#a bit anticlimactic this one was but still thank you for the ask!

[vryfmi]

happy talk shop tuesday!! (♡ˊ͈ ꒳ ˋ͈) not sure how your personal creative ebb and flow is, but what's your comfort zone for creating? like if you want to draw but you're not feeling inspired, what do you tend to fall back on? and on the opposite end, what do you do to kinda shake things up in your artwork, especially if you're feeling a bit "meh" creatively?

its rare that i find a will to draw when im uninspired, i mostly just stop drawing until inspiration strucks again. drawing is just a hobby of mine that spiraled out of control and sometimes it falls way back on the backround and i let it stay there for a while.

my absolute comfortest of comfort zones is skullyle (big surprise), drawing those two in simplest of scenarios restores my will to live (those colour palette ones as a recent example). can these be considered out of character? maybe, i dont know and frankly there's not much for me to compare to (ouch). but it works for me so i guess that's why i come back to it so often - shitpost or just some fluff, everything goes.

on the opposite though… lately ive been branching out with colour and rendering i guess? not too much, not to an extend of a completely new artstyle or anything, just something that felt right in the moment. creatively i think im pretty content with how i draw, i only have been pushing my composition and perspective, and approaching same ideas but from a different angle (pun intended) has been giving that extra satisfaction points when it all comes together and final piece looks very dynamic

[faithst]

CHANCES ༄ HYJ

synopsis yujin becomes jealous when reader hangs out with someone else but is too shy and scared to speak up about it

pairing yujin x socialbutterfly!reader

genre fluff, platonic

warnings mentions of food

wc about 1k

tags best friend yujin, yujin has a crush on reader, highschool setting cuz why not, yujin is jealous bcuz reader is spending alot of time w other guys, yujin is a bit insecure, accidental confession ?

notes hi !! thank you for liking my works and for requesting AND being patient as i delayed this for quite a bit ☹️ honestly, it’s a bit anticlimactic imo but regardless, i hope you enjoy this ! 💕

masterlist<3

you’ve always been an outgoing and sociable individual, that’s what yujin liked about you. he loved how you could always make an awkward situation into a pleasant one and that’s what many people enjoyed about you. maybe a bit too many.

yujin clearly knew you had many friends as you’re very much the social butterfly but he couldn’t help to feel a bit of envy when you’re spending more time with other people instead than him.

he was your best friend, that had a crush on you for as long as he could remember. he was in no position to tell you who you could be friends with or who you chose to use up your time with. though, he did wish that all of your time was spent with him.

“do you wanna hang out today?” he asked, taking a seat next to you. “oh, sorry yujin... i have to meet up with someone else today.” you responded, taking a break from the treacherous torture of writing notes. yujin pressed his lips into a thin line, expecting that response but he still couldn't help but feel slightly envious. he nodded, leaning back in his seat, enjoying the moment while he was still with you.

days after days, you became occupied with your social circle and yujin knew you valued it. you loved making new friends and such but if he could; he wanted to be greedy and take you all for himself.

from days of hanging out after school to meeting up for a study session together to just a wave across the hallway. yujin didn’t mind that you were with your other friends but what bothered him most was the fact you were hanging out with another guy. a guy that made him feel so small, so insecure.

knowing the amount of time you spent with him, yujin believed he stood no chance. wanting to avoid the confirmation at all costs; he began distancing himself. if the slim possibility that you started to gain feelings for this other guy came about, it wouldn’t make him feel any good but it will ease the heartbreak.

the regular waves through the halls were disregarded and avoided. it was odd to you. yujin was your best friend, you knew him like the back of your hand and to have him unexpectedly dismiss you? something was up. if something were to happen to yujin, you’d drop everything just to be there for him and vice versa. this was one of those moments.

for a week or so, you attempted to speak to him alone but you were continually pulled aside by your other friends inviting you to various other stuff. when you went to look for yujin again, he vanished into thin air before you could say anything. you couldn’t find him anywhere.

the week without any words exchanged with your best friend was dreading so you ultimately decided to stop him during lunch break. getting up from your chair as soon as the teacher dismissed you, rushing towards yujin who was getting ready to go out.

“yujin, wait up!” yujin felt his heart wrench hearing you finally talking to him. it took this long for you to come to say something and he had all the right to shun you but he didn’t. he turned his head around, barely making the sight of you from the corner of his eyes. “do you want to have lunch together?” you ask, smiling in hopes he’d accept, in which he did.

inhaling sharply as he grabs a seat next to your table in the classroom where you two were alone now. you took out a ziplock bag that contained your lunch, taking out one of the sandwiches, and offered it to yujin. he declined at first but you insisted, shoving the piece into his mouth where he had no choice but to chew. for a good 5 minutes, it was silent.

you two were just appreciating each other's company, avoiding eye contact as the awkward tension in the room built up. swallowing your last bite, you spoke up “hey..” catching the boy’s attention, his head turning towards you and hands politely placed onto his knees. “i know we haven’t talked that much recently and i’m sorry for that.” the apology made him feel mixed emotions; relieved that you were still thinking about his feelings and guilt for ignoring you on purpose. your manner made it apparent that his actions bothered you.

he shook his head, denying your comment “it’s my fault, i didn’t want to hold you back.” his fingers playing with the hem of his shirt, looking down as he didn’t know how to inform you how he felt. now you were feeling the guilt he was, you made him believe you didn’t like spending time with him.

as you were about to open your mouth to utter another word to break the silence, yujin spoke up again “i just, don’t know how to tell you that i’m jealous of that guy you usually spend time with.” not even daring to glance at you. “i know i’m not anyone but one of your friends, but that guy makes me feel like i have no chance with you” stopping to take a quick breath before starting again. “i like you so much that if you do happen to gain feelings for him, i don’t want to stop that and-”

“wait what?” yujin got cut off, a bit muddled about why you stopped him. furrowing your eyebrows, placing the pieces together “you.. like me?” yujin quirked an eyebrow, confused at your sudden conclusion when he realized he spewed out his feelings on the spot, glancing around to find the best way to run away from this crisis.

yujin started panicking, having no idea what you were going to think of him now. he was preparing to either run or to get rejected when you spoke up “so.. you like me too?” yujin nodded without much thought, only to come to the conclusion you two had mutual feelings. eyes widening, opening his mouth to ask questions for answers only to close it back due to shock.

“you’re telling me, i had a chance all along?!”

© keiwook | 2023

taglist @bruhiamistake @trashhdez @chxrrymxxnlight @haesunflower @big-uwu-stan

here, if you wanna join the taglist !

[bratbby333]

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ [ blog update ! ] ࿐ྂ

+ some housekeeping and info on new writing

hello my loves !! i wanted to give y'all some insight on what's been going on in my mind palace lately. there's a lot...so...cmon, take a walk w me...and maybe bring some snacks.

ੈ♡˳ first and foremost ! my work has received a lot more attention recently and i am so excited. with actual tears in my eyes, im happy to report that i surpassed 1,000 followers the other day. i am at a loss for words...just...stuck in a perma-state of disbelief.

im sending out the biggest thank you to everyone who has supported me, who's interacted with my work, to the lovely friends ive made though this account and to the heartbreakingly beautiful anime that brought me here in the first place. i am genuinely in awe...overwhelmed, even...i didn't expect any of this to happen when i started this blog and i am forever indebted to all of you for getting me here. im actively fighting off the inevitable surge of imposter syndrome as i type this out...i just love y'all so fucking much. this community means the world to me and i wanna scream at the top of my lungs in order to demonstrate my deepest appreciation for each and every one of y'all.

ੈ♡˳ secondly ! a message for my little angel babies, my day one followers; thank you for taking a chance on me. for watching me grow. for sticking around as i worked to get better at writing. im sure a lot of you started following me for my gamer!bf sukuna series...trust me, i love him and i know y'all do too. but i feel like my writing is heading in a different direction...and with a heavy heart, i'm absolutely gutted when i say that i am taking a pause on that series. i am forever grateful for the support and may return to him soon, though i cannot promise that. i owe so much of what my account is now to that series and i will never forget that.

for everyone who joined me as i delved into dark/dead dove content, thank you from the bottom of my heart for allowing me a safe space to explore different forms of story-telling. my choso fic was the first stepping stone and then i skipped every other stone on the path and jumped head first into the deep end with my dead dove gojo fic...i deeply appreciate all the positive feedback i received on both of those. after posting them, i realized that i am very into writing dark content. i know that taboo themes/dark content/dead dove subject matter isn't for everyone and i understand people's apprehension in regards to it. but with that being said, i will be moving forward with publishing darker content.

ੈ♡˳ so here's the writing update !

i did a poll asking y'all what kind of content you enjoy. a good chunk of people said long form fics (which is great, cause i do too !! mommy needs plot). so, i am migrating away from one shot writing. both because i've been thinking about it for awhile and because y'all are into longer stories, as well. but fear not, i will still write shorter stuff along with headcannons, drabbles, etc...it just won't be the main focus of my blog anymore.

ੈ♡˳ now, time for the big reveal ! perhaps it's a bit anticlimactic, but bear with me...

im so excited to announce that i have two new series coming ! it will be a dark, modern!au featuring choso (with a few other special guests) and a dead dove sukuna series.

i'm almost finished with the outlines, and have fully completed the theme layout + mood boards for both works. i hope to get the first few chapters wrapped up in the next couple weeks. if you want to be tagged in either of these (or both), just leave a comment or send me a message !

(also !! i may or may not be cooking up a dark medieval au series in collaboration with another writer on here...so be on the lookout for that hehe)

while i take breaks from writing my two series, i'll be working through my requests ! so if you've sent one in, i promise i will get to it, unless i literally cannot think of a good way to write it (im only human, im so sorry). also, im sure we already knew this, but im a slowww writer. i wish i could churn content out quick as fuck but i am too hypercritical of myself…it's both a blessing and a curse, honestly.

if you made it all the way to the end of this nightmare of a brain dump, i love you. if you've been with me for a while, i love you. if you're just now joining me, i love you. everyone who’s supported me in any way, shape, or form, i love you.

i present you with the sloppiest kiss with tongue (only if you want it, of course. i can also give you the tightest hug, the gentlest head pat, or my social security number...access to all my bank accounts? a mansion in the hills? my passport? hand in marriage? my first born child? literally whatever you want, babe).

okay !! i think that's all for the updates. feeling: very ambitious and motivated but also overwhelmed and mildly stressed but overall super excited for what's to come. im looking forward to this new adventure and i hope y'all come along with me ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

thank you again…for literally everything. yall hold a special place in my heart and always will. so, here we go !

see you on the other side, my loves.

— jade 𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪

[defectivevillain]

the forsaken road

pairing: Jack Delroy/Reader

The reader is referred to with he/him pronouns. Otherwise, race is ambiguous and no physical descriptors are used.

summary:

Jack lets out a wry laugh. It’s broken and dry, as if the very gesture pains him. His hands are trembling, you realize as you study him. His suit is a bit wrinkled and there are a few hairs out of place near his temple. “My career is over.” Jack states resignedly. He looks around the studio, as if trying to get one last look at everything.

The rise and fall of Jack Delroy.

word count: 4.9k | ao3 version

warnings: canon-typical violence/blood/death, spoilers for the movie; ethically questionable relationships.

-> The reader is Jack's personal assistant; their relationship could be constituted as employer/employee, but it's implied that they will no longer be employed at the same place once their relationship turns romantic.

thanks to @palefaceswhore for the beta! any remaining mistakes are mine.

Being a personal assistant is far from your dream job. The hours are long; the pay is laughable; and the high-emotion environment of a television studio can quickly turn sour. Fortunately, these cons are less noticeable when you work as Jack Delroy’s assistant. Jack is forgiving and kind; he doesn’t order you around like a butler, nor does he lash out at you for things you have no control over. He isn’t perfect—few people are—but your position is far less stressful than the ones you had in the past. 

The Halloween episode of Night Owls with Jack Delroy is a departure from that thought. The show’s ratings have been slowly decreasing, leaving Jack with less sponsors and a contract with the network set to expire in a few months. There’s been a slight air of desperation on set recently. And when that one guest accused Jack of changing the show too much… Well, she wasn’t entirely wrong. Truthfully, the programming has been a little crazy lately. The producer, Leo, has turned to increasingly dramatic ways to draw in new audiences. Unfortunately, his efforts aren’t quite paying off. 

That brings you to October 31, 1976: a special Halloween broadcast. Tonight will be one of the most monumental moments of Jack’s career. If he can make a captivating show, then there’s a good chance for more sponsors or, hell, syndication to another television network. If he fails, the show will officially enter its final season—and eventually become nothing more than a memory. Safe to say, there is a lot of pressure on Jack Delroy at the moment. 

Still, he’s handling it rather well—at least, from what you can tell. Several celebrities and guests are lined up for the night, and while you aren’t necessarily excited about some of them, you can recognize their appeal. There’s something for everyone scheduled in the program tonight, from jazz singers to skeptics and psychics. There will be hijinks and shenanigans, interspersed with serious, head spinning moments. 

Thankfully, you don’t have a very big role in the show itself—you’re just here for Jack. While you occasionally assist with programming for Night Owls, your main priority is ensuring Jack has everything he needs: whether that’s a freshly dry-cleaned suit or a brief about the next guest. You’re a jack-of-all-trades around the set—and you enjoy helping others out when they need it. The crew members—Gus McConnell, the co-host; Phil, the director and cameraman; and Sammy, the make-up artist—are easy to talk to. 

The night starts innocently enough, as the first guest, psychic Christou, is invited to perform for the audience. He does appear to intuit a few things, but it’s not overly impressive. Just before the break, however, he lets out an ear-piercing scream. Everyone’s eyes fall on him as he claps his hands over his ears, shaking vigorously. Jack approaches him cautiously, inquiring after his wellbeing. Christou asks the audience about a particular name, but no one seems to recognize it. With an anticlimactic ending to the segment, the broadcast cuts to commercial and the crew is left to scramble about. One thing is abundantly clear to you, as you bustle around behind the scenes: something is wrong with Christou. He keeps coughing into his arm with an exaggerated puffing of his cheeks, as if resisting the urge to hurl. Several people attempt to approach him, but he snaps at all of them. Jack also seems concerned, but the break is ultimately too short for anything to be done about it.

The next segment of the show features Carmichael Haig, a magician-turned-skeptic. He appears alongside Christou, and it is abundantly clear that the two of them despise each other. They’re from two entirely different schools of thought, after all—Christou believes in the supernatural, while Haig only believes in the material. Haig murmurs several insults under his breath as Christou attempts to continue speaking to Jack. Eventually, Christou’s irritation spurs him to get up from his chair and pace about in evident restlessness. 

If the last segment was strange, you can’t even begin to describe what happens in the ensuing few seconds. Christou makes the strange coughing motion again, only to fall forwards and catch himself on the ground. His face contorts into discomfort and he coughs again, only to release a disgusting black liquid. You stare in complete disbelief, unable to believe your eyes. He continues vomiting up the mysterious matter, before Jack leads him off stage and a “We’ll be right back!” message appears on the broadcast. 

You move to approach Jack as he sits next to the skeptic. Immediately, you realize that Haig is trying to get your attention. You valiantly pretend not to notice, until he clamps a hand on your shoulder and forces you to acknowledge him. “Get me some water,” he demands. 

You stare at him for a few seconds. “I’m not your servant,” you then snap. He is perfectly capable of getting up and grabbing his own water. The refreshments aren’t even that far from his current position—he’d just have to turn the corner and take a couple steps backstage to reach them. Irritation prickles along your skin at his flippant disrespect. 

Haig stares at you, before a slight smirk rises on his lips.  “Right, you’re his,” he answers, motioning to Jack. You grit your teeth and resist the urge to throttle the guy.

Jack doesn’t seem pleased with the skeptic’s behavior either, as he glares at him. “Haig,” he warns. Jack’s eyes are glittering and there’s a dark expression on his face. The skeptic quickly shuts up; convinced, Jack gets to his feet and walks away. Not wanting to be in Haig’s presence any longer, you walk away and assist Phil with setting one of the cameras. 

The next segment doesn’t make you feel any better. Jack greets the audience and introduces parapsychologist Dr. June Ross-Mitchell. While you can admit you’re skeptical about her “research,” you don’t think she deserves to be continuously interrupted by Haig—who remains sitting next to her. Thankfully, Jack frequently interjects to put Haig in his place and June gets to tell her story. You learn that she researched a Satanic church run by cult leader Szandor D’Abo, composed of members who worshipped the demon Abraxas. Supposedly, in one final encounter with the FBI, the entire group died: lighting themselves on fire and burning their whole building down. One person survived the entire tragedy: a young girl named Lilly. 

From the moment Lilly walks out on stage, you can sense something’s off with her. You don’t want to judge her so quickly, especially considering what she went through. But her behavior is rather abnormal—she stares at the cameras with an eerie smile on her face; she greets Jack as if they have already been acquainted; and she claims to have a demon residing within her named Mr. Wriggles. 

It’s at this point that you have to take a step back and contemplate every decision that has led you to this moment. You signed up to be an assistant to Jack Delroy, a late-night television show host. In all the time you’ve been working with him on set, you’ve never seen the show adopt such an occultist and spiritual lens on things. And while you know the broadcast is a Halloween episode, there are ultimately too many occurrences that can’t be explained away with common sense. What happened with Christou? More importantly, what the hell is happening here? 

While you don’t get an answer to the latter question, you soon have an answer to the former. When the segment ends and the cameras cut to black, Jack is pulled aside by the producer, Leo. Within a minute or so, Jack emerges looking rather pale. He makes a beeline towards you and leads you towards a forgotten corner of the set to have a private conversation. 

“What’s the matter?” You ask immediately. The tension on Jack’s face betrays his attempts at composure. He takes a step forward and you resist the urge to back away. The two of you are standing rather close together now. 

Jack takes a slow breath and pinches the bridge of his nose, before looking at you. “Christou died on the way to the hospital. From hemorrhaging, supposedly.”

“That’s…” You trail off, unable to find the words. You rub a hand over your face. “Something’s clearly wrong here.”

“I know,” Jack acquiesces, his gaze flitting about. 

“And something’s not right with Lilly, either,” you say. “I don’t think it’s possession. Her mind… What she went through is enough to give any adult trauma, let alone a child.” You remark. Jack is silent, which motivates you to continue speaking.

“I mean, you know I’m as skeptical as they get. And even I’m unsettled. People will do anything for attention. Even if this “demon” doesn’t prove to be real, the people in this studio are—and they can cause real damage.”

Jack looks conflicted. Unfortunately, before you can hammer in the point any further, Leo is rounding the corner and pulling him away while whispering in his ear. You’re left standing against the wall, arms crossed over your chest as you contemplate exactly how you got yourself into this situation. A fucking demon conjuring. A late-night television show is going to broadcast a demon conjuring. 

What follows is a dream sequence. That’s the only way you can describe it. It’s a nightmare—a fever dream. None of it feels real. During thr summoning, Lilly’s eyes turn yellow; her skin rips apart; she shakes in her chair and writhes against her restraints. Her voice doesn’t sound like her own—it’s deep and dark, a juxtaposition to her unassuming appearance. But just as you begin to wonder if this is all some sort of elaborate prank, she levitates several feet in the air. 

Ultimately, nothing you witnessed can be explained away by common sense or logic. At least, that’s what you think—and it appears nearly everyone else thinks the same thing. Everyone else… except Haig. Ever the skeptic, he asserts that he can show the audience how June and Lilly pulled off their “trick.” And while you’re sick of hearing his voice, you want nothing more than a reasonable explanation for all of this mess. Unfortunately, the skeptic isn’t exactly someone you would characterize as reasonable or particularly grounded. 

“Where is your assistant?” Haig asks Jack, promptly breaking you out of your thoughts. You feel a bolt of pure fear run down your spine, as you immediately catch on to what he’s asking for. There are two chairs set up on the stage. He’s going to perform some kind of hypnotism. And… he wants you to participate. Fortunately, Jack doesn’t seem keen to let that happen, as he quickly shuts the skeptic down. 

“He has nothing to do with this-” Jack interjects. You’re distracted with a sudden overwhelming appreciation for the man. Unfortunately, that gratitude is quickly overshadowed by Haig promptly turning around and walking to the edge of the set—right in front of you. 

“Here!” You hardly have a chance before there’s a hand on your arm again, pulling you into the spotlight. “Please, join me.” With that, he turns to the audience and smiles, as if sharing an inside joke. “Isn’t he charming? Yes, a round of applause for the brave volunteer.” What volunteer? You were just forced to participate! You suppress any sarcastic remarks and take the proffered seat across from Haig. 

“In a moment, I want you to look at my watch,” he explains. “I will snap my fingers, and you will be completely in my control.” You roll your eyes internally, knowing it won’t work. You’ve never believed in any of this hypnosis bullshit and you’re not about to start now. “Ready?”

“Yes.” You say, after he asks for verbal confirmation. Haig pulls out his watch, revealing a white and black swirling backdrop. He holds it in front of him and you stare at it, trying to focus despite your misgivings. It’ll need to be at least a little convincing for the viewers. 

As the mesmerizing spiral continues, you feel your vision clarify and sharpen intensely. Everything around you slowly starts to fade away, until you’re floating in an infinite void. You don’t emerge for a while, until there’s a harsh light burning into your eyes and a firm snapping sound reverberating through your ears. You blink and your head jerks forward, as the television set around you rematerializes. The audience gasps and you look around in confusion, quickly sensing that something must’ve gone wrong. Jack looks as if he’s seen a ghost; Dr. Jude looks disturbed; and Lilly looks amused, which only furthers your suspicion that something’s wrong with her. The audience members are all in varying states of fear. 

You try to move your hands, only to feel a residual ache running up and down your fingers. Frowning, you try to regain feeling in your limbs. Meanwhile, Jack seems to collect himself—as he stares at you for a long moment before announcing that they should watch the footage of the hypnotism. The audience, the crew, the guests, and Jack… They all must have seen something horrifying. That’s the only explanation for the downright terror flickering in their eyes. 

A crew member wheels a small television into the room and starts to rewind the footage. You get up from your chair, your balance wavering, and move towards a seat near the television set. You need to know what happened here—in the immeasurable time that you spent lost in the shadows of your mind. Eventually, the crew member pauses the footage and Jack motions for them to unpause. The footage begins. 

At first, nothing is out of the ordinary. You watch as Haig explains the process, before swinging his watch before your eyes. The entire audience looks at the pendulum, too. You watch with a strange feeling at the pit of your stomach as everyone’s eyes glaze over. Haig continues speaking to you, asking you about your worst fears and the sensations you’re experiencing. You don’t remember any of that happening, nor do you remember what happens next: 

“What is that?” You frown, tilting your head to the side as a high pitched noise rings in your ears. Your temple starts to ache. “Why is it so loud?” Your hands are trembling, even as you grip the arms of the chair hard enough to send bolts of pain sliding down your fingers. 

“Stop,” you beg. You clap your hands over your ears and practically writhe in your seat. “Please stop.” No one else seems to sense the sound. But you’re almost fighting against some unseen force to get it to stop. The camera briefly pans to Dr. Jude and Lilly—who look frightened and amused, respectively—before finding Jack. Jack looks extremely disturbed—and appears moments away from being sick.

You’re pressing your fingers into your temple hard, as if clawing at your skin will free you of the blaring noise. You’re repeating “stop,” as if it’s a mantra. At some point, your voice inexplicably deepens—until you realize that you’re not the only one speaking. Jack’s voice joins yours. “Stop!”

The footage glitches and the screen turns black. 

You stare at the footage in disbelief. You don’t remember any of that happening. If there wasn’t video evidence, you wouldn’t believe it. But… it must be true. Haig was making you hear some sort of phantom sound. And to think, you believed hypnotism was utter nonsense… 

“Well,” Jack says, taking a shuddering breath. “That was…” He breaks off, seemingly at a loss for words. You take a slow, deep breath and try to remain calm. Jack turns to face one of the cameras. “We’ll be right back,” he announces somewhat forcefully. The smile that remains on his face is far too strained to be genuine. 

When the cameras are off, Jack stalks away from the set, immune to Gus and Leo calling after him. You watch him leave in confusion, pressing a trembling hand to your temple as you walk towards the back. You’re hardly out of the spotlight for more than a few moments, before the make-up artist, Sammy, is approaching you. She moves to grab a brush from her pocket and you shake your head. 

“I don’t need anything, it’s fine,” you choke out, slowly regaining your composure. 

“Just pretend; I don’t want to go back to that jackass,” Sammy murmurs, her eyes falling to Haig. You nod in understanding. “Anyway. Are you okay?”

You contemplate the question. Are you okay? Truthfully, you’re not quite sure. “I don’t know,” you admit, resisting the very compelling urge to bury your head in your hands. “...That was really weird.” That’s the understatement of the century.

“Was any of this planned?” Sammy asks hesitantly. 

“They chose the guests for tonight, obviously,” you answer, trying to think. “I can’t imagine they thought it would go like this, though. And I didn’t fake that hypnosis. That would go far past an innocent prank. And I’m not that good of an actor.”

“Right,” Sammy says with a frown. She seems to believe you; relief courses through you. “And what happened with Christou…” She trails off. 

“I know,” you whisper in agreement. “That was… scary. I mean, everyone seemed surprised—even Jack. I know Haig said there’s such a thing as controlled regurgitation, but it’s still disturbing.”

“Hey, at least you’re done on camera.” She says.

“Yeah,” you agree, unable to feel fully relieved. Dread made a home in your chest the moment the episode started. Something is off in the studio today. “And I’m never going on air ever again.”

“Ha.” Sammy’s eyes glitter with amusement. “You were great! Pretty popular with the ladies. I think Jack got jealous.”

You roll your eyes. “You’re a good friend, Sammy,” you sigh, “Even if you’re a liar.”

Sammy laughs loudly, before slapping a hand over her mouth quickly. She evidently realizes that she’s been brushing the same side of your face for at least twenty seconds now, and backs away with an apologetic grimace. “Well, you’re definitely covered on the right side.”

A playfully disparaging remark is on the tip of your tongue when there’s suddenly a hand on your shoulder. You hardly get a chance to think before you’re getting nearly manhandled into a standing position by Leo, who looks uncharacteristically stressed. 

“Leo, what’s up?” You ask. 

“Need you to speak to Jack,” Leo mutters, guiding you through the backstage area and towards the dressing rooms. “He’s practically locked himself in his dressing room. Doesn’t want to do the rest of the show.”

You don’t want to do the rest of the show either, so you probably won’t be convincing Johnny of anything. But you are concerned for him, so you let Leo push you into the dressing room and promptly slam the door shut. 

Jack is sitting on the sofa, his elbows propped on his knees as his head is buried in his hands. You stare at him for a moment, contemplating if you should just leave. Does he really want you here? You suppose you’re about to find out. “Jack?”

He looks up and stares at you. You’re surprised to find tear stains running down his cheeks. “I’m so sorry,” Jack says, with worrying sincerity. Your brows furrow. What is he apologizing for? “This was entirely my fault. I got you into this situation.”

“Jack, that’s-” You try to say, only for him to cut you off by reaching out and lightly grabbing your hand. Stunned to silence, you watch as he turns your hand around and inspects it. 

“There’s blood under your fingernails.” He notes. You pull your hand away and Jack exhales exaggeratedly, rubbing his hands over his face in stress. “Everything’s a mess.”  

“Well what can we do?” You question. When he doesn’t seem keen to answer, you continue speaking. “We can continue running this shitshow, which, honestly, will go poorly. It could be dangerous, too—I don’t know what happened with Lilly, but that wasn’t normal.”

“We could also end the episode early,” you continue. “It would probably scare viewers, and ratings wouldn’t be great…”

You’re not sure how long you stand there until Jack breaks the silence. “I don’t know what to do,” he admits. 

“Me neither,” you respond. “At least it’s in your hands, though. You make the decision—whatever you’re most comfortable with.” You shove your hands in your pockets, feeling a need to quell the restless energy running through you. 

“You should be the producer,” Jack murmurs. 

“I’m a man of many talents,” you joke. 

“You are,” he responds, with far too much sincerity. Jack turns to look at you expectantly. “What would you do, if you were me?” The trust in his eyes is overwhelming. You don’t believe you deserve it. 

“I think I’d end the episode,” you reply after some contemplation. “Enough viewers have been traumatized. Our ratings have already suffered, and dragging this on will only make them worse. Besides, something’s seriously wrong with Lilly—and I’d rather not be here to find out what that is. And a few crew members are already on the verge of leaving, so…” You break off, hoping you’ve made your point clear. Just because he asked you doesn’t mean that he’s going to do exactly what you say (nor do you want him to). 

“What will I do?” Jack asks. His voice cracks ever so slightly.  

You’re not sure if that’s meant to be a rhetorical question, but you decide to acknowledge it anyway. “What do you mean?” You ask.

“I needed those ratings,” Jack sighs. “My contract’s going to expire. The show will probably end after this.”

“Well,” you frown. “There are other networks, and other opportunities out there. I doubt you’d just… slip off the face of the planet.” You reason. And it’s true—even if Jack’s popularity on the network is dwindling, he still has a decent fanbase. You’re almost certain he would be able to recover somehow. 

“What about you?”

“What about me?” You squint at him. 

“What will happen to you?” Jack questions, staring pointedly ahead.

“I don’t know,” you respond honestly. “Haven’t thought that far ahead yet. I’m sure I’ll figure something out, though. Besides, I don’t want to be an assistant forever.”

“Your degree, right,” Jack seems to recall. You blink at him for a second, shocked that he knows that. Then you remember the conversation you had with him years ago—about how you wanted to do something more with your bachelor’s degree. 

“I’m surprised you remember that,” you manage to say, once you can sort out your thoughts.  

“I’m a good listener when I want to be,” Jack smiles. (“You’re a talk show host! You’re supposed to be a good listener!” You heard June say to him earlier.) After a few moments of thought, he places his hands down on the sofa next to him. “Okay,” Jack says determinedly, getting up from his seat with a renewed resolve. “I know what to do now. Thanks.” He nods, head somewhat bowed as he exits the room. You almost immediately hear Leo harassing Jack for a decision and you sigh, following his lead and leaving his dressing room. 

What follows is a mess, to put it kindly. Jack’s decision to shut down shooting for the day is definitely the right one, but the audience members are somewhat disappointed—and it takes a while to get all of them to exit the building. Eventually, Leo storms onto the stage and threatens to kick them out—which seems to do the trick. After, the crew members start to clean up the studio—taking down equipment and ensuring everything is in its proper place. Usually, this doesn’t take long; tonight, amidst all the craziness, it’s a lengthy affair. 

Finally, after what feels like far too long, it’s just Jack and you in the studio. You can finally breathe. You take one final walk around the studio to ensure nothing was forgotten or left behind, before returning to the stage area. Jack has been sitting in his chair for the entirety of the takedown process, which is a little concerning. He’s staring ahead with a blank expression on his face.

“What’s wrong?” You ask Jack, despite already knowing the answer. If you were in his position, you’d be frustrated, confused, and exhausted. You can only assume he feels a mix of those emotions—and more—at the present moment. 

Jack lets out a wry laugh. It’s broken and dry, as if the very gesture pains him. His hands are trembling, you realize as you study him. His suit is a bit wrinkled and there are a few hairs out of place near his temple—a travesty Sammy would not allow if filming was still in progress. “My career is over.” Jack states resignedly. He looks around the studio, as if trying to get one last look at everything. 

“You made the right decision,” you try to reassure him. 

He runs his hands through his hair, effectively ruining the coiffed look he had going before. Ironically, you think it looks better messy. You immediately scold yourself for letting your thoughts wander. Jack, immune to your brief internal crisis, sighs. “It doesn’t feel like it.” 

“That’s how it is, sometimes,” you say. And it’s true. Sometimes, the best decision still feels like a defeat or a loss. You’ve had to make those kinds of decisions in the past, and you’re sure life will bring you some more in the future. Admittedly, you’re usually on the other end of these kinds of scenarios—you’re usually the one who feels as if their life is crumbling around them, not the one who offers advice and consolation. 

“When did you get so wise?” He huffs. You exhale in amusement. 

“Come on,” you urge him, extending a hand. “Let’s get out of this hellhole, before a light falls down and beheads us.” That would be just your luck. Jack lets out a dry laugh, taking your proffered hand and getting to his feet. The two of you walk out of the building, occasionally brushing shoulders in your proximity. Neither of you are able to come up with something to say, but the silence isn’t uncomfortable. When Jack sees that you plan on taking the bus home, he offers to drive you back to your place. Regardless of how many times you try to say no, he’s strangely insistent on making sure you get back safe. 

You suppose it’s inevitable that you later find yourself standing at your kitchen counter across from Jack. He holds a mug of coffee—how he’s able to drink it so late at night, you’re not sure—and stares into the distance thoughtfully. 

“It’ll be okay,” you feel the need to reassure him. You’re not sure you’ve ever seen him look so troubled before. You quickly decide you don’t like it. 

“I know,” he says, his voice somewhat hollow. It may take him a little while to truly believe that, you realize. And that’s alright. “Thanks,” Jack continues, “I couldn’t have done this without you.”

“Yes, you could’ve,” you argue. The objection comes easily, because it’s true. You’ve hardly done anything of significance across your years working with him. 

Jack shakes his head in disagreement, placing his mug down and looking at you with an unreadable look. You watch with bated breath as he takes a step closer. You’re pulled to him like a magnet, turning to look at him. 

“Sometimes, I feel as if you’re the only one who really sees me.” Jack whispers. You bite the inside of your cheek, emotion stirring in your chest at the vulnerable admission. In a spur of the moment decision, you reach out and clasp Jack’s hand where it’s resting on the counter. For an awful moment, you think he’s going to wrench your grip off —but he only flips his palm around and clasps your hand with reassuring strength.

“And I think about you all the time,” he continues, “I think about sharing a life with you, and having the privilege of seeing you every day. Outside of the set, away from all the madness.”

Jack’s hand lingers in the air between you, as if he wants to touch you but can’t allow himself to do it. His next words are breathed so quietly that it takes you a few seconds to process them. “Can I kiss you?” 

“Yes,” you respond. You don’t expect the swiftness of his response, as he pushes you back against the counter and nearly crashes into you in his vigor. Jack presses his lips to yours, his hands bracketing your face. You rest your arms around his shoulders. A shiver rolls down your spine. Jack pushes you back further and, moments later, there’s a loud shattering sound. The two of you break apart to investigate the noise, only to find your mug on the floor in pieces. 

“I’ll clean it up,” he immediately remarks, looking very guilty. 

You reassure him that it’s not a big deal. “You’re getting me a new mug, though,” you propose. 

“Of course,” he responds breathlessly, a smile on his face. This smile is new—it isn’t the strained, tense one from earlier today; it also isn’t the fake, all-teeth one that he uses when he’s in the public eye. This expression is new to you—Jack’s eyes are ever so slightly wrinkled at the sides and his lips quirk at the edges. 

You roll your eyes. Jack’s kissing you again before you can remember the mess on the floor.

endnotes: I don’t know how (read: why) I wrote so much for this fucking movie. I have written far less for far better pieces of media… Sigh. It is what it is. The deed has been done. Blame it on David Dastmalchian—first Murdoc, now Jack…

here's an obligatory jack delroy playlist. sigh... i'm down so bad...

thanks for reading! <3

check out my other works, sorted by fandom.

general taglist: @its-ares @excusemeasibangmyheadonawall @kingkoku @the-ultimate-librarian @gayaristocrat

friendly reminder that i don't give permission for my writing to be shared to other sites, stolen, copied, translated, or used in any way. thanks!

[bloggingboutburgers]

hey! just stumbled on your blog today and I have to say it is one of the best surprises of my day! Happy to meet you as another aroace french fellow!! I have a question (a bit more private, so you do not have to answer if you are feeling uncomfortable about answering)! The comics about you and your partner truly are adorable, and you two seem to be really close! Society has this very strict view of couples so that they HAVE to love each other romantically, be mutually jealous, have sex, yadda yadda... obviously there is much more diverse couples than that, and thank goodness!! So I was wondering, since there is no romantic attraction on your side, what drives you in in your partner? Is it the secure and complex feeling of intimacy one has when in a relationship? Or something else entirely? I am curious! I love to hear about arospec couple experience! wish you the best for you and your partner! lots of love and support!!

Hey! Very happy to e-meet you as well, and thank you so much for the kind words TwT Very glad to be a nice surprise!

That's also a fair question! In all fairness, my partner was the one who brought up the idea of us being in a queerplatonic relationship, and my reaction to that was… Painfully anticlimactic. But within months of trying it out I was definitely sold, way more sold than I thought I was gonna be.

I still sorta ask myself the question pretty often, to be honest. Like, what draws me to this so much, because it surprises me a lot, and makes me question myself as an aromantic at times – even though I always wind up coming back to the conclusion that, yeah, I am very much an aromantic.

Security definitely plays a big part into it – I'll even say safety. The fact that being with them allows me to get affection and positive physical contact without having anything expected of me beyond that in return is huge to me. I may not be interested in romantic love but I want affection from time to time like a lot of human beings I think, and I've found myself being pretty touch-starved/hug-starved quite a few times in my life. So I'd let friends hug me a lot, up until I realized a handful of them might’ve been seeing something other than just the bare thing of sharing affection as a human being in those hugs, and put me on the defensive. And then I’ve lived most of my life being wary of most people and of what they’d expect from me if I dared to get « too close » to them.

What I have with my partner allows me to have that affection, and to be able to give that affection, be it physically, verbally, or anything like that, without having to worry about my boundaries being crossed. They make me feel loved and safe at the same time and it can be a pretty tall order for someone like me. I guess that’s how I could put it best?

…Also they’re adorable and very funny, overall a very sunny person and I’m honoured I get to selfishly enjoy that from a front row.

…I could go on and on because there’d be a lot to say but yeah!! I hope that made sense TwT Thank you so much for the lovely good wishes^^

[liverspaghett]

FRAGMENTS OF OURSELVES

♭form! jooyeon x fem reader

Genre: smut, fantasy

Warnings: oral (fem rec), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), rope play (but the ropes are electricity?), not proofread

Tags!: @sol3chu

w/c: roughly 4400

WARNING: NO ONE HAS BEEN TO ♭FORM ONLY ONCE

Lobby music plays as I wait to load into the game. The server is bustling with life and I’m exactly where I was when I last got on. I travel along the road where I live here. I’m on my way to the city square. From what I remember, I was getting food from the market. The twilight evening is foggy, but the roads are lit by streetlights. It’s bright enough to navigate. Today, I won’t visit my usual market. I’m in need of something new and exciting.

Upon entering the new shop, I spotted the cashier. He sports a wide and bright smile. I take a basket from the entrance and start looking around. There’s a plethora of potion supplies, it must be a wizard shop. I take a bundle of dried roses, a jar of cinnamon sticks, and several other ingredients that look pretty. I don’t know the first thing about potion making, but I can use these things for cooking. The small wooden shop is very aromatic and welcoming.

“Can I help you with anything?” A voice brings me back to Earth. It belongs to the cashier boy. His voice suits his smile nicely.

“I’m alright, thank you!” I can’t help but smile at him, his positivity is contagious. I take my time and pick out a few other things, including a cute little candle. It’s very simple, just white wax inside of a ceramic bowl. I add it to my basket and decide that’s enough shopping.

I wait in line behind a few people who are also checking out. The cashier is kind with all of them. He’s a real social butterfly, at least online. I wonder if he’s much different in real life. I’ve learned that a lot of people are completely different in real life than here in ♭form. It’s an escape, so I’d say that people are closer to themselves here than in real life.

Finally, I’m at the front of the line and he flashes me that enticing smile. I placed all of the items I'd chosen on the table. He looks fine until I place the candle and his face drains of color completely and his smile is nowhere to be seen. He looks at me, trying to hide his worry.

“You know this is the most powerful one we have, right? Nobody knows what it does, it was made centuries ago.”

“Oh no, I thought it was a regular candle!” I was genuinely shocked. We agreed that it was best if I put the candle back. He now calculates the price of everything excluding the candle.

“That’ll be forty dollars.” It’s a bit expensive for ♭form’s currency.

“However,” he starts. “I’ll cut that price in half if I can get your number, your real number.” He catches me completely off-guard at his request. Not once in all of my years in ♭form have I been asked this. Of course I have to give it to him, not only because of the discount (which is irresistible) but because he seems like a pleasant guy.

Shortly after, I get a notification. It’s a text from the guy.

Joo: hi! You probably know me by my user, joo_lvs_veggies. You can call me Jooyeon. p.s: I hate veggies

y/n: hi jooyeon, im y/n!! And you hate veggies!?!?

That starts our first conversation. It lasts until the night swallows everything around me but him and the next topic that comes up.

y/n: do you really not know anything about that candle in ♭form?

Joo: All I know is that it was the first server to generate with one. It’s rumored the devs didn’t put it there either.

y/n: Then why is it still being sold?

Joo: I just wanna see if someones brave enough to light it.

y/n: I want to

Before I know it, we’re logged back into ♭form and in the back room of his store. The candle is sitting before us and with one last look at each other, I light the candle. Despite all of my anticipation, nothing happens. I don’t know if this is good, but I'm honestly disappointed. I was kind of hoping something would happen.

“That was very anticlimactic!” Jooyeon laughs and I do too. I yawn in the dark room, lit by candlelight alone and he catches on. “Tired?” he asks. I nod. After a couple of farewells, I’m logged off and curled up into my bed. The night envelops me and I fall asleep.

Months pass after meeting Jooyeon. We talk a lot, including the things we do in reality. He’s a struggling college student similarly to me. He works three jobs, which is insane. One specific night, we spent hours talking about how weird it is that one of his three jobs bought candles. I jokingly reference the night when we lit that candle.

Joo: but who would actually buy candles at a grocery store

y/n: me! Candles are the best!

Joo:Other than you

y/n: i guess you have a point lol

I stayed up too late the night before studying and talking to Jooyeon. My head is pounding and the little bit of sunlight that manages to get past my curtains hurts my eyes. To my disappointment, the fridge is empty. I sigh when I find nothing. I guess I'll stop by the grocery store. I put on my shoes and step outside. It isn’t the brightest day, it’s actually pretty gloomy. Dark clouds hang overhead and it's foggy. I walk down the street, hearing my own footsteps clack against the stone road.

When I arrive at the store, my shoulders drop in disappointment. They’re closed today. The next closest store isn’t too much further away, so I just walk to it. I’ve only been to this store a time or two since I moved here, so everything is quite unfamiliar. I go in and I’m greeted by the cashier. The store isn’t very large and mostly contains ingredients to cook with. Ironically, I see a small stand with candles. I detour over to it, they're simple and white with a linen scent. I laugh, remembering the conversation with Jooyeon. In fact, the candles kind of resemble the ones in ♭form. Just for keepsakes, I take one. I grab what I usually use most and head to the register to check out. The boy greets me with a bright smile.

“Find everything ok?” His voice sounds familiar, but I can’t think of anyone I know around here who it might be. I nod and get out my phone while he scans all of the items. I realized Jooyeon messaged me earlier, so I replied to him. After the cashier is done scanning my things, his phone buzzes. He takes a quick look at it and smiles.

“Girlfriend?” I ask him.

“I wish,” he says. I laugh and take my things. On my way out, my phone buzzes again, stopping me in my tracks.

Joo: Can you believe someone actually bought one of the candles? She was kinda cute ngl

I turn around, my face is shocked and beet red. I walk back up to the cashier. It’ll be so embarrassing if I’m not thinking correctly.

“What’s your name?” I ask him.

“Jooyeon,” he says. I’m taken aback completely. There’s no way this just happened.

“No way,” I stand there in silence, staring at my friend.

“You ok?” he asks. For a moment I stand there in disbelief.

“I’m y/n” I finally manage to say. As soon as the words leave my mouth, Jooyeon’s actions mirror mine. We both stand there in a shocked silence before Jooyeon speaks.

“Of course you bought the candle!” We break out in laughter. And I sat the candle on the table.

“It resembles the one on ♭form! How could I pass?” He smiles and a light blush covers his cheeks. I can’t help but be attracted. He’s a lot better looking than I’d expected. I can’t believe we never thought to ask what each other looks like.

“Hey uh,” he shyly asks, scratching the back of his neck. I look back up to him.

“What?” I ask.

“Would you like to come over to my place maybe?” His voice is quiet and nervous. I feel my face heating up by the nanosecond.

“I’d love to, Joo!” immediately his face lights up with excitement. The redness spreads to his ears when he hears me call him by his nickname that he’d acquired over the past couple months.

“My shift is over at three, text me your address and I’ll come pick you up,” his smile is brighter than anything i’d ever seen. He seems rather excited, which is great, because so am I.

Back at home, I put away my groceries and start to put some things in a bag to take over to Jooyeon’s house. I call my friend, Jungsu to tell. I tell Jungsu everything. I excitedly read all of the messages to Jungsu when I realize something. First, I asked if he was texting his girlfriend, he replied saying he wished. Second, he texted me before he knew it was me that he was calling me cute.

“Jooyeon thinks i’m cute!” I shout after a long pause.

“Wait,” Jungsu says, “you said his name is Jooyeon?” I see his mouth hanging wide open over the video call. I nod and give him a look.

“Like, Lee Jooyeon-” he looks shocked. I nod again.

“We go to school together!” I gasp in shock.

“Do you both live in the dorms?” I ask excitedly. He nods.

“I’ll get to see you!” I squeal.

“Bring your laptop, we’ve got to get on ♭form together!” Jungsu says and I hear a car pull into my driveway.

“Be there in a minute!” I hang up on Jungsu, forgetting to say goodbye and grab my things. Jungsu is used to it by now, and sometimes he even does it back to me.I excitedly greet Jooyeon as I step outside. He lets me in the car and we’re off to the dorms. I know where we’re going because I sometimes come to visit Jungsu. Jooyeon’s car is pretty nice, it’s clean, rather roomy, and smells like fresh carpet. He glances over to me a few times before we’re finally in the parking garage. The drive was short, it only took about ten minutes to get here from my house. He guides me to the entrance and down the halls. We go up a few flights of dark red carpeted stairs until we’re on the 4th floor. It’s the same floor Jungsu lives on. Are they closer than I'd thought?

Finally we make it to his door, and surprisingly, Jungsu lives directly across the narrow hallway. Before I start that mess though, I get settled. Jooyeon takes my bag and puts it up for me, and then we both sit on the couch.

“Joo,”

“Yeah?”

“Do you happen to know Jungsu?”

“Like, Kim Jungsu?”

“Yeah”

“Of course, he loves right across from me, we’re pretty good friends”

“Really!?”

“Yeah, why?”

“We've been friends forever!”

Next thing I know, we’re both standing in front of Jungsu’s door, banging on it repeatedly. After a terribly long time of him not answering,.someone comes upstairs. They'll likely complain about us making so much noise.

“Guys?!” Jungsu sets down his laundry basket and gives us both a hug before opening his door.

“Come on in!” After opening the door, he picks the basket back up and follows us in. It’s been a while since I've visited Jungsu. His house is only slightly different than I remember, but it has the same welcoming feeling. The couch is soft as it engulfs my body. Jooyeon sits beside me. I don’t know why it gives me butterflies when he leans back and throws his arm over the back of the couch, he’s on the complete opposite side of the couch and not even close to me.

“So,” Jooyeon starts. Jungsu is back from putting his laundry away. We’re both listening to Jooyeon. “are y’all like dating?” Me and Jungsu smile at each other, on the verge of laughing.

“No, you don’t have to see me as competition Jooyeon,” Jungsu teases him. Jooyeon rolls his eyes at him.

“You two wanna go get your laptops?” Jungsu asks. I get up excitedly.

“Wait, why?” Jooyeon is confused, he doesn't know Jungsu and I planned this to some extent. Despite not being told about the plan, he’s not against it. We go back to Jooyeon’s dorm and come back within minutes, laptops in hand.Jungsu smiles and leads us to his room. I sit on the couch with Jooyeon and Jungsu sits on the bed.

The room is cold, and it must have been apparent because Jooyeon takes off the flannel he was wearing over his t-shirt and covers my arms with it. I put it on without hesitation and he gives me a warm smile. We’re all ready to login, but it’s taking longer to load than usual. After five minutes of waiting, we leave the laptops on and migrate back to the living room.

“Well, what now guys?” Jungsu says. I perk up, remembering the candle I bought. Without warning I run back to Jooyeon’s dorm and come back with it in hand. The two guys look at me with an odd face.

“Look, doesn’t look like the candle in ♭form?” I say excitedly. Jooyeon smiles at me softly. Jungsu is inspecting it.

“What candle are you talking about?”

“There’s a candle that generated in the server in my shop. No one knows where it came from. Jungsu hums in acknowledgement.

“You work tomorrow, right?” Jooyeon drapes himself on the pale blue couch again. Jungsu replies from the fridge, which is only a few feet away. He grabs a few glass bottles of soda and brings them back to the living room.

“Yeah, I have to go to bed early tonight.” Jungsu hands each of us a bottle and sits in the chair across from Jooyeon. All of Jungsu’s furniture matches well and is super cute and stylish. I sit on the couch with Jooyeon and take out my phone. No way it’s already six in the evening- I really did sleep in all day. Jooyeon takes the remote off the coffee table. I guess they’re pretty close because Jungsu doesn’t seem phased, at least not until he turns on Up.

“Jooyeon, no, we can’t watch this again!” our friend protests. I suppose they hang out quite a bit.

“Why not, it’s my favorite movie?” Jooyeon whines and I can’t help myself from thinking of how cute he is. He’s pouting at Jungsu.

“First of all, we’ve already watched it seven times,” Jungsu starts. The second reason follows is a bit quieter.

“And it makes me cry…” Jooyeon laughs when Jungsu looks away. They bicker back and forth until Jooyeon inevitably ends up winning and getting to watch Up. Jungsu leaves and goes to the kitchen. I thought he was upset with Jooyeon, but he instead comes back with a huge bowl of popcorn and sits between me and Jooyeon. I don’t hesitate to lean on Jungsu’s shoulder so I can reach the popcorn. Him and Jooyeon look at each other before Jungsu speaks.

“I’m feeling a bit stuffy, wanna switch spots Joo?” Jooyeon happily switches and holds the popcorn. He throws his hand across the back of the couch casually. It feels intentional, so I test the waters and lean into him a little bit. His arm carefully comes down to embrace me. The feeling of his warmth wrapped around my body gets rid of any tension. I let myself lay in his embrace while the movie continues.

I didn't even realize the movie ended until Jungsu got up. It was about eight and he had to get ready for bed. Me and Jooyeon got our laptops that still haven't loaded and went back to his dorm. His curtains are pulled back, but no sunlight comes in. It's already dark. The lamp he turns on is yellowish and dim, it adds a haze to the room which is aesthetically opposite to Jungsu’s. He has a leather couch with a patterned blanket to cover it and guitars displayed everywhere. His house is warmer and less organized, but still clean.

“Say, wanna light that candle?” He asks me. I look at him with a bright smile.He leaves to get a lighter and I get out the candle. I put the candle on the coffee table and he’s back with the lighter. I take the lighter and he heads over to the lamp and turns it off. The room is pitch black except for a couple of street lights outside and now the lighter. Jooyeon navigates to the other side of the table without bumping into anything. I take the lighter and finally light the candle. It smells good and illuminates the room softly. I’m shocked when our laptops light up despite being closed. Lobby music from ♭form plays from both of our laptops.

It’s not too big of a deal, I assume, because we did leave the application open when we shut off our computers. I go to grab mine, but as soon as my hand touches it, I get a small shock through my body. I jump back and yelp, which makes Jooyeon come up and see what happened. When I explain, he carefully grabs his own and also gets shocked. We stand in silence for a moment, trying to think of what could be happening. The lobby music that used to be exciting and welcoming suddenly feels ominous. Both of the laptops sit open and facing us. The game has loaded, but a new window has opened. A photo of ourself shows in the window. It isn’t a regular photo though, it’s an AI recreation. I take a step back from the entire situation and look at Jooyeon who is still tense.

“Wanna get something to drink?” I offer him. His body loosens and he agrees. I follow him to the kitchen. Jooyeon hands me a can of soda from his fridge. He sighs and leans against the counter.

“What’s going on, Y/n,” he sounds genuinely concerned.

“I dunno Joo,” I reply. His gaze softens at his nickname.

“We have to find out though,” I continue. He lifts himself off of the counter and follows me back into the living room.

“I’ve always admired your curiosity.” He says. I can’t find the words to reply. A new window has opened on our laptops. I run up to mine and see it has excerpts from my notes. That was locked and inaccessible. There's a progress bar stating it’s 89%. Once it reaches 100 and finishes uploading, all of those excerpts will be shared with everyone on ♭form, including Jooyeon. He’s the last person I want to see. Most of what I have written is about him. I try everything to stop the upload, but it keeps going. I go as far as to try and delete the file itself, then the game, and finally I try to factory reset the computer. All of my efforts prove useless.

I’m 3% away from having all of the most vulnerable fragments of my being exposed to the entire virtual platform.

“What’s yours doing?” Jooyeon asked. His voice sounds shallowly calm. He must be panicking inside like me.

“It’s uploading all of my personal notes to ♭form!” I cry out.

“It’s uploading my messages with one of my friends. I tell my secrets to him.” His voice tells me he’s accepted defeat. The progress bar has finished uploading and I take my laptop and leave. I’m not mad at Jooyeon, but I wasn’t planning on confessing. I go back into Jungsu’s dorm and drop my laptop on the couch. I can’t hold myself up anymore and let myself fall to the ground. My face is buried in my arms. Tears start rolling off of my face and down my arms. I look up and the candle we lit is in the middle of my screen. A text box below tells me to light it.

Of course my curiosity gets the best of me and I click it, lighting the digital candle. Messages start popping up. I notice the messages are between Jooyeon and that friend of his. His name is Jiseok. He asks Jooyeon about some girl. It makes my heart sting. He’s probably seeing my notes about him. I’m embarrassed because of all the dirty things I said, expecting no one to ever see it. One specific message pops up and stands out to me. ‘Her name is y/n, right?’ Jiseok said. The following message confirms I’m the one he’s talking about.

I feel a bit better to know he likes me, but he never mentioned anything inherently sexual about me. Thus when I hear him knocking on the door, I run and hide in Jungsu’s closet. I hear Jungsu gets up and goes to find Jooyeon. They’re just close enough for me to hear their conversation. Jungsu’s sleepy voice is confused.

“What is going on? It’s two in the morning, Joo!” He scolds our friend.

“I’m so sorry Jungsu. This is an emergency, though!” Jooyeon doesn’t sound angry or disgusted, but I can’t tell what he does feel.

“And how so?” Jungsu’s voice is more awake, and a bit sassy now.

“She likes me, and a lot!” His voice deepens and he draws out the words ‘a lot’. It sounds slightly sultry.

“Mhm, I kinda picked up on that. How’d you find out?” Jooyeon explains the entire situation which leaves Jungsu fully awake and in shock. It’s hard to listen to him talk about the things I’ve said in detail. I'm drowning in embarrassment. I wish I could disappear. I wish I didn't have to face any of this. I bury my head in my knees and hug my legs.

When I look back up, I'm in my room. Was I dreaming? I look around and all of my things are still gone. If it wasn't a dream, how'd I get here? I look and see it's still dark outside. The clock on my bedside says it's still two in the morning. What happened? I try to focus like I did last time. When I open my eyes again, I'm on my couch. I've already got a headache from the concentration, but I've gotta try it again just to confirm. I close my eyes one more time.

I try to focus like I did last time. When I open my eyes again, I'm on my couch. I've already got a headache from the concentration, but I've gotta try it again just to confirm. I close my eyes one more time, I try to focus on my kitchen, but thoughts of Jooyeon invade my mental clarity. Before I can back out, there I am, standing in front of Lee Jooyeon. I try to teleport back to my room, but he grabs my arms and sends a wave of electricity to me. It wasn’t metaphorical either. He locked me in place with an electric field.

His face is equally surprised and terrified. He lowers his hand and I swear I see lightning spark from his fingertips. Whatever either of us had in mind has been forgotten after realizing the effects of the shock. He moves his eyes from his hands to me.

“Are you ok?” He asks. That was his first concern? Not what just happened, but if I’m ok? I nod. I lift my hand up, curious to see if it’ll shock me to touch his hand. When our hands interlock, it doesn't hurt, but there’s a spark. His fingertips are rough from playing guitar, but his hands are warm against mine. Finally, we lock eyes. I swear I see something, I’m not sure if it’s the chemistry between us or the insane events of tonight, but I feel fated to him.

I grip his hand and shut my eyes. We end up in his bedroom. I push him down on the bed and climb on top of him.

“Not so fast now darling,” Jooyeon’s voice is low and flirty. He flips me over so he's now on top of me. He holds my arms above my head with an electric current. He smirks at his doings, seeing me unable to move by invisible forces.

“Cmon joo, please?”

“Please what?”

“Fuck meee,”

He smirks, pleased by my neediness. He wastes no time, his face disappears from my sight as he delves between my legs. His tongue is hot and wet against my slit. He sucks lightly, drinking in all of my fluids. I helplessly rut against his face to which he pulls away.

“Hold still.” He scolds me. His hands grip my thighs painfully hard. He lightly shocks me with his electricity. I do my best to hold still, but his tongue works wonders on my core. Before I can cum, he pulls away and sits me up. I obey him and let him put me into position. I'm on my knees, leaning forward with my front held up by the chains of electricity he has around my wrists.

"Think you can take me baby?" He whispers. His breath tickles my neck, leaving shivers running down my spine.

"Mhm" I say, but it comes out as more of a whimper than I'd like to admit. This seems to turn something in him as he seems more attuned to his instincts. He mounts me like some animal, pressing his length inside of me.

I groan at the way he fills me up. He's long and skinny, perfectly kissing my cervix. He doesn't allow much time for me to adjust before he starts moving. He doesn't go too fast though. His pace is fast enough to maintain the stimulation, but slow enough to feel every part of him in every part of me.

His arms trap me between him to hold himself up. Hot breath teases the back of my neck until his lips connect to my skin, kissing and biting at me. He bites down on my shoulder as he speeds up his thrusting. His moans vibrate through my flesh and bones. I feel he's getting close. He shifts his weight to his left arm, bringing the right to my clit and circling it in rhythm with his thrusts. I grow weak, my body taking control for me. My orgasm triggers his own, he pulls out just in time, stroking himself through his high and spurting ropes of cum on my back. Tiny shocks spread through my body, none of which are painful, but enough to overstimulate me.

Upon finishing, he releases me from his restraints. He lays beside me, exhausted from the moment we'd just shared. When he looks into my eyes, I swear I see a passionate glint of lightning in his gaze.

[nrdmssgs]

Darker matters (part 7)

Masterlist Previous part Next part

Angst Pairing: Nikolai x Olga 'Zhar' Samoilova Summary: The rescue mission Warnings: Swearing, description of physical damages.

Author's note: I am sorry, if my Ghost is not great. Thanks: My very important people: @siilvan, @homicidal-slvt, @sofasoap and @gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot. And my dearest @pale-elysium!

Despite his callsign, Snudge is a good fella: follows the orders, gets shit done and knows better than to ask too many questions. Maybe that helped him into Sedmis inner circle, that gathered around the monitors now. Despite their apparent winning position, everybody were silent, waiting for their bosses command.

“Can you believe it? The bitch is so desperate - she marches to my place with her mans favorite toy…” Sedmi sounds clearly amused, watching a combat helicopter, caught by both their radars and cameras. 

Something doesn't add up in this whole situation: a spiced Lieutenant, even the one banished out of some special forces, not even trying to hide the start of their platoons attack, sounds off. But Snudge is being paid for an effective work - not for doubts. So he keeps his mouth shut.

They all watch as the base's air defense system, the one good enough to battle against several warplanes, takes the lonely enemy helicopter down. Dense smoke clouds engulf the shot down bird of iron, while it's still up in the air. Something turns the helicopter around with incredible force, tilts it nose down, and it disappears on the ground behind tall trees. Their cameras don't record sounds, so instead of a loud crashing noise, they hear only a distant echo. 

It all feels so strange: one minute they foretaste a good fight with Nikolais army, and the very next minute it's all done. No battle, no nothing practically. One word gets stuck in Snudges head: anticlimactic.

Even Sedmi`s command to go fetch the bodies doesn't lift the mood in the room: everybody awaited at least some action. And their enemies turned out to be just a waste of space and time. 

“Years of building your PMC, just for some girl to waste it completely in a few minutes. What a shame,” thought Snudge to himself, driving their transport to the destination point.

The dark pillar of smoke hides behind tall trees as they approach the crash site and Snudge winces at the mixture of smells of burning rags, metal, plastic and something else. The clearing where the wreckage landed is a scene of desolation, when they finally arrive. The helicopter lay twisted and contorted, its once sleek frame now a gnarled skeleton.

Snudge is one of the last to exit their vehicle and walk around scattered debris. The shrapnel of the missile, bits of molten metal, and the shredded remains of the helicopter's fuselage litter the forest floor. He turns over some smoking package with the toe of his boot and tries to read what is written on it.

“Snudge! Come here!” One of his squadmates calls him, and he comes closer to the helicopter. It's hard to see what's inside with the smoke clouding his vision, but he can make out the outlines of several bodies.

"Ever heard of this bastard, Krueger?” His squadmate drags one of the bodies away from intense smoke. Snudge shakes his head and his colleague grins, looking down at the corpse with a face covered with dirty and half-burnt tactical net.

“They say, ‘if it speaks German and you don't see its face - run as fast as you can’. Well, good news, Snudge: looks like this fucker won't speak anymore. You can take a peek.” 

“Huge son of a-,” Snudge starts mumbling, but the words get stuck in his mouth as he peels back the net from the corpse's face. 

He never saw that ‘Krueger’ guy, yet the face is too familiar. Snudge met this man for a good dozen of times on Sedmis personal bodyguards rotations. This is surreal, impossible even: the guy was supposed to guard one of Sedmis residences. Yet here he was, his bosses family bodyguard. Dead. Dragged out from the Chimeras helicopter. Fighting a wave of disgust, Snudge unbuttons the jacket on the corpse and his worst fear gets confirmed: before him lies not a Chimera soldier, but one of his own colleagues. Killed long before the crash and dressed up in cheap imitation tactical gear.

“High alert, everybody!” That's the last thing, Snudge hears before his first squadmate falls before him, shot right in the temple. 

Suddenly, the tranquility shatters into chaos as a barrage of gunfire erupts from the surrounding trees. Bullets whiz through the air, ripping through foliage and flesh alike.

Snudge ducks down, scrambling for cover, his training kicking in. “The bitch was never desperate, she baited us, lured here to slaughter one by one,” cries out loud frightened voice in his head.

He sees his squadmates becoming disoriented, trying to identify the source of the relentless onslaught. Notices the assailants, camouflaged expertly among the dense foliage, picking off their targets with ruthless precision. Snudge can't think straight anymore, but his body automatically crawls under one of the cooling wreckages of the helicopter.

Anguished cries, mixed with the staccato rhythm of gunfire, create a chilling symphony of chaos and despair around him. It is only when all the sounds die, Snudges heart starts racing at a chilling thought: he hasn't reported back to the base, when he had a chance to do that while remaining unheard by his enemies.

In the dead silence fallen around him, Snudge hears approaching footsteps and a melody, whistled lowly. He covers his mouth with the hand and watches a tall Chimera mercenary checking on his colleagues and cutting the throats of those, who still breathed, when he came. Mercenary face is covered with a tactical net, so Snudge can't see his eyes, when he turns and looks in his direction.

“Krueger, three more minutes!” Shouts someone from afar.

Mercenary doesn't move. Only mumbles ‘es gab ein mehr…*’. Snudge gulps, remembering the last words of his squadmate. “If it speaks German and you don't see its face - run as fast as you can.” Only running is useless in his situation - the enemy is too close. 

Suddenly, all the radios of Snudges group wake up with the loud “Group 1-3 report your status, over.” All the radios including his. 

The mercenary with the covered face chuckles darkly and takes a step closer to where Snudge is hiding. 

“Eckstein, Eckstein, alles muss versteckt sein…*” half-hisses, half-murmurs mercenary, approaching him.

Snudge closes his eyes, breathes in and turns on his radio to make the last report back on the base.

***

Olga breathes heavily, leaning against the enemy base wall. The sprint through a dense forest with brief pauses on more or less open areas, where the enemies could reach her only to fall to Ghosts sniping, was a good idea, but only in theory. In reality, her body deprived of sleep, food and water was on the verge of giving up.

It's been around fifteen minutes, since Zhar reached the base, but she is still shaking so hard - she can't even undo her west to readjust the gear. 

“You'll need to lighten your loadout if you want to go in.” Simons' voice appears above her ears and Olga frowns.

“Didn't I command you to get the hell away, after you're done with sniping?”

“You didn't mention all the fun with Nikolais helicopter back then. Now I'm obliged to stay and witness his reaction.” Ghost ignores the irritation, that is clear in Zhars voice, and helps her take off the side part of the vest.

“My operation is not a Sunday fair, Lieutenant.” Olga grunts, but still takes out a printed base plan and starts tracing floor after floor with fingers, trying to decide, where can she use Ghosts help.

“... fucking Disneyland, if you ask me,” hums Simon, helping her with the other side part.

They were almost done with the planning, when someone barked ‘the fuck is this one doing here?’ from the darkness of the forest. Before Ghost could react, Olga straightens her back, her eyes growing cold, predatory even. This is not the Lieutenant, that left TF 141 once, anymore. Before Ghost stands the head of Chimera.

“You will address to my colleague using his rank. It is not ‘this one’, it is Lieutenant to you.” Her voice is cold and low - Olga always spoke quieter, when she was angry.

“Your Lieutenant is going to have Nikolai killed! Commander, dismiss him now! There's nothing, he can do, that I can't.” Krueger approaches them two quickly.

“I can watch and learn, without suffocating on my own ego, kid.” Ghost seems unbothered by the new face, even though that face is anything, but friendly.

“You say that again to my-”

“Enough!” Kruegers gun was meant to threaten Ghost, but Olga comes right onto it, ignoring the cocked hammer. She drags him far enough for Ghost to not hear, what she's about to say to her soldier. 

When Zhar comes back alone, her face is a bit more colorful. 

“He's always such a charmer?” Simon inspects his equipment, but notices Olga helplessly waving away.

“Krueger… deserves a much better commander. And I'm getting him one back today. No matter, what it takes.” Ghost freezes for a moment. He knows, it is not his time to teach Olga, so he just makes a mental note to watch her back today.

“Last thing, Simon.” She shows Ghost a photo of a man on her smartphone. “They call him Sedmi. The man, that took Nik. In case you find him first - Sedmi stays alive until I talk to him. I don't care, how intense he fights, I don't care, how much he insults you or your beloved ones - this man stays alive until I say otherwise. That's the only term, that I'm letting you inside on.”

Ghost nods instead of an answer: he was never too easy to provoke. Part of him wants to ask Olga to stay and let him do all the work, but he knows, she won't listen to him. 

Two grappling hooks are launched synchronously: while Chimera groups are getting ready to infiltrate the base, starting from the ground floor - Zhar and Ghost are to make sure, enemy intel rooms are out of the game. After climbing up towards a dark window, Olga checks her watch. Ghost freezes, waiting for the command. 

Concerned voices are heard from below, something heavy falls and rolls loudly across the floor. The next moment, an explosion thunders at the opposite end of the building. Zhar looks up at Ghost and smiles unkindly. The next time, she speaks, her voice sounds unfamiliar, although, the phrase she uses comes from their operations in the Task Force.

"Hell is empty, soldier."

***

Simon would never admit it, but it was nice to be part of a private military operation, away from civilians. Of course, Prices group was his home, but a complete freedom, he got with Chimeras, was, in its own strange way, intoxicating. 

Remain unseen, and you can clean up room after room. Methodically and silently, just as he loves it. Ghost didn't even fire his gun - there was enough time to slaughter every last one of the enemies with a knife and a little bit of creative thinking.

Keep an eye out for Sedmi, and you can do as you please with others. Nobody cares, how ugly the aftermath of your work looks like - none of these nameless faces will ever be on news. At one point, Ghost and Zhar break in the intel security center with a few operators, monitoring video streams from surveillance cameras and reporting on Chimera groups dispositions. They neutralize two of the three operators and split: Simon works magic on the keyboard, trying to disable surveillance systems and alarms, and Olga rushes after the escaped soldier. She reaches him somewhere in the hall. Ghost turns to check on her and is relieved to notice that she has already knocked the poor guy to the ground. The soldier tries to defend his life with an entrenching shovel, that he got god knows where, but Zhar forcefully snatches the improvised weapon from his hands and hits him in the face with the tip of a shovel. 

Watch Zhars six and everything will be alright. Ghost hasn't forgotten that. He watches as she turns guys face into a bloody mess of flesh and bones, growling, ‘these are my people, you're trying to hunt down’. He looks, even when her strikes lose any practical purpose, because the solder under her breathes no more. Simon turns away for what feels like a moment. But it is enough.

He hears a short curse and heavy stomping echoing down the corridor. When Simon finally turns off the surveillance system and runs out of the room, he sees a tall, heavyset fighter pinning Zhar against the wall and strangling her with the shaft of the shovel that was in her hands a moment ago. Ghost's hand is already touching the holster when Olga, with incredible effort, twists herself out of the soldier's steel grip. She manages to take a few steps to the side when her opponent throws a bloody shaft after her. It flies over her head and breaks half of the window glass behind her. 

A cloud of glass engulfs her for a brief moment, and she covers her face with hands, losing sight of her opponent. And this is enough for his winning move: the soldier jumps up to her, grabs her by the shoulder and neck, and forcefully pushes her straight onto the broken glass still sticking out in the window frame.

With a quiet crack, the glass disappears somewhere under her ribs. Olga makes a strange sound: not a scream, but rather a hoarse exhalation, as if all the air was leaving her lungs at once. Ghost rushes towards her as fast as he can.

Krueger appears on the opposite side of the hall, pointing his gun at the soldier, pushing Zhars side down on sharp glass. All he sees is his commander in a need of help. He doesn't care for Ghost running to Olga and screaming ‘don't shoot’. Krueger pulls the trigger and his bullet is sent right in soldier's head. 

The enemy freezes, opens his mouth, loses his balance and falls on top of Olga with his whole body, making the last centimeters of glass disappear somewhere deep in her flesh.

“F-f-fuck!” Simon pulls the dead body away from Zhar and feels, how his hands run cold, while her pupils grow wide. 

All, Krueger saw was Olga fighting a soldier, not being able to push herself away from the window for some reason. All, Simon saw at that moment, were his own hands, removing side sections of her vest before the operation, leaving her without any defense in these areas.

es gab ein mehr - there was one more

Eckstein, Eckstein, alles muss versteckt sein - come out, come out, wherever you are

[kaija-rayne-author]

Really starting to feel like a conspiracy theorist over here with Dragon Age, but I'm just thankful the special interest is sticking around.

In the scene where you ask Solas if he wants the power of the well... he sounds pretty vehement in that scene. And shuts the possibility of him being the one down rather abruptly for such a smooth speaker.

What if he knows it'll enslave him again?

There's a working theory that Mythal enslaved him based on a few bits of lore, one of which is his forehead scar. It's canon that he got it when he burned Mythal's vallaslin from himself.

Which, if he was entirely pleased with her/her actions, why would he do that? "Burn the vallaslin"... that must've hurt like blazes.

In his time, they were supposedly slave markings. I don't think he was lying to Inky about that. He generally doesn't lie smoothly or well. He can act, but only to a certain point.

Finished Tevinter Nights and was absolutely blown away by The Dread Wolf Take You. Charter is my new favourite bad-ass.

Like with many anthologies, some stories I blew through, and some, the author's voice just didn't work for me. In one or two, the antics the characters got up to dearly needed a 'hey, uh, physics doesn't work that way and have you ever actually seen a great coat?' poke or three from a decent developmental editor.

By and large, most of the stories were good. I've definitely added to my list of things I think likely in Dreadwolf. I get the strong impression we'll be seeing at least some of those characters, monsters, or locations again in Dreadwolf. Highly recommend reading the books and comics, btw.

They're quite fun, and add a lot of lore and context to the games. I've still got The Missing to read, then the companion books. I will say the first book, The Stolen Throne, is a bit rough and feels anticlimactic. But the rest are good to mind-blowingly awesome.

[guiraguira]

Hello! I saw that you posted how guys would react to a naughty video of his gf, can I ask Gentaro x fem reader, who pranks Gen by sending her a picture saying she's horny but really she's just bored being alone?

It's okay if you don't want to write it, but there are so few Gentaro stories u.u

Was a lie ✨

Hi! That possibility had not occurred to me, but of course! Plus it sounds like a lot of fun!

Warnings: A bit of a hint about sex, but nothing overt. spicy photos

Gentaro x reader

It was already your second day off that you didn't spend with him because his schedules don't match, you knew he was in a meeting with his editor and hopefully, maybe he'll be back by nightfall, they could still share some time together, but it wasn't the same.

You're about to send him a message just to wish him luck in the interview when it occurs to you that you could play a little prank on him. Followed by your good luck wishes, you ask if it really is a long time before he arrives.

"I know, sorry honey... the meeting hasn't started yet" after taking some time he writes another message "I'll make up for it, I promise it won't happen again" you feel a little guilty for what you're going to do after reading that last one.

Lying on the bed, you undress keeping your underwear, placing a hand on your crotch and squeezing it with your thighs, looking for the best angle before taking a photo and sending it "Gentaro, I don't think I can take much more" just a few minutes pass before he sees it.

Your message remains seen for a long time, you can see how he tries to write something but he deletes it repeatedly before finally replying to you. "It must be a joke, but thanks for the photo I'll save it well" oh, well it may be very obvious but don't let that win you over.

"Do I have to send you a video too?" This time he didn't answer, you thought he definitely hadn't fallen so you changed back, and you just went to bed to use your cell phone until you got bored. You were so bored being alone, you had nothing to do, not even your friends were available today.

You thought about cooking something to entertain yourself for a while, so you started looking for the ingredients to make a dessert. Taking a last look at Gentaro's chat in case he had responded, but he hadn't.

While you cook you keep thinking about how sad it is that their schedules don't match. Your mind wanders into future plans about his upcoming dates, picking a place to go immediately after he gets back. This time there would be no way for him to fail.

You were about to finish when you heard the front door open and the noise of footsteps at full speed in your direction. Without time to react, you remain paralyzed in place as you see Gentaro running with all his things in his hands, without seeing you with the sole objective of reaching the room.

"I'm here honey!" For a brief moment there is silence again and his footsteps become softer "s/o!" He opens the bathroom door, but since you're not there either he walks more slowly looking for you until he reaches the kitchen "s/o?" His face can barely express the confusion he feels.

"Gentaro? You didn't have a meeting?..." they exchange glances waiting for someone to explain "you sent me that photo and I thought... I was too late?" You blink without understanding what it means, until something clicks in your brain. "Oh, I was lying!" You laugh because you didn't think your joke had worked, it wasn't in your plans for him to leave the meeting in order to come and please you.

"Lying?" He says that word like he doesn't know it, he can't believe he fell for a joke. He feels so silly, but he was so excited to play with you. A mischievous smile begins to grow on his face as he slowly approaches you. "You won't get out of this so easy my pretty little heart and I'm not lying"

Trapping you in his arms, he tickles you with his fingers until you cry a couple of times. He interrupts your laughter by giving you a totally anticlimactic hungry kiss. He loves the sound of your laughter and will do everything he can to protect it, but he loves your moans even more, plus he has to make you pay for your little prank.

[golden--goofball]

Hello :D (Anon since I’m a tiny bit nervous to ask, even though we are mutuals)

So you seem fairly educated on the topic of proshipping and the stuff involving it, and also like a pretty nice human being and I’ve been a bit confused about certain things regarding the topic so I thought I may as well ask

(Just to make it clear if anything in this comes off as mean-spirited or condescending you have my genuine apology I mean everything in this neutrally, I’m still new to the whole discourse so yeah if I’m accidentally misusing terms here or something correct me)

What exactly defines “proship” media? Like, what’s all that falls under the term? Because I had for the longest time assumed it was just adult x child, incest and other ships like that, but I’ve seen (on the very unreliable source that is Pinterest) that people call shipping yourself with fictional characters proship as well?? Which I just kinda assumed was normal- And stuff like bully x victim, some enemies to lovers tropes and even just kinks in general too, so yeah I’m very confused about what exactly “proship” even is at this point.

Also, adding onto the previous question, does all media that includes themes of s/a, incest etc. count as proship? Not just works that romanticise it but also stories that have characters that do such things even when the story portrays them as an immoral character? Or is it only when it’s portrayed in a good light?

Sorry for the long ask I’m just genuinely confused and curious, thank you in advance if you ever decide to answer <3

Have a wonderful day/evening/night

WOO okidoki this is a lot but i will do my best!! no worries about the length!! ^^

so, i'm sure you've seen it already, but i'm gonna put this chart image thingy here, just for convenience sake.

soooo letsss try to tackle this

please keep in mind (while i do appreciate you seeing me as super educated!! thank you!!! ^^ /gen) i am not actually the most knowledgeable individual and might get some stuff wrong, word things wrong, or not be able to answer certain things! especially since a lot of this stuff is very subjective and dependant on who you ask :3

"what exactly defines proship media?" if i'm being in 100% honest here, i don't really know! kind of an anticlimactic one to start on, i know, but i'll still try to answer. proship content, to me, is defined as content made by a proship individual or group of proship individuals with the intent of being for fellow proship individuals. this content may be completely normal fandom content that just happens to be made by someone who's proship, or may contain and explore dark themes. REAL PROSHIP CONTENT ACCEPTED BY THE WIDER COMMUNITY WILL NEVER ENCOURAGE OR PROMOTE THE BEHAVIOR DEPICTED IN THE DARKER CONTENT!!! actively promoting things like r*pe, pro-contact pedophilia, etc is NOT a proship value and its strongly discouraged and disliked by the general community.

not all media that explores these themes is considered proship. as i've said a lot of it depends on who you ask! unfortunately i really can't answer more than that :((

i hope this still helps out though!! thank you so much for the ask, anon!! (^o^)丿

[dicktat]

For Dying Light 2 ask

If u can change one the aspect of the story, what would it be?

Ty :3

Sorry this is talking forever but I really wanted to write a personal take on this. So below is my essay of an opinion and why I think Aiden should’ve been Waltz’s biological son

To start off, I think “Mia isn’t even his sister” is a god awful twits on Aiden’s behalf. Imagine spending the entire story finding some family member of yours and she’s not even related to you. I get the concept of found it adopted family but this is…how do it even put it, anticlimactic. It’s a twist but it was at the expense of logic and satisfaction and hence in my humble opinion a very bad decision. Twists made for only shock factors are usually considered bad and frankly this is a case of just that. Some twists should have buildups and foreshadowing and while I acknowledge that “Aiden has memory issues” is somewhat hinting towards him being an unreliable source of info, it was not made explicitly clear that, he would’ve misremembered something this crucial…while family is such an important factor to his character. His entire arc and personality was built on him finding his sister. And Hakon even asked what his plan was after finding his so called sister while Aiden outwardly admitted, he doesn’t know. His goal in life had very little foresight and his sole purpose is no more than just that. I understand Mia was no more than a macguffing and severs little to no purpose as a character, it’s still incredibly dismissive of a player’s effort as they worked towards a goal that perishes within five minutes of meeting.

I think it’s no less than obvious that I hated this ending, but this also ties into my next point of god damn it, a cliche twist doesn’t mean it’s a bad twist. I get the “I’m your father” shit had been done to death, yet when it’s effective, it really is. Imagine the shock we could’ve gotten, this paired with Aiden’s discovery of holy shit the mad scientist isn’t even a bad person would double the dramatic factor.

Also this completely deprived me of a universe where Aiden was raised by Waltz. We could’ve gotten a fucking Dr. Caldwell doing mad science shit but no Techland was a coward for this.

This is something that’s been on my thoughts for a good fucking while and I just can’t shake the idea of a mad scientist Aiden equally as brutal as Waltz but with a little sense of playfulness and sadistic tendencies. Meanwhile I feel so isolated with my evil Aiden ideas besides the few cool people actively supporting it.

And can we talk about how much, Waltz’s facial structure is similar to Aiden’s.

(Image taken from Techland’s website lol)

I’m not sure how to explain it but the bone structure, the nose and lips just…well you know? And I can actually see them being semi related. This is only a small part of fake evidences that supports my argument but nevertheless fun. I know it’s not completely valid but it’s not a bad opinion right.

Also off topic but look at this Waltz art he’s just so

I think Mia and Aiden would make for a fucking cute family and wether Aiden gets poisoned by Waltz and becomes completely evil is up for debate. Either way I think it’s just a concept that could be executed better. And in my personal opinion makes for a good twist. Sorry for the rant, but I just have so much to say around this topic. I think if this was implemented by the fandom it could make things a bit more fun and we have a new variety of au to play with. This is just a theory, a game theory. But if you find even a little entertainment in reading this, we’ll I’m satisfied.

Thank you so much for asking!

[pompompurin1028]

hi!! since i love your analysis and comments, i want to know your opinions on the latest ep since you’ve watched it too! i’ve seen a lot of people finding fyodor’s ending kind of abrupt and undeserving, the plot twist being anticlimactic and all. do you think his death should’ve been different? hope you are having a great day also!! you are one of my fav blogs 🥰🥰

Hi Dear anon, thank you for sending an ask! I am very honored you think my opinion is of value orz

I honestly also thought it was rather abrupt and anticlimactic because honestly multiple things.

Firstly, I feel like it's just such a waste to kill of Fyodor, especially when there is still so much mystery surrounding him and things about him that we hadn't even scratched the surface about yet? I just feel like there's still so much to Fyodor we can continue to explore and it just feels like a bit of a waste and for shock factor idk :(. Though I must say, I'm not sure how the current arc, well Mersault specifically can be solved without one of them dying, especially when Asagiri built it up to Dazai and Fyodor always upping one another.

Though I did like that that scene showed the difference between Dazai and Fyodor, something which I had expected and speculated on in a previous analysis. I don't really like the way in which they handled it. Similarly to this final episode, I expected Dazai and Fyodor's different on trust and relying on others vs distrust in other humans and the lack of need to rely on others will be revealed, I just felt that it's kinda done in a sloppy way idk :(. Especially the Chuuya was actually disguised as a vampire reveal, I just don't see how Fyodor wouldn't have known beforehand. Plus I wish that Sigma would have played a bigger role in that since to me, the previous builds up of the arc seems to suggest it. But that's just my opinion since I have wanted that for quite some time orz

[lorei-writes]

Hi Lorei,

I am asking about "The Dragon of Yss" ... questions number:

3, 9, 15

Thank you in advance!

Impromptu!!! Hello!

Thanks for dropping by! And with one of my favourite stories too >///<

3: What’s your favorite line of narration?

Masamune allowed himself to be carried by the river of people, the current being much too strong to struggle against. Instead, he opted to just take in the view: the bricks in the shade of ochre; various bridges and staircases, all paved with burnt sienna stone; private terraces, hidden under vibrant canopies; richness of goods sold at the stands – fabrics dyed bright red and deep blue, black pigment peaking from between the merchandise every now and again. Stacks of books coiled around stands of dried fruit, crossed by rivers of meat, wood, jewellery – anything and everything he could think of, all for sale if one was willing to pay the right price.

~ Dragon of Yss; Chapter I

It's probably fairly anticlimactic, but I like the descriptions from the first chapter of that story the most ^^" I think I did a decent job with them, especially considering my level of English at the time (and later during edits). They serve their function well.

The scheduling of this story was a bit of a mess as I was originally releasing it. I think that might have had an effect on its reception... Still, I remember how warmly received that chapter was and how excited it made people to read more. I was very proud of that.

9: Were there any alternate versions of this fic?

No, but I did consider a short sequel! It's... Still rotting in my drafts :')

15: What did you learn from writing this fic?

That I can write thousands of words just for one line of dialogue (“I guess you can always fuck a lizard.")

Jokes aside, though, I've realised just how many blind spots I have. My pacing was not so great. My plot was fairly simplistic -- I couldn't comprehend (and I'm still not particularly good at) combining multiple plot threads. I've realised just how fragmented my writing can be and that I don't do well with transitioning between the scenes. I also realised that I had a tendency to give only the information I considered absolutely necessary, which in turn resulted in a not-so-vibrant story...

... But it also gave me a chance to try my hand at fight scenes. Perhaps they weren't particularly great there, but I stopped being afraid of tackling them. It also showed me that I'm fairly decent at world building. >:)

Ask game

[usergreenpixel]

JACOBIN FICTION CONVENTION MEETING 30: CLISSON ET EUGÉNIE (2009)

1. The Introduction

Hello, Citizens, and welcome back to Jacobin Fiction Convention! So, today’s the day we get a rather unexpected author on the scaffold in the spotlight - Napoleon Bonaparte himself! Yes, THAT Napoleon, so you can bet that this is a bit of a unique book.

Turns out in his youth the guy wanted to be an author and wrote the short story we’re about to dissect. Granted, it’s a story he never finished and was apparently extremely embarrassed about it later (I can relate to that), so this is the second reason why this particular review is going to be a unique one. I don’t think we ever had anything unfinished as a topic.

Anyway, you might be asking yourself how exactly I found out about Napoleon’s writing in the first place. For that I have to thank one of the Neighbors, @tairin , who first brought up his writings in conversation long ago. Luckily, the unfinished drafts were published in English in 2009, so translation is available for those who don’t know French. HOORAY!

Unfortunately, the book is a bitch to find online but a website called archive.org came to my rescue like the proverbial cavalry. You do need to make an account there but afterwards it’s possible to borrow this book for 14 days like you would do in a library and read it free of charge. That’s how I read the book, considering the fact that negative reviews of my mutuals made me unwilling to pay money for an ebook or a physical copy.

Is it that bad though? Let’s find out.

This review is dedicated to @tairin , @theravenclawrevolutionary and @michel-feuilly .

Okay, let’s begin!

2. The Summary

The book tells a tragic love story of, well, Clisson and Eugénie. So it’s a romance novel. Also, apparently, a self insert fic with Clisson standing in for Napoleon himself. I have no idea who Eugénie might be though.

People who already know my preferences might remember that romance is my least favorite genre, but I still decided to give the story a chance, so let’s talk about how that decision turned out.

3. The Story

Honestly, it has a lot of romance clichés so the story just wasn’t for me. I didn’t detest it or anything, but I didn’t like it either.

I did, however, appreciate the beginning which shows us Clisson as a talented soldier who is tired of combat and looking for something else in life. It made the narrative just a tad more relatable, in my opinion.

Another point in favor of the story is the fact that Clisson and Eugénie don’t fall in love at first sight and the story takes time for them to develop proper chemistry. I’m not the biggest fan of the “love at first sight” trope so yay for avoiding it!

As for the ending… a bit depressing and anticlimactic but, as someone battling depression, I could relate to Clisson as I had moments where I was close to the headspace he has in the ending. Funny how depression has changed my opinion on some melodramatic moments in media…

4. The Characters

The characters are a bit flat, but not as much as in works of some beginner authors. Since it’s a short story, I’ll only focus on the main characters.

I honestly expected Clisson to be more of a Gary Stu, but I didn’t really get those vibes and could even relate to him towards the end. He has a more gentle, vulnerable side that few people get to see and, at the end of the day, simply craves love and happiness. He is more than just a hero obsessed with war.

Eugénie… I don’t like her and don’t care about her reasoning. I don’t like cheaters. End of story. But I like the fact that she fucked up this way and we didn’t get a blameless perfect love interest. She’s more than that.

Trust me, my first attempts at creating characters were much worse than what we have here.

5. The Setting

I liked some descriptions in the book and, for a short story, Napoleon managed to create settings in a way that’s not bad. Not excellent, but not bad either.

6. The Writing

Personally I don’t really like the writing style, but I tend to have that problem with many works of the past. There’s just too much purple prose for me, but I know that some people appreciate it so hey, you do you.

7. The Conclusion

Overall, maybe I just had really low expectations but… I didn’t hate the story, nor did I like it. Romance genre is just not for me and I’m the absolute last person who should review romance novels.

I went in fully expecting to hate the story, but I don’t. Maybe I just have more patience for beginner authors, maybe I’m just in a good mood. Either way, I can’t quite recommend the book, but I still think it’s an interesting read, if only to get a glimpse into a facet of Napoleon that isn’t talked about much.

On that note, let us finish today’s meeting. Stay tuned for updates, Citizens!

Love,

Citizen Green Pixel

[gregorygerwitz]

[ ID: tags that read ‘#i have so many questions about the scream AU #i just have no coherency to ask them #or want to know things that would give away the plot #like if this does get written #will the party be described? #how does the killer get unmasked? #and more questions that i cant figure out how to put into words yet’ /end ID ]

tags are from @tealmoonlight

[ scream au moodboard ]

So, here’s the thing... I’m equally as incoherent about this AU, so we’ll be fine. If you come up with anything else, just ask. I’ve already told a few people who the copycat is I just want to yell about my kids and all the trauma I’m putting them through (I swear I love them I just also love horror films! so I’m combining my loves)

If I had the time I’d be working on this right now and I wish that was more of a joke than it is

warnings: death, canon-typical violence, horror film-typical violence

Under a cut because I’m so excited about this concept and this is gonna be long thank you for asking even these I will try to make sense 💜

If this gets written, the party where the Cozy Trio were attacked would be like... the prologue, so to speak? It would be partially described, or at least the scene that Trudy, Voight, and Al find would be described. I have to start right off the bat with Mouse covered in blood and suffering and protecting two kids - for reference, he was 17, while Jay and Hailey were 15, and the attack happened at his party he held while Thelma and Gregory were at a fundraiser and therefore not home. He absolutely feels partially responsible for everything that happened that night, because if it wasn’t for him, that many people wouldn’t have been in one spot for Knox and Disco Bob to easily find, and there would have been less carnage, at least, if not none at all.

So the way they’re found - locked in a bathroom with no windows so there’s only one entrance to guard, Jay bleeding from a few knife wounds (alive but clinging to it), Hailey scared and sitting on the tile floor next to him with less serious injuries but still plenty of blood on her hands and clothes, Mouse with a dirty cop’s gun raised and ready to fire at the door while he’s shaking too much to actually pull the trigger (again, because he already shot Knox to save Jay less than an hour ago). That would be described in the prologue, as an introduction to this universe and what, exactly, readers would be getting into. Just these absolutely terrified kids who survived something horrible and have to somehow move forward from that. The rest of the party and that attack might be described in flashbacks, later? Like when the copycat starts killing and the similarities are obvious to the Cozy Trio and the people who worked the original case? Things that would tie back a little bit more organically than just dropping all of it at the beginning.

The original killers get unmasked kind of anticlimactically? There’s not a lot of mystery in the original case, in a way. Knox is a college kid who crashed the party and no one there actually knew very well. At most he helped them get alcohol, but it’s the Gerwitz house so there was probably more just whatever they had laying around - wine, fancy expensive beer, top shelf liquors, stuff like that. And then Bob conveniently shows up shortly after the first kill, in uniform, claiming that a neighbor complained about the noise. They’re both people who are not supposed to be there, people who stand out in the small crowd of the party, so when the attacks continue throughout the night, there’s a moment of “wait, where are those guys we don’t know???” that kind of gives them away.

The copycat killings and attacks are the mystery, and therefore the focus of the fic, if it ends up happening. There are four attacks made by the copycat that lead up to their reveal:

an attack on a teen Halloween party, which alerts the team to what’s happening and sets them on the case and sets up the three red herrings

an attack on Jay, which clears [red herring 2] of suspicion

an attack on Mouse, which clears [red herring 1] and [red herring 3]

an attack on Hailey, where the real copycat(s) is/are revealed and taken down

This is like... over planned. Maybe I’ll write it for Halloween this year or something 😅 we’ll see. But until then I will happily babble about it and go on and on about all my plans (with the red herrings and copycat(s) redacted most likely) so as soon as you have more coherent questions, or if anyone has any questions (coherent or otherwise), absolutely feel free to send them!

[silverior968]

8, 13, 28 and 29 for the spooky asks!

Thanks for the ask!

8. What's this year's costume?

I was planning on being a Victorian ghost poet and hosting a Halloween party, but right now I'm not sure if I'll be able to do that. Here's to hoping!

13. Witches, vampires or ghosts?

Ghosts, probably. I also really like witches, but I think I slightly prefer ghosts for the aesthetic and tragedy. I've always loved a good ghost story, especially because I think ghosts can represent so many things. Like, my local library had a shelf full of ghost story anthologies and I read every single one of them, most of them several times, I have a few of the stories memorized still. I really like the Haunting of Hill House -style ghost stories.

28. Do you believe in ghosts?

I think I do? I regard myself as an agnostic in the sense that I don't think I know spiritual things for sure, but I like the idea of some sort of afterlife. But if we want to get philosophical, a ghost or a haunting can be anything, and even if we can't know for sure whether ghosts exist in the same way as people or houses, people can definitely be haunted, if that makes sense? Grief is a sort of ghost in my opinion. So yeah, I think I believe in ghosts, and I'm definitely not one to deny other's belief in them.

29. Have you ever seen a ghost?

This is gonna look a bit funny considering how deep I just went with the previous answer, but yeah I think I saw a ghost once. We were on a mother's day picnic in the backyard of this supposedly very haunted mansion turned museum (my grandfather used to work there as a boy and has told stories, and it's a well known haunting spot). I was maybe 4-7 years old? I just happened to look up and in one of the windows I saw a completely white human shape. The museum doesn't have any cutouts and it was completely white, no impression of clothes that a living person would have. I wasn't scared or anything, I just went back to eating. Very anticlimactic, I know. I'd like to see a ghost again someday.