#original thought for once in your goddamn life and maybe don't use other peoples work to make yourself look smarter

[superhell]

,

[heyyyharry]

Happier

(inspired by happier by Olivia Rodrigo)

Word count: 2.4k

I'm selfish, I know, I can't let you go So find someone great, but don't find no one better I hope you're happy, but don't be happier

Part 1: Drivers License

Part 2: Deja Vu

A/N: I edited the original lyrics to match the POV :)

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Harry had come up with a thousand scenarios of how this day would play out. Actually, he’d been thinking of this day since the moment he’d received the news. He didn’t dare to hope that she’d say yes to coming back for a sequel. He’d been sure that they would write her character off, give a lame excuse for how his love interest could not make a return and make his character forget about her completely to move on with a new girl in town. It would have been great if it was that easy in real life. Once someone was written off the script, they were gone for good. Real-life relationships were not that simple. Goodbye didn’t mean ‘never see you again’. You would still share the same friend circle and social bubbles, and it was worse when you two worked in the same industry. Harry didn’t know how he’d lasted a year without running into her, not since the Grammys.

“Didn’t you two date?”

“No.” Harry shook his head, but his eyes stayed glued on Y/N from across the room. She wasn’t looking his way, too busy saying hello to everyone else. “No,” he repeated, more to himself than to his co-star. “We didn’t.”

“But she wrote an entire album about you,” said the other twin. What was her name again? Lulu?

“Luna!” cried her sister, Lex. “You can’t ask him that!”

“No, it’s okay,” Harry said with a tight smile, slightly annoyed by the blonde twins, but he didn’t want to seem like an ass on the first day of filming. “And I don’t know if it was for me. You should ask Y/N.”

“Ask me what?”

Harry flinched when he looked up and saw Y/N padding towards them. She hugged the twins, who seemed way too excited. Harry guessed they were Y/N’s fans. They gave off crazy fangirl vibes, probably just pretending not to know the drama to interrogate him. He couldn’t blame them for assuming he was the villain and definitely could not blame Y/N for portraying him as one. It was more important that he knew who he was and how much he had changed since his last relationship. Maybe they could finally be friends.

“Were they bothering you?” Y/N asked him once the twins had left.

Harry nodded. “They’re your friends?”

“Oh, I met them last year on tour. I’m surprised you don’t know them. They were on Disney.”

“I don’t watch Disney,” Harry admitted with a smile. “Well, not today’s Disney.”

“Understandable.” Y/N nodded and bit her lip. She seemed guarded with her straight back and hands hidden behind her. She eyed him up and down, quite subtle yet noticeable. “How have you been?”

“Pretty good,” he said, nodding slowly. “You?”

“Yeah, but mostly tired because of tour.”

“You’re done?”

“Yup, last night was the last show.”

“Nice.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Nice?”

Harry blinked. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No.” Y/N giggled. “You still sound very...you.”

“Well, shouldn’t I?”

“Yeah, you should. But it’s been a year so…I mean, you haven’t changed much.”

“Right,” he said lowly, his eyes falling to his feet. Harry supposed he should say something else, perhaps bringing up another random topic to discuss, but all he could think about was what had happened between them. Things had been messy, hadn’t they? How could they go back to before that? Before her first song about him. Before he’d chosen someone else over her.

Or he could talk about her new relationship. She’d been in a happy relationship for almost six months, right? No wait, hadn’t they broke up two weeks ago? He wasn’t sure because he hadn’t been catching up. If they’d broken up, he’d sound like an ass to even mention her ex’s name. He should just stay quiet.

“I’ll see you later?” she said, gesturing at her stylist who was waiting by the door.

Harry could ask her right now -- the reason she’d agreed to film the sequel to their first movie together. He’d heard from a very reliable source that she’d specifically asked her agent to decline any project that he was in. So did this mean they were good? That she didn’t hate him anymore? He could have gathered his courage and got the answer right then…

“Yeah, see you.”

...but he didn’t.

And so she gave him a smile and a little wave, then happily returned to her stylist.

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“See you tomorrow, Y/N!”

“See you, Annie!” Y/N said as she put the rest of her things into her tote bag. Her new driver had got her schedule mixed up, and so she had to wait here for another half an hour. She was in no rush. It had been a light first day, and she’d had a fun time getting to know the new cast members and catching up with old friends.

She sat on the sofa in the lobby, legs crossed, texting her best friend about her day. She’d purposely left out the short off-screen conversation with Harry, and her best friend didn’t even bother to ask. In their world, he didn’t exist, and his name was censored in every conversation like a curse word that was even worse than ‘cunt’. Nevertheless, she didn’t hate him anymore. She was doing just fine on her own, being busy with her career, and she’d been in a happy relationship after her fall out with him.

She and the guy, a model, had broken up two weeks ago due to long distance and some differences that they could not change. They had ended on good terms and decided to stay friends. They said you could only stay friends with your ex when you still had feelings for each other, or you had never loved each other that much in the first place. For her, it was probably the latter. Her previous relationship had been more platonic than romantic, apparently. So she had nothing but the best to say about him.

As she was going through her camera roll, just reminiscing about the past, she heard footsteps approaching and looked up to find Harry. He offered a smile and gestured to the spot beside her on the sofa. “May I sit here? My ride is late.”

“Yeah, sure.” She hurriedly scooted over.

“Good job today,” he said. “You were great.”

“Thanks, so were you.” She smiled, and they both looked away at the same time. This was so awkward. She hated small talk. She’d never had to have small talk with Harry. Conversations with him used to be so easy and natural and silly. Whatever this was, it wasn’t them.

“Can we just be normal?”

At first, Y/N thought she’d been the one who’d said it, so when she realised it’d been Harry, she was speechless.

He swallowed and sat a bit straighter, still not looking at her. “I don’t want us to be weird and awkward.”

“Okay,” she said.

He cleared his throat. “Wanna try again?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Okay, not to sound like an ass but when Joey kept forgetting his lines, I was so pissed off, I could throw a chair at the wall.”

“Right?!” exclaimed Y/N, feeling free to have finally broken out of her shell. “Like, he doesn’t even have many lines. I know he’s new but damn...you can’t get far if you don’t learn your goddamn lines.”

Harry shook with laughter. “Oh God, we sound like dicks, don’t we?”

“Maybe.” Y/N laughed, covering her mouth. “But you know what? We can’t be nice in this industry. It’s impossible.”

“Shhh, if someone heard this, we would be into big trouble.”

“Oh please, I’ve had worse articles written about me than ‘Y/N speaks facts about her lazy co-star’.”

Harry tossed his head back and cackled. “The worst one I’ve got this week was ‘Harry Styles hates therapists.’”

“What?!” Y/N gasped. “No way! That’s so stupid!”

“Right?” Harry rolled his eyes. “I could get all my therapists to speak up for me but I’m kinda immune to bullshit now.”

“Therapists? Like plural?”

“Yeah, one in every city.”

“Damn.”

“Yeah.”

Y/N rubbed her hands onto her legs. “Rough year?”

Harry’s eyes rolled to the back of his head as he leaned back. “You have no idea.” Then he swept his hair out of his eyes, sucked in a breath, and finally looked at her. “I wish I could have talked to you, though.”

She bit her tongue, knowing what she was about to say next would disappoint her best friend so much, but she had to. “So do I.”

Harry looked taken aback before his lips curled into a smile. “It’s silly, isn’t it? I haven’t talked to you in a year, and I feel like I know everything that’s happened to you except that I don’t.”

What he’d just said might make no sense for most people, but Y/N knew exactly what he meant. She nodded and wetted her lip. “You only know as much as everyone else does.”

“Yeah, I got updates on you from the news and our friends.”

“Same.” Y/N smiled back. “I hate how they write articles about your new haircut but not mine.”

“I like your new hair colour.”

“Thanks. I like your new car.”

Then they both burst out laughing. It was fun and also a little bit strange that Y/N didn’t feel the same anxiety talking to him as she used to. It must be because they had grown and were now meeting again as better people.

“Damn, my ride's here,” Y/N said as she read the text from her driver. “I gotta go now.”

“Oh, okay.” Harry stood up and followed Y/N to the entrance. “Hey, just wondering--”

“Yeah?”

“Am I...am I still blocked?” He looked a bit flustered as she tilted her head and squinted her eyes. “On your phone. Because I remember you having my number blocked--”

“I unblocked you on your birthday.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah.” Y/N shrugged. “I should’ve sent you a happy birthday text but...I didn’t want your girlfriend to get the wrong ideas.”

“My ex.”

“Yeah, I know.”

They smiled at each other one last time before saying goodbye. Y/N knew it was silly, but she was hoping he would go after her.

Ding.

A notification popped up when she was in the car. She was almost home, and it was from Harry’s number. He’d sent her a link with a message that said, “Hope you like it :)”.

Curious, she tapped on it and was directed to an audio file titled ‘Track 5’. The upload date was last year. About two weeks after their short conversation at the Grammys.

Hurriedly, she fumbled inside her bag for her iPods and put it on before she pressed play.

“Hey, Jeff, I couldn’t sleep so I wrote this song. Listen and let me know if it should go on the album.”

Then came the piano intro. It sounded good, so Y/N wondered how it hadn’t ended up on his last album.

But when he started to sing...

We ended a while ago Your friends are mine, you know, I know You've moved on, found someone new One more guy who brings out the better in you

And I thought my heart was detached From all the sunlight of our past But he’s so nice, he’s so funny Does he mean you forgot about me?

Oh, I hope you're happy But not like how you were with me I'm selfish, I know, I can't let you go So find someone great, but don't find no one better I hope you're happy, but don't be happier

And does he tell you you’re the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen? An eternal love bullshit he might not even mean Remember when you were with me I meant it when you heard it first from me

And now I'm pickin' him apart Like cuttin' him down will make you miss my wretched heart But he’s charming, he looks kind He probably gives you butterflies

I hope you're happy But not like how you were with me I'm selfish, I know, I can't let you go So find someone great, but don't find no one better

I hope you're happy I wish you all the best, really Say you love him, baby Just not like you loved me And think of me fondly when your hands are on him I hope you're happy, but don't be happier

The song was for her. He’d written it when her new relationship had gone public. Y/N sat there, staring blankly ahead until the honking of a car tore open her inner peace, and reality came crashing back in. The driver dropped her off at her house. Instead of going inside, she stood on her front steps and replayed the song one more time. When it ended, she decided to text him: Why didn’t this make it to the album?

She didn’t know where he was now, but it showed ‘typing’ in less than a second, as if he’d been waiting in their chat since he’d sent that link.

You would’ve hated me, Y/N.

True, she replied. Still, I would’ve loved the song lowkey. And added, I love it btw.

He took so long to type that it was driving her crazy. She flopped down on the concrete stair with her phone clutched in her hands, her heart thundering against her ribcage. Anxiety popped like a balloon when his message appeared: Were you happier?

She reread it again and again.

No.

I wasn’t either, he responded. I kept getting deja vu.

Ha, nice reference.

That song is my guilty pleasure. Love listening to you roasting me on loop.

That last message made Y/N bury her face into her palm and giggle like a fool. She thought for a second and wrote: I could come roast you in person now if that’s what you prefer. I think we’ve never had a proper roasting.

Can we meet, Y/N? Or are you busy now?

No, not busy.

Great, I’ll pick you up.

Just tell me where, she responded with a smile on her face. I got my drivers license now :)

[hotdamnhunnam]

I Wanna Be Your Slave

A/N: Here’s the next requested fic from my Dirty Little Secret – Super Kinky List! In which you and Jax are locked in a cellar and he ties you to a whipping post and whips your ass lol. Master/slave roleplay but in this fic (unlike some of my other Kinkfest fics...) Jax is actually a good guy not an absolute asshole. Title is inspired by the Måneskin song at the below link! **Please note the warnings: This fic is all about the kinks, please do not read if this is not your thing!!**

Pairing: Jax Teller x F!Reader Warnings: smut, swearing, dirty talk, rough sex, light choking, degradation, dom!Jax, bondage, master/slave kink, spanking, whipping Request: This Dirty Little Secret request (anon)

Word Count: ~3.8k

Note: As explained in this post, this ‘Dirty Little Secret’ series consists of fics that I had originally written for another character/celebrity, which I’m repurposing for characters of Charlie! So if the characterization ever seems a little off please don’t judge me too harshly 🙂 ALSO note that this fic is just straight up shitty – I wrote most of it years ago without giving a fuck and am not bothering with improving the quality, I sort of used to rhyme back then but not consistently so it’s a shitshow really, I’m just shoving Jax into the setup for this fic with zero context literally, and I realize that the kinks in this fic are totally not mainstream and super filthy, so for once it’s really refreshing that I’m not gonna be sitting around hoping that people will shower my writing with praises or that this fic will explode in popularity 🙃

**Please note warnings above**

Triggering content after ‘Keep reading’ cut…

***************

You're trapped in a cellar. 

With Jax Fucking Teller.

There's a whole fucking story behind how the two of you got here—some shit involving stolen guns, some rival gang that hates the Sons, your father being all politically significant and powerful enough that you're now being held as ransom—and honestly you should be crippled with fear. But this tall blonde bastard is so fucking handsome. You've been crushing on him for years. And nothing else matters right now when you're so fucking horny for him that you're damn near to tears.

He looks and smells goddamn divine. You know that's not the kind of thought that should be running through your mind. Not here, stricken with fear for your safety. It's crazy. But losing yourself in desire for Jax just feels... fucking unreal. So damn good. Better than it should. It's comforting, or something. Dangerously comforting. In his presence, you don't even care if it doesn't make sense.

Ever since you got stuck in this mess, you've been clinging to him in the darkness. Clutching his flannel-clad arms in a tight grasp which quickly turns into a desperate caress. Through the cloth you can feel the incredible bulge of his biceps and God it's just...

"It's okay, darlin'," he says. Shifts to give you the comfort you crave as you bury your face in his broad sculpted chest. Presence warming and calming. Even after what's happened this morning, you somehow feel safe in the arms of the crown prince of Charming. It's totally fucked to be honest. "Hey, I'll get us out of this. Promise."

The silent answer in your head is beyond shameless. But here with your cheek pressed against his firm pecs... shuddering in bliss as you breathe in his mouthwatering manly essence... flooding between your legs, 'cause he is pure fucking sex... you could honestly just live and die in this man's godlike presence. You bite your tongue to fight the shit you really want to say, keeping it back. Please don't, Jax... don't get us out of this—I want to stay...

Neither of you has any clue yet that you're bound to serve Jax Teller in this cellar as his filthy little slave today.

With one hand still gripping his strong upper arm you reach up with the other, wrapping it over his leather-bound shoulder, clasping at the back of his neck and clinging to his strong sturdy body like ivy to brick. You can feel a faint layer of sweat on his neck that you're instantly dying to lick.

Your senses are reeling. Here, with him as you give voice to a wild irrational fear, you can't deny that dread isn't the only thing you're feeling. You'll take life-threatening danger if it comes with the reward of you and Jax fucking. "... are they gonna sell us as sex slaves or something?"

The hottest sound you've ever heard bursts softly from his throat. It's low and quiet, caught between a breathy laugh and breathless groan. You bite down on your lip then to stifle your own slutty moan. His bright blue eyes meet yours and you can feel the heat burning beneath, and from the way his tongue traces along the edges of his teeth, you can tell the answer to your question is no.

That's not the answer you want, though. It's precious that Jax doesn't already know. Some part of him probably does but hell if it won't take a little more for him to let it show.

You're gonna give him more than just a little more.

With a bat of your lashes, your flirtiest dirtiest smile flashes; you drop to your knees before him like a whore.

"Oh f—" he mutter, too shocked to even utter the full curse, sapphire eyes wide in wonder, "what are..."

"Practice," you purr as you lick your lips, eager hands framing his hips. "If I'm gonna be a sex slave then I think I should practice performing... service..."

Jax sucks in a sharp hiss as you bury your face in the crotch of his jeans, massaging his dick through the denim with your doting mouth till he's harder than he's ever been.

"Practice makes... perfect, doesn't it?" you say as you savor the smell and the feel of his meat. Good enough to eat. "Though you already are, Jax. Every inch of you is perfect. That's a hard fucking fact."

Jax throws his head back, huge cock throbbing with a luscious twitch. "Son of a bitch..."

"Mmm, make me your bitch, Jax. Please. I wanna be your slave. Serve you in every way. It's what the slut inside me needs... and craves..." you shamelessly confess as your hands set to work on his fly to unleash the glory of Jax Teller. "Nothing else even matters today. We're here now all alone together, in this shady little cellar..."

When his cock springs free you could swear that this piece of meat is your entire life's purpose. All set to be worshiped and serviced, because his delicious existence demands and deserves it. He's so. Fucking. Perfect.

You gaze up at his gorgeous face as you melt in his presence, and finish your sentence. "... so let's make it fucking worth it."

*************** 

The first order you take from Jax Teller, as he finally falls into his role as your master right here in this cellar... is to get your filthy hands off of his dick. You are not to touch it till you've fucking earned it. Like a dog, like the bitch that you are, he tells you to just sit. 

To stay down on your knees and to not move an inch, not even turn your head as he strides toward the far wall behind you, brutally keeping his beautiful self beyond your field of vision for a minute. 

You bite your lip, listening to the footsteps and movements that he won't let you witness. Rustling noises. You hope that he's stripping off his stupid clothes. That when you see him next, he'll be towering over you gorgeously naked.

And God yes, he is, when he returns at last to stand before his bitch. You groan in sheer bliss as your awestruck eyes try to take in every last flawless inch of his smooth, glowing skin. There is just... too much perfection. You couldn't even process the divine glory of Jax in a whole damn lifetime, let alone one split second.

Hypnotized though you are by him, your gaze then shifts to notice what he's holding, and... holy shit. Apparently he hadn't gone to the far wall just to undress. 

He had taken stock of the supplies and other items stored down in this shady cellar and he has returned bearing gifts: a coil of rope, long and thick, and a wicked-looking leather whip.

"Like what you see, huh?" he taunts, no doubt referring to both his new toys and his nude body, especially his dick. "Kinky little bitch. Now get up and strip."

"Yes, Master," you blurt out, rising to your feet, hastening to obey his order.

"Bad slave. You are not to speak until I say you can," Jax commands, taking a deliberate step toward you. With both rope and whip clutched in one fist, he reaches to cup your chin with his other hand. "Do you fucking understand?"

Fighting your burning urge to scream yes sir, somehow you keep your lips sealed and just nod your head.

Jax's blazing blue gaze devours your face as his fingers descend to frame your jawbone, then to close around your throat. "That's a good slut. Keep that dirty mouth shut. Or else you're gonna suffer some serious punishment."

Fuck—hearing him talk like this, while he strangles your neck in his dominant fist, is too much. You've become a trembling mess beneath his touch.

"Mmm, look at you shaking. Desperate piece of shit. I'm starting to think that maybe punishment…" he whispers in your ear as he tightens his grip around your neck, "...is what you fucking want."

Oh God, your inner voice grunts, struggling not to say it aloud. In the most painfully perfect way, the fact that he's choking you now actually makes it easier to stay silent.

His husky growl and twisted words are sending waves of pleasure through your body, hitting all the spots you never knew you had and soaking up your cunt.

"Yeah, you're begging for it. Already ignoring your master's orders. Disobedient bitch," he scoffs, shoving you up against a nearby wall, his every movement rough and quick. "Didn't I tell you to strip?"

Before you can even manage to nod at him, still just staring, Jax's hand drops from your neck down to the fabric of the fancy buttoned cardigan you're wearing. Your daddy is rich, so you typically dress like a spoiled little bitch.

"Need me to show you how to do it? You that fucking stupid?" he sneers, suddenly yanking it off you with just a few effortless jerks of his wrist. "Now take off the rest. And then go stand against that beam. Hands on the wood, head down, with your ass facing me."

Jax steps away, sharp blue glare dark and daunting as he watches his slave scurry to obey. In a matter of seconds, your clothes and shoes have been flung off, and you practically throw yourself against the wooden beam, grabbing the jagged surface desperately, wincing as the splinters graze your fingers. Even that sharp little sting feels good, because this is what Jax wanted.

You keep your head bent low, bowed submissively per your master's orders, breathing shallow as you feel his presence coming toward you from behind, steady and slow. A gasp slips past your throat when you feel his calloused hands upon your wrists, binding your hands to the beam with the thick, heavy rope. The knots securing you in place are strong and tight, expertly tied. This must not be his first time doing this, you realize, beyond turned on by his well-practiced dominance. By just what a masterful master he is.

"Mmm. You look so fucking pretty like this," he rasps, leaning over your body with his massive cock grinding into your ass, sliding against the crack so that you can feel the tip of it, swollen and wet, hovering over the small of your back. One of his hands tugs at your hair, arching your neck backward a bit as his lips attack the soft skin of your throat in a harsh, biting kiss. "Beautiful baby girl, all bound up naked and aching to be punished. You gonna take it? Good and hard, just like the slave you know you are? Gonna be a good little bitch?"

His hot mouth teases at the corner of your lips, knowing how badly you want to kiss him, to taste him, fucking torturing you with it. Though his firm grip on your hair is anchoring your head right where he pleases, you're sure that he can feel the way you struggle now to bob it up and down, to give him your wholehearted yes.

"Yeah, that's it. Ever done this before, you dirty whore? This sweet ass ever taken a beating?"

You're not quite sure how to answer that—certain guys from your past have given your ass a few smacks, here and there, when you asked... but you don't know if that kind of thing really counts as a beating. The dynamic with them was never nearly as brutal and degrading. And they had only ever used their hands; no toys or torture instruments.

"Can't even answer the question? Dumb little bitch," Jax snickers as his face moves away from your neck, standing to his full height behind you, then stepping back so that his dick is no longer brushing against your crack, leaving you feeling emptier than ever at his absence. "Not that it matters. 'Cause I'm sure you ain't ever been beaten like this."

Ohhh shit, you think, inhaling through your teeth with a loud hiss as you feel the first soft touch of leather on your skin, his wicked fucking whip. For now he is just devilishly teasing you with it, tracing lines down your back with the tip.

"This what you want, slut? Gonna need to hear you beg for it," he orders, his other hand still tangled in your hair, pulling your skull more sharply back. "Go on. Open that filthy fucking mouth and tell me what you want."

"Thank you, Master," you whimper, letting all your shameless words fall out. "I want you. God, I want you to beat me. Hurt me. Please. I want pain, if it will bring you pleasure, sir. I want my punishment."

"Mmmmn," Jax growls, clearly incredibly aroused, and you could seriously cum just from that sound. "Bet you do, bitch. Let's see just how bad you want it, huh? See how wet you've gotten. Needy little cunt."

You've already been dripping now, for more minutes than you can count. The next sound you hear is a soft thud, which you're guessing is the whip having been cast down to the ground. Jax needs his right hand free to start going to town on your pussy.

The words that have just come out of his mouth, coupled with the feeling of his fingers making contact with your slick mound, sliding over your clit, slipping into your slit and stirring you up, swirling your wet heat around, then plunging three digits in knuckles deep, pushing in and back out slowly first before he starts to fucking pound... this just brings all the walls inside you crashing down. Floodgates in you burst open on the instant as your arousal uncontrollably gushes out. It's killing you to stay silent through all of this, but you don't dare disobey his orders, don't dare make a sound.

"Holy fuuuck," Jax grunts as he pulls his hand off of your cunt. "So wet. Tight pussy squirting all over your master. Such a dirty fucking slut."

He reaches over you to shove his sloppy, sticky fingers in your mouth, your cheek pressing against the wooden beam, as you obediently suck them clean. You're not usually one to enjoy your own flavor that much, but fuck, it tastes better than ever now that you are being fed by him, the sex god of your dreams.

Then as soon as his fingers pull out, he leans in and angles your head toward him so that he can kiss your mouth, and holy—wow. 

You know right away that you could never get enough of the feel of his full, luscious lips against yours, the taste of his talented tongue as it fucking invades and explores. He hums and groans into the kiss, sending resonant vibrations of his dominance down your throat and all over your mouth, and damn, you kind of really want to die right now.

But you don't. Of course, not yet. More than anything you're still desperate for your punishment.

"Fucking perfect little slave," Jax snarls as he pulls away, and you can hear him squatting down behind you to pick up his whip. 

Before he does, while he's down there on his haunches, he takes the chance to manhandle your ass cheeks, groping firmly and then biting down on one of them, pausing to admire the mark that he made on your flesh with his ravenous teeth, then giving that spot a wet, open-mouthed kiss, and finally a sharp, stinging slap. Your knees buckle from how much you fucking liked that.

"Slut," he chuckles as he gives that cheek a few more smacks, each harder than the last. He makes sure to give the same sweet kinky treatment to the other cheek, biting and kissing then spanking both halves with his big, sturdy hands before he finally picks up his whip, one palm still groping your ass as he stands.

"Ready to feel this whip lashing your pretty little ass?" Jax dominantly asks. "Tell me, slave. How many do you want."

You're so blissed out right now that you barely have control over your lolling tongue. "Uh... uh—a lot."

"That's not a number, slut. Give me a number you can fucking count."

"Ughhhh..." you groan out as he trails the strip of leather wickedly against your ass, "...umm, a hundred?"

A soft laugh escapes his throat. "That's cute. You must be new to this, darlin'. I'm not about to beat you dead."

Some part of you right now kind of likes the sound of that. Which is maybe... sort of... bad? Jax is still talking, so for better or for worse, you don't have time to dwell on that.

"I can do a hundred. But only if each one is... weak... and soft..." he tells you, bending over your body to press his lips against your face again, kissing your cheek, tender and sweet. "Is that what you want? Or does this filthy bitch want it hard?"

His mouth has descended to bite down on your neck as he says it, causing you to cry out in bliss. "Fuck yes, please—hard!"

Jax huffs out another sexy little laugh. "That's what I fucking thought. I'm gonna give you ten to start," he offers, leaving wet kisses on the smooth skin that he'd bitten. "Ten nice and hard. That sound good, baby girl? And you just tell me if you want more. Or... if it's too much, if you ever want me to lighten up, or stop—"

"I won't," you blurt out. "God, Jax, I want... I need you to just fucking beat my ass off."

"Mmmn. Babe, you are fucking amazing, you know that?" he growls, fondly nuzzling your neck for a second before he pulls back, standing behind you, with his rock hard cock once again hovering over your crack. "But Jax ain't my name right now. Is it. What do you call me, slut."

You cringe at your own unforgivable error. "Master. I'm so sorry, sir."

"Yeah, you better be, bitch," he snarls, as the whip that has been gliding delicately over your body suddenly lifts away from your skin. "Fucking take it."

Holy—fucking—shit. The sharp, searing pain that you feel in that instant is so goddamn perfect. Electric, explosive, exquisite. Everything Jax is. Your life as you know it is finished; you live only to serve and to worship this god of a man who deals out such sweet punishment. You love it. You love him.

The rugged velvet sound of his voice in this moment just deepens your love for him, heightens your pleasure. "Count 'em for me, whore," he orders ruthlessly. "Want more?"

"One... Thank you, sir," you sigh, hazy from the incredible high. "Please, Master. More."

For a hell of a long time, Jax gives you everything you beg him for. And every second of the pleasurable pain is so damn dirty, so damn pure, completely perfect. But you both know that, given what a desperate slut and dedicated slave you are, you will literally never want him to stop. So Jax is the one who hits pause, when he decides he should. 

You never wanted it to end, but this is what your master wants—so as much as it saddens you, still you just give in, and still it feels good.

"Damn, baby," he breathes, dropping the whip, gently kneading your ass as he leans down to leave a trail of kisses up your spine with his soft, sinful lips. "Guess I should've known better than to ask you for a number. Such a good little slave. But we're gonna stop here, okay?"

"Yes, Master," you whisper.

"You know why we're gonna stop?" he teases as his mouth reaches the back of your neck. "It's not just because I'm done with beating you. Nah, the real reason is that... there's something even better I've been dying to do."

Part of you already knows what it is. And all of you wants it. Needs it.

Jax tilts your head to claim your mouth in a kiss, as his huge dick aligns with your soaking wet slit. "Mmmn. That's it, bitch," he moans into your lips. "Gonna fucking fuck you."

Every damn thing about Jax Teller is literally magic. So, as his massive cock basically breaks your body in half, as his heavy balls slap up against your cunt with each ferocious thrust so hard and fast, as his dominant hands grope and grab all over your just beaten ass... every inch of you feels so damn blessed upon contact. 

You can't imagine any better way to recover from your punishment. Not that you ever really want to recover from it—mostly you just want more and more of it—but no matter what you want, healing is what you need. 

And Jax heals just as well as he hurts. Even better, in fact. 

Once he's done fucking your pussy rough and dirty, shooting his divine cum deep inside you just the way you beg him to, he unties your ropes and then spends the next hour or so kissing and caressing and cuddling with you, massaging your ravaged ass cheeks with his hands and mouth, taking you to heaven when that sweet mouth eats you out, and even when he lets you worship his cock the way you've been dying to do, even when he grabs your head and fucks your face before he explodes down your throat, even then it still feels like healing. You both really needed that feeling.

He lifts you up to kiss you, deep and slow, on the lips before you are even done swallowing his cum. You let yourself drown in that beautiful face, hoping that Jax knows how damn good he tastes. How perfect he is in every way. That he is a fucking god, that everyone on earth should kneel before him as his slave.

When the kiss finally ends, as you both try to catch your breath for a few seconds, the cold hard fact of your predicament sets in again.

"We should probably put some clothes on, babe," he says, coming down from the high of his sex-heated haze. "Then I've gotta work out a way to escape."

You can tell that Jax sincerely meant it, when he'd promised he would save you from this place, and you don't doubt it for a minute. 

Still, there's no denying that you two are stuck in the middle of some serious deep shit. But after having experienced such punishment and pain and pleasure, such submission and service, such sex and love with Jax Teller, today down in this cellar—which you're pretty sure would not have happened under any other circumstances ever...

"Well," you sigh, breathing in his scent for what you hope won't have to be the final time before you die, "whatever happens next, Jax, this was..."

"Definitely," he cuts in to interrupt you with a few passionate kisses, then smiles down at you so devilishly it's delicious. So hellish it's heavenly. Finishes your sentence and it's just so fucking perfect. "Fucking worth it."

***************

… Sooo I know that was SUPER kinky shit, but I hope there are some filthy bitches who enjoyed it, and would love to hear if you did!! 😅❤️

– Main Masterlist

– Dirty Little Secret Masterlist

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[thevindicativevordan]

I really like this blog, your analysis and ideas for Superman and his characters was great to read! I hope you don't mind, may I ask what do you think about Hank Henshaw? Do you have any ideas for him?

I think he needs to be radically changed in order to keep working, because as of right now his entire character is "hey remember Reign of the Supermen? That was cool amirite?"

Henshaw was created in an era where the editorial mandate was "the only survivor of Krypton is Clark", and that meant Superman didn't have an "evil Superman" counterpart Rogue in the Post Crisis era the way Pre Crisis did. So the writers had to come up with ways to get around that, some of the workarounds I liked such as Bizarro becoming a clone that Lex makes, and some of which were just so goddamn stupid like the Pocket Universe. But all of the Post Crisis evil Superman counterparts got killed off relatively quickly, including both Bizzaro and Zod after they were used.

Henshaw though was in one of the most popular Superman stories of all time, and he was Jurgens baby, so he got to stick around. But he was a character who was created to serve a purpose in that one specific story, and outside of that what does he have to offer? Disguising himself as Clark and setting out to ruin Superman's reputation since Doomsday robbed him of killing Clark was a great motivation, but once Clark returns and exposes him as a fraud, Henshaw just doesn't really have the character potential to justify keeping him around as is.

Henshaw wants to kill Superman. Great! That sums up the complete motivations of 90% of the rest of Superman's Rogues (which is in part why they aren't on the same level as Batman or Spider-Man's). Henshaw is really strong and tough and can hurt Superman with brute force. Again, a lot of Superman Rogues can do that too. Henshaw is an "evil Superman" design wise. Putting aside the multiple evil Supermen we get these days, most of them just variants on "real" Superman gone bad, Zod and Bizarro are better known and more popular. Henshaw can manipulate technology and rebuild himself from anything. Brainiac, Livewire, and Metallo also do that. Henshaw can't die? Well he's eclipsed in that regard by Doomsday.

He's overshadowed in the aspects that most people focus on by multiple other villains, with only his ties to Reign keeping him relevant which is why Jurgens always calls back to that storyline with him. His motivation is just generic revenge which doesn't work because if he has no goal other than killing Superman, all he can do is fail. His name "Cyborg Superman" is dumb because it only works within the context of Reign when people thought he might be the legit Superman reborn. It's just not a particular inspired name for him to keep using anymore.

If it sounds like I'm just ragging on him I totally am. He just doesn't work for me in his current role as 90s nostalgia. But I do have some ideas for how he could be reworked to be better utilized in the modern day.

What I Would Do With Hank Henshaw

So first we need to change a lot about him while still working with what came before. Right off the bat I'm having Henshaw ditch the "Cyborg Superman" name and form, and use that all too brief "data form" he had in Action Comics Rebirth.

That looks cool! Now we need to address Hank's biggest problem: what does he want exactly beyond just killing Superman? What are some goals he can feasibly achieve that make him a compelling threat? They've tried giving him a new motive a couple times, such as making him a nihilist who only wants to die in Sinestro Corps War, but ultimately he needs a reason to keep existing. If he just wants death he can track Doomsday down or throw himself into a black hole. I've got two roads to take Henshaw down, one that's pretty simple but justifies keeping him around as a threat and allows him the ability to maybe "win", the other more complex.

The simple route is that we merge Henshaw with the Metaleks. These guys were an army of xenoforming robots who were sent out by some unknown alien race to transform planets into something that's more to that race's liking.

Their creators are long dead, but the Metaleks continue the task they were built for. Henshaw catches wind of them, decides they'd make for an excellent army to do his bidding in the same way the Manhunters were, and attempts to seize control. Instead he gets absorbed into their collective hive mind, his hatred infecting them until it warps their programming, his malevolent mind guiding them and lending them his intellect. Now the Metaleks are a swarm of locusts, out to cleanse the entire galaxy of all life, with Henshaw as the Metalmind behind it all (yes that is his new name, shut up I'm not getting paid for this). With Clark going cosmic, this makes for a good way to keep the two foes fighting each other. Henshaw doesn't have enough control to make the Metaleks focus solely on killing Superman, but his upgrades and coordination means the Metaleks are a much greater threat to other planets than they were previously. Henshaw can now potentially "win" by cleansing a world of life, something that is going to hurt Clark bad given Clark's entire background, and because anywhere not named Earth gets wrecked all the time.

That's the simplistic route. Upgrades Henshaw as a threat while reducing his motives to "kill everything". The more complex route leans into Henshaw's origins as a Reed Richards expy, by basing him off that other evil Reed Richards:

Jurgens had Superman imprison Henshaw within a fake life with his family and friends who died in the accident that gave him powers. I'd have that fake life knaw at Henshaw until ultimately he realizes that his feud with Superman is a pointless waste of time, and what he really wants is his family back and his status as a respected leader restored. But he's a mass murderer and there's no redemption for him at this point, so Henshaw embarks on a quest to build his own little world for him to rule over.

First he seizes control of the Metaleks as in above, but in this route he manages to bring them under his control, christening himself their Metalmind. With an army of terraforming robots on his side, Henshaw begins terraforming his own world. He also retrieves the corpses of his family who died from their mutations and begins working on resurrecting them. At this stage you can have Henshaw in any number of schemes to acquire the resources or tech he needs to build his own kingdom, or to acquire the bodies.

At the second stage once he's got what he needs, he'll start building. First he revives his family (while ensuring that they will be loyal to him above all else). Then he starts creating his "children":

He's been around long enough to know either Superman or someone else will come after him eventually, and Hank Henshaw is prepared. He creates a race of beings who view him as both father and god, who will give him the adoration he craves and showcase his intellect. At this stage you can have stories involving Henshaw where he dispatches his "children" on missions to prove their worth and test their capabilities. Clark has to find and stop these agents while also trying to figure out where they're coming from.

The final stage is when Henshaw is confident that his forces are powerful enough to take on Superman, and then he does the unthinkable. He petitions the United Planets to join as a member. To Clark's horror they accept, and as the head of a planet Henshaw now enjoys intergalactic diplomatic immunity. His creations are now seeded inside the United Planets itself, and Henshaw can put his efforts wherever he wants. He can run twisted science experiments with his family, be the fist of the United Planets alongside Zod, helping the organization grow in ways Superman would abhor, he can try to kill Superman whenever Clark attempts to block his schemes, with his ability to still wrangle concessions from the UP as a way to keep him from just losing all the time. He can be Clark's Dr. Doom in other words, that long term opponent who is always working an angle, and has an entire nation/world behind him he rules as a god.

To me that's a much more interesting angle than him talking about that one time back in the 90s when he was cool anyway.

[spectraspecs-writes]

Leviathan - Chapter 106 (Rena)

Link to the masterpost. Chapter 105. Chapter 107.

A/N - Since there's been some confusion about it in the past, thought I'd make it clear here. Carth's narration is in orange text, if the orange doesn't show up please let me know but with tumblr's new post editor it should work. Bastila's narration is pink - my original idea was yellow but not only would that be illegible it's not an option. Same deal, if it doesn't show up let me know. Plus, I don't know if anyone watches the videos when I add them to chapters, but this one, you gotta watch this one.

@averruncusho @ceruleanrainblues @chubbsmomma @strangepostmiracle thank you for reading, you get a tag. @skelelexiunderlord thank you for support, you get a tag.

——–

When the elevator opens, I get… a horrible feeling. Like someone’s walking on my grave. And no one mourns me. Everything feels cold. Like that dream on Dantooine. I think Bastila shivers a bit but I don’t think Carth feels it. But how could I know, he’s blocked himself off from me. As we fight our way through to hangar control the feeling just gets worse and worse. Seeing the Hawk makes me feel a little better, but not for long.

I don’t want to be here. This is the only way to get to the hangar, but I don’t want to be here at all. I’m not ready. I don’t want to be here. I can’t calm down. It’s dark. And cold. I don’t want to be here.

The blast door opens. We didn’t move fast enough. It’s him. It’s Malak.

Carth starts to step forward with his blasters but I reach out my hand to stop him. My dream will not happen. I won’t let it. Malak laughs, and it sends a chill through me. And also a strong feeling of hatred. But it’s not a general hatred, like I would have if it was like “knowing the things you’ve done and what you stand for, I hate you.” This is a personal hatred. “I hope you weren't thinking of leaving so soon, Bastila,” Malak says. His voice is channeled through an apparatus on his chin. He has no jaw. “I've spent far too much energy hunting down you and your companions to let you get away from me now. Besides,” he says, looking at me, “I had to see for myself if it was true. Even now I can hardly believe my eyes… tell me, why did the Jedi spare you? Is it vengeance you seek at this reunion?”

I try not to be nervous, but I can’t help it. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say, “I’ve never met you, this isn’t a reunion.”

He laughs again. Over and over again. What in the goddamn hell is so funny? “What?” he laughs, “You mean you don't know? All this time, and you still haven't figured it out? I wonder how long you would have stayed blind to the truth? Surely some of what you once were must have surfaced by now.” “Once were”? I’m a scout, I’ve always been a scout. What the hell is going on? “Even the combined power of the Jedi Council couldn't keep your true identity buried forever, could it?”

… no. What? No. No that can’t be right. That’s not me. That can’t be me, I can’t be… Revan. No, I’m not. I wasn’t. That can’t be right. But it was my face! No. No that can’t be right. It’s not right. No. I look back at Carth. He can’t look at me. But this isn’t right! I’m not Revan! I can’t be. I remember being a scout!

Is that why all this felt so familiar? The Sith on the bridge - I knew them? Maybe? Is that why Jedi training went so fast? Muscle memory? I already learned how to use the Force and fight with a lightsaber. And why Master Zhar said I was a special case. Why the Star Map on Kashyyyk knew me. But…

… it isn’t right! No!

“You cannot hide from what you once were, Revan!” Malak says. Shut the hell up! “Recognize that you were once the Dark Lord - and know that I have taken your place!”

“No,” I say, “No, this isn’t right. Revan is dead.”

“You do not yet remember, Revan?” Stop calling me that! “The Jedi set a trap. They lured us into battle against a small Republic fleet. During the attack a team of Jedi knights boarded your ship. The Jedi strike team captured you and the Council used the Force to reprogram your mind; they wiped away your identity and turned you against your own followers!”

No. No it’s not true. It can’t be true. No. No. “No. No, it’s not true.”

“You must have seen flashes of your old life in your dreams, Revan; memories bubbling up to the surface? Surely you must remember the battle in which you were captured?” On Taris… but she said it was just a dream. A memory. Her memory. My memory… “How you survived the final battle is a mystery to me,” Malak says, “Perhaps you should ask Bastila; after all, she was part of the Jedi strike team that captured you!”

Yes. She was. She was there. I look at her. I hate her. “Bastila?”

“It’s true,” she says. I hate her. “I was part of the team sent to capture Revan… to capture you.” I hate her! “When Malak fired on the ship you were badly injured. We thought you were dead.” They should have left me. But if they left me, I wouldn’t be here. I wouldn’t know Carth, or Jolee, or Canderous, or Mission, or T3, or anybody. But is that worth leaving a mass murderer alive? Is the fact that I’ve lived a better life away from the Dark Side worth all the lives Revan took? Am I worth it? “Your mind was destroyed, but I used the Force to preserve the flicker of life in your body. I brought you to the Jedi Council. They were the ones who healed your damaged mind.”

No. No. “But I have memories. I don’t remember Revan, but I remember a whole life. Planets I explored, species I discovered, stories to tell. I’m a scout!”

“The Jedi Council didn't restore your wounded mind, Revan!” Malak says, “They merely programmed it with a new identity - one loyal to the Republic! They tried to make you their slave!”

So… Bastila… I thought she was my friend! Or at least someone I could count on, someone I could trust! “You’ve been lying to me this whole time!”

“I wanted to tell you but the Council forbid it!”

“So once again you put an idea before a person!” I shout at her. I can’t help it - I hate her! “How could you justify that? How could you? How in your twisted mind could an idea be more important than a living breathing person?”

“They were afraid you might return to the dark side if you discovered your real identity!” she says, “You could have hurt more living breathing people!”

“But now you know the truth, Revan!”

I turn to Malak, and scream at him, “Shut the FUCK up! I’m not talking to you!”

He laughs. What part of “shut the fuck up” did he not understand? “And there is the Revan I remember! No longer holding back your rage!”

“What part of ‘shut up’ did you not understand?” I say. Even without a jaw, I can see his smug grin, but he leans back and crosses his arms. I turn my attention back to Bastila. “Why didn’t you just let me die?”

“For the same reason you are always concerned for the lives of others,” Bastila says, “The Jedi hold all life sacred, even that of a Sith Lord. I could not just let you die. Not if it was possible to save you.”

Malak laughs again. “Hiding the truth behind noble words,” he says, “The Jedi needed the memories buried deep in your wounded mind, Revan; there was no other way to bring them out. They had to keep you alive!”

I’m not listening to him. “And the new identity - why?”

“We couldn’t simply restore your true identity…”

“Couldn’t or wouldn’t?”

“Revan was too dangerous - we couldn’t.” Sounds like “wouldn’t” to me. “But locked inside your mind was information the Republic needed: the secrets of the Star Forge. The Council created an identity for you: a scout transferred under my command. Your subconscious memories were supposed to lead me to the Star Forge; there was no other way to get the information.”

“They made you their puppet, Revan,” Malak says, “and Bastila was the handler pulling your strings!”

“Why you? Why are you here? Why did they choose you? You were my friend - why would you do this to me?”

“I used my Force powers to keep you alive on that bridge - it created our bond,” she says. That goddamned bond! “I convinced the Council that I could use that bond to draw out your memories and lead us to the Star Forge.”

“Tell the truth, Bastila,” Malak says, “you wanted to taste the Dark Side for yourself! You knew the only way the Council would permit you to explore the Sith's power was through Revan's lost memories!”

“No!” she says, “I wanted to help you, Revan.”

I scoff. “But you wouldn't mind helping yourself along the way, I bet.” After all, she thought this was an audition for masterdom - she’s looked for power before.

“Revan, I thought this mission would redeem you; that it would atone for your past crimes. How else could you be saved?”

No. No. “You used me! You and the whole Council! I trusted you! And you used me and lied to me the whole time!”

“Rena, Malak nearly killed you, but the Jedi Council gave you another chance to live! They gave you a chance to redeem yourself by defeating the Sith!”

“A rash and futile hope,” Malak says, “The Dark Side is too strong, my power is too great! Even my old master is no longer a match for me!” He turns to me. What was before anxiety and fear is now firmly rage and anger. At Bastila, at the Council, at Malak, at me. “A small part of me has always regretted betraying you from afar,” Malak says, “I always knew there were some who would think I acted out of fear, that I did not want to face you. But now fate has given me a second chance to prove myself. Once I defeat you in combat no one will question my claim to the Sith throne; my triumph will be complete!” He reaches out a hand, and Bastila and Carth are both immobilized. “The Jedi Council were foolish to let you live. I won't make the same mistake. We shall finish this alone in the ancient Sith tradition: master versus apprentice, as it was meant to be!”

I am. Absolutely. Done. Today has gone on long enough. I have had it. “You wanna know something?” I say, “This is, categorically, the worst day of my life.”

---

Damn it, Rena! If she hadn’t stopped me before, maybe I could have shot Malak and we wouldn’t be in this situation! And now she’s fighting Malak alone. She doesn’t stand a chance against him.

But why should I care? She’s a Sith Lord! She’s been a Sith Lord the whole time! Oh, she can claim she doesn’t remember all she wants, but how can I know she’s telling the truth? How can I trust her? She deserves everything she gets!

But… it’s Rena. My friend. I saved her life on Taris, she’s saved my life more than once, she’s always been there for me. She found Dustil. Turned him away from the Sith. I love her. She feels right. And I promised to protect her. And then…

No. I promised to protect Rena. This is Revan. Revan, who led us during the Mandalorian Wars, rallied Jedi to our side. Revan, who won the war for the Republic. Revan, who betrayed us all.

I can’t forgive Revan. But I can’t forgive Malak, either. Malak gave the order to attack Telos. And I- I don’t know if Revan had anything to do with it, but Malak definitely did. He deserves to die. And the war has been a lot worse since Revan was killed. Wiped. Whatever. And if that has anything to do with the two of them, Malak is clearly the worse of the two. He deserves to die. And I want to take revenge on Revan myself. For lying to me. For using me.

Was any of it real? Was she ever on the side of the Republic, the whole time? Did she even love me like she said? Or was it all a lie? Hell, for all I know, she wanted us to be here. Maybe she sent a transmission to Saul when I wasn’t looking. Maybe she really did join the Sith on Korriban.

But I saw into her head. That first night on Korriban, whatever she did, I saw into her head. It was strange, the whole experience, but it was like I saw her whole life. She told me - well, sort of told me - that she could never fall if I was there. That she wouldn’t. She couldn’t hurt me. She couldn’t do that to me. And that’s how she told me she loved me. I don’t think she meant to. It just sort of came out. And it showed me that I loved her. Something I didn’t want to think about, I guess. Especially not then - I was so focused on Dustil. And Morgana. She died five years ago and I was never able to get her off my mind. Before Rena. And when she showed me inside her head… it all made sense.

But what if all that was a lie? How can I believe anything she’s ever - Rena, look out! In a fraction of a second, she dodges Malak’s lightsaber. And I feel her in my head, like I did before - “Thanks, I got it.” It doesn’t feel like her, not like it felt before, on Korriban. On Korriban, it felt… I don’t know how to describe it. It was like… coming home after a long time. It was a warm full feeling. A good feeling. But this, now, feels completely different. She feels almost… cold. Dark. Rushed.

Maybe that’s just because she’s fighting, she’s focused. But I saw how she yelled at Bastila. And Malak. She’s not the same at all, is she? She’s not the same Rena. And she never will be again, will she? The woman I… the woman I thought I knew - she’s gone. It’s just Revan now.

---

This was not the way I hoped she would find out. I wanted her to find out in a safe place, surrounded by friends, no more battles to be fought. Perhaps after we’d found the last Star Map or before we went to the Star Forge. Of course I knew she would have to find out eventually. I knew that a fight with Malak was inevitable, and that he would reveal her true identity. I just did not want that to be the first time she heard it. I wanted her to hear it from me. I wanted to be able to answer all of her questions in a calm, safe environment, a place where she could express all of her feelings safely, and understand why the Council did this.

Being captured by the Leviathan was the last thing I expected. Everything was going relatively smoothly. I was concerned about Korriban, but Jolee told me she acted exemplary, a fine model of Jedi teachings. As much as usual, anyway. As I’ve told her before, her methods are unorthodox, and she has a tendency to act emotionally, but she is dedicated to the wellbeing of others. I’ve regularly seen her put the lives of others before her own, as have the others. I never knew Revan personally - when she and Malak left for the Mandalorian Wars, I sided with the Council - but from what I’ve gathered, “selfless” was not a word others would use to describe her. Revan and Rena have many things in common, but I don’t believe they are the same at heart. Rena certainly has her faults and her shortcomings as a Jedi, but I could never see her falling to the Dark Side.

I’m ashamed to admit I wasn’t always so certain. Her feelings for Carth were concerning at first. As I said, I never knew Revan, but she had a reputation for hedonism, and Rena seemed quite the same at first. And not only that - her dueling on Taris concerned me, as well. She seemed very aggressive. But I came to learn I was mistaken in that assessment. She used dueling more to blow off steam than as an outlet for aggression.

Her identity was a mystery to me at first. I knew that the Council put her under my command, but beyond that they seem to have taken quite a few liberties in explaining her knowledge. She has a number of specifics when it comes to being a scout or ecology. And I don’t know where her crusade against Czerka came from. Perhaps these details came from Revan’s memory, and the Council just changed the explanation. Perhaps the identity was someone else, someone who died in the war, or someone from the archive memory. I had only met her briefly before the attack on the Endar Spire, and I doubt it was an encounter she’d remember. She was up late, fixing a droid. If I hadn’t known her voice I wouldn’t have recognized her. Most of what I knew about her came from a datapad, at first.

It took a long time before I stopped calling her Revan. I of course never said it out loud, but there were many times when I thought to myself, “Why is Revan doing that?” or “That is not something I expected from Revan,” or “Revan is getting on my nerves.” It wasn’t until Dantooine, during her month of retraining, that I began to think of her as Rena and not Revan. I never knew Revan, but Rena is my friend. And I don’t have many of those. It’s a complicated friendship, certainly, and we have our fair share of disagreements. But part of friendship is how you deal with those disagreements.

Although, I wonder if that friendship is over now. Not because of how her true identity was revealed, although that certainly doesn’t help. I know she disagrees with me, but the Jedi are more than simply an idea. The Jedi are the only thing holding the Dark Side at bay. Without the Jedi, the galaxy would descend into darkness, beyond hope, possible beyond salvation. Certainly that is more important than any individual. If saving Revan will defeat Malak, I have no regrets. If Carth suffering Admiral Karath’s torture would have aided the Republic, then I would consider that an acceptable loss. I wouldn't enjoy it, of course, but if it was necessary I would find a way to live with the consequences. And I gather Revan would have felt the same. But Rena doesn’t. Perhaps they are more dissimilar than I thought.

Rena reaches out to kick Malak, but before she makes contact, Malak whisks her into a Force whirlwind and runs. A coward, as he has always been.

---

Asshole! I could see it in his eyes, I was making progress, I was making a dent, and he runs!

I could just let him go. This is not going to be the last time we meet. It can’t be. The Star Forge is still out there. And Malak would like nothing more than to get rid of me now. I’m a problem, and the only way to stop me from being a problem is to kill me. I have no intention of dying today, if only because I need to give the Jedi Council hell. I don’t want to think about that now, though, if I think about that now I’m going to have a fucking panic attack. So that’s that. I’m going to wait for Carth and Bastila to unfreeze, and then we get to the Hawk and go. Easy.

But it could never be that simple, could it? Malak would not leave any avenue for me to just go. And even if he did, that wouldn’t be the end of the fight. Maybe there’s a tracker on the Hawk. Maybe he’ll follow us to Manaan. I have no idea how this will end, but it won’t end well.

I don’t want to be here. I don’t know what this feeling is in the pit of my stomach, but I hate it. Oh. Wait. That’s what it is. Nope, I don’t want to think about that now. I need a hug. But Carth is still frozen, assuming he could even trust me again. Nope, not thinking about that. I touch Carth’s hand, at least, looking for a little comfort. And he lets me read him. He hates it. God, that’s a horrible feeling. Nope, don’t want to think about that. Focus on the Sith Lord.

I think I saw Malak go through the door in front of me, rather than left or right. But it’s locked. Why? Why is he making this difficult? Let’s try finding another way into that corridor. Door on the right. There’s another door on my left that should lead to where Malak is, but it’s locked, too. Jesus, dude, really? Okay, keep moving forward. Another door. Left turn. One more door that should lead to Malak, but it is also locked. Why, dude? Why? All this effort to prove you’re not a coward, but you’re acting pretty cowardly. I keep moving forward to the next door. Through that and after another turn there’s one more door that should lead to Malak. If this one is locked, too, I swear to fucking God…

It opens. There he is. Bastard.

---

I can feel Malak’s stasis hold slowly wearing off. It starts small at first. I can move my foot, just a little. Then it fades even more, and I can curl my fingers. Then it fades completely, and I can let my muscles relax for a moment. But only a brief moment. Rena is still fighting Malak. I can sense it. But his is not the only anger I feel. Carth is clearly not having the best day, to put it mildly. And as much as he’s trying to focus solely on Malak and getting to the Ebon Hawk, his thoughts are obviously clouded by Rena. Anger at her, and me, at the Jedi Council, but also confusion. And mistrust. Perhaps even some depression. Clearly there is sadness there. But how deep it goes is unclear.

“Damn it, Rena!” he swears at her, “She’s going to get herself killed, fighting Malak alone.”

“You still care about her, then,” I say. I did not expect his feelings for her to go away so quickly, but I did expect them to be mixed.

“Care, hell, I don’t think we’ll be able to find the last Star Map without her,” he says. No, that’s not quite right. But no matter. We have more important things to worry about. “I saw her go right, but the door closed and I have no idea where she went from there.” I saw that, too. “Can you sense where they are?”

“I can try.” I reach out with the Force. She’s close. And despite Carth’s concern, for lack of a better word, she would seem to be doing very well on her own. She’s certainly thinking about her identity, but she’s doing her best to focus on Malak. This fight isn’t going to end today. I don’t know what’s going to happen, but this fight is not going to end today.

A choice needs to be made. One of us isn’t going to make it out of here. And Carth’s right, the others need Rena to find the last Star Map. Revan found it on Manaan once before, and even if she doesn’t know it, Rena has the memory. A sacrifice needs to be made. My sacrifice. “We need to hurry,” I say, and we run through the center door. I only hope we’re not too late.

---

Malak moves fast. Almost too fast. I let myself react on instinct rather than using any particular form or thinking about my responses. I just let my mind go blank. Muscle memory. Memory. Memory. Nope, don’t want to think about that. Focus on this.

I’m not going to win this fight.

Malak reaches out a hand and suddenly I can’t move. God. No. No this can’t happen. Carth, if anything happens, I just want you to know I love --

“This isn’t over, Malak!” Bastila? They’re unfrozen. I’m not going to die today. But something’s not…

“Your friends do not give up easily, Revan,” Malak says, “You always could inspire loyalty. But even the three of you together cannot stand against my power!”

“For the Jedi!” Bastila shouts, and she throws her lightsaber at him. Malak starts to move towards her. I still can’t move, not yet. Focus, Rena, focus! Undo it! Do something! “I’ll hold Malak off!” she says, “You two get out of here! Find the Star Forge!”

“No, Bastila, he’s too strong!” Carth says, but she doesn’t change. “No!” She reaches out a hand and closes the door behind Malak, sealing them in. And suddenly I can move again, I don’t know how, but I can move. I’ve got to help her, I’ve got to get in there! I head for the lock, there’s got to be something I can do! Come on. Come on! “The door’s sealed, we can’t get past!” Carth says, trying to stop me, “Come on, we have to get to the Ebon Hawk!”

“No, we can’t, I have to help her!” I have to help her!

“Bastila doesn’t stand a chance against Malak, but we can’t help her. Not here.”

“I can’t let another person die!” I shout. I can’t. How many deaths did Revan cause? How many did Revan kill? I can’t do that again, I won’t have her death on my ledger, too!

“We have to get off this ship and find the Star Forge,” he insists, “That’s the key to beating Malak!”

“No, the key to defeating him is right behind this fucking door - are you going to help me or not?”

“No, I’m not!” he says, “Look, Bastila sacrificed herself so we could get away, and I won’t let that sacrifice be in vain. If you won’t come with me, then I'll shoot you and carry you out, but I’d rather not do that. Don’t force my hand.”

I can’t leave her. But I can’t leave him. I can’t -- I don’t know! I - wait, what the fuck, put me down! “I’m not waiting for you to figure it out.” This is completely degrading.

Thankfully he puts me down when we get to the ship. “Get the hyperdrive up and running, they will have deactivated it on Saul’s orders. Let me know once it’s ready,” he says, “I don’t want to be here a minute longer than we have to be.” I nod and run for the hyperdrive engine. T3 whirs along behind me.

It’s something to focus on, at least. This wasn’t a single “flick a switch” deactivation, this was by the book. Power couplings disconnected, safety caps on the ends, this is going to take a bit. I pull my communicator out of my pocket and buzz Carth. “This is going to take a couple minutes, don’t do any fancy flying.” He acknowledges me but that’s it. I don’t have time to think about that right now. He gets us out of the hangar and the battle begins. Shield grid’s in good shape. Caps off the couplings, this may sting a bit. I don’t know as much about engines as I do about droids, but the caps seem to be the same, just scaled up. If a droid’s going to be powered down for a while or could get wet - like torrential downpour wet - you’re supposed to disconnect the power couplings and put rubber caps on the end, for safety. So no one gets electrocuted or so the power flow doesn’t get corrupted, because that’s a bear to fix. And if this were a droid, I’d want to start at the bottom coupling and work my way up. The process here should be the same, too - turn the power off or reroute it, pull the caps off, reconnect, reroute it back. So I start on the lowest of the four. Reroute, caps, reconne - Carth, I said no fancy flying! Stop with the loop de loops! Reconnect, reroute. Second. Try not to lose my lunch. As if I’ve eaten much today. Third. God, Mission, hit them before they hit us! Fourth. Come on, come on… Done! “Carth, punch it!”

Hyperspace. Finally. The worst is over.

Or… maybe it’s just getting started.

[btssunnyboy]

Partners In Crime - Jeon Jungkook Part 1

You had a vendetta, and this was your chance. You were gonna prove yourself, but now you got another person to worry about.

Word Count - 3,131

Warning - Undercover Agent! AU, profanity and mentions of drinking.

Masterlist

Also I’m back after a few months break I’m so sorry, but hopefully I’ll be back with a lot more updates!!!

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"I absolutely refuse! I'm more then qualified to handle this mission on my own."

The words slipped pasted your lips quicker then you intended. Venom laced through every word, as you stared stared at your higher up. His eyes threatened to roll back in his head ; agitation clearly visible through his stressed state. He released a heavy breath, while pinching the bridge of his nose. His hands form together into bone crushingly tight fist.

"L/n! Work with me! You need a partner for this assignment and he's the perfect coverup!" Mr. Jones ushered out as his eyes glanced cautiously at the clock. The small ticks that erupted from the small machine filling the tense silence that was floating in the air. His leg shook wildly in return in made the floorboards squeak underneath the shaky weight.

"I've been working Jackson Wang's case for over six months! His banquet is my shot to prove I'm worthy of my spot on this team!" You bellowed, comic stream bursting from your ears. Your face was red from embarrassment, disappointment and most importantly anger. Pure, boiling, hot anger seeping through every crevice of your body. This was chance to prove that you weren't a rookie anymore! This was a chance to live up to what you father used to be on this force.

"You've shown your worth more then enough times to be about of my department, but this is a mission that requires back up. It's too dangerous even for you." Mr. Jones sighed once more when he noticed your posture. Stick straight back, with clenched hands and jaw. You were passed the state of furious, and he knew hell was about to rain down. "Can I at least tell you his name."

"Of course it's a guy."

"His name is Jeon Jungkook. He's one of the top residents we have, and he's moving up through the ranks remarkably well." The sickly sweet comment rolled off of his tongue with such ease. It disgusted you down to your core. You didn't need a partner to handle Jackson Wang. You've dealt with his accomplices, and you sure as hell can take a guy like him on. "Now would you please stop making a big scene."

On one hand Mr. Jones had a point. Your reaction was starting to take the form of a five year old who just got told no to a brand new toy. You were overreacting, but with a good reason to back it up. This was your main chance ; you didn't want to be shadowed by some partner who would take all the credit. This was your shot, and you desperately needed it. Your worth in this department now rests on the hands of someone called Jeon Jungkook.

Before you mouth could open to add more snarky comment chief's door swung open. I'm walked a man who was almost your age, but maybe a bit older. His big doe eyes held so much innocence ; you almost pity the man who decided to work in a job like this. A job that requires you to be deceiving in every way, a job that tests your limits, and a job that puts your life in danger every time you walk out those doors. Being undercover has it's downfalls, and it may corrupt a sweet guy like him.

"This is your partner. Jeon Jungkook meet L/n Y/n."

"It's a pleasure to meet you! I've actually heard so much about you!" He beamed while staring softly at you. His hand was extended, and your whole body was hesitant to even shake his hand. He noticed the delay, and awkwardly pulled his hand away, and rubbed the nape of his neck. "It's gonna be an honor working with you."

You stayed silent through the entire exchange. The way his smile dropped ever so slightly, but the gleam never left his eyes. His stare was now directed towards the chief. Desperately trying to get the train moving along, and bolt as fast as he could out those glass doors. The chief gave a sudden scoff, before he started making his point clear.

"Jeon I'm sorry for this unprofessional like matter coming from one of our finest, but you two need to work together." The message was supposed to be loud and clear. Both of you were supposed to understand that this mission is going to take every once of willpower from the both of you. "This is his case file, learn it, live it, and then catch it."

Sharp nods left the both of you, as you reached for your file. Flipping through what felt like miles of charges against him. Things been drug charges, third degree battery, and many, many more. This just goes to prove that money will get your dumbass out of any situation. This man has ruined lives, and here he is still allowed to roam the streets without a care in the fucking world.

"Jesus Christ how can this guy live with himself?" Jungkook mumbled while pulling his chair out. His eyes scanned each charge, and loudly showed his disapproval. His scoff filled the small room, as if practically reverberated throughout. "What do you think about all of this?"

His question lingered in the air, as a response was settled onto your tongue. It was searing in your mouth, begging to have the cool air hit it and diminish the intensity of it. Instead you stayed silent. Letting your eyes linger on the file, even though you knew everything about this man. His motives, his relationship, his goddamn childhood. You knew it all, and a personal vendetta was pushing you towards getting this bastard in jail. Him and his stupid connections ruined your life, and you're never going to forget that.

"I know this isn't exactly your idea type of mission, but I'm just here to help." Jungkook softly said as he pulled his chair to the front of your desk. His famous doe eyes staring so softly into yours. They had a gleam that looked like a whole universe was settled underneath his cornea. His smile was still on his face, as if you silence wasn't affecting him at all. He didn't seem to care, as he continued on this conversation. "We still need to think of a plan to catch him."

He wasn't wrong. This whole mission still needed to be planned out step by step. And all you've got so far is the fact he's in town for the week, and once he leaves this area your team's jurisdiction will be useful no more. It has to be you, and your partner who take him down. The mere thought of him leaving made your hands clench in anger once more. Your knuckles going white from the harsh grip, and you could already fill your nails tearing the skin of your palms. His eyes glanced down at your hands, and he took it as his sign to leave.

"You don't have to go." Your voice was so soft he almost didn't hear it. This was a drastic change from your demeanor back in the chief's office. You tightly shut your eyes, and wished you'd just kept your mouth shut. He was just about to leave, and you could've been alone to make a plan layout. This could've be done all by yourself, but something made you want him. Something made it hard to see him go. "Like you said we need a plan."

"Y-yeah! A plan if were gonna catch him we need to make sure that he's caught in the act. I figured the only reason why he's never be truly admitted to jail is that he's never been see doing these things. Someone else always manages to take the fault." Jungkook stammered, as he pulled out his laptop. His eyes scanning every detail of the records he's looking at. Different people each lined up with charge that some how correspond with Jackson Wang's charges. They go down for him, and he just leaves them there. What a sicko.

You nodded your head in understanding. He would get charged and then everything would be dropped. Only for another man to take the place, and as they said coincidental at the time. This plan needs two brains working together, a different perspective is exactly what this mission needs. Yet you still can't bring yourself to accept that. It was stupid sitting here in a mood just because you have to have a partner

"We have less then a week to catch up so Jeon Jungkook. What's our first move." You sighed as you leaned back in your seat. A curt nod came from him as he typed away on his computer, original doe soft eyes were pressed in harsh glares. His min was set on finding an answer, and it looked like he was set on finding one fast.

"His banquet, like we've mentioned before is our only shot there's no other way. The only problem is that we need an invitation." Jungkook grumbled as he slammed his laptop shut. He knew this was a big opportunity, and now he can't do anything about it.

"I've got that covered, before Bailey's incident she's was assigned this case and already acquired two tickets. Now this is our last shot bring him back home. Do I make myself clear?"  The chief spoke loudly. Making sure this was getting through both of your heads.

"Crystal."

"You're both two of the youngest on this team, make this count. And be careful, Jackson Wang is many things, but he's not a fool. One slip up and this whole operation goes down."

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"So we have to look like a couple at this party." Jungkook sighed as he fixed the blazer that settled onto his broad shoulders. The sleek looking material complimented his body in an extraordinary way. He was actually looking the part of a wealthy business man, and that's exactly the cover up that was needed. "We still have a few days, maybe we should actually go on a date."

Your eyebrows shot up in a questionable look. Your head tilted to the side as well. The emerald dress in your hands suddenly worth a lot more attention then the dashing man in front of you. It felt stupid to get to know him considering after this mission you planned on never talking to him again. Hell you planned on staying quiet throughout the whole night at the banquet. Get in, get him and get the hell out. It wasn't supposed to be a bonding experience.

"Come on, I'm not that bad." He commented again, as he shrugged off the sleek material. He somehow looked even better without that jacket. His white button down shirt cling to his biceps, making him even more appealing. That same smile he always wore still graced his face. Almost like it was the only permanent expression he had. "I mean I'd like to get to know you considering we're gonna be on the same team after this."

You dreaded it when he spoke that sentence. You truly didn't mind him it's just, getting close to someone in this business has its consequences. Consequences that take every ounce of happiness in you, and rip it to shreds. You've gone through them enough to know just how terrible they actually are. You didn't want to experience that pain again, and Jungkook sure wasn't worth going through that guy wrenching pain once more. But you never know what could happen in the span of a week. Once more you stayed locked onto the target of the silky emerald dress in front of you.

"I just wanna make sure you're okay with being around me. If we have to look like a couple we're gonna have to be touching in some way to make it more believable. Maybe just tell me some lies, or say I love you. It's gonna be fake anyways."

The way he spoke so nonchalantly physically hurt your heart. It was so stupid to let those few words effect you in such a big way. You were gonna ditch him so you had no right to upset about this.

"Let's get take-out and go to my place tonight. This better be worth my night."

"Of course it's gonna be."

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It was a silent ride to your little apartment. The cars passing by providing only little bit of noise in the long car ride. You could tell he was itching to start a conversation based on the way his hand kept twitching. His eyes would shoot from the road back to your sleepy form. He just wanted to get to know you, and he's usually a talk active person. But he's scared he's gonna mess up things if he even speaks a word. He's worried that if he breathes the wrong way you're gonna complain even more. 

"Up here at the left." You said in a groggy tone, and rubbed the sleep from your eyes. A small yawn passing through once again. You honestly don't know if you're awake enough to even make it to your apartment door. But there is a hot takeout box in your lap, and it’s been a long day. Besides Lucy was definitely awake, and she’s always happy too see you. Well most of the time she is. Your keys wiggled in the lock as you tried to open the door. The sound of keys slapping against the concrete woke you up only slightly.

“Here let me do it.” He spoke softly as he took the keys from your weak grip. His hands softly guiding the takeout from yours. “If you want to reschedule it’s fine.”

“No it’s fine, when need this bonding experience anyways. Besides I think Lucy has already taken a liking to you.” You laughed lightly as the calico cat immediately rubbed her head against his jean clad legs. A soft purr erupting from her. The freaking cat loves him, but hisses at anyone else. “Well hello there.”

That little heifer has the audacity to love up on him, and completely ignore you. You’re the one who fills her green bowl, gives her half the food on your plate. And she goes to the stranger that smells like mint and chocolate.

“I swear she’s usually in a mood.” You commented, as you tossed your coat on the back of the couch. As Jungkook sat down she immediately made her nest on his lap. Like you said before, that little heifer. “Okay now lets start talking.”

“Okay, what’s your favorite tv show.” He softly said as he shoveled the noodles in his mouth. His eyes never leaving yours once more, as if he truly wanted to know. He’s actually taking this hang out session seriously.

“I’ve really been getting into body of proof recently, that was reason why I wanted to be a medical examiner at the start of my career.” You smiled at the memory. Your mom done everything in her power to put you on the right track. She was always worried you’d get chocked up dealing with dead bodies like that, but she was more worried you’d get caught in between a murderer and a victim. Like your new job was any better.

“Why didn’t you continue with that?” His question was innocent as all get outs. But it still hurt to even think about the reason why you dropped it from your worries all together.

“That a personal question for another time.” You sighed as you wiped the corners of your mouth. Your eyes staying down casted towards the hardwood floors. When you noticed how Lucy’s food bowl was empty you took that as your chance to leave. Slowly searching through your kitchen cabinets looking for favorite chicken meal.

“Oh, okay. I didn’t realize, that it was like that.”

“You couldn’t have know, it’s fine how about we move onto the next topic.”

He sucked in air through his teeth as he raked his mind for another topic. The air was tense, and that was the last thing he wanted. He cleared his throat, as he lightly stroked Lucy’s head. She dug her head further into his hand ; trying to appreciate the warmth that he was giving her.

“Look I’m sorry I keep making everything so difficult. I’m not trying too it’s just in this job I’m scared to open up. It’s gotten me in some trouble, and that almost took me out.” You confessed as you popped open the cat food. Hearing her small paws tapping against the hardwood floors once more. You wiped your hands off on your jeans, and turned to face him fully. His head was tilted in the way yours does, and his eyes held that curious gleam once more.

“I understand that to an extent, but we’re just talking right now nothing bad is gonna happen.” He smiled as he pushed himself up off the couch. Leaning down with a huff he sat beside of you and watched at Lucy lapped up the food that was left in her plate. As soon as she was done she moved towards the man behind her. She happily rubbed her small head underneath his chin.

“Lucy seems pretty content with you, maybe that’s a good sign.” You half smiled as you twirled her soft tail around you index finger. Successfully gaining her attention, as your little baby licked at the tips of your fingers. “How about we put in a random movie, and go from there.”

He smiled widely as he rushed towards the small component underneath the tv. His eyes gleaming happily as he traced the spine of each dvd. Before his eyes settled onto the marvel section. His hands grasped the dozens of DVD’s and sprawled the across the floor. Ranging from Captain American to the one and only Endgame. A small chuckled passed through his lips as he held up one of the Iron Man disc.

“We can bond over one of my favorite movies.”

“I’ll get drinks.” You smiled as you raced towards your cabinets once. Pulling out the wine from the back corner. The beautiful blue bottle shinning underneath the soft lights of your kitchen. Pulling out two wine glasses you jumped onto the couch beside of him.

“I’m ready whenever you are.” He tipped his glass towards you with a suggestive smile. His eyes lingering towards the alcohol in your hands.

“Okay then let’s play the infamous twenty-one questions.” You spoke as you poured the wine and let it flow into the glasses. Watching as the foam started to settle. Taking a sip, and letting the cool liquid soothe you throat. “What made you want to go undercover.”

“Let’s get ready for a story.”

[jkatnayc]

Yet another Lion King Rant

Yes another, if I don't I will drown in my own bile.

Is easy to get distracted by the fact that is already happening, but a The Lion King "live action" remake I one is the stupidest ideas I've ever heard.

And I know it's not Live action, it's CGI, you don't have to correct me on that one, but I said Live action because that's that concept they were chasing.

It doesn't even sound like a real movie, it sounds like something out of a South Park episode or something, like when Cartman in a robot costume pitched a bunch of dumb movies with Adam Sandler, he could aswell said, the Lion King, but with real lions, and I would've laughed.

I mean, at least with the princess movies and such there's a real person with the costume, I think I kind of get the appeal, I still think stupid, but I get it, it's like when people got to the Disney parks to see people disguised as the characters.

But they went and did it, a Lion King "live action" remake, it is here and it looks as stupid as I thought it would. Maybe even more. they put zillions of dollars on this godamned thing, and somehow it's still looks like the Babe movies but with better lip sync.

This movie feels more like an animation demo reel than a real movie.

A funny thing is that here in México (I don't know if elsewhere) Danone made some packages with the characters in the movie in them, and they used the designs of the original movie because of course they did, otherwise they're just bags with lions on them, you would need to get super close to the bag or bottle to be able to see the logo in order to get why there is a lion in your yogurt.

And that's the thing, the remake has no personality, at least visually. This movie is offering nothing, narratively is the same, you know the story, you know the characters you know the songs, its all the same. And visually (witch I think is the most important aspect given that, that’s where the “realism” part comes in) it isn’t anything new either, because you have seen lions before. Everyone has seen an african wildlife documentary, even by accident, at least once on they’re live. this movie by concept alone is at it’s best mediocre.

The 1994 character designs are easily recognisable and relatable, you just see them And you know what theyre all about. The 2019 counterparts on the other hand..., have you seen thos posters? Those posters look more like a prank. A lion static, and expressionless looking at the camera, with a celebritye name over it’s head, it’s not even doing a goddamned thing, not even posing, is he funny, is he stoic I don’t know, the only clue I have to undestand this guy is the name. Disney wants me to transfer all my previous knowledge and experiences with this character to this empty vessel of a design, and suddenly it works, these posters are amazing!, oh that’s Mufasa of course!, it totally looks like Mufasa, because Mufasa was a lion, and this is a lion and it says Mufasa right there! 

Quoting Life of Pi; “When you look into his eyes, you are seeing your own emotions reflected back at you.” 

  With these posters Disney apparently wants to test it’s limits and see how dumb we are, and unfortunately, it apears that’s a lot. Disney just took the word “rehash” to a whole new level.

Those posters kind of feel like disney parodying themselfs and it’s live action remake trend, even down to the all celebrity cast part.

I dont even get why people would want to pay movie theater tickets to see this thing, it sound like a really tedious experience for me, it’s the same movie, there are no surprises, the only “interesting” thing would be to see what little things they do diferently, I would’t pay money to do that.

But this thing will make millions just on those people eager to “scratch the old nostalgia itch” alone, and of course on them taking their poor kids to see it. And that's really sad. This dumb remakes won't stop soon apparently...

[dcuglybooks]

A short story collection featuring stories that are either mean and ugly like that turd that thudded you in school, or sweet and cuddly as a little gloomy kitten; or puppy if you’re more of a dog person.

Stories Christians don't have to read backwards. https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08LGB4HGN/ref=cm_sw_r_cp_api_glc_fabc_UIpaGb2VC4BBX

Here’s a free short.

WAP: WEIRD ASS PHANTOM

“There’s a ghost in this house. There’s a ghost in this house.”

Linda was getting tired of the shit. Every day at exactly noon her alarm would play this shitty overdubbed version of a Cardi B song. The original song wasn’t her cup of tea to begin with, this new version that sounded like drunk karaoke was even worse. Most times she would be sitting there and the sound of a drunk sorority girl would make her jump out of her skin. She couldn’t even find the song or alarm in her phone to do anything about it.

Linda and her girlfriend, Melissa, moved into this old house last month, the rent was so damn cheap; landlord said it was because it used to be a party house so he never charged much. The logic didn’t make any sense but at $300 a month and a mile outside of town, how were they not going to sign that lease?

“I think,” spoke Melissa one night while watching her phone float around taking pictures in the air, “the reason rent is so cheap is because it’s haunted.”

“You think?” Replies Linda while snatching the phone out of the air. “I just wish this damn ghost would stop posting pictures of our bedroom to our Instagram accounts. Did you see the caption last night?”

“Oh you mean ‘Pumpkin spice is almost here. Basic bitches, rejoice!’ The comma is what set me off. Why did she put a comma in that? Why bother? It wasn’t even used correctly I don’t believe.”

“We’re being haunted by a basic bitch.”

“I think that may be offensive.”

“I hear it all the time, it just...... yeah ok maybe. I guess I shouldn’t assume this ghost is a bad stereotype, I won’t say it again.”

“True, this girl may have more going for her than just these annoying social media posts from our accounts”

“Remember the mirror though?”

Last week as the couple were eating dinner they heard a clatter and crash from the upstairs bathroom. Running full speed ahead up the stairs and around the corner Linda saw all their makeup in a pile in the empty sink. She could see a pair of red lipsticked lips floating in the air while eyeliner was seemingly drawn onto the air in a cat eye shape. She sighed and said “What now?” These types of things had been going on since the first night so at this point it was old hat.

The lipstick went to the mirror and wrote “I am finally going to kill you.” Linda took a step back prepared to flee until the lipstick wrote below it “JK LOL YOUR FACE” and then the face floated off into the wall leaving behind the makeup like some sort of painting.

The first time anything strange had happened, a pizza showed up at the front door; delivery for an Amanda Perkins. The girl who moved out recently, they took the pizza because it was already paid for and assumed the girl had made a mistake. They were sure of this as they sat and watched old re-runs of home improvement and munched away; then they noticed the slice floating over in the air above the recliner and the chewed up pile on the seat. They screamed and ran outside, Melissa forgot her phone inside and Linda’s made a ding from inside her pocket.

“Hey I know this is really weird, it’s weird AF for me too. We can make it work though, ladies. I swear I won’t bother you, I already cleaned up my mess.”

They inched inside looking around like scared toddlers and sure enough the mess was cleaned up. After that they just rolled with the weirdness.

“Are you sure Amanda left, Mr. Morris?” Linda was on the phone with the landlord.

“Yes. Positive. Why would you think she still lived there?”

“There’s been..... some things.”

“Drunk college girl, she probably stumbled home one night and forgot she went home for the summer. Its no deal. Not big or small.”

“Are you absolutely positive there is no deal? Big, small, medium, or slightly larger than medium but not quite large?”

“What do you think? I know her ex and he killed her and then buried her body in the basement so now her ghost is haunting you. This is why I charge so cheap rent! No. I don’t believe what you think. I will be going.”

He hung up without ever realizing Linda never once mentioned any of that other stuff. Linda thought, Why does he talk like that?

Turned out that’s exactly what had happened. After doing a quick google of the ghosts name they found out she never came home. After a quick Facebook search they found her ex boyfriends page. After some scrolling they found a post that said “Amanda and I broke up again and I am going to kill her.” The post had six likes and four comments.

“Get her bro!”

“Bitch ain’t appreciate you anyhow bet!”

“U need any ting lemme no”

“Fuk gr8 ass tho. Mind if I hit her up?”

These people were insane. Did not a single one of these people see the part about wanting to kill her? Actually PLANNING to kill her.

The police found it interesting enough to look into it, they found reason to arrest the guy. After a long court trial Amanda’s ex-boyfriend, Brent, was sentenced to life in prison for murder. The body was exhumed and buried at a family plot. The rent got more expensive because Mr. Morris was in prison for helping cover a murder so his aunt took over.

You win some you lose some.

Amanda did not leave though. The ghost hung out still to this day four months later. The social media posts kept going. The pizzas kept getting ordered, only now from their pockets because Amanda’s parents closed her bank account. Amanda was irritated about that, she was cut off from her parents money and stuck living with two other people.

Linda and Melissa tried to make her feel as comfy as possible, they left a pen and notebook in each room so she could communicate with them. Usually the notes were always about how bored she was being a ghost and how if she tried to leave the house it got all bright and she started floating. Amanda was “for real afraid of flying” as she wrote on a notebook.

Amanda’s behavior got strange at some point. She began doing things like drawing stick figures on the bathroom floor in shampoo, she would wrap herself in toilet paper and roll down the stairs creating the illusion of her body disappearing, the worst of it was when she would lay in bed with Linda and Melissa startling them when she pulled the blanket. It was like living with an invisible insane person. Either her mind was slipping or she was just a strange character. She would turn the TV on and watch the same episode of “King of Queens” for ten hours straight while they were at work. They wondered what would happen if they deleted it from the DVR but didn’t want to face that at all.

The alarm kept going off too; Linda had to hand out awkward smiles and apologies when it happened at work or in public. One time she had to apologize to a middle aged woman when it went off in the cereal aisle while shopping and her son started singing the lyrics to the original version as loud as his voice would allow. The mother gasped at all the words her kid knew and knocked a shelf of maple syrup over. The bottles burst all over the floor, Linda tried to help clean it up but she was shooed away by a guy with a mop bucket and a face that said he wanted her dead as shit.

They asked her multiple times what they could do to get her to move along, to which she would always write “sno-cone” on her notebook with no explanation.

Linda woke up sick on a Tuesday and didn’t go to work, she came into the bathroom and seen a note written in lipstick on the mirror that read “Baby, all my life I will be driving home to you.” She blushed, Melissa had left her a really sweet note on the mirror. When Melissa got home she surprised her with a bout of some of the best sex they had ever had, despite Linda being sick she felt overcome with love for her partner.

“Wow. What did I do to deserve that?” Asked Melissa after.

“The note.”

“Oh yes. The note, got you good with that one. So, if it was so good mind telling me what it said?”

“You know what it said!”

“Of course I do.”

She didn’t know what it said. She had no clue, but she wasn’t going to raise a stink about what just happened. No way, no how. She got up and went to use the restroom, as she sat on the toilet she looked up and saw the words on the mirror.

“LINDA!” She yelled. “I DIDNT LEAVE THAT! THATS THE GODDAMN LYRICS FROM THE THEME SONG FOR ‘THE KING OF QUEENS!’”

Linda didn’t know what to say; she shook her head and internally accepted defeat on this one. The couple didn’t talk about it again, the ends justified the means on this one they silently agreed; thanks Amanda.

The trio had carried on life like this for months, seven to be exact, when they heard a bang and a crash from the front door. Assuming this was yet again Amanda doing some goofy nonsense they ran downstairs to clean up the mess only to find a man standing their pointing a shotgun at them.

“You’re the dykes who got me locked up, aintcha?” Said a freshly broke out of prison Brent. “You know, usually I’m cool with like loving whoever and like rights and like equality and shit but tonight is not your night. Go sit.”

They were tied together on the couch while Brent sat channel flipping on the TV.

“Amanda is still here,” spoke Linda “she’s a ghost, at some point she’s going to help us and you’ll probably get hurt. She’s probably posting pictures on Instagram right now so she’s a little busy, but I promise when she finds out she’ll come running.”

“No she won’t.”

“Ok? So you think her post is going to get a ton of likes then?”

“She’s afraid of me.”

“Ugh are you generic ‘I beat my girlfriend’ guy number seventy or not?”

“Not.”

“Then why is she afraid of you?”

“I’m bigger than her…… I guess?”

“She’s a ghost.”

“I’m still bigger.”

​“How can you be bigger than an incorporeal being with no mass or weight?”

​“See, she doesn’t way anything.”

“You didn’t think any of this through did you?”

“Not one bit.”

“It shows. Why did you kill her?”

“Hey I’ve never been what you’d call a planner. I killed her because she broke up with me for the fiftieth time that year and all my friends were giving me a hard time about how I would just crawl back to her. I said ‘can’t crawl back to her if I kill her!’ They all thought it was funny so I did it.”

“Ah………Makes perfect sense to me.”

“A guy has to watch his reputation, right?”

They sat there watching late night infomercials in silence for another half hour. Linda nudged Melissa as she seen a phone floating around taking pictures of a floating can of soup.

Of all the ghosts in the world, why was theirs like this?

“Brent, there’s some stuff on the DVR” Linda told him.

“Good I hate infomercials. Oh yuck, ‘The King of Queens.’ I hate that show, Amanda loved it. That fat fucking heifer guy gets to make it with that babe every night. Fucking loser ass UPS guy”

They could see the phone slowly lower and start hovering towards Brent. They let him rant.

“And that Deacon guy, what a fucking idiot, he leaves his wife at one point which is silly because she’s so fucking hot.”

The can of soup hovered behind him.

“That guy that dates the ugly chick from the bowling alley, now I can’t tolerate him at all.”

The soup can shook with rage.

“He ends up living with the other guy right? Like what the fuck? Are they like a thing or not a thing? I didn’t pay enough attention. I did pretend to though to get some action every now and again, show fucking sucks though. Here I’ll do you guys a favor.”

As he deleted the episode from the DVR the can came slamming down into his head.

Again.

Again.

Again.

Again.

Again.

They heard a voice yell “MY BONES ARE GETTING WEARY! MY BACK IS GETTING TIGHT!” As the can of cream of chicken turned Brent’s head into cream of Brent’s brains.

After the violence stopped the notebook hovered in front of them and said “Sorry, I was on TikTok, I’ll clean this up tho.”

Much like the first night that’s exactly what happened. They were untied and they watched as the mess was cleaned up. Brent’s body floated over to the ground and the can of soup was laid on the table. The phone floated over to Melissa who dialed 911.

After the legal mess was cleaned up they decided that having Amanda around maybe was not such a bad idea. No one could really kill them, it was like having a built in security system. They did eventually add a third line to their cell plan and let her set up social media for herself as a reclusive twenty something who couldn’t leave the house due to a skin condition.

Her pages were ok, they didn’t get much interaction or followers but Amanda was happy. Sometimes people would say they wanted to hang out with her because they lived close, Amanda just said her skin condition was contagious AF. No one ever thought to say “Hey, what exactly IS your medical condition?” People could be so polite sometimes.

Christmas morning as they all opened gifts Linda and Melissa cried as Amanda opened the complete series collection of “The King of Queens.” The three sat on the couch together that evening and watched all of season one.

Baby all my life I will be driving home to you.

The next day they heard a familiar song. Together they both smiled and thought that yes, there was a ghost in this house.

[valkyrie-echo]

Project Echo, Part 1: Chapter 18 (Reviving Bucky Barnes)

Part 1 Summary: A long-buried Hydra disaster, a monster in the shadows, a missing child. Eight months after the events of “The Winter Soldier”, Bucky turns himself in to the Avengers on one condition: They must help him find a girl snatched off the streets by Hydra seven years ago. In their quest, the Avengers accidentally unleash a horrifying creature of darkness and shadow, intent on making their quarry its prey.

Chapter 18: Reviving Bucky Barnes

A week passed without any sightings of the creature, and everyone was thankful for the break. Bucky started meeting with Sam regularly to talk through things and, when he still couldn't sleep for fear of the memories, Thor or Steve would go to the gym with him and practice fighting. Tony tried convincing everyone that a three-on-one fight with the Hulk would be a good idea, but no one saw how that came close to 'fun'.

Natasha and Clint weren't seen around the commons area too often- they continued to get no response from the girl. Whenever Nat entered the lobby, Bucky would excuse himself. He could tell she wasn't a fan of his- especially since JARVIS' full med scan on the girl painted a vivid picture of his handiwork. She didn't have to say anything- Bucky could see her rage in how she moved, and he made it his mission in life to avoid her. Doctor Johansson returned with a small team to begin putting the nameless child back together again and check the recovery of his other patient. He could barely make eye contact with Bucky after examining her.

One rainy afternoon, as Bucky worked on rebuilding a car engine from the 1970s, Clint came in, "How's it going?"

"New engines are more difficult to figure out than I thought. I swear there's a piece missing," Bucky was making an effort to be as amiable as he could around the team- especially Tony. Stark had cleaned out a section of his robotics lab and given Bucky access to his old junk car collection to rebuild on his own. It was Tony's original hobby- before the Iron Man obsession began, and he was happily passing it to the Winter Soldier now.

Clint looked slightly uncomfortable, "Listen, I'm sorry about all this with Nessa, I still don't think there's any reason-"

"Nessa?"

"Inessa," Clint nodded, "Nat couldn't get a name from her so we made one. It means-"

"Pure," Bucky smiled, "it's a good name for her."

Clint gestured to the door, "Can I show you something really quick? I've been having trouble with something, you might be able to help."

"Sure," Bucky pulled off his grease-stained apron and gloves, then followed Clint out to the lounge. He froze as soon as he saw where Clint was leading him.

"See," Clint snickered, "we have an overabundance of cake and gifts, and we need someone to take it off our hands."

"Surprise!" Everyone was wearing party hats and streamers were draped from the lights. All the Avengers (and their friends) were present, including Pepper (allowed back into the building that very day by Tony), Jane Foster (who Bucky only knew from a picture Thor carried around), Mariah Hill and Rhody. Bucky was overwhelmed. He hadn't even known it was his birthday. A giant "98" hung from the rafters and he silently vowed not to tell them that he hadn't even known the year before just then.

Steve came over and clapped him on the back, laughing. He pulled out a large piece of metal with a bow on it and handed it to him, "Couldn't have you finishing too early," the goddamned missing piece!

"You little-" Bucky put him in a headlock with his metal arm, "still no respect for your elders, huh?"

"Uncle, uncle!" Bucky let him go and was quickly swept up in the sea of people. He had to admit that just this once being the center of attention (for a good reason!) felt great, and he couldn't stop smiling.

"You cleaned up well," Pepper came over, smiling, and held out a hand to him. This time Bucky shook it. "Tony speaks very highly of you."

"Woah Pepp," Tony came over, "I have an image to keep up."

"Well then, Bucky, this is just from me," Pepper held up a gift bag.

Tony raised his hand, "My idea!"

Pepper rolled her eyes and prompted Bucky to open the gift. He was curious. He reached in and pulled out a silver frame. Once he realized what it was, his mouth fell open and tears filled his eyes, "Where did you find this?" he managed a whisper.

"The historical society. Steve gave me some background so I could start looking."

The frame held a photograph of his parents on their wedding day. It had been digitally cleaned-up and printed on much nicer paper, but it looked exactly like the one his mother had kept on the mantle in their apartment. He touched the picture. His family. It had been decades since they died, but how he had a piece of his past. He wiped his eyes, "Thank you."

"Happy Birthday," she gave him a hug.

"Are we doing gifts already?" Clint came over with Natasha.

She nodded her greeting, then held out a flat, wrapped package, "An olive branch."

He unwrapped the parcel and looked at it- a tablet? He'd seen the others with similar contraptions, but like Steve he mostly avoided them. Natasha hit a button on the side and video filled the screen- a live feed of Inessa, sitting in the living room of Natasha and Clint's apartment under the guard of two suits, "I turn on cartoons. No sign she's even seeing them, but maybe one day she will."

"Thank you," Bucky had been dying to know how she was doing, it drove him crazy sometimes, this was as precious a gift as Pepper's, "How is she? Have you managed to get anything from her?"

Natasha shook her head, "It would be easier if they'd tried to alter her, like what they did to you. Re-directing someone can be undone with time but you-" she corrected herself quickly, "they, they took her to a blank slate. It can take weeks or even months to make progress from there. We just have to hope whoever grows in her place resembles whoever she was."

Bucky nodded, "And no luck identifying her?"

Clint shrugged, "We can't even figure out which country to start looking in. You said she spoke English, but JARVIS' scans say she's got the nutrient and calcium levels of someone from the second or third world. She could be a missionary's kid. No one ever reported her missing- either she'll have to tell us who she is or Hydra will."

"Let me know if there's anything I can do towards that end," Bucky had tried to convince Steve and the others to let him go on a mission to Auckland after Dennisson, but instead they'd installed an electromagnet on any door or window that could open to the outside. Bucky couldn't survive a fight with Hydra without his arm, and couldn't leave the building with it. He'd finally surrendered and agreed to stay (though the magnets remained just in case).

"Can I talk to you- alone?" Natasha lightly grabbed his arm and steered Bucky away from the others towards a quiet corner. "Listen," she sighed, "I just want you to know that I'm not mad at you. You don't have to keep avoiding me, really."

Bucky shifted uncomfortably, "I know what I did, you don't have to pretend it doesn't make your skin crawl-"

"It does," Natasha admitted, "but the only difference between what's in your past and what's in mine is that I chose to kill, maim, torture- whatever was needed. The KGB ripped my soul right out of me, but I could have left before Clint found me, and I knew it. I'm paying for all that now, just like you are and will continue to do in the future. I don't blame you- I blame the people who used you... I'd like for us to be friends, if you're alright with that."

"I am," Bucky nodded.

Natasha smiled, "Now, go- get back to your party. I'm told Tony will actually attempt to light every candle on that damn cake, and it's always fun to see DUM-E roll into a room with the fire extinguisher.

Chapter 19: Thomas Dennisson

[temporarilyinorder]

1-150 💕💕💕

1. Who was the last person you held hands with? - @ununhexium
2. Are you outgoing or shy? - I think I’m a fair mix of the two behind closed doors
3. Who are you looking forward to seeing? - Ed Sheeran in concert ha
4. Are you easy to get along with? - Very
5. If you were drunk would the person you like take care of you? - I like to think so yes
6. What kind of people are you attracted to? - Punk/Rock princesses, the kind that look super badass and listen to my kind of music but still wanna cuddle at the end of the day
7. Do you think you’ll be in a relationship two months from now? - ah yes
8. Who from the opposite gender is on your mind? - my friend Bridget because she won’t answer my goddamned texts and we need to work on our leadership auditions for color guard
9. Does talking about sex make you uncomfortable? - not in the slightest
10. Who was the last person you had a deep conversation with? - @sleepandbestupid
11. What does the most recent text that you sent say? - “what did it say"
12. What are your 5 favorite songs right now? - Ultralife by Oh Wonder, Lifetimes by Oh Wonder, Something Just Like This by The Chainsmokers, Take a Walk by Passion Pit, Synesthesia by Andrew MacMahon & The Wilderness
13. Do you like it when people play with your hair? - love it
14. Do you believe in luck and miracles? - yeah why not
15. What good thing happened this summer? - idk I fell in love I guess
16. Would you kiss the last person you kissed again? - yeah 😂
17. Do you think there is life on other planets? - there’s gotta be
18. Do you still talk to your first crush? - occasionally to catch up
19. Do you like bubble baths? - nope
20. Do you like your neighbors? - yeah
21. What are you bad habits? - i never know my limits lol
22. Where would you like to travel? - everywhere
23. Do you have trust issues? - not really
24. Favorite part of your daily routine? - going to bed
25. What part of your body are you most uncomfortable with? - faceeee
26. What do you do when you wake up? - open my eyes
27. Do you wish your skin was lighter or darker? - it’s fine where it is haha
28. Who are you most comfortable around? - @ununhexium @sleepandbestupid @itsamtyler @yueriverta
29. Have any of your ex’s told you they regret breaking up? - oh yeah
30. Do you ever want to get married? - yesss
31. If your hair long enough for a pony tail? - maybe on top
32. Which celebrities would you have a threesome with? - Kristen Stewart and Emma Watson hands down
33. Spell your name with your chin. - grsbfob
34. Do you play sports? What sports? - not really
35. Would you rather live without TV or music? - TV
36. Have you ever liked someone and never told them? - who hasn’t?
37. What do you say during awkward silences? - I don't
38. Describe your dream girl/guy? - I’m too lazy I’m already dating her
39. What are your favorite stores to shop in? - Zumiez, Hot Topic, American Eagle
40. What do you want to do after high school? - travel the country
41. Do you believe everyone deserves a second chance? - depends
42. If your being extremely quiet what does it mean? - *you’re and it just means I’m thinking really
43. Do you smile at strangers? - yeah!
44. Trip to outer space or bottom of the ocean? - space
45. What makes you get out of bed in the morning? - my goddamned mother
46. What are you paranoid about? - getting caught
47. Have you ever been high? - meh
48. Have you ever been drunk? - it didn’t work
49. Have you done anything recently that you hope nobody finds out about? - sure
50. What was the colour of the last hoodie you wore? - gray
51. Ever wished you were someone else? - once or twice sure
52. One thing you wish you could change about yourself? - my sex, I guess.. but like I’d never wanna be cis
53. Favourite makeup brand? - nope
54. Favourite store? - Hot Topic or Zumiez
55. Favourite blog? - idk
56. Favourite colour? - red blue or neon green
57. Favourite food? - Bacon ranch cheesesteak from Jersey Mikes58. Last thing you ate? - a mozzarella stick
59. First thing you ate this morning? - I haven’t yet ha
60. Ever won a competition? For what? - yeah! Idk plenty
61. Been suspended/expelled? For what? - nope
62. Been arrested? For what? - nope
63. Ever been in love? - a handful times yeah
64. Tell us the story of your first kiss? - I was on a cruise when I was thirteen and thought this girl was sO cute and by the end of the trip she felt bad and kissed me lol
65. Are you hungry right now? - very
66. Do you like your tumblr friends more than your real friends? - nope
67. Facebook or Twitter? - Facebook 
68. Twitter or Tumblr? - Tumblr
69. Are you watching tv right now? - nope
70. Names of your bestfriends? - @fiorexfairy
@sleepandbestupid 71. Craving something? What? - my favorite food lol
72. What colour are your towels? -varied
72. How many pillows do you sleep with? - one
73. Do you sleep with stuffed animals? - yeah! A little stuffed eevee named chestnut
74. How many stuffed animals do you think you have? - too many
75. Favourite animal? - Hedgehogs!
76. What colour is your underwear? - black
77. Chocolate or Vanilla? - vanilla
78. Favourite ice cream flavour? - cotton candy
79. What colour shirt are you wearing? - neon green
80. What colour pants? - navy blue lol please note I just woke yp
81. Favourite tv show? - Black Mirror
82. Favourite movie? - American Ultra or Zombieland or The Perks of Being a Wallflower
83. Mean Girls or Mean Girls 2? - the original boiiii
84. Mean Girls or 21 Jump Street? - 21 Jump Street
85. Favourite character from Mean Girls? - dunno 
86. Favourite character from Finding Nemo? - Nemo idk
87. First person you talked to today? - @ununhexium
88. Last person you talked to today? - it is noon
89. Name a person you hate? - lol
90. Name a person you love? - mi friends
91. Is there anyone you want to punch in the face right now? - nah
92. In a fight with someone? - nope
93. How many sweatpants do you have? - one
94. How many sweaters/hoodies do you have? - like ten
95. Last movie you watched? - I don’t remember
96. Favourite actress? - Emma Watson
97. Favourite actor? - Logan Lerman
98. Do you tan a lot? - only at band camp ha
99. Have any pets? - 4 dogs 4 cats
100. How are you feeling? - hopeful
101. Do you type fast? - very
102. Do you regret anything from your past? - nah
103. Can you spell well? - quite
104. Do you miss anyone from your past? - not really
105. Ever been to a bonfire party? - yeah!
106. Ever broken someone’s heart? - I don’t think so but idk
107. Have you ever been on a horse? - yup!
108. What should you be doing? - writing my color guard routine
109. Is something irritating you right now? - nah
110. Have you ever liked someone so much it hurt? - oh yeah
111. Do you have trust issues? - you asked this already
112. Who was the last person you cried in front of? - @ununhexium
113. What was your childhood nickname? - T
114. Have you ever been out of your province/state? - yeah
115. Do you play the Wii? - no lol
116. Are you listening to music right now? - does the Disney parades soundtrack count
117. Do you like chicken noodle soup? - yeS
118. Do you like Chinese food? - Y E S
119. Favourite book? - On The Road
120. Are you afraid of the dark? - lowkey very
121. Are you mean? - a little
122. Is cheating ever okay? - idk
123. Can you keep white shoes clean? - barely
124. Do you believe in love at first sight? - I guess
125. Do you believe in true love? - yes
126. Are you currently bored? - a little
127. What makes you happy? - people being happy
128. Would you change your name? - yeah ha
129. What your zodiac sign? - Libra
130. Do you like subway? - nope
131. Your bestfriend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do? - say it sucks to be them lol
132. Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with? - repeat question again get ur shit together
133. Favourite lyrics right now? - uhh
134. Can you count to one million? - nope
135. Dumbest lie you ever told? - I’m almost home
136. Do you sleep with your doors open or closed? - closed
137. How tall are you? - 5'6"
138. Curly or Straight hair? - I have straight hair, if that’s what you’re asking
139. Brunette or Blonde? - blonde
140. Summer or Winter? - summer
141. Night or Day? - day
142. Favourite month? - July
143. Are you a vegetarian? - nooo
144. Dark, milk or white chocolate? - white
145. Tea or Coffee? - coffee
146. Was today a good day? - it’s only noon
147. Mars or Snickers? - Twix
148. What’s your favourite quote? - this too shall pass
149. Do you believe in ghosts? - wholeheartedly 
150. Get the closest book next to you, open it to page 42, what’s the first line on that page? - "I go with him.”