enough for Father’s approval to make an immediate report if Zuko stumbles or asks questions.

“What exactly am I supposed to do?” Zuko asks, half hoping that his voice will be too quiet for the man to hear.

He isn’t so lucky. The guard looks at him like it’s strange that he doesn’t somehow find this both obvious and easy. “You’ll authorize the sentence. We all know the law when it comes to spies. Me and the other men just need someone to sign off on the execution.”

It may not be a complicated process, but the simplicity doesn’t make it easier. Zuko has never had this kind of authority before. He shouldn’t even have it now. Even if there is a spy here, even if his life is in danger because of that, he doesn’t think he can stomach an execution. Not at his hands. Maybe not at anyone else’s either.

His doubts only intensify when the doors open to a prisoner crouched on the floor and flanked on either side by guards. The spy—if she is a spy at all—is just a girl.

“Well, Your Highness? All we need is your order.”

Zuko thinks he might be sick. The girl is engulfed by long, dark robes, and her face is hidden beneath a broad hat and veil, but all the many layers of fabric don’t hide the fact that she is young. Smaller than him, and probably terrified. 

He can’t do this. He won’t.

“Prince Zuko?”

He swallows hard. He will not hurt this girl. And neither will anyone else, if he can help it.

“We don’t know why she’s here,” Zuko says a little harshly. Though he is the highest authority left in the palace today, he still has to tread lightly. “Spies don’t work alone. Don’t you know that? I’m not giving any orders until we have a better idea of what’s going on here. Understood?”

The guards seem briefly taken aback. They’ve undoubtedly heard the same tone before, but always from Azula or Father, not Zuko. But he steels himself against their shock and presses on.

“Did any of you even bother to ask her any questions?”

One of the men shrugs. “Of course we tried. She wouldn’t say anything.” He fixes Zuko with a stern look. “The Fire Lord doesn’t like us to waste our time on uncooperative prisoners.”

He could have guessed as much. Thankfully, Father isn’t here to give his opinion.

“Then don’t waste your time. If you’re so busy that you can’t question a prisoner properly, then leave. I can’t think of anything more important to do, so I’ll do it myself.”

The guards exchange glances, clearly uncertain. Even with Father and Azula gone, Zuko isn’t meant to have this type of authority. He isn’t meant to overrule the guards, but now that they’ve asked him to involve himself, it may be too late to push him out.

At least that’s what he hopes.

“Go on,” he presses. “Clearly your time is too valuable for this.”

The guards exchange looks again, and it’s all that Zuko can do to hold his gaze steady. He doesn’t have the ruthlessness to back up his bluster the way that Father and Azula do, and the guards all know that. They have to. He just has to hope that they aren’t willing to take any risks arguing with royalty.

It takes longer than he likes, but one by one, the guards retreat out the door, leaving him alone with the girl still crouched in the middle of the floor.  

Zuko exhales and rubs his forehead. Unless he’s badly mistaken, they won’t have gone far—probably no farther than the corridor—but that should be all the space he needs to think. To figure out how exactly he can hope to get away with letting her live.

She can’t stay here, he knows that much already. If the girl is still here when Father returns, she’ll be executed anyway. Which means that he’ll have to get her out of the palace one way or another. That should be fine. With the guards presumably watching the door, he won’t be able to lead her out through the usual corridors, but he knows the tunnels and passages under the palace well enough to make up for that.

The real trouble, he suspects, will be in convincing her to follow him in the first place.

The girl moves her head over so slightly, apparently looking toward the door. Probably calculating her chances of escape now that there’s only one person left to watch her. Not good, he knows. With her hands still bound behind her back, she can’t possibly overpower him, much less the men still waiting outside.

Taking a step back, he crouches, trying to catch a glimpse of her face beneath her hat. Then, when she jerks her head downward as though anticipating his curiosity, he speaks as soft and gentle as he can. “What’s your name?”

She gives a short, bitter laugh. “Just how stupid do you think I am?”

Though he knows she won’t see it, Zuko shrugs. “You were careless enough to get caught. I don’t know if that makes you stupid.”

With a sharp exhalation, she shakes her head.

Fine. That was a long shot to begin with. “Are you the same Painted Lady who helped all those people in Jang Hui?”

Though she doesn’t answer, she seems to stiffen ever so slightly. For him, that is confirmation enough.

“My father was furious when we got the news. Not that that’s anything new. He’s always furious about something.”

“If that’s supposed to be a threat, give it up. I’m not scared of you or of him.”

There is something familiar about her voice, but Zuko can’t immediately place it. Hastily, he shakes his head.

“No. That’s not—I’m not trying to threaten you.” He exhales, steadying himself. “What I’m saying is—Father isn’t here right now. And no matter what he says, I’m glad someone was there to make a difference. I’d like to do more myself, but there’s only so much I can get away with when the guards are looking over my shoulder every minute of the day.”

The girl neither speaks nor moves, but Zuko senses a shift in her all the same. It’s almost like she’s listening more intently now.

“The truth is—I don’t really care why you’re here. The law says that spies are supposed to be executed, and right now, I’m the only one who can approve that. But I won’t do it. I don’t care if you came here specifically to kill me. No one is ever going to die because of me if I can help it.” His shoulders feel lighter now that he’s said it, and in the wash of relief that follows, a burst of clarity breaks through as well.

He can’t kill for Father. He can’t hurt people for Father. And although he’s been fighting against the natural conclusion for a long time, he finally has to admit it. If he can’t do what Father wants from him, then there just isn’t a place here for him. One way or another, Zuko has to leave the palace.

It surprises him just how comfortable that realization feels.

The girl looks up, and for the briefest moment, Zuko catches a glimpse of her face. “So what are you going to do to me, then?”

For a few seconds, Zuko can’t speak. He knows her. Her hair is covered, and her face is streaked with crimson paint, but he would recognize her anywhere.

Katara.

He swallows hard, grateful beyond words when she looks away again. If he had to meet her eyes, he doesn’t think he would be able to speak at all.

“Nothing. I’m not planning to do anything to you.”

He can’t. The fact that it’s her doesn’t change that. If anything, it pushes him into action faster.

Mind made up, Zuko circles around behind her to begin loosening the bindings on her wrists. Though she tries to jerk away from him, Zuko doesn’t stop. “There are passages out of the palace. Secret ones. If I show you the way, no one will know you’re gone for hours.” And that, hopefully, will be enough time for him to decide where he needs to go too.

Unsurprisingly, she ignores his hand when he offers to help her up. There is enough hesitance in her movement that he suspects her legs have probably fallen asleep, but she stands as tall as she can, somehow an imposing presence, despite the fact that she only reaches the level of his nose. “Why should I trust you?”

Though the answer comes automatically, it still surprises him. “You shouldn’t.” Then, before she can take that as an excuse to flee straight into the waiting arms of the palace guards, he adds, “But everyone else here is willing to kill you. There’s nothing worse that I could do.” Again, he extends a tentative hand in her direction. “You don’t have to trust me. I probably wouldn’t if I were you. But since you are already here, it doesn’t seem like you have very many choices.”

For a few seconds, Katara doesn’t respond. Clearly she isn’t happy with the suggestion, but after a brief pause, she sighs. “Fine. Where am I supposed to go from here?”

⁂

The tunnels and passages beneath the palace seem smaller, narrower than he remembers. Zuko can’t be certain whether that’s because he’s grown since he last explored them or because Katara is there beside him. In any case, she stays closer by his side than he expects, probably hoping that the proximity will keep him from catching a clear glimpse of her face.

“Does the royal family spend a lot of time sulking around underground?” she asks after a few minutes of near silence.

Surprised, he glances her way, but all he can see in the darkness is the dim silhouette of her hat. Just as she probably hopes.

She’s bold, he has to give her that much. In her position, most people probably wouldn’t be prying for information. But Katara isn’t most people, and he can’t help but respect her boldness.

“We don’t make a habit of eating or sleeping down here, if that’s what you mean,” he says. “I haven’t been down here for a long time.”

“Then how do you expect me to believe that you know where you’re going? All these tunnels look the same, and the last thing I need is to end up stuck down here with you.”

The venom in her tone is unmistakable, and Zuko briefly wonders whether that would change if she knew that he recognized her. If caring enough to pull a former enemy out of harm’s way might be enough to earn him a scrap of trust.

Probably not, he decides. Katara doesn’t trust him, doesn’t have any reason to think his intentions might be good. Not after Ba Sing Se. No, right now, she probably thinks that his ignorance is the only thing keeping her safe. If he admits to knowing her, she will probably assume that he’s leading her into peril worse than what she faced at the palace.

“I have a good memory and a decent sense of direction,” he answers. “I was down here enough times as a kid to find my way out again.”

So long as Father hasn’t locked off the more obscure sections of the tunnels in the past three years, that should still be true. Even this far below ground, he can still feel the direction of the sun, and it isn’t difficult to keep himself pointed toward the exit in the western forest.

Sure enough, he finds his way to the long, narrow passage that stretches out beneath the entire city, and though Katara hesitates, she follows him around the corner.

“Where exactly are you taking me?” she asks, her tone more uncertain than before.

He can’t blame her for that. While the rest of the tunnels are more or less smooth and deliberate in their construction, this section is entirely rough-hewn, looking more like a natural cave than anything else.

“Out of the city.” He doesn’t know if she’s familiar enough with its layout for a more detailed explanation to mean anything to her, but he studies the contours of the blackened stone around them all the same. “We should be coming close to the rim of the caldera by now. The tunnel feels a lot longer than it is, but it's pretty much a straight shot from here.”

By the flickering light of the flame hovering over his hand, it’s difficult to judge her reaction, but it seems reasonable enough to guess that she is neither pleased nor entirely convinced by that answer. Still, she hasn’t tried to flee from him yet.

“Why are you doing this?” she presses after a pause. “Those guards know that I was here. When they find out that I’m missing, they’ll know it was because of you.”

Her voice positively burns, and Zuko wonders whether it’s anger or fear or something else entirely. Whether she thinks that he means to harm her or not.

Since there is nothing he can say to convince her otherwise, he doesn’t try. Instead, he focuses on her last sentence.

“I know that. And I’m sure those three will spread the word to everyone else.”

“So what happens to a member of the royal family who—loses a prisoner?”

This time when he glances her way, he finds her face tilted upward, and her blue eyes pierce straight through to his core. His breath catches briefly in his throat. Can she really believe that he doesn’t remember her?

“Execution, probably,” he says, forcing his eyes forward again. “I don’t think it’s ever happened before, but aiding a spy is definitely considered treason.”

“And—wherever you’re taking me is somehow worth that?”

“I don’t plan on getting myself killed, if that’s what you’re saying.” He has to duck ever so slightly to pass beneath a low-hanging rock. “The guards can’t do anything to me on their own. Only a higher royal can punish the crown prince, and Father isn’t supposed to be back for three more days.”

From the corner of his eye, he watches for a reaction. Sure enough, Katara stiffens slightly, apparently recognizing the significance of the date.

“They don’t tell me much if they can help it,” he continues. “But it sounds like there’s a solar eclipse coming, and Father wants to be here in time to face the Avatar if he shows up.”

She stiffens again, but this time, it isn’t just a slight change in her posture. This time, she stops walking entirely. She probably thinks that the Avatar’s plan to take advantage of the eclipse is a secret. She’s probably been hoping that a combination of surprise and the lack of firebending on that day will be enough to bring the city to its knees. He has probably just broken her hopes for a quick end to the war.

If that keeps her and her friends from running blind into battle, though, he sees nothing wrong with puncturing that particular hope. It’s better if she and her friends don’t run headfirst into a fight they can’t win.

After a considerable pause, Katara composes herself enough to press on, apparently hoping that he won’t notice her distress. “So what are you planning to do, then?”

“Then—it doesn’t really matter.” He angles his shoulders just enough to hint that he’s ready to keep walking as soon as she joins him. “I’m not planning to be here on the day of the eclipse.”

“What?” Her composure cracks again, and she jogs a few steps to catch up. “What is that supposed to mean?”

He hasn’t thought about it long enough to have a real plan yet, and still somehow, the words come of their own accord.

“I shouldn’t have come back here in the first place,” he begins, trying his best not to look her way. “Being home is nothing like I hoped, and I really should have seen that coming. But I didn’t, so—” He exhales, long and slow, to steady himself before he can continue, and the flame hovering over his hand swells. “I guess it's lucky that Father isn’t in the city right now. Even if the guards are sending him a message about how I’m up to no good as we speak, he couldn’t get back to the palace before this time tomorrow. At least that gives me a little time to pack and get out.”

Katara doesn’t respond immediately, and emboldened, he goes on.

“I’ve been thinking about the Avatar recently. About how if he’s planning to face my father on the day of the eclipse, he probably hasn’t learned any firebending yet. And—maybe if I could find a way to warn him and his friends, he might change his mind. Maybe he’ll decide not to take on a fight he can’t win.”

“And then what?” Bitterness has taken root in her voice again, and her footsteps grow more forceful. “The only alternative he would have is learning firebending. Who’s going to teach him that? You?”

“I could. If he and his friends would let me.” He chances a glimpse in her direction. “I’ve made my share of mistakes, but maybe I could try to make things right that way.”

Katara scoffs quietly, and for a second, he almost believes that she’s put the pieces together. That she knows he recognizes her and is trying his best to make amends in the only way he can. But then she squares her shoulders and keeps her eyes fixed straight ahead. “I’d think of a backup plan if I were you. Most people with sense aren’t going to want anything to do with a Fire Nation prince.”

“I know that. But I’m sure most of my own people will want me dead by this time tomorrow, so I might have to take my chances anyway.”

It’s difficult to tell whether some part of her believes him, or if she’s simply done talking, but in either case, Katara goes quiet. And although the tunnel stretches on longer than he remembers, though the tension in the air grows almost unbearable at times, Zuko has little choice but to do the same. He's said his piece for now. If she doesn’t believe him, no amount of words is likely to change her mind.

When at last they reach the door to the outside world, he allows the flame to blink out and throws all his weight, all his strength into opening the latch, then sliding the immensely heavy door aside. Though the sun has dipped below the horizon, the light that spills into the tunnel feels almost blinding. It takes a few seconds of blinking before his eyes adjust, and he finds Katara still beside him, blinking against the brightness.

When her eyes seem to adjust, Katara shoots a wary look his way before venturing out into the balmy evening air. Zuko, meanwhile, doesn’t dare to go much farther.

“What are you playing at?” she demands, whirling back to face him once she’s well out of his reach. “I know who you are. Don’t pretend that you’ve secretly been on the right side all along.”

She still doesn’t think he knows her, that much is clear. Zuko sighs. “I haven’t been on your side before. Not deliberately. But now—people change their minds sometimes.”

A scoff. “Well, then good luck convincing the Avatar and his friends that you’re not faking this change of heart. If you’ve changed your mind once, you can do it again.”

As she begins to turn away, to make her retreat into the forest, an odd sense of calm and certainty comes over him. Even in the face of her anger and mistrust, his decision solidifies. He’s leaving the palace soon. Before the end of the night, if he moves quickly enough. And when he does, beside her is precisely where he wants to be.

“Katara.”

She freezes in her tracks.

There are a million things he could say, a million that he wants to. But every question, every apology dies on his lips when she turns back far enough for him to see the blank space at the hollow of her throat.

“I don’t know if you were wearing your necklace when you got captured this time,” he says. “I need to go back long enough to pack up some supplies, so if you’ve lost it, I can try to bring it back to you.”

Her hand flies up to her neck, and even under the veil, he sees her eyes widen.

“I am leaving home,” he adds, his voice both softer and firmer than before. “And I do want to help. I’d like that to mean working with you and the Avatar to end all the fighting, but if you won’t have me, I’ll find another way.”

She is quiet long enough for him to step back into the dark of the tunnel, long enough for him to take hold of the latch and start hauling the door closed again.

Long enough for him to nearly miss it when she says his name.

“Zuko—don’t waste your time.”

He freezes, heart sinking clear down to his stomach.

But Katara isn’t finished. “I left my necklace back at camp. Don’t put yourself in danger looking for it.” And with that, she turns away.

#zutara #zutara fanfiction #zutara week #zutaraweek #zutara week 2023 #zutaraweek2023 #Flow #soopersara's scribbles

[eustassslut]

You asked for yandere kid pirates headcannons? I’ll give you yandere kid pirates headcannons!

♥️Kid uses those collars/bracelets that are put on with a lock and you will never see the key as long as you live because he likes having something on you at all times that he can use to tug you around with using his devil fruit♥️Wire definitely likes to toy with you by coming up behind you and holding a knife to your throat or a gun to your head because even though you both know he’s skilled enough with weapons to not cause any accidental harm he still likes the way you can’t help but shake with fear as to how far he’s planning on going with it♥️Heat seems like someone who would pull a trick such as letting you stay with him when the others are scaring you, but what are you going to give him in exchange for being so kind? He thinks maybe he’d be inclined to let you stay a bit longer in exchange for perhaps just a kiss? Or would you rather him throw you back out to the wolves?♥️You mentioned Killer being one of the people who controls what you wear, and he would probably enjoy dressing you up and style you like his own little doll just so he can order you to sit still while he takes plenty of photos to use as both a shaming tactic as well as new material for his spank bank (though he’d never admit that part out loud)♥️lastly I could see at least one of you getting their Jolly Roger tattooed on you either on an intimate place like a tramp stamp or right above the pubic bone or somewhere that every one can see like the side of the neck or upper back depending on who ultimately makes the best case for their preferred placement♥️

anon, these are delicious headcanons.

TW: drugging, forced dolification, harrassment, knife/trident usage to cause harm and blood

when you're first brought onto the ship, Kid forces you to wear thick metal handcuffs that can only be unlocked with his devil fruit or if you cut your hands off (which he doubts you would do just to get away from them). but as you're around longer and he grows more attached, Kid starts up a collection of handmade necklaces and bracelets for you. the collar you mentioned anon would be silver and has various small red stones, like rubies, intwined within them. if it wasn't a reminder of his cruelty and being trapped on this ship, it would be quite romantic. thus, the collar has to remain on you at all times unless you need to shower (in which case he's there just watching) and the only time he brings out the key is when you're unconscious.

Wire is cruel, arguably more cruel than Kid himself when it comes to his punishments and fantasies. he delights in nothing more than watching the pure terror in your eyes and the way your knees shake as he tortures you. he'll go to drastic measures to get his desired reactions and nothing works better than the panicked pleas that are offered to him the second he holds his trident to your neck, just pricking the skin and trailing small lines of bloods down it. the creepy bastard will respond with just licking up the blood and laughing to himself when you legs give way underneath you and he has to catch you. Wire knows you hate it when he torments you with his weapon collection, but he doesn't really care.

it's easy to overlook the way Heat uses the situation you're trapped in to his advantage. after all, with the way you're so focused on keeping yourself safe around the others it natural that you would underestimate Heat. Heat who is always more kind to you than the others, Heat that tells Wire to knock it off when he's being so cruel to you in front of him, reminds Killer that you need to eat and brings you gifts of things he knows you'd like. it's only fair after all he does that you thank him by accepting his advances. it'll start small, with him asking for a small kiss on the lips but each time you hide out in his room he'll ask for more and more.

the first time Kid deemed you well behaved enough for your own room (fitted with a lock that only they had the keys to and a transponder snail camera in the corner), Killer had forced you over to the large wardrobe in the corner. full of a wide selection clothes that Killer had tailored to fit your measurements which he took whilst you were drugged out. the clothes are expensive either stolen or handmade, things you wouldn't have been able to afford before. but with this new wardrobe and your own space comes rules. one of these being that Killer gets to pick what you wear for the day. so everyday you have to sit pretty in the room and try on every single item handed to you whilst he helps because "you're too weak to do that yourself, give it to me". then you have to let Killer pose you so he can take lots and lots of photos. except, some of those outfits he has you try on are less than appropriate and he delights in the embarrassed, shy looks you give the camera, making a mental note to use those photos later as he gets off. but be careful, if you don't listen to him, those photos could end up anywhere and with anyone.

now for the tattoo of the Jolly Roger, i think it would be suggested by either Kid or Wire. they're the only two who would originally dream up some way to permanently mark you as theirs and give you a reminder of your new life. for Wire, it would be a way of torturing you with a permanent reminder. for Kid, it would because of his possessiveness and a need to mark you for others who may want to look at you to long. but since Wire and Kid would bring the idea to the table, Heat and Killer would take it upon themselves to choose the spot. they'd be torn between choosing your back or your hip, wanting the tattoo to be in a spot where they can choose if people see it or not. eventually they'd probably choose one of your hips and pick an area where it won't hurt as much or risk leaving permanent damage (Heat's request). i can see Wire originally wanting you to be awake for it, but Killer having absolutely none of that since he doesn't want to deal with you struggling and potentially ruining it. so you'd probably get drugged with Heat sitting beside you the entire time, holding your hand and reassuring you that you'll be fine.

#if you have more please don't hesitate to send them in #eustass kid x reader #wire x reader #heat x reader #killer x reader #yandere! eustass kid x reader #eustass captain kid #wire op #wire one piece #yandere! wire #heat op #heat one piece #yandere! heat #yandere! killer #yandere! killer x reader #yandere! wire x reader #killer op #killer one piece #yandere! heat x reader #yandere! Wire x reader

[nottapossum]

I gotta admit I do like little Blitz and little Fizz, but what about Barbie, is she a little too or is she just a neutral?

Ooo yess Barbie!!! I love her ❤️

Ty for asking! Now,

How shall I answer this without spoiling too much? Lol

Probably impossible, so let me try anyway! :D

When Barbie took the test, she mocked Blitzø and Fizz's attempts to cheat, saying that it wouldn't make a difference and it's not that big of a deal since circus folk are classified littles all the time.

And she felt there was no way for them to leave the circus anyway.

Her results came out as

60% Guardian

And

40% Middle.

A middle is a regressor who regresses to 10-14. But she only got 40% so that means she didn't need a caregiver.

(( But! I will admit she wasn't at all honest on her test due to Fizz and Blitzø scaring her, so her results basically mean nothing, lol 😆 ))

At 50%, she would require a caregiver. (Which is why Blitzø objected to letting her take the second test, worried she might get another 10% and be trapped as cash's little.) (He may have sensed her dishonesty).

However, since her time, the tests have changed, making it much harder to cheat, and more research has been done since regarding regression and how it works (in their universe).

What people have discovered is that regression can change over the years depending on the person's well-being and experience.

So if she is a middle regressor and not a little, that doesn't mean she will always be a middle.

For example!

Fizz is supposed to be 5 at the youngest but has regressed younger despite this due to feeling more comfortable around Ozzie and feeling safer to match energy with Blitzø who is much younger than he is.

So even though his results said he regresses from 5-8 he actually regresses more from 2-8 which is a longer age range than most regressors seem to have.

So it is possible for Barbie to regress more often or even younger because of what happened to her and the trauma she faced with the fire and feeling betrayed by her brother.

For Blitzø, regression was easily hidden when it had to be, and now that he feels more secure and safer, it's harder to repress it.

His little side feels safe enough to come out and cope with everything that's happening.

So perhaps if Barbie herself is a little, she would have to repress too in order to get a job and support herself. Otherwise, she'd be sent to an adoption center.

And of course, the rehab she was at wouldn't hesitate to send her there, so she'd have to repress as much as possible for her own protection.

Her plot for this isn't fully planned out yet, but I do have a few ideas on what I want to do.

But do let me know what you guys think I should do with our favorite gremlin twins. 😍

Should she be a middle? A little? Both?

Is she a pet regressor? And if she is, why is she a lizard or gecko of some kind...? 🦎

Sorry. Lol

To be honest, my idea for her backstory is probably very different from the show...so getting more comments about how inaccurate my AU is will be soo fun! Lol 😆

Like- hey. I was close enough right?! 😅

Anywayyyyzzzzzz

Give me all your ideas if you want! It'll be a bit until she's in the AU (prolly book 4 or 5) but I should at least have an idea, right?

Taglist: @todayimfour

#itty bitty imps #helluva boss age regression #helluva boss agere #age regression fanfic #little!blitzo #little!fizzarolli #ittybittyimpsq&h

[pandoratheprocrasticreator]

Observations on the Hollow Mind Portraits

Rebecca Rose has answered my wishes today by releasing HD versions of the portraits used in Hollow Mind. Here are some things I noticed:

They're churning butter <3 This is one of the pictures we saw more clearly, so there's not much to say here. Liddol bois <3

Another picture we've seen pretty clearly in the episode. Someone's already noticed that the rope trap Phillip sets to catch Caleb looks kind of like the one he set in Hollow Mind to catch the palisman monster. Parallels, I guess.

Here the boys are getting ready for a witch hunt. Again, we've seen this. The expression on Caleb's face seems more aggressive than Phillip. Guess he's older and therefore understands what the witch hunts mean better.

These boys only have one shirt and one set of overalls. Judging by the rip on Phillip's overalls, and the fact that they each only have one strap, I guess it's an indication of how poor they are. How did they even manage to get a house on their own? I doubt little boy Caleb could have built it himself. Must be an already vacant house or the townsfolk did chip in because they can excuse hanging innocent women but god forbid these two boys be homeless.

The brothers are older in here. They still have similar hairstyles, but their proportions definitely look less "baby." Phillip still has the same overalls, but Caleb either got new ones or got a new strap for it at least. They also got new boots. While in the previous picture of a witch hunt, the brothers were playing with sticks while the adults did all the work, here the brothers have a torch and a pitchfork and are going with the adults.

We can't see Phillip's face, but it's notable that Caleb looks both excited and malicious here. It's not either of the brother's faults that they were indoctrinated into a puritan society where witch hunts are okay. But this does indicate that Caleb wasn't as horrified by the witch hunts as fanon makes him out to be. I like that. I like the idea that the brothers both started out as bigots, a byproduct of their upbringing. The difference between Phillip and Caleb is that Caleb decided to change when given the chance. Phillip didn't.

We also saw this one pretty clearly but here's some more detail. They look even older here. Phillip no longer has the buttoned shirt, I think? And if this takes place right before the next picture, then Phillip has tied his hair into a ponytail as well in this scene. Plus, Caleb was holding a torch in the last witch hunt, but now he's holding a pitchfork. So this is probably a different hunt. Moreover, Evelyn's fire looks like it has a purple-pink hue? Maybe that's just the color palette.

And here it proves that Caleb entered the Boiling Isles through the gate in the graveyard. From what I can see, part of it was also a lake back in the 1600s, though it was definitely more flooded in Thanks To Them. While Caleb is rushing in, (which is definitely reminiscent of the scene where Luz entered the portal door) Phillip seems to be lagging behind.

If this is the first time Phillip entered the Boiling Isles, then there was definitely a timeskip between this picture and the last. His hair is longer, he looks older, he has a bag and a journal, and he's wearing a whole new outfit. This looks like part of the outfit Phillip wore in Elsewhere and Elsewhen. He isn't wearing his brother's jacket, though, but he may be holding it with the arm that isn't shown well in the picture. I guess after Caleb ran through the portal, it closed and Phillip was trapped on the human side? And somehow, he managed to go through the portal again after a timeskip. He still looks young here. But more like in his late teens than early teens like in the last few pictures.

Not sure what order these pictures should have come in, but this happened a lot later than the last pictures. Phillip's hair is already fading from brown to blond. Perhaps a side effect of palisman magic? Or maybe he's just graying weirdly.

I've seen people point out this picture as Phillip misremembering "Luzura and Dirtrude" but now that we have more detail, they...really don't look like them. They're wearing nothing remotely similar to what Luz and Lilith wore in that episode. Plus, they both have their palismen. The only similarity is that one is tall with black hair and the other is short and has brown-ish skin. But they're both obviously demons. I assume these are just some followers he's trying to brainwash.

(Also, it's funny that they had black garbage bags even in the 1600s in the Boilins Isles lol)

Phillip is going Sonic the Werehog on Caleb and his wife! I guess this means Evelyn did have brown hair. Unfortunate, because I kind of wanted the Clawthorne sisters to have inherited their red hair from Evelyn. Also, it looks like both Caleb and Evelyn were in possession of The Hair Skrungly. I wish Eda and Lilith also had it.

This one's also really commonly talked about. Nothing much to add here just Phillip being outraged that his bro is slutting it up with a hot witch I guess.

This one's also commonly talked about. What I'm unsure on is when all this happened. Phillip's beard is around the same length in the last few pictures so I assume at around the same time. But then, what? Did he see his brother with Evelyn and get mad, making the curse flare up, and after Caleb hugged it all out of him he left, only to come back later to kill Evelyn? Or did his curse flare up during the fight? I love those angsty fanarts where Caleb's trying to hug Phillip only to get stabbed. Also, why is Evelyn facing her husband, not Phillip? This is commonly thought to be Caleb trying to introduce his wife to his brother, so it would be weird for her to stand like that if that's the case.

:((((((((( But also, where are they? Are they in Caleb and Evelyn's house? Why are they in a forest later, then? Maybe I just read too many comics of this scene where Caleb died in his house. They've probably been in a forest the whole time. But now that we have more detail, Phillip is very clearly not looking at Caleb, but to the side, where Evelyn would have been standing previously. Guess it's pretty much confirmed that Phillip wasn't trying to kill Caleb, but Evelyn. Also other people have mentioned this but Caleb fighting his brother to save his wife, using the knife he used to carve his brother's mask???? :'''''''')

Again, when did this happen? Looking at it again, I feel like Phillip isn't even cursed at this point. At least, the curse isn't flaring up here. He's not goopified at all like in the show. You can even still see his sleeve. I think here, and the other picture where he looked like this, are just him looking extra demonic bc of how much he wanted to kill Evelyn. The picture where he's charging at Caleb and Evelyn looks like the background is on fire. And the couple is even positioned the same as the picture where Caleb is trying to "introduce" Evelyn to Phillip. Phillip wasn't out of control due to the curse in here, I don't think. It's lighting, plus dramatic effect that he looks like this. He found out where Caleb has been, flew into a rage and tried to kill Evelyn, and Caleb tried to hug him and calm him down, because his brother loved him anyway...

...and in return, Phillip kills him. Caleb is posed the same way as the Boiling Isles is. Looking at the reflection in the knife, Phillip also hasn't been punched in the nose by Lilith yet, either. Guess those bones we see in Phillip's lab in Elsewhere and Elsewhen really were Caleb's. And also Phillip has already long since started his descent to madness by the time he met Luz and Lilith. Kind of weird to think that they may have run into one of Caleb and Evelyn's kids running around in that episode, if they happened to travel a bit beyond Bonesborough.

We've seen this picture too but goddamn, they really did this over Caleb's dead body. Before I didn't agree with the idea that Evelyn gave Phillip his curse, because of the pictures we saw of him in black and having glowing eyes while Caleb was still around. But if All That was indeed for dramatic effect, then yeah, I believe the theory now! Evelyn Clawthorne still fucking up Phillip 350 years after the fact.

So with Flora Desplora's appearance in Elsewhere and Elsewhen, her appearance here, and her name on the book Bill the titan trapper was reading in Edge of the World, I'm certain she was meant to be more important. Again, while I'm pretty sure The Shortening was announced after Eda's Requiem was finished, with how cartoons are produced, I wouldn't be surprised if they already had work done for episodes up to Reaching Out. It would explain the Azura B-plot in Any Sport in a Storm, the Edric B-plot in Reaching out when they couldn't give Emira a B-plot elsewhere to balance it out, the implication that Warden Wrath and other EC members were suspicious about the Day of Unity, and of course, Flora Desplora's existence. They probably established all of this expecting to have more episodes to explore it. But they got shortened and had to cut some follow up episodes. But they weren't given more resources to rewrite the old episodes to not include any plot threads they couldn't follow up on.

Flora Desplora didn't need a whole backstory and relationship with Lilith, as well as a whole character design, to serve her purpose in the plot. She just needed to be someone Lilith knew in the EC, who was doing better than Lilith was, and rile her up enough to do the whole time travel thing. Lilith already has a track record of mentoring multiple EC members-to-be. They could have had a character say they're her old student and accidentally rile her up. They could have done that with Steve. But originally, I guess they wanted to set up Flora Desplora to use her later.

We already saw this picture too, of Belos mutilating his ear to look more pointed. But now that it's clearer uh...that's...that's his ear floating in the sink right there! He's a lot more blond than some other pictures, so I guess this is later into his conquest. But the green streak across his face isn't as big so I guess it isn't THAT late? Also, the mirror and sink look pretty fancy, so did he already have a castle by then?

Here he is, carving some glyph combos onto his arm. He's bleeding green here, which I guess would be from Evelyn's curse? Either that, or the color palette, or the knife is rusty and Belos got tetanus after this. We never found out if the curse or these glyphs were responsible for his goopy appearance.

He's snorting a palisman! This is still pretty early on in his journey, since his hair is still brown and his beard is shorter. In fact, it's only slightly longer than it was when Evelyn cursed him. Maybe this is when he discovers that palisman magic can help his curse?

Ah, the Golden Guard graveyard. This was the guard in Belos's first flashback in Hollow Mind, where he blew up that town. Look at that collar. This Golden Guard's staff has been shattered, and he's probably being killed by Belos's own staff, red magic and all. Funnily enough, this Guard didn't have a staff in the flashback. Guess Belos made one for him at some point.

Here's Belos's lab to make grimwalkers. Notice the ribcage in the background, probably Caleb's. I guess it's confirmed that you can use fragments of bone instead of just one whole bone, since some of the ribs are snapped. Guess Belos really did do the Biblical thing like some people said, where he used Caleb's rib to make a grimwalker. In fact, based on his outfit, this may have been one of the first grimwalkers he made. He probably ran out of rib bones by the time Hunter came around.

People speculated that this Golden Guard was Darius's predecessor, who was likely petrified in the public ceremony that Kikimora mentioned happened 30 years ago in Young Blood, Old Souls. However, this Guard's outfit is the same as the one who was with Belos in the mountains. Phillip seems to have ditched his journal by this point, so Belos definitely knew the petrification glyph. This Guard also got a staff at some point when he didn't have on in the Hollow Mind flashback.

Yo it's the guy with the really wild hair! You know, the one we saw as a hallucination in For the Future! Not much to say about him. He looks polite. Maybe HE was Darius's predecessor. He definitely has the Clawthorne genes with how his hair looks.

Portal door! I don't think I actually saw this picture when I watched Hollow Mind? Guess I just missed it. Me and most of the fandom lol.

And lastly, another golden guard. He looks like he's from Gurren Lagann lol. Maybe HE is Darius's predecessor. He's also being killed by Belos's red magic, it seems.

I think that's all the pictures? Feel free to chime in with anything that I didn't notice. These portraits kind of recontextualizes some of the fanon around the Wittebanes, I think.

#shut up pandora #the owl house #toh #hollow mind #emperor belos #phillip wittebane #the golden guard #caleb wittebane #evelyn clawthorne #analysis #toh theory #kind of?

[kalainthecanoe]

Little Ficlet that I may or may not be pursuing once Trophy and Wolves are done:

Post-War, back to Harry Potter Universe, but an AU for obvious reasons.

XxX

Remus doesn't know why he saved Albus's murderer.

He saw Harry and followed him, and he could smell the blood and sour rotting flesh from a venom infection from the doorway. Severus Snape was choking on his own blood and he acted before he could stop himself. Spells flew, one right after the other. Over and over again he casted even though he could see that Snape had already given up on his life. He released his memories for Harry to scramble to pick up, but Remus didn't let him go.

It's probably vindictive; he wants Snape to have to see his trial. He wants him to face what he's done and pay for it. Death is too good for him, too unfair for the man he had once trusted. He had felt personally betrayed by the news of Severus defecting to the dark side, because he had vouched for him far longer than anyone else. Everyone had given up on him, but Remus couldn't. Not until Albus died.

Keeping him alive is like a form of torture, but Remus doesn't stop to think about that. He stabilised him as much as he could before he aparated them away. He didn't think much about where he was going, just that he needed a place with a bed and a healer. Myrradin's Town would have to be good enough.

He startled the poor healer terribly when he demanded her strongest antivenin, but he refused to tell her who the patient was. Thankfully he had enough change in his pocket to pay her. The room above the bookstore used to be his, and the owner told him he was always welcome there. He couldn't take advantage of the owner's generosity for longer than a half a year, so he ended up leaving even though they urged him to stay. He was grateful that the offer still stood firm, otherwise he'd have no where to bring the half-dead Death Eater.

What was he doing? He should be back on the battlefield, helping the other order members. Instead he was playing nursemaid to someone whom anyone else would have left for dead. He should have contacted Dora and let her know, but he didn't want to risk it. If he took Snape to St. Mungo's, there was a chance they'd let him die. He wasn't about to harbour a fugitive for nothing.

He had to run out twice more for healing potions, and the healer was highly suspicious by the end of his second transaction. By the third she insisted she come with him to check on the patient. He told her it wasn't safe and she could get in a lot of trouble. He admitted it was a schoolmate of his, at least to garner some sympathy from her, before she stepped in the room and took stock of the pale, barely breathing, body of the Potion's Master.

"We need more than this." She looked shell shocked, but her training kicked in and she started to move as if on instinct.

"Please." Remus grabbed her arm as gently as he dared. "Don't tell anyone."

"I am a healer. I will not do anything to jeopardize the ill." She assured him, and then left to gather some more supplies.

Remus didn't even tell his wife where he disappeared to on most days. The war was over and no one knew he had left the battlefield. Only Harry, and he was too busy coming to terms with the fact that he'd finally killed Voldemort to really focus on anything else. It wasn't until Remus was called into an emergency meeting of the Order that his extracurricular activities came to light.

"The body of Severus Snape was never located." Kingsley admitted solemnly. "Given what we know now, it is difficult to know what to do with his trial."

Remus’s head had snapped up at the mention of the Potion Master's name. "'Given what we know now'?" He repeated cautiously.

"He gave his memories to Harry." Minerva spoke up with a brittle voice, looking hollowed out by the news. "He was loyal up until the very end. Albus knew he was dying and asked Severus to be the one to kill him. It was to trick the Death Eaters into thinking he was on their side."

Remus blinked at her rather stupidly, voice faint and echoing in his skull like it was coming from the end of a tunnel. "What are they going to do if they find him?"

"He's in grave danger." Kingsley confessed. "Both sides will probably want him dead. If he isn't already."

Remus was thankful his wife wasn't there, because he knew she was already losing trust in him. He didn't know why he was so willing to destroy his marriage for someone who probably would have never lifted a finger to help him if the tides were reversed. Was it remaining guilt from their childhood? Was it because they were the only two left alive from back then? Did he still have pathetic hopes to become friends, despite his epic failure during his time teaching at Hogwarts?

"I know it's a shock to hear." Minerva announced to the room at large. "It is… an unfortunate circumstance in a long line of problems we must now sort through. Any information you hear would be welcome."

Remus trusted a lot of these people with his life, but he only trusted Minerva McGonagall with this. He caught her after the meeting and immediately sequestered her away to a place they wouldn't be overheard. Harry hadn't attended this meeting, and Remus was concerned about him, too. He should be checking in on him; he was the last of his remaining guardian figures. He really was cocking this all up, wasn't he?

"I know where he is." He explained in a rush. "He's at-"

"-Show me." She cut him off gravely.

He nodded, mouth and throat dry as they left Grimmauld Place and he apparated her to Myrradin's Town.

"He's in a bad state." Remus warned her. "He has yet to regain consciousness."

"You've been looking after him yourself?" Minerva was in her Headmistress mode; tone firm and looking only to extract pertinent information.

"No. There's a healer here who I trust. Her name is Vervania Towry."

They ascended the stairs to the top of the library, the hum of magic and potions thick in the air. Minerva only hesitated for a moment to collect herself before she swung the door open to find Vervania hovering over Severus, who was very much awake, trying to kick and wriggle out of the restraints she'd placed him in.

"He's confused and combative." She looked at Remus with frustration in her eyes. He must have hit her hard in the cheek; it was red and bruised. "I don't know what he's trying to say. His throat still needs to heal more and he's making his wounds worse."

Minerva flew into motion, moving up to his side and grabbing hold of his face so he would look at her. "Severus! Calm yourself!"

He froze, but it was only for a moment before he wrenched his face away and glared into the wall away from all of them.

"Is he always this difficult?" Vervania asked in exasperation.

"Yes." Minerva and Remus agreed simultaneously.

"My name is Vervania Tawry." The healer introduced herself to Minerva, and then turned to Remus. "Do you trust her? Does he trust her?"

"I do." Remus nodded, and gave Severus a disapproving frown when he continued to ignore the three of them. "And he should."

"Then, I need to make you both aware of something very important and extremely delicate." She stepped back towards Severus and started to undo the buttons visible that she could get to under the magical restraints. He didn't do anything to stop her, but he turned to give her a particularly nasty glare.

She stepped back to reveal a large wound in his shoulder that was covered in gauze and taped onto him. That should have been his first clue; the wound wasn't healing. The second clue was the smell that had been hidden under the potent acrid scent of poison and infected flesh. The third, and most telling, was the fact that she carefully pulled back the bandages and showed them that the wound was a bite mark.

"The only reason why I think he survived is because of this." She told them seriously. "It must have been very shortly before his attempted murder. I fear he will turn on the next full moon, and if that happens I have no idea how his other wounds will fair…"

If Remus were holding something, it would have fallen from his frozen fingertips.

Severus Snape was a werewolf.

#remus x severus #kala writes #wolfprince #harry potter fandom #severus snape #remus lupin #snupin #ceoofsnupin #harry potter fanfiction #hp fanfcition #werewolf #werewolf au

[gardensnakie]

Who's better at poetry, Stranger or Sunny?

I automatically assume that Sunny would lean more onto the drawing side of art rather than writing, let alone poetry. I think it depends on how people see the character because based on Canon occurrences, Sunny takes a lot of inspiration from the outside world, like from comic books and movies when he dreams. He creates new adventures and scenarios that would lead most to assume that he would be a good writer if he practiced. In addition to his more darker thoughts, and his sad poem skill, it seems possible he'd be good at it. But the thing is, Sunny has trouble identifying how he feels, that includes speaking and even writing those feelings down. If he were to attempt to journal anything for those 4 years that he was stuck in the house, that would ruin the world he created for himself where mari didn't die. With how much he was repressing his feelings, trying to organize them into words would be a long shot. That's why Sunny turns to drawing, in can be incoherent as he wants without directly including the thing he wants to ignore. (And sunnys drawings are cool, I'm a sucker for violent, surrealism art) Even after the truth, I think sunnys poetry would be good and cool to read (I'm not sure, I'm no critic but I'd like to think sunnys poetry would be very vivid, sometimes incoherent) His poetry would be for his eyes only, I don't think he'd actively try to get better at it but use it as a way to be less stressed.

With rare access to pen and paper, Stranger has a lot to say but speaks in a cryptic way as a way to hold back. Of maybe it's because Omori/Sunny refuses to hear anything of the truth that Stranger is simply cursed to never say it out loud. Or maybe Stranger doesn't want to frighten them away and chooses his words carefully in order to keep him from retreating further into repression. I like to think about the second possibility. Stranger is capable of altering his words in a vague, but concise way to lead, question, or warn The Dreamer. He also has access to the Lost Library and practically most of the horrors residing in Blackspace. Every idea is different down there, it changes constantly, the abstract rooms and delusions is a gold mine for inspiration. Horrible inspiration, actually. (Kinda reminds me how most artists are troubled in some way, "thank you for the trauma, I need it for my art" kinda way)

Stranger had been down there longer since Sunny avoided blackspace as much as he could. Who knows? During that time, Stranger must've talked to himself a lot. He may speak strangely, not really using the words 'I feel' because spiraling is far too easy in a quiet place like that. He can't really draw. With personified fears and ideas from The Dreamer in all those rooms, Stranger doesn't want to draw them again as a mean to express his own feelings. How can you express the hell in your head when there is hell all around you? So melodramatic. At least Sunny sat in denial, surrounded by color. Stranger reminds me of someone doodle silly things, at least draw something where he hoped to be instead of living in darkness. Though, it'd probably make him more sad, so he'd abandon it somewhere. If he could, Stranger would write a lot. His thoughts could be like a little rule book to keep himself sane. Anger, guilt, shame, vile thoughts, disgusting actions, Stranger would make sure certain mistakes don't happen twice. He'd remember his purpose, helping Sunny remember. Certainly making him feel less worthless. If all this writing was possible, Stranger would be the one with tons of poems.

Ramble. Ramble. Ramble. Jeez, that was a lot of crap. Sorry if you were expecting a yes or no with a few sentences of reasoning, I wanted to reinforce a lot. It gave me a few ideas in the process, but all of it is pretty loose and theorizable (i didnt read check this, so sorry if certain sentences of explanation are a little awkward). But yeah, whaddya think?

#omori stranger #omori #snakie goes insane