#some of which closely resemble rough drafts-

[ghosts-and-blue-sweaters]

*peeks out from under blankets* Hi.

So *claps hands together* school has been crazy as heck, and has kept me pretty busy lately. I’m not too sure how active I’ll be in the near future, and I probably won’t be checking my dashboard as much. If there’s a post any of y’all want me to see, tagging me/sending me the link to it would be great, because there’s a chance I just… won’t see it otherwise XD

With whumptober just around the corner, I’m pleased to announce that I WILL ACTUALLY BE POSTING STORIES THROUGHOUT THE EVENT!!! Some stories, at least. I didn’t end up writing too many, much to my annoyance.

But yes, I’m back and ready to cause Chaos >:)

[rilakeila]

his reflection,

word count 1.5k fandom spiderverse pairing fatherly!miguel o'hara x spiderteen!fem!reader warnings biting, fighting author's note kinda written in miguel's pov

draft. a version where your dna is genetically spliced with a spider, constantly having to inject yourself to upkeep your abilities. found a hobby jumping universe to universe, killing anomalies by contract or even for one. until one night, you meet someone that looks too close to someone you thought you killed.

another universe. another one off the list as one of the spider-men report that there was no existence of a family of his own. an idea that was foreign to him until he discovered his counterpart’s life. now, he only longs to have that happiness. throbbing migraines plaguedmiguel as he rewatched videos of his counterpart’s family. watching both of his daughters play soccer, one lingered on his eldest who was teaching her little sister which is when a pounding headache struck him. 

the noise of the sliding doors of his domain immediately made him turn off his screens while holding his forehead. 

“you ought to turn some lights on in here, miguel,” jessica’s voice broke the silence.

he grumbled, “i already told you that the light gives me migraines. the screens are enough light. what are you doing here, anyways?”

“lyla didn’t tell you?” she questioned.

the bright light glitches around the two before settling on miguel’s shoulder, “i tried, but the big bear looked like he was gonna cry again. so, i let him be. there’s another anomaly on the loose, looks like there’s already a spider-man out there. but, i can’t seem to recognize the watch’s serial numbers.”

“it’s fine, you said that some of the watches are defective,” miguel snagged a watch off his desk, tossing it to jessica who swiftly pocketed it. “you’ll be back-up. lyla, open the coordinates of the anomaly.”

“what’s the magic word?” she teased, causing him to groan. the headache was not helping him, worsening as she kept talking.

wanting the teasing to end, he immediately mumbled out, “please, lyla.”

“of course.” she complied, opening a portal miguel’s mask integrated with the suit’s technology, with each step he took, the headache pounded ins his temple. a dragging weight felt resting on his shoulders. lyla appeared once again, “you okay there, big guy? there doesn’t seem to be any negative indicators with your health.”

“i’m fine, just give me a second,” he closed his eyes, taking a breath before fully entering the new universe. as soon as he crossed over, the anomaly’s coordinates appeared on his holographic display. the familiar sound of web-slinging and a sudden crash against a building alerted him. quickly moving towards the scene, he finds that the anomaly had been a different version of the green goblin. the hero swung around the street, rough but smooth movements, similar to his own style.

“wow. she moves like you,” lyla commented, observing the fight unfold, “should we help her?”

before miguel could respond, he noticed the silhouette sinking its fangs into the defeated villain’s neck. that’s my thing. a piercing scream erupted, he watched the body go limp, “she can’t kill him here.”

miguel landed behind the anonymous spider-man. the mask covered their face once more in a similar fashion as his suit’s technology does. some copycat wannabe. the unknown figure immediately shot a web at him, but he was able to dodge, “i need you to step away from him. now.”

“and who are you supposed to be?” they  dropped the barely conscious figure and turned to face miguel. chuckling, “a fan, i suppose. wasn’t aware that that this universe knew about me.”

a female voice. she pointed the resemblance between the suits, she opted for black suit with darker shades of red, emulating the shadows of the night. the difference lay in the eyes, hers opting for a similar style of gwen’s, being able to see the expressions much more.  

miguel was much more preoccupied by the similarities that they had shared, even to the way they had mirrored each other in their similar stances. hands on the waist before both dropped their arms, slightly tilted in their standing now. trying to take a step closer, a significant pain in his head same from earlier, a ringing in his ear, a voice trying to enter his mind. the pain worse, enough for him to be brought to his knees, holding his head.

“okay, big guy. you’re odd, so i’m just gonna go,” the rustling and sounds of webs wrapping the body with incoherent groaning from the green goblin, “raro.. god, shut it, goblin, the paralysis will wear off.”

miguel fought through the overwhelming migraine, taking note to take another dose when he returned,“i need you to leave him here.”

“sorry dude, some guy has a hit on him in some universe and the reward for him being alive is so much more than him being dead,” she threw the goblin over as he tries to complain through his muffled cries.

confusion hits at the line, she continues as she types away on her watch, “some guy from an entirely different universe needs something of his, not entirely sure. revenge scheme, didn’t ask too much.”

“that breaks the rules of the multiverse entirely, wait, where did you get that watch” miguel questioned. this breaks the entirety of the code and calculations that he has been working on. everything he and lyla have built has been spot on, and this random spider-man breaks all of the script that he knows.

“none of your business, old man. maybe, goblin, here has been universe hopping after the multiverse went to shambles, like i said, didn’t ask the guy,” she shrugged. confidence, but that’s all being spider-man was, she looked up at him, saluting, “see you around, old guy.” 

before she was able to grab goblin to pull through the portal, miguel shot a web, flinging him to his own side, “you both are coming with me.”

“we’re doing this the hard way.”

“i said it first.”

“no, i said it first.” words in unison. miguel scrunched his eyebrows, and now, he needed to know the answers.

“fuck off, pendejo, give him to me,” she said, shooting a web, latching onto the villain, pulling him closer to her.

“pendejo? seriously? use a more colorful vocabulary,” miguel grabbed ahold of the web, using the sharp talons to cut them off. the sounds of the webs coming at him, yet he was blinded by the web for a split second before tearing it off. before she was able to hit him, he countered, delivering one crashing into the wall in front of him. she grunted in pain but managed to quickly recover, ready with renewed determination.

neither sides showed signs of relenting. they exchanged a flurry of blows, movements almost identically matching. the anonymous person seemed to be an impossible opponent, equaling the flow and style of the combat as his with swift strikes. the feeling as if he was fighting his own reflection, even the simulator that he built in the headquarters. though, there was a gap in experience as she slightly let up. miguel took advantage of the opening, webbing her leg, enough to slam her to the ground.

he wanted answers. 

breathing heavily, miguel pressed his claws enough on her arms, pinning her down, “who are you?”

“let me go, i don’t know who you are, or what universe of spider-man you are. just let me go,” she tried to claw at his arms, but his grip tightened as he held her against the ground. her attempts of kicking him, squirming around, similar to a little kid trying to escape an older sibling’s hold once they can’t escape from fighting. 

“let me go.”

“let me go.”

“let me go!”

the continuous of her thrashing around started to subside, yet her shouts started to turn quiet, repeating as if she felt trapped, which she was.

“i’ll let you go once you start answering me.”

“never, just let me go. you can have him, just let me go. i swear, i’m gonna kick you in your huevos,” her voice hushed but turned into annoyance. he sighed, throwing her arms. he stood up, just a hunch that she was just as stubborn as he was.

“thank you.. god,” she rubbed at her wrists specifically the one that held her watch as she sat up. trying to stand up, she felt to her knees, hands clutching the sides of her head.

“headache?” he questioned, wondering if she had the same. if they had various similarities, what could be one more?

“yeah, feels like i’m going crazy like someone’s trying to talking to me,” she massaged her temples as she rose to her feet. now, miguel needed to pry these answers out of her. who she was, what she was, what she does, and why was she like him.

“we’re from different dimensions, and we’re alike. why?” he questioned.

“aren’t all spider people the same?”

“no, if you come with me to earth-928, you’d see,” miguel started inputting information into his watch, ensuring that lyla had picked up all the information and running diagnostics on the spider-teen in front of him. yet, it was not picking up anything from her. another anomaly on the run?

“get kidnapped, no thanks. i’ll be out of your hair, so if you’ll excuse me,” she opened up a universe on her watch, ready to leave.

“my name is miguel o’hara and lead an elite strike force dedicated to the security of the multiver-“

“wait, what did you say your name was?”

“you didn’t even let me finish, it’s miguel o’hara. that doesn’t matter, what matters is,”

“dad?”

and that was when miguel knew all the answers he needed to know.

trying to find a different writing style. dont think i like it. this is just a draft, trying to play around the plot idea.

send requests in, lowkey wanna do miguel romance fanfics but idk

[imshii-kin]

Echoes of Devotion’

A Ninjago Story

Yandere Kai Smith x Male Reader

A sneak peek into something I’m working on. This is a rough, rough draft.

Summary: An over worked traveling doctor who just moved back into the trouble infested city named Ninjago because of a job offer with Borg Tech. meets fiery hot headed ninja while a random villain attacks the city?

What could possibly go wrong?

Yesterday, today, tomorrow, They are not consecutive. They are connected in a never-ending circle, Everything is Connected

- The Stranger

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The sound of traffic filled the night air, a strange calmness settling over the usually rampant city. M/n sits outside on the apartment fire escape, his legs dangling over the edge as he gazes at the sleepless city.

It was late summer, the air was hot with excitement and life, no one could sleep on nights like these.

M/n had heard all kinds of stories about Ninjago City since he moved, from snake attacks to Overlord takeovers, this city has been through it all. Resting his head on the fire escape railing, M/n allows his eyes to close, peacefully enjoying the night air.

Nights like these temporarily make M/n forget about his troubles, a moment of escape before he inevitably gets dragged down again by the reality of his situation.

A soft buzzing interrupts M/n's thoughts, pulling him back to reality. M/n pulls his phone out and flips it open to check the caller.

"Dad..." M/n's expression softens a bit as he sees the familiar face of his father, an older gentleman with peppered hair and a wise old look in his hazelnut eyes.

M/n accepts the call, gingerly putting the phone up to his ear. "Dad? What are you doing calling me at this hour?" M/n's voice was soft, barely above a whisper.

He patiently listened to the call, nodding now and then.

"I don't mind, I'm right next to the coffee shop, I can pick up a few pastries for you and Mom for tomorrow." M/n reassures his father. "I'll let you go and start heading over there now."

M/n hangs up the phone, silence blessing him once more. He pauses momentarily, enjoying the peaceful atmosphere, before standing up and leaving the fire escape.

❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜

M/n travels down the street, making his way to the local coffee shop. Eternal Espresso Emporium was its name, it was open 24 hours, which was something M/n could appreciate.

Reaching the small cafe, M/n quietly enters the shop, the bell atop the door ringing softly, announcing his presence. There was no one there except the barista, a young girl by the look of it.

Approaching the girl, wallet in hand, M/n's eyes glance over the pastries on display. "...I'll take three Pain au Chocolat please." He softly spoke, "And a lavender latte." lazily, his eyes drifted up to the girl, who was staring at him with a faint blush in her cheeks.

"Is something wrong?" M/n asks. The barista jolts in surprise, "Oh-! Um no- sorry," her cheeks glow red from embarrassment as she quickly turns to prepare his order.

M/n raised a brow but lets it go, deciding to take a closer look around the shop instead. The place was small but cozy, warm lights hung from the ceiling which was decorated with fake leaves, all of which were some shade of orange, yellow, and red.

The place sort of gave a cozy autumn feeling. The tables were made from wood, resembling tree trunks, and couches with yellow and copper color schemes accompanied the tables.

"Here's your order sir." M/n looked back over to the barista who was now holding a small box and a well-decorated coffee box. "Ah, right, thank you." He takes the box and coffee out of the employee's hand.

There's another ring, alerting everyone that someone else has entered the shop. M/n looks over, curious about who else was here this late at night.

A dark red hoodie was the first thing M/n saw.

The boy had warm brown hair that was spiked, it was odd but strangely fit him. His eyes were a reddish brown around his pupil with a darker chocolate brown color surrounding it. He had a scar on his eyebrow, giving him a rough look, as well as a few other scars on his hands.

"I'm here for a pickup under Kai." The boy in the red hood announced.

[adam-sadmon]

So this is gonna be for a very niche intersection of people who follow me but I've been sinking my teeth into Armored Core 6 lately and I thought it'd be fun (since I spend 90% of the game in the garage anyway) to build some AC's around the Thieves, sorta taking notes from their fighting style, their Personas, aesthetics etc.

So to kick us off is a rough draft that's actually become my go-to, main AC for my current NG+ build, High Priestess:

This is a MEAN fucking machine. Taking cues both from Makoto's Fist of the Northstar-style punch rushing in the Metaverse and her real world affinity for Aikido I set out to make an AC that just PUNCHES.

Obviously there's a bit more to it, it's wrll spec'd to with a focus on energy efficiency, recharge and weapon damage so that the dual Wuegers can basically one tap any non boss/AC in a single shot of its primary fire and quickly build up stagger against tougher opponents before overheating, I also threw in the Bullet Orbit to further increase our frankly ridiculous stagger buildup and to supplement our admittedly lacking ammo count and crowd control.

See, thing is, any grunt we touch dies, but they also ear up our ammo which we much through using the charged punch attack on the Wuegers. This, predominantly, is a boss/AC fight build (though I've refused to switch off of it and have cleared a lot of missions on little to no ammo just punching my way through with the laser lance).

SPEAKING OF, the laser lance. I originally wanted this build to be a lot more lightweight and speedy to mirror Johanna but the long and the short of it is having to be up close to land your shots and having to stand still when using your charged Wuegers results in a pretty quick death, and while the more medium-weight build we ended up with is by no means slow adding in the laser lance worked both to add to our punchiness and provide us an alternative means of catching up with our enemies.

That's about all there is to tell on the build front, even beyond being happy to have recreated a good few aspects of the Queen herself this build sorta took on a life of its own, it does more than slap, it PUNCHES.

I went for a colour scheme that's trying (and failing) to evoke the colour scheme of Johanna and I have an alternate colour scheme saved resembling Agnes' if I'm feeling spicy, as for decals I was going to make one of Johanna's face but basically any design not entirely made out of straight lines is a liiiiiiittle bit beyond me.

So yeah, if you are one of the two people interested in this stick around for if I ever make another one, if there's any interest I'll probably put a share code in the comments.

[rawring-rainbows]

So I'm working on a story about a paradox queen who's a God and her living island that travels world's and dimensions

The details are all very rough draft so bare with me and if you have questions I'll be happy to answer them hell it might even help me work on some details

Queen Oracion stands out to most gods who commonly just look over a planet or a solar system etc some gods come to be knowing their destiny like war gods but like her she came to be and had to learn from her mistakes and forge her own path

Okay so I thought of a big threat to my story

There's this curse right? It's extremely ancient they're called Death's wishes

No one knows where it came from usually if you ask someone about they say something like "The big bang might as well have written it"

The easiest way to make these things is to use let's say a prey animal putting extremely close to death then bringing it back basically you keep dipping it's soul in the river Styx over and over

And it becomes this rotting ghost like zombie like creature that if it cuts you and a part of it's bones splinter into your skin it spreads like a virus

Theres only one cure but the only way you can survive it till then is your will to live cause you'll be sitting there with your nerves on fire and your flesh rotting while your still alive your will helps prevent much damage from happening to your body

Depending on the character let's say if it's someone who doesn't want to live anymore they will either rot away in a matter of hours or turn into one of them

I can't think of a name for these parasite wolf creatures yet

If left unchecked they can kill EVERYTHING on a planet even plants and when nothing's left they basically make what my guy Duval is

who can absorb lives and use them to their advantage like those souls taken can help him heal from even his head getting cut off ya know?and if you don't get guys like him in check and kill him (which is extremely difficult if they get strong enough and let's say take billions of lives) he turns into not a hell beast but if a beast was hell

This form is much more horrifying in the naked eye

Those no way to really wipe these beast from exitance because they're basically death itself but our queen is going to try especially since she's forged the only known cure

Let's call them wolfsbane? I haven't decided on a name I'm happy with

Theyre attracted to weak/weak willed beings so those wolves start as lamb like beasts when sensing one nearby and the deaths wish will get an interest then like go after it and do something like attack it and break it's spine and through their steel wool like fur it can absorb the curse turning into those parasite like beasts they're covered in these procupine like quills all over them and more thick spines on their tails used for doing stuff like shooting them off and pinning them down by their flesh with great accuracy the curse doesn't work on them or beings who are let's say part skeleton (they're partially dead they can still harm them but not spread the curse)

Their colors are commonly pure black cause the spines are black and it helps when hunting more uncommonly they're spotted white and black dark brown or white and grey with markings resembling the moon

Their heads are usually extremely hard untill they have to cure u when the enemy isn't nearby their heads soften into these vortex like mouths and they slowly extract it into needles coming out of your flesh

Basically getting a reverse shot and depending on what you went through like if u didn't struggle too much before the cure you can experience some common symptoms like you wake up starving or thirsty you may feel like you lost a good bit of blood and have some extreme fatigue

If youve struggled and in time had even thoughts like you wanted to give up and die you can suffer symptoms such as a concerning amount of loss in muscle and fat rotted teeth and brittle bones

I've thought about maybe eventually starting this with an intro to her island in posts and giving paths to choose in the story

Cause a plot like this there's tons of unique story potential and people can go in my inbox and I may even insert some OC's from other bloggers if they want idk like I said lots of my ideas are in rough drafts and I'm nervous about posting this I've only told close friends most details I have about it

[martsonmars]

Hello people! Thanks for tagging me this past week, I love your snippets always <3

Little writing rant coming, feel free to skip to the actual content, which is under the cut!

Writing is hard. I've barely written anything all month, and it's fine. Maybe I've finally made peace with the fact that writing is a hobby, and it should be fun and not feel like a chore, and that I don't owe anything to anyone. I'm getting better at not forcing myself to write when I don't feel like it, which was something I did at the beginning of the year—after years of writer's block, from last September to December I managed to write almost every day, and it felt so good that when January came and writer's block with it, I felt awful and forced myself to write more than once. It doesn't work and it just makes everything worse, so I'm happy that I'm finally being kinder to myself and to my limits.

BUT what bothers me now is that I genuinely want to write, and I'm so excited about so many projects... It's the physical act of writing that makes me nauseous, lately. I open the doc/notes app/Tumblr draft/notebook/app for recording (because I've tried many methods), and I'm filled with dread. Which makes me sad. I almost felt better when, at the beginning of the year, I simply didn't want to write. At least I didn't feel like I had too much creative energy and no way to let it out—I was just drained. Now I'm full of things that want to be written, and I can never turn them into words. But I'll get there. It's just frustrating, especially since right now writing is basically the only thing that truly and somewhat consistently brings me joy.

Having said that, I have written a whole (2.2k) fic a few days ago. You might wonder how this doesn't contradict what I said before. It's because it's a terrible first draft, and it resembles more an outline than a proper fic in more than one spot, which is what I meant when I said that “I'm full of things that want to be written but I can't turn them into words”—having ideas and outlining is easy, writing is impossible. And you might say that first drafts are supposed to be terrible, and it's true, but I really hate editing in English. I usually only write when words are flowing well enough that the first draft is pretty decent—I still need to edit it, but it's quick and mostly painless. Because when a draft is rough and ugly, editing it makes me want to cry. I can never get words to obey me, and having to change every sentence really discourages me, especially when I have no idea how to make them better. When everything feels shallow and dull and boring and ugh. Yeah. I truly hate it.

But anyway. I do have this fic that's finished, but it needs to be edited so much that the final work will probably be twice as long. But, as I said, editing is truly painful, so who knows when I'll find the strength to do it??? But that's enough complaining.

Enjoy some snippets of a new kid fic, because writing Snowbaz with child fills my heart with so much joy 🥰 Under the cut with the tags <3

Some Baz POV.

The man looks close to dropping the bag and running away, and I don't blame him. “Yes. I've got the right address and the right name. 31 cheeseburgers with no pickles.”

If this whole situation was weird before, it's veering into absurd now. I would never order a cheeseburger without pickles.

Some Simon.

If anyone asked me to describe what happiness looks like, it would be this. Coming home after work to find my husband and my son sitting at the kitchen table in front of a mountain of cheeseburgers.

And some more Simon.

Leo wins his fight against the wrapper and lifts the first cheeseburger.

“Besides, look at him. He's so hungry and cute.”

Baz snorts and tugs me to his side to hug me and press his cheek against my stomach. I run my fingers through his hair, bringing his already dying bun to its final demise.

“He is,” he says, and I can hear the smile in his voice. “Really your son.”

We stay silent as Leo takes a huge bite and grins at us with his mouth full.

Tags!!!

@wellbelesbian @urban-sith @tea-brigade @sillyunicorn @mostlymaudlin @facewithoutheart @palimpsessed @otherpeoplesheartachept-2 @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @forabeatofadrum @johnwgrey @fatalfangirl @prettylightsbigcity @whatevertheweather @jbrrring @confused-bi-queer @moodandmist @bookish-bogwitch @letraspal @dragoneggo @captain-aralias @takitalks @theotherhufflepuff @otherworldsivelivedin @excalisbury @shemakesmeforget @starwarned @cutestkilla @ileadacharmedlife @gekkoinapeartree @bazzybelle @bloodiedpixie @stardustasincocaine @aroace-genderfluid-sheep @angelsfalling16 @basiltonbutliketheherb @messofthejess @ivelovedhimthroughworse @artsyunderstudy

[leah-bobeea]

Magazine Girl; Steve Rogers

You ever start writing a fic about a journalist reader at two am who’s eventually gonna end up doing steeb, over his desk, biting down on his expensive leather belt?

❀ ❀ ❀

Warnings: CEO!Steve x Journalist!Reader, Angst, Steve’s a little mean, Bossy Steve, Shy/Anxious reader, Dom!steve, mentions spanking, oral (m receiving), unprotected sex, coercion (a little teensy bit), Bad writing lol

Word Count: 3.9k

A/N: Terrible writing w/ a terribly rushed ending. Written on my phone, in my notes app, not beta read, and barely proofread.

❀ ❀ ❀

Yes, your hands were busy. Not busy typing out a rough draft of this stupid article on Steve Rogers, not busy calling his secretary to set up a meeting with the man, or the closest to him you could get, not busy doing their job at all. They were busy tapping your pen against the glass tabletop of your desk, successfully annoying Wanda, who sent you an aggravated look from across the room.

“Seriously, Y/n?” Wanda moved from where she was at her desk, clearly not making a breakthrough on her article for this month's issue either. You could only shake your head in reply. Throwing your head back to stare at the ceiling, you starting explaining. “Maria gave me this huge article, Wanda. Cover! And, trust me, I know she’s testing me and doesn’t think I’ll actually be able to do it so she can fire me, or belittle me, or- or something! I don’t know what to do, help me, bestie.” As you finished rambling you looked up at her with your best puppy dog eyes, hoping for some of that amazing advice she gives.

Wanda laughed and pulled a chair over from an empty desk, sitting down and haphazardly throwing her feet on top of your cluttered tabletop. “She wouldn’t give you an article you couldn’t handle, she loves you, Y/n. If it’s truly as difficult as you’re making it out as that means that she knows you’re ready for it, and you’ll do amazing. Who’s it on anyway?”

She was doing such a good job at easing your nerves until she brought up the topic. You whined high in your throat and threw your head to the side before uttering, “Steven Rogers,” you turned your body back to Wanda, “What more do I need to say?” Her eyes widened just a little. “Sheesh...I’d start making phone calls, and praying, maybe?”

❀ ❀ ❀

“Hello, Miss. Carter, um- this is Y/n L/n with Shield Mag-“ “Please hold, dear.”

You pulled the phone away from your head and let it rest on your naked thigh, quickly pressing the speaker button. It was times like this when you were grateful that you let your grandma convince you to buy a house phone. Peggy Carter was the fifth person you’d contacted trying to get an interview with this man and she was the second lady that humored you enough to at least pretend like she’d get back to you.

She’s his main assistant so you might have better luck this time...

Thirty minutes later you had your head inches off the ground and your toes wiggling in the air. Humming the annoying hold music to yourself, you braided, unbraided, and re-braided a single strand of your hair. At thirty-nine minutes you were ready to give up until you heard a click on the other line.

You scrambled to turn off the speaker and press the phone back to your ear.

“Miss. Carter I was hoping to set up an interview with Mr. Rogers, over the phone, in person, or through email, if that’s possible?” You asked, hopeful that she wouldn’t shoot you down immediately like everyone else.

“Well, Magazine Girl, I only do in person. But I am a very busy man, so I need to know right away, what’s in it for me?” Your breath hitched and you almost fell and cracked your head open from how startled hearing his voice made you. Then, you nearly gave yourself a head rush from how fast you sat up.

“Well, um, Sir, you would get a headlining article, and uh, a cover on the June issue of Shield Magazine. That’s um, that’s if you want a cover- you don’t have to be on the cover if you don’t want to, just the interview would be mentioned on the cover, but-“ His chuckle was gritty and vivid, effective in stopping your babble. “I’ll see you Friday around noon. Goodbye Magazine Girl.” He hung up on you before you could even comprehend anything but that captivating laugh.

You rubbed at your eyes and grabbed your planner and pen. “Friday at noon...”

❀ ❀ ❀

The next day you were back in the office, sitting in Wanda’s stiff chair with twin caramel lattes sitting in front of you. That was the thing about you, you’d come to work early bearing gifts just to tell your closest friend your good news. You’re sweet like that.

When Wanda arrived it was fifteen minutes later and your latte was halfway gone. Hearing her black stilettos click on the glossy linoleum made you perk up immediately. As she approached, you stood, handing her the latte and wrapping your arms around her lithe body.

“I got an interview!” You squealed, rocking your bodies side to side. She stilled you and smiled. “Gosh, that’s great, Y/n. How’d you get it?”

“Well, I called, like everyone, and he picked up, Wanda! he picked up! I’m scheduled for Friday, and my Lord, Wanda, his laugh, it's like honey...” You trailed off, sighing at the thought of him. Your head was rested on her shoulder, a faint smile on your face. “You’ve got a crush on him!” Wanda exclaimed, grabbing your shoulders and holding you an arm's length away to get a good look at your bashful face.

You gasped, “No I do not! That would be totally unprofessional!” The cackle that erupted from her made her sound like the wicked witch of the west. And honestly, under her stare, you felt like Dorothy stuck under that house.

When Wanda was finally done laughing maliciously she let you go, plopping down in her desk chair and sipping her latte. She pointed over and your desk and gave you a look. “Better start drafting those questions... we wouldn’t want you to blank on your crush.” “Wanda!”

❀ ❀ ❀

The days leading up to Friday were excruciatingly long, yet the hours until twelve flew past all too quickly.

It seemed as if your wardrobe was never ending, full of clothes that you deemed inappropriate for a meeting with the CEO of American Enterprises. You threw yourself back onto the bed, hair and makeup done but body still wrapped in a fluffy white towel. “Oh Milky, what am I gonna wear?” The soft white kitty glared at you from the pillow she was perched on, meowing at you aggressively.

Ten thirty blinked on the clock and you sat up, glancing at all of the clothes that were scattered on the floor. “I guess this will do.” You picked up the same emerald blazer you had chosen originally and layered it over some basic Levi’s, and gray low cut blouse flowing over your form. A belt was necessary, so you grazed over your options. Brown wouldn’t go, even though it was your only fancy belt. The only black one you had was old, the leather cracked and worn, but it had to do. You slipped on some pretty black heels, lucky that you painted your toes a similar color to your blouse. After accessorizing you sprayed your signature perfume, the one that got you your first college-aged boyfriend, and the same one that you were wearing when you got your first real job.

By the time you were on the Metro, it was eleven o’ six, and you were worried. If you were late you’d lose this chance, and probably your job. The car stopped around eleven fifteen, giving you fifteen minutes to make your way to the building, check-in, and try to not seem so nervous.

Finding the building wasn’t difficult at all, after all, it is the second biggest building in New York City, competing with Stark Tower. The “A” at the top wasn’t illuminated, but it still stood out against the other buildings, cowering over them.

You found that the doors were heavy and if you denied Wanda of going to those burn boot camps you would have extreme difficulty prying them open. The inside was classy, just as you expected. The lamps had blue shades and the front desk lit up with a design that resembled the American Flag, but with less curved stripes and only one large star.

The receptionist was one of the women who shot you down immediately when you called and was a little surprised when you checked in. “Hello, I’m here for Mr. Rogers, twelve o’clock?” She searched for something on her computer, clearly trying to see if the appointment was legitimate. When you were proven correct, she handed you a temporary security badge and a sharpie to write your name on it. “Have a seat over there when you’re finished. I’ll call for you when Mr. Rogers is ready for you.” She smiled, it was fake, but it helped you feel more comfortable.

The red couch was stiff and small, clearly not meant for long periods of sitting. The badge was clipped onto your blouse, not your blazer, and the weight of it was pulling at the already low cut neckline. You thought about moving it, but your attention was quickly turned to the coffee table, where your magazine sat, opened to an article you wrote. Your hands were a little shaky as you went to close the magazine, but you were interrupted before you could grasp the bent pages.

“Miss. Y/n? Mr. Rogers is ready for your interview. Head up to floor thirty six, the door on the right.” Miss receptionist sounded bored, her eyes never left the monitor in front of her. “Thanks.”

Some of the others in the waiting area looked up to you after hearing where you were going, causing you to blush.

You felt lucky to get the elevator to yourself. Thirty-six floors is a long way to go, yet you got there in under three. In the elevator you adjusted your outfit and flattened your hair, hoping it wasn’t frizzy.

The door on the right was clearly not just a meeting room but an office, which you thought was odd. You also found it odd that no one was in the room, you expected to at least be met with his assistant or secretary, if not Steve himself.

Your eyes scanned the room to make sure it was completely empty before taking a seat on the leather chair on the opposite side of the big desk. You opened your notebook and got out your lucky rooster pen before going over your questions once again, hoping he didn’t think they were stupid.

You waited fifteen minutes for him, growing increasingly irked as the minutes built up. When he walked through the door you felt like your heart stopped.

Six-four build covered in a black suit and tie, white undershirt pristine. Blonde hair disheveled and a perfectly manicured beard. The door slammed shut and you heard the clinking sound of a glass being set down. Steve lifted his head and you snapped yours to the front, hoping he didn’t catch you checking him out.

The room was silent besides a rustling coming from behind you. You busied yourself with your notebook, highlighting the questions you wanted to ask most.

“You’re a very patient girl.” He observed. Steve made you wait on purpose. He knew from the first person you called that you wanted an interview, he was friends with Maria Hill after all. But he wanted some entertainment, and after looking into you, he knew you were the right girl. So far he’s made you wait an hour and fourteen minutes for just a smidge of his attention.

“Yes, Sir.” You mumbled, accidentally stopping the highlighter too soon, pressing it down, and letting the pink ink bleed to the next page. He hummed in approval as he rounded the corner, drink in his hand, coat jacket discarded, sleeves rolled up, first couple buttons loose. Finally, Steve sat in the big chair, keeping eye contact with you as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the mahogany table.

“Give me that.” Your eyebrows furrowed at his statement, “What?” You asked, putting your pen down on your lap. Steve motioned for your notebook, and you opened your mouth, starting to stumble over your words. “Oh? um- Okay?” You handed it over to him and he relaxed back into his chair. A question bubbled in your throat, but you didn’t let it escape. Instead, you watched as his eyes scanned the papers, blue cursive, and pink highlighter, little stars and flowers drawn in the corners. “Mr. Rogers, are you ready to start the interview?” You tapped your watch, twelve twenty four.

He nodded, “Yes, I’m ready.” You cleared your throat and went to ask for your notebook, but he beat you to it. “Miss. L/n, is there an achievement or something that you’ve contributed to me that you are most proud of?” Why was he asking you your own questions? “Sir, I-“ He cut you off once again. “Answer the question, doll.”

You huffed and crossed your arms over your chest. “I- um, no. I haven’t contributed anything to you that I should be proud of, Sir.”

“Is there a particular moment or memory of building this relationship that stands out to you?” He continued with the questions, tilting his head to the side. Why was he twisting the questions onto you? When you didn’t come up with an answer he chuckled, sounding sickly sweet like molasses dripping straight from the sugarcane. “Patience finally wearing thin, honey?” You nodded eyes staring at his chest, you couldn’t quite muster up the courage to look him in the eye.

He snapped your notebook closed and slid it towards your side of the grand desk. “You couldn’t answer my questions correctly, Y/n.” You nodded, eyes now downcast, admiring the pattern on the blue carpet. You felt like you were going to cry. This big scary man was mean and just wouldn’t let you conduct your interview and you didn’t know why. “I’m sorry, Sir.”

“I know you are, doll. But, if you can’t answer my questions how can I answer yours? You have nothing to offer me.” This was it, you were losing your chance. “Business wise, that is.” Your head shook, and your hands were clasped together, your left thumb rubbing your right nail back and forth. “I don’t understand, Sir.”

“I’m friends with Maria, Y/n. If you’re able to get this article done and get me on the cover you’re gonna get a promotion, you want that, right doll?” Your eyes went wide, “Yes, Sir.” Now, he stood, coming around to the front where you are and leaning against the desk. “She said to make it difficult, but I don’t care enough to do all that. So, doll, I’ll answer your questions. They’re quite good actually. And I’ll do a little photoshoot for the cover, but you’ll need to pay me back.” You gulped, hands suddenly sweaty, you felt like a little chihuahua, trembling under his gaze.

“How? Um, how do I pay you?” Gosh, even your voice was shaky. “Stand up. Lose the blazer.” Steve commanded, slowly unbuckling his belt. You could faintly tell from the buckle that it was Hermès. You stood and took off your blazer in a rush, folding it poorly and setting it on the arm of the chair. “Atta girl.”

He placed his hands on your shoulders and then ran them down to your hands, giving them a little squeeze before he hooked his index fingers into your belt loops, pulling you closer. So close that the tips of your shoes were touching. He leaned down to kiss your neck and you stiffened, but when he grazed his teeth over the bruised spot he just created you melted into him, your hands grasping at the pristine white button up, letting out a little whimper.

Steve pushed you back a little and took in your form, then he pulled the little security badge off, tossing it to the side. Like a little kid, he pulled at the neckline of your shirt. “Off.” You would’ve giggled at him if he didn’t look so scary right now. His blue eyes were piercing into yours, left hand so tight on your hip you thought he might leave bruises.

By the time your shirt hit the floor, he was pushing at your shoulders, hinting at you to go to your knees. “Sir, I don’t know-“

You started, knees hitting the carpet underneath you. He shushed you and guided your head to look up at him. “It's okay, baby, you don’t have to know how. I’ll do all the work, doll. Now, undo your bra.” As expected you did as he asked immediately, fumbling with the clasp until it fell down your arms. It ended up next to your thigh as you watched him pull his belt through the loops.

Steve walked around you and kneeled down, belt in his hands. “Put your hands behind your back.” You nodded immediately, so submissive, completely at his mercy. “Yes, Sir.” Steve loved how polite you were. He made quick work of restraining you, tying your hands to rest against your jean clad ass. The metal felt harsh against your skin and the soft, expensive leather snaked up your arms.

When he was back in front of you he sighed and shook his head. “I should’ve had you unzip me first.” Hearing Steve say that finally brought you to the reality of what was about to happen. You watched with big eyes as he undid the button and then the zipper, the sound making you tremble. His dress pants puddled on the floor and you were in awe as he massaged his bulge through his boxers. Slowly, he pulled them down to the middle of his thighs. His cock bounced up to hit his abdomen and he hissed as he stroked it a few times. “Open as wide as you can, honey.”

As always, you did as asked. Your tongue stuck out a little, wetting your bottom lip. He grasped the back of your head and leaned you forward a little, then you felt his blunt tip on your tongue. You gagged and spluttered when Steve was about halfway seated, he pulled out and leaned down, kissing you sloppily. “Breathe through your nose, baby. Don’t forget.” Then he was back at slowly entering your throat. “Fuck...” he grunted, finally fully seated in your throat, your nose pressed against his nicely groomed pubic hair. He caressed your throat then, rubbing the bulge in your throat, resisting the urge to press down and have you choke on his cock even more. “So good, Y/n.”

Steve started rocking into your throat, slowly fucking it as spit leaked from the corners of your mouth. After minutes of abusing your throat, he finally pulled out, adoring the way tears ran down your cheeks and how you hiccupped, wanting to desperately rub at your raw throat to soothe it. Your hands pulled at the belt and your eyes begged Steve to undo it. “Up, doll.”

He hoisted you up from your armpits and bent you over the desk. Steve pressed kisses down your back and reached in front of you, unbuckling your belt and throwing it somewhere to the left of you, then he unbuttoned and unzipped your pants, tugging them down with fervor.

Steve undid your restraints and left more kisses down your back until he reached your ass, spreading your cheeks to reveal your tight hole and glistening cunt. “I’d love to see this ass all bruised and red, but I’ll have to save that for another day.” His index and middle finger ran circles on your clit, your back arching to press into him more. “Sir, please!” You gasped, your hand flying out to the edge of the table and nearly knocking over the glass of whiskey he left on a coaster when Steve finally pushed two fingers into your aching hole.

“Gotta open you up first, doll, get you all sloppy and ready for my cock.” You cried out as he hooked his fingers, rubbing the magic spot inside of you. “Please, Steve, please.” He cooed at you, pulling his fingers out, and instead traced his name over your clit. “You gonna come, baby? Huh? You gonna drench my fingers, little girl?” You were moaning in wanton, hips humping his hand desperately. He brought his other hand down and started fingerfucking you again, giving you just enough to push you over the edge.

Your moans were breathy, your legs twitching, and you were panting by the time your orgasm faded. “I hope you know I’m not done with you yet, doll, I still haven’t come inside you.” That made you whine high in your throat and you tried, to no avail, to slam your legs shut around his hand.

Steve’s right hand fisted his cock a few times, making sure he’s rock hard and dripping with pre-cum, while his left kept your lips spread, showing him your gorgeous pussy. The blunt head at your entrance shocked you, and you yelped at the intrusion. “Sir!”

He leaned his head down and spit where you were joined, trying to make the glide even easier. “Shut up, doll.” He snapped after you cried out. Once he was as deep as possible inside of you he reached for his belt, looping it over as if he was going to spank you, and stuffed it into your mouth. “Bite down,” Steve demanded, a hand snaked around to the front of your neck where he was applying light pressure.

When you tried to push back against him he held your hips down against the wood steadily and started snapping his hips at a fast speed. Each thrust pushed you down onto the table, letting your clit rub against the mahogany wood.

Your vision felt spacey like you could black out any moment as he choked you. Your orgasm washed over you and you had to use all the strength you had in you to keep biting down on the belt. You didn’t want to know what would happen if you disobeyed his and let it go. Steve’s hips harshly snapped against your ass a few more times before he stilled inside of you, filling you with his spunk.

Before Steve cleaned you up and let you leave his office he had to finger his cum back inside of you, making sure none of it went to waste. Then, he made sure you had a way home, and a way to contact him, because, “Now you’re no longer Magazine Girl, but My Girl.”

@lo-bells

[helloprettybb]

captain idiot

i found this in my drafts mostly complete so i finished the end and changed a little of the beginning. so if it seems a little rough, that’s because it is.

pairing: steve rogers x reader

description: steve is bad with feelings...

warnings: general angst but happy ending, cursing i think

word count: 2.4k

It’s the day you’ve dreamed about since you joined the Avengers and you’ve never wanted it to end quicker. It was actually a good day and when Steve told you he wanted to talk alone, you thought it would be even better.

You were worried you were reading into the quick touches or lingering gazes too much. But this basically confirmed he felt the same. Oh, how ignorant you were.

“So, what do you want to talk about?” you ask, trying to contain your excitement. You bite the inside of your lip to prevent the giddy smile from forming. Sitting beside him in the common room, you force your leg still as you wait for him to speak.

You’ve had a massive crush on Steve ever since you joined the team. Actually, you liked him even before that, when you saw him on TV for the first time. You were only sixteen at the time, but seeing people like you saving New York inspired you. All of your life, you’ve been ostracized and cast out for your abilities. While your parents tried to be supportive, they still held some fear. You don’t blame them, especially after you accidentally split the house in half with a tree.

You were only seventeen when you first met Fury. He offered a position on the team. You wanted to attend college, so you declined, but you kept in touch. After graduating from university three years later, you decided to join the team. Tensions between the team were high as Steve, Natasha and Sam just rejoined the team and the Accords were dropped. But gradually, strain eased and the team seemed back to normal. Tony started talking to Steve and Bucky even joined the group. Everyone lived in harmony, until today.

“I don’t know how to say this, so I’ll just be blunt.” Steve states his intense eye contact piercing into your soul. “I like you. More than just a friend.”

You try to remain calm, but you can feel the childish joy rise in your chest. Steadying your tone, you reply, “I like you, too.” For some reason, Steve doesn’t smile but looks more serious.

He sighs and asserts, “I was afraid you’d say that.” Your small smile immediately drops.

“What?” you ask, filled with confusion. He just confessed that he liked you, yet he doesn’t want you to like him back.

Steve sighs and explains, “Look, I really like you, but we can’t be together.”

Knitting your eyebrows together, you ask, “Why not?” Anger’s rising in your voice and you’re grateful it isn’t sadness. You don’t want Steve to know how much he hurt you.

“_______, I’m over a hundred years old.” Steve reasons. His serious demeanor drops and you’d feel sympathetic if you weren’t so angry. Behind Steve’s shoulder, you see vines emerge from the corner plant’s soil. Fuck.

“I’m twenty-four!” you exclaim.

“It’s not just that,” he says and you stand up, attempting to leave before destroying the compound.

Steve stands up and follows you out of the common room. You can’t outwalk Steve, so he’s barely behind you. You look down and see vines slowly sprouting through the floorboards. Steve doesn’t seem to notice as he continues, “If we broke up, it would affect working together.”

You try to tune out Steve’s voice in an attempt to calm yourself down, but the more he talks, the angrier you get. You finally reached the residential area, but unfortunately, your room is one of the farthest down the hall. “Steve, just leave me alone!” you exclaim, not even turning to face him.

Steve continues walking and pleads, “I’m sorry, _______. I just need you to understand why we can’t be together.”

You’re halfway down the hall and you bitterly reply, “Oh, I understand perfectly.” You keep walking, but you don’t hear Steve’s footsteps. At first, you think that he finally listened and decided to leave you alone, but looking down you see thick, green vines on the floor. Turning toward Steve for the first time, you see that his body is bound and the vines are constricting his body. A feeling of deja vu rushes over you. You’ve been here before and it didn’t end well. With a wave of your hand, you cause the vines to fall and release him. Before he could follow you anymore, you open your bedroom door and slam it shut.

-

“Steve, you need to talk to her.” Natasha picks up a drooping flower. “All the plants are dead.”

It’s been four days since the incident. You’ve barricaded yourself in your room, isolating yourself from everyone. Steve didn’t tell anyone, but when the plants started dying rapidly, people had some questions.

“What happened to the geraniums?” Bucky brings up the afternoon after the fight. The formerly bright pink geraniums look yellow and shriveled. Steve grips his fork tightly as his jaw clenches involuntarily. He could’ve sworn he saw Natasha give him the side-eye.

“Yeah and the weeping fig is looking a little sad, too.” Wanda points out. The once tall, healthy plant leans toward the ground and resembles its name. “Hey, has anyone seen _______?” Wanda adds. Everyone recounts their day and realizes they haven’t seen you at all. Steve keeps his head down to avoid any interrogation, but in a room full of enhanced beings and super-soldiers, it’s impossible.

“You’ve been awfully quiet, Steve.” Natasha states, implying that she knows more than she lets on.

“I haven’t seen her.” Steve says in his best captain for to cover his shiftiness. He stands from the table and subtly escapes the situation. As he leaves the kitchen, Steve could feel Natasha’s eyes burning into his back.

He reaches the residential area and he knows he should walk over to your room. In fact, he gets within five steps before ditching the idea altogether. Before he walks away, Steve takes one last glance at the door which is covered in dark, twisted vines, similar to the ones that nearly strangled him. Turning around, he walks back to his room and closes the door.

-

Everyone tries to talk to Steve, seeing as you aren’t leaving your room, but it proves futile when he starts to withdraw from the group, too.

“This is getting ridiculous,” Bucky says, pounding his coffee mug on the table during one breakfast that neither had you or Steve. Wanda jumps a little, startled by Bucky’s abrupt tone and hard hit on the table.

“I know, but what can we do about it?” Wanda questions.

“What can we do about it?” Bucky repeats, too much contempt in his voice for it being so early, “We can talk to him about it.”

“We already tried that,” Natasha speaks for the first time, her voice cool and collected, a sharp contrast to Bucky’s.

“Well, we can do it again! I’m sick of this. He’s been pining for her since she joined the team. I don’t know what the hell is wrong with him,” Bucky complains angrily.

“If it’s any consolation, _______ feels the same way.” Wanda chimes in. Bucky raises an eyebrow, wondering how she knows. Wanda explains, “Her thoughts are not very subtle during meetings.”

“So basically, they both like each other but aren’t together,” Natasha concludes, and Wanda and Bucky nod. “Then, let’s get them together.”

“You say that like it’s easy. But Steve is a stubborn son of a bitch.”

“Yeah and _______’s barricaded herself in her room.” Wanda chimes in.

“Fine, then we’ll talk to Steve.” Natasha states. When no one says anything, she starts, “So...” Taking a slow sip from her mug, she finishes, “Who’s going to talk to captain idiot?”

-

Steve hears a knock on his door. Head popping up from his paperwork, which he’s metaphorically and literally buried himself in for the past six days, he tells F.R.I.D.A.Y to tell whoever it is that he’s busy.

After F.R.I.D.A.Y relays the message, Steve hears “Bullshit.” He’d recognize that voice anywhere.

“Bucky?” he asks. Steve gets up and opens the door himself. “What are you doing here?”

“Are you serious, Steve?” Bucky asks. Steve stares dumbly back at him. Bucky glides past him and Steve steps aside. “Your room looks like shit,”

Steve rolls his eyes, “Did you come here just to insult my room?”

“No, I’m here to talk about _______.” Bucky says. Steve’s heart drops. He’s been tearing himself apart about the whole situation and the only times you don’t dominate his mind is when he’s working.

“I don’t want to talk about her.” Steve says plainly, although he knows it won’t stop Bucky.

“Don’t care. You need to grow the fuck up and see her.” Bucky says bluntly.

“Why?”

“Are you serious, Steve? She’s fucking heartbroken. Trapped in her room and you did this to her-”

“I didn’t mean to!” Steve argues back. Bucky stays silent, allowing Steve to continue. “I never wanted her to fall for me. I thought that if I confessed, she would reject me and let me move on. But when she reciprocated I didn’t know what to do.”

Bucky shakes his head, disappointed at his idiotic friend. “Well…” he sighs, “You gotta do something, man. She’s locked herself in the room and hasn’t come out in a week. We’re all concerned about her.”

Bucky waits for Steve to say something, but when he doesn’t, he simply shakes his head and leaves, muttering quietly.

Steve feels bad. Well, he feels more than bad. He feels fucking terrible. He never meant for it to be this… damaging. Steve thought that confessing would help himself but he never took into account your feelings. It seems he has to take Bucky’s advice and grow the fuck up.

-

There’s a light knock on your door for the first time in a week. You lift your head from your bed, which is now covered in crushed, dead leaves. “What do you want?” you call out.

“I want to talk,” It’s Steve.

“I don’t want to,” you reply.

“I know, so you don’t have to. Please, ______. Just listen to what I gotta say and you can ignore me for the rest of your life.” he pleads. You sigh, casually motioning toward the door and signaling a branch to open the door.

Steve walks in and sees you curled up in your bed with your back to him. He closes the door behind him and starts to speak, “I’m sorry. I know that’s not enough and definitely too late, but if you ignore everything I say, I just want you to know that I’m sorry.”

You don’t say anything so Steve takes it as a good sign. He continues, “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I care about you so much, but I was scared about what a relationship could mean. Not just because of the age difference or the power dynamic, but what it could mean for us. I don’t want to lose you.” He tried to be clear, but his scattered brain turned his articulate speech into a jumble of excuses.

“______?” he moves toward you and when no branches try to stop him, he continues. He reaches your bed and becomes concerned that you’re not speaking.. “Doll, talk to me please.”

You turn toward him and his heart breaks at the sight. Your eyes are red and your cheeks are stained with tears. He instinctively pulls you into a hug and you just about fall into him. You sob into his chest and he doesn’t say anything. Steve smoothes his hand up and down your back, trying to calm you down. It helps and your breathing starts to even out. When you feel like you’re able to speak, you move away to face him.

“I don’t know why I’m so upset, I just-” you try to speak but feel another wave of sadness his you. Steve brings you back to his chest and you cry some more.

“It’s okay, take your time.” Steve assures you. Fuck, you should be mad at him. But all your anger washes away as you let everything out.

Once you finish crying, you pull away to talk again. “There was this one guy in high school. I really liked him and I thought he liked me back.” You start and a warm feeling forms in your chest when you see that Steve is intently listening. “I told him how I felt and he said he felt the same. But then,” You start to get choked up again and Steve rubs your arm soothingly.

“But he said that he can’t be with me because I’m too dangerous. I guess he was right because, well I was furious. Steve,” You look at him with pleading eyes, “You gotta understand, I was barely 16 when this happened. I was just a kid.”

You start to ramble and Steve tells you, “_______, no matter what happened, I’ll still care about you. Promise, nothing can change how I feel about you,”

You let out a shaky breath, “When he got up to leave, some of my vines caught his leg. I could barely control this,” You gesture to your room of overgrown foliage. “Back then. Sowhen I tried to release him, more vines started to trap him. I’ll never forget him yelling. Begging me to stop, but I couldn’t, Steve. I couldn’t control my emotions and I couldn’t control my powers.”

Tears start streaming down your face again, “He was right, Steve. I was too dangerous. I’ll always be.”

He hugs you again before you could finish that thought. “No, no, no.” Steve whispers in your ear. “Honey, you’re not dangerous. He was wrong, _______.” He looks you in the eye. “You’ll never have to feel like that ever again.”

“Promise?” you ask weakly.

“I promise.” he says, “Nothing can make me stop loving you.”

[memento-morri-writes]

Help!  So, I came up with the idea to replace one of my planned scenes for ATQH with a different scene.  I can’t decide between the two, and I’m struggling.  So, ramblings under the cut, in case anyone cares to help me decide.

Context:  This all takes place in “act 4″, aka the time closely following Lavinia’s betrayal.  This scene would take place a few weeks out from the actual betrayal itself.  Fallon hasn’t been sleeping well, plague with nightmares and under a lot of emotional stress due to that, but also due to the pressure of trying to avoid war with Oryn, even though they’re not technically the ones who tried to kill her.  (See here)

Scene 1 (the original):  There's a public event of some sort, and there's someone there who vaguely resembles a person who did something bad to Fallon recently.  She hasn't been sleeping well, and mistakes the (innocent) person for the bad person.  It's only for a second or two, but it freaks her out, and people start notice that she's acting weird, since she's more or less on the verge of a panic attack, also due to the crowd and stress she's been under the past few weeks Pros: - it's public, so it allows me to feed onto my subplot for later (between acts 4 and 5) of there being very not nice gossip about Fallon, as well as some of the other characters.  Yk, it's a crowded public event, so there's not going to be any stopping the rumor mill, once at least a few people notice what's going on. - it works as a lead-up to another scene I have planned. - I already made the look-alike sim, and I wrote a rough draft of the scene. - rather than characters being angry at Fallon (but angry bc of worry), they'd be more concerned, I guess??? Hard to explain without showing you, and like i said, I’m not happy with my draft. Cons: - I'm not sold on my rough draft of the scene, but it's only a draft. - I don't want it to seem stereotypical or boring.

Scene 2 (the newcomer):  Fallon (almost) faints from exhaustion at dinner.  Kris and Nina are there, and see it happen.  She is forced to admit how little she's been sleeping and how bad stuff has been for her, which is a revelation especially to Nina, who Fallon has kind of kept in the dark, along with basically everyone. Pros: - Characters collapsing is my jam. - Aggressive concern <333 - Sets up two scenes that could come after it, one between  Kris and Nina (which sets up more stuff down the line (act 5)), and also the same scene that option one would set up, just modified and adjusted. - I've already written a draft of the first part of the scene, and I love that draft. Cons: - I don't want it to feel too similar to another scene in the story where someone is angry at Fallon for not taking care of herself. - Not public, so doesn't feed into my rumor plot that pops up in Act 5. - also, I don’t necessarily think “angry” is truly the right word, and I don’t want it to feel like people are actually blaming Fallon for this or demonizing her for it.

That’s the info, I guess.  If anyone has any thoughts, feel free to let me know?? Maybe??

[haokyeom]

all the stars | kim mingyu

ミ★ synopsis: in which you fall in love with your rival, kim mingyu.

ミ★ genre: sin of envy!mingyu, ceo!mingyu, ceo!reader, enemies to lovers!au, angst, fluff, some humor

ミ★ warnings: mentions of blood and broken glass

ミ★ word count: 8,764

ミ★ pairings: mingyu x female reader

ミ★ notes: hi guys ! it’s lila, aka, @viastro​ ! this is my last post for the lucky 7 collaboration </33 this one is actually so fucking long for no reason i am so sorry HAHAHA this was so exciting to be a part of even tho i kinda procrastinated and made all of the oneshots ten million years long </33 this one was really exciting to write tho. think it might be one of my favorite works along with my minghao oneshot for this collab :o i hope you guys like it ! make sure to give mingyu lots of love <3

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They say to live the life you dream of, you have to work hard. Some people can start from the bottom and work their way up to the top. While others are fortunate enough to start directly from the top due to the resources that are available to them. 

Unluckily for you, you are not one of the latters. You worked hard to get where you are now, being the CEO of Bloom. You didn’t earn the status of CEO through being the heir to the company, no. You built Bloom on your own, and now you’re one of the youngest, as well as the richest, in the business of the gaming industry. 

However, as it was said before, you’re one of the youngest and richest. There’s another that you’re currently ahead of in the business, some claim to be your rival in the industry. The two of you are always clashing on the charts, always competing at the same time. Since you just recently launched a new update for your game, you’re higher on the ladder than him. For now. 

Kim Mingyu, the CEO of Ainsoft. At the age of 19 he inherited the money to start up his own gaming company, which ended up being incredibly successful. As he is now 23, and one of the youngest and richest in South Korea. Right beside you on the charts, but you started from the ground up, while he had a bit of help. 

What you don’t know is that Mingyu is truly out of this world. Tall, handsome, and rich, yes. However, he is actually not a part of this world. For he is one of the seven deadly sins, 

The Sin of Envy.

And you, yln yn, are at the top of his list. 

“Nah, he’s a villain. If you wanna make him look the part, he should look less soft. Taller, broader, dark hair, nice tan skin. Yes! Perfect.” You clap your hands once your game designer makes the changes you requested. Minghao turns to glance at you with a look that basically says, ugh! this bitch. 

“... What?” 

“You literally just had me draw Kim Mingyu.” You purse your lips once you see the resemblance, and turn your head away, letting out a whistle tune. Minghao chuckles, deleting the edits he made so that the drawing is back to its original rough draft. 

“You know, it’s not my fault that he looks like the perfect villain.” You say to Minghao, and he waves his hand away at you, flashing you a grin. “I’ll work on this and show you the draft when I’m done, deal?” 

You smile, giving the black haired beauty a thumbs up. “Deal.” 

And with that, you turn and stroll back to your office. You check in with your other employees on the way there, seeing how the design and coding is going for the upcoming game you plan to discuss with investors in a month or so. 

With a smile and wave of your hand, you step into your office, shutting the door behind you and walking over to your desk. You sit down, letting out a breath and closing your eyes as you rest your head on the back of your seat. 

You quickly get interrupted by a knock on your door, and you call out that they can come in. Sitting up straighter in your seat, you watch as your COO, Chan, steps into your office with a straight face. You raise an eyebrow, knowing that he brought news you must not like. 

“What is it?” You ask as Chan sits down in the seat in front of your desk, and he lets out a sigh. He places the small envelope before you, and you purse your lips, reaching out and taking it. You carefully open up the red paper, and pull out what seems to be an invitation.

You immediately frown at what you read, and you glance up at Chan to see him also looking at the piece of paper as if it were cursed. You place it back down onto the table, letting out a sigh and slumping in your seat. 

“Why is Kim Mingyu inviting me to his gala?” You ask, pointing to the invitation in disgust, and Chan shrugs in response. He looks rather tired as well, and you feel a bit bad for your friend. 

His black hair isn’t as put together as it was in the morning, showing that he must’ve been running his hands through it a lot during the day. His tie is a bit loosened as well, and he’s more hunched over. You know for a fact that once he leaves your office, he won’t be showing any sign of fatigue to your employees. You don’t blame him for being tired though, it’s a stressful process trying to create a new game. 

“I think he might be planning something.” Chan mutters, squinting at the invitation from his seat. You tilt your head, wondering what Mingyu could possibly be scheming. You’ve never met him before, as you’re not one to go out to galas or many public events, and he’s never invited you to one of his galas before. Chan is usually the one who attends those things because he knows you’d much rather work on new game developments or on updates for any existing games than waste time at a party. 

“Of course he is. He never invites me to these things, and I’ve also never met him, yet we’re each other's biggest competitor. You’re the only one who has spoken to Mingyu before.” You say, pointing to Chan, who is now rubbing his eyes with the back of his hands. Once he’s done he glances at you, giving you a shrug of his shoulders. 

“All I can remember is that he’s really tall, and pretty cocky.” 

“Only a little bit?” 

“Nah, like. The type that knows everyone loves him and can get anyone he wants without trying.” You purse your lips, turning your head away with a scowl. From what you’re hearing, Kim Mingyu is the worst type of man. 

“I’m not going.” You state with finality, turning back towards your computer. You begin typing away for a minute, only to pause when you realize that Chan is still sitting in your seat, staring at you. Your eyes immediately widen and you shake your head, while Chan stands up and raises his hands towards you. “Absolutely not!”

“You didn’t even hear what I was going to say!”

“Because I already know what you were going to say!” You exclaim with a baffled expression on your face, and Chan gives you a defeated look in return. He purses his lips and you squint back at him. After a moment Chan finally says, “I think you should go.”

“Give me one good reason why.” You tell him and Chan grins, having already expected you to say that. 

“It’s an opportunity to get information on the enemy.” Chan states, and you raise an eyebrow. Leaning back into your seat, you signal for him to go on.

“Listen. Mingyu is known to hold these big galas when they’re planning on launching a new game, right?” Chan glances at you for your reaction, and you nod your head. “So, you can go to try and get information. You’ve never met Mingyu, and he’s never met you. What if you managed to even swoon him?” 

You roll your eyes, grabbing your stapler to throw it at your partner’s head, and he raises his arms in surrender, letting out giggles at your reaction. You place the almost weapon back down on your table, and bite your finger, a habit you do when you start to think heavily about something. 

Chan has a point. It’s a dirty way of playing the game, but hey, you’re in the gaming industry. What you and Chan are planning on doing isn’t that bad anyways. You’re just going to see what his next game may be, report it back to your employees, and make sure your new game release will be a thousand times better than his. 

Which is why you turn back to Chan, a newly formed smirk on your lips, and he grins evilly back. You rest your chin on the palm of your hand, “Guess I have plans this Saturday.”

“Ms. yln, the CEO of Bloom, has just arrived at Kim Mingyu’s gala. This is her first time attending Mr. Kim’s gala since they are the two biggest competitors in the gaming industry. She’s wearing an emerald green…” 

You ignore the voices of the reporters as you step out of your bugatti chiron with a knowing smile on your face. You hand your keys to the valet, giving them a nod as you walk down the red carpet. You flip your hair over your shoulder, before walking up the steps and into the grand venue. 

You feel the eyes on you when you step in, and you bow to those around you. You walk further into the ballroom of the hotel, running a hand through your hair as you walk up to one of the tables. You take out your phone from the strap on your leg, sending Chan a quick text that you’re going to curse him for not coming with you. To which he replies, 

chan: love you too sexci :D

“Champagne, Ms. yln?” You turn to glance at the voice, to find a young waiter standing before you, holding fancy glasses filled with the expensive alcohol. You give him a small smile, and watch as a blush rises to his cheeks when you take one. “Thank you so much.” 

He bows, before turning and walking away. You take a tiny sip and let out a pleased noise once you taste the unexpected sweetness to it. You ponder your luck on your favorite alcohol getting served at the gala you dreaded going to, only to receive an answer from the voice beside you. 

“Montaudon Brut, your favorite.” You turn your head to find none other than the Kim Mingyu standing close beside you, a knowing smirk on his face as he stares at you. You raise an eyebrow, turning your body to face him as you look back into his eyes. 

“How’d you know?” You ask with a small smile, and he shrugs, running a hand through his perfectly styled hair, damn you kim mingyu, before giving you a mischievous look. “Did a little bit of research.” 

You let out an, ah, before turning your head away to sweep the room. You lock eyes with a few onlookers, but they quickly glance the other way, making the corner of your lips tilt upwards a bit. You take in the decorations on the ceiling, from the bright pink and white flowers, to the green leafy plants hanging next to the fairy lights. What used to just be a golden ballroom inside a hotel now resembles what you’d consider a great option for what heaven may look like. 

It’s rather ironic actually, considering that the Sin of Envy is standing right beside you. Mingyu watches you with fire in his eyes, having not expected you to be more gorgeous in person than in pictures, let alone when the fairy lights cast an iridescent glow over you.

“The decorations are lovely, did you pick them out yourself as well?” You ask, turning to glance back at Mingyu, just to feel your breath get caught in your throat when you catch the intense look in his eyes. He tilts his head at you, opening his mouth to say something when the sound of the mic turning on catches both of your attention. 

Mingyu flashes you a mischievous smile, “That’s my signal to go and greet everyone. I’ll see you later?” 

You find yourself smirking, nodding your head and waving off the handsome man with your hand. “You know where to find me.” 

And with that, Mingyu turns and walks off the stage. All while you head off in the opposite direction to go and get some info on his upcoming game. You notice a group consisting of a few women and men who are eyeing you, and you walk over to them. They seemed to not have expected you to go up to them due to their eyes widening slightly, and you let out a grin when you reach their table. 

“Ms. yln, what an honor it is to meet you.” The tallest male says, and you extend your hand out to shake his. Only to bite the inside of your cheek when he raises your hand up and presses a kiss to the back of it instead. He leans back and you glance at the rest of the people around him, just for them to immediately bow to you. You bow back, before giving the man a smile. “What’s your name?”

“My name is Cha Eunwoo, I’m Mingyu’s game designer.” You nod your head, mentally patting yourself on the back for finding one of the main people in charge of making Mingyu’s newest release. You run a hand through your hair before turning to ask, “What got you into game design?” 

The two of you spend the next hour talking about Eunwoo’s experience working with Mingyu. You find yourself enjoying the pretty man’s company. He’s nice, witty, charming, and rather funny. You wish he could be a part of your team, but alas. At least you found out small bits and pieces of what could potentially be Ainsoft’s next release. 

What you’ve gathered so far is that there’s mentions of a dystopian universe, and a team. You’re worried that may be all you’re able to get, but you think that it could be enough. You wave bye to Eunwoo, and he tells you he was happy that he got to speak to you, before you turn and walk back over to your table. 

You raise an eyebrow when you see that your table is now full, so you decide to walk around. Other than doing the occasional bow, you don’t feel like talking to anyone else for now, so you continue to roam around. You tilt your head when you find a hallway close to the stage, so you walk down it. Taking in the hanging green plants on the ceiling, finding the interior decoration of the gala to be impeccable. You see doors leading to a balcony once you’re closer to the end of the hallway, and you step out. 

You take a sip of your champagne when you find Mingyu looking over the ledge, staring out at the city. You raise an eyebrow and walk over, but he doesn’t seem startled by your presence. He just continues to look at the skyline, taking in deep breaths of the cold, night air. 

“Thought you said you’d find me?” You joke after a moment, and Mingyu turns to glance at you. He lets out an amused grin, shaking his head at you. “Wanted to give you a little adventure.” Is all he replies, and you find yourself smiling. 

The two of you stare out at the skyline together in silence, and you feel that you’re the calmest you’ve been in months as you stand beside Mingyu. Glancing up at the night sky you notice a shooting star, and you nudge the man. He turns to look at you, and you point up at the sky with a glimmer to your eye, “Look! A shooting star.” 

Mingyu looks up at the sky, and he catches the very last second of the shooting star. He chuckles, knowing that means one of the stars is on their way to fulfill a quest, but of course, you don’t know that. So he turns to glance at you, just to find that your eyes are closed, and your hands are clasped together as you make a wish up to the shooting star. 

Mingyu feels something in his chest at the sight, and he wonders whether he may be having a heart attack, but then he remembers that he’s immortal. You open your eyes and turn to glance at Mingyu, and that’s when he feels his heart stop. 

He realizes that your eyes outshine all the stars in the sky with the way they brightly bore into his, and he finds the visual so enchanting, that he forgets to speak. You tilt your head to the side at his silence, and you take the last sip of your champagne, before placing the empty glass onto the ledge. 

“So quiet now. Have you just realized how pretty I am?” You tease, and Mingyu snaps out of his trance. He leans in closer to your face, and your eyes widen when his nose almost touches yours. The handsome man lets out a smile, “I’ve always known you were stunning, yn. However, I didn’t expect you to be even prettier in person.” And with that, he leans back at his full height, chuckling at your surprised expression. 

You squint at him, “Shut up.”

“Awe, is my biggest rival shy now?” Mingyu asks, and you roll your eyes. You nudge him with your shoulder, and he hides his smile behind the glass of champagne, taking a large sip of it. You feel your phone vibrate in the strap on your thigh, so you stick your leg out of the slit of your dress. Mingyu glances down and his eyes widen slightly at the sight of you taking your phone out of the strap. 

“You kept… your phone there?” You nod your head without looking at Mingyu, seeing that Chan needs you to come home so he can discuss one of the character designs for the game you’re creating. You place your phone back in the strap, before hiding your leg from view. Turning towards Mingyu, you give him a grin.

“I have to take my leave now. Thank you for inviting me to your gala, I had a wonderful time.” You tell Mingyu, and he purses his lips at the fact that he feels the slightest bit of disappointment in his chest from you leaving already. 

“So soon?” Mingyu asks and you nod your head, muttering that duty calls. You’re about to turn around to leave when you feel a hand grasp your wrist, and you glance behind you to see Mingyu staring at you with a small smile.

“Will I see you again?” 

Your eyes widen at the question, having not expected for there to be a next time. While Mingyu continues to look at you with a glint in his eye, and you wonder why he wants to initiate a relationship between the two of you. However, you also enjoy Mingyu’s company, so it really has you thinking. 

“Maybe. Depends on what the Gods have in store for us.” You answer, and Mingyu finds it so painfully ironic that he lets out a laugh, to which you find yourself smiling back. He nods his head, letting go of your wrist so that you can leave the gala. 

“I’ll see you, yln yn.” You flip your hair over your shoulder, waving bye to Mingyu. “See you, Kim Mingyu.” 

And with that, you walk off the balcony. Leaving Mingyu alone underneath the night sky. He lets out a breath, turning back towards the ledge as he decides to head back into the gala after a few minutes. 

Mingyu glances up at the stars, and he comes to realize that you’re all he can think about as he does so. 

“Minghao!” The black haired beauty turns in the direction he heard you call, just to find you quickly walking over with an excited smile on your face. He raises an eyebrow, about to open his mouth to ask how much espresso you got in your coffee, just for you to slam your journal onto his desk. “Someone’s excited.”

“I had a dream.”

“So did Rapunzel and Flynn Rider.” You squint at Minghao, and he gives you a smile that convinces you not to reach out and smack the back of his head. So you instead open up your journal, showing the drawing you made at four in the morning the night before, and Minghao’s eyes widen slightly in awe.

“These are…”

“Perfect.”

“An incredibly different vibe from the characters we had drawn out before.” Minghao points out, and you nod your head. Running a hand through your hair, you give him a grin. “Don’t you think they suit the game so much better though? I was unsure of the direction we were going in, but after what I learned at the gala, I think these characters will be better.” 

Minghao nods his head in agreement, turning back towards the drawing. You stare at the drawing as well, “I had a dream last night and as soon as I woke up I just had to draw the characters I dreamt of. This is what I got. I want you to show this to the team and make these characters come to life by the end of next week.” You tell Minghao, and he purses his lips. He grasps the journal and raises it up towards his face, taking in the detail of their outfits, the brightness of the hair, and their varying facial expressions. 

“What kind of dream did you have?” Minghao asks after a moment, and you tilt your head at the thought of it. Perhaps you had that bizarre dream because you watched that one alien episode of buzzfeed unsolved to try and stop thinking of Mingyu, but you’re not sure. 

“These weird aliens kept trying to peg me with their tentacles.” You mutter with a look of unease displayed over your features, and Minghao just stares at you in concern. You snap out of the memory, turning back towards Minghao and giving him a small smile. 

“You can create these by the end of next week, right?”

“You dreamt… of tentacle porn?” You let out a laugh, reaching out and resting a hand on Minghao’s shoulder. “Remind me to not watch anything involving aliens before I go to sleep.” 

Minghao nods his head, “Noted.”

And after he confirms that he’ll be able to have the characters drawn out and will show them to you as soon as they’re done, you walk back to your office after checking with your other employees. You’re about to turn the corner to your office when Chan stops you, a bright smile on his face that has you suspicious. 

“...What?”

“You want coffee?”

“I don’t like coffee.”

“Well, let’s make you like it! Let’s go!” Chan says quickly, hooking his arm with yours and pulling you in the opposite direction of your office. With a frown you pull your arm away, squinting at Chan. “Why are you stopping me from going into my office?”

“Why… not?” You stare at Chan with a bored expression, before turning around and opening the door to your office, promptly ignoring Chan’s sounds of protest. You find yourself staring at the back of Mingyu’s head, who is sitting in the seat placed in front of your desk.

“Kim Mingyu.” You state, and the man turns around, flashing you a smile. His black hair is up in the style he had at the gala, revealing his forehead and strong eyebrows. He’s wearing a black dress shirt, the top buttons being unbuttoned, revealing a bit of his chest, and you raise an eyebrow. You take notice of his sharp canines for the first time as he smiles at you, and for some reason, you’re intrigued. 

“To what do I owe the pleasure of having you in my office right now?” You ask as you walk up to your chair, feeling Mingyu’s eyes on you the whole way there. You sit down in your seat, and look up into his eyes, finding the same intense look that he had at the night of the gala two weeks prior. Mingyu smiles, leaning his head back into the chair, and your eyes trail down to his Adam's apple, watching it move as he swallows. 

“You weren’t making any moves to come and see me again, so I decided to pay my rival a visit and ask her out for coffee.” You choke on your saliva at the end of his sentence, and Mingyu smiles at that. You stare at him with wide eyes, and he rests his chin on his hand, looking at you with amusement dancing in his deep brown eyes. 

The two of you weren’t supposed to meet again. By you going to the gala it was simply for your own gain, to learn more about his upcoming game. However, you ended up learning more about the enemy himself. You know that you shouldn’t entertain him like this, but here you are, wanting to get to know your rival more.

And so you regain your composure, and tilt your head to the side, now grinning back at Mingyu. “After your research on me, I thought you’d learn that I’m more of a tea person.” 

Mingyu bites his finger, letting out a smile at that. “Guess the internet isn’t always that reliable.” 

You nod your head, before standing up from the chair and heading over to the door. Mingyu raises an eyebrow at you moving to leave without another word, and you turn your head to look at him. You smirk, “Are you coming or what? I know a good tea place down the street from here.” 

Mingyu laughs, standing up from the seat and grabbing the maroon jacket that was laid over the back of it. He puts it on, and you find that he looks like the epitome of a God as he walks up to you. Once he’s standing in front of you, the two of you stare into each other’s eyes for a moment. 

Mingyu thinks that emerald green complements your eye color as he stares at you, curious as to how he didn’t notice it when you wore that emerald green dress at the gala. While you wonder how cursed you have to be for your rival to be one of the prettiest people you’ve ever laid eyes on. So you grin, opening the door for him and pointing out with your arm. “After you.” 

Mingyu chuckles out, “How sweet of you.” as he steps out of your office. 

The two of you walk over towards the elevators, and you glance over to see Minghao staring at you with a small smirk on his face, while Chan looks like he’s shitting himself. You raise an eyebrow at them, and Minghao makes his hands look like they’re kissing, and Chan just makes the motion that looks like he’s praying to the Gods. You roll your eyes, before turning back towards Mingyu to see him bowing his head towards your other employees that are looking at the both of you. 

at least he’s respectful.

“Are you gonna pay for my tea?” Mingyu asks once the two of you enter the elevator, and you smile, turning to look at your rival. You reach over and press the star button, and the elevator makes its way down. After a second of silence you respond, 

“Sure, I’ll pay for your tea as a celebration for the fact that I’m in the #1 spot right now.” You answer, giving Mingyu a cheeky smile, and he rolls his eyes. 

For now, Mingyu thinks to himself bitterly once the elevator doors open. 

“You fucking suck at fall guys.” You mutter to Mingyu once you hear him yell out beside you. He chooses to ignore that comment so that he can try and make it into the qualifying round, and you let out a squeal once you take the last spot. Mingyu glares at the screen, seeing the word eliminated flash across it while you celebrate. 

Mingyu removes his headset, and turns to glare at you on the other side of your gaming room, clapping your hands happily. He lets out a groan and rests his head on the back of the chair, causing you to let out a laugh at his reaction. 

“Who would’ve thought that the CEO of Ainsoft is so terrible at fall guys?” You tease, and Mingyu rolls his eyes. He stands up from the seat without another word and walks over to you. You open your mouth to ask what he’s doing, only for your whole world to be flipped upside down when he throws you over your shoulder. You let out a laugh, “Put me down!” 

“No.” Mingyu states, smiling as he spins around, hearing you let out a squeal as he does so. You threaten that you’re going to throw up onto the back of his shirt if he doesn’t set you down, and he laughs. “Then apologize and tell me I’m the best player ever.” 

“Lying is a sin, Mingyu.”

“Bruh…” And so, Mingyu spins you around a few more times before setting you down onto the couch with a laugh. The two of you freeze once you realize the position you’re in, with him hovering over you and you laying flat on your back. 

It’s been a couple months since the gala, and you and Mingyu have gotten close. What started out as you trying to beat him, led to you wanting to get to know him, and now you can’t help but think how nice it must be to kiss him as you stare down at his soft, pink lips. 

It wasn’t supposed to be like this, Mingyu thinks as he stares into your eyes. He didn’t even think he was capable of feeling this way towards anyone. But it’s when he lifts up his hand and rests it on your cheek, and he watches as your eyes glance down towards his lips that he realizes,

“I want you.” Mingyu murmurs, and your breath hitches at his words. 

And so the two of you stare at each other for a moment in silence, before you let out a small smile. 

“Only if you can beat me at fall guys.” Mingyu squints at you, and you giggle at his reaction. He rolls his eyes before leaning down and capturing your lips in a kiss for the first time.

“Fuck!” You hear Mingyu yell as you step into his office. It’s already late at night, almost one am, and yet Mingyu is still here working at his desk. He glances up at you when he hears the sound of the door close, and he turns off his computer when you walk towards him.

His hair isn’t perfectly put together anymore based on the way it’s falling over his forehead now. His tie is loosened and is just hanging around his neck, the first few buttons now unbuttoned on his shirt as well. You take notice of the bags under his eyes, and you realize he’s been lacking sleep. 

“Yn, how did you get in?” Mingyu asks tiredly, standing up from his desk and walking over to you. You chuckle, holding up the spare keys that he left at your house a week prior and dangling it in front of his face. He opens up his hand, and you drop the keys onto the palm of his hand. Mingyu lets out a small, “Ah.” and you chuckle. 

You wrap your arms around his waist, rubbing his back and he finds himself smiling softly at the feeling. He lets out a breath of relief and cradles your head, pressing a kiss to the top of it. After a moment you pull back and give him a smile, “Let’s take you home, mm? You’re overworking yourself.” 

Mingyu opens his mouth to protest and you shush him, shaking your head. He stares at you for a moment, not used to anyone taking care of him when he stays late at the office, and he feels his heart warm slightly. He lets out a sigh, before giving you a smile and nodding his head. He leans forward and presses a kiss to your forehead, “Just let me pack up, okay? I’ll be out in a sec.” 

You walk out of his office and wait by the door for a few minutes, just scrolling through your phone when Mingyu finally walks out. He reaches out for your hand and you intertwine your fingers with his, and the two of you talk about your day as you head to his car. 

“Eunwoo choked on tteokbokki?” You ask, and Mingyu laughs at the memory of Eunwoo choking in his office. He starts the car and backs out of his parking spot, and begins driving out of the parking garage. “He absolutely did. I wish I got it on video.” 

You giggle at the thought of the pretty man turning red in the face and choking on the small rice cake. Mingyu smiles at the sound, finding it to be one of your best qualities. The two of you drive in relative silence the rest of the way to his place, as Mingyu’s sleepy, and you’re also tired. 

When you both finally arrive, you step out of his car and walk into his house. Mingyu makes a beeline for his room, taking off his dress shirt and belly flopping onto his bed. You laugh at his antics, sitting on the edge of his bed and slapping his back. “Go and change into your pajamas at least.” 

“Can you do it for me?” Mingyu asks teasingly, lifting up his head to glance at your reaction. He wiggles his eyebrows at you, and you glare, reaching out and slapping his back. He lets out a whine, before getting up from his bed and walking over to his closet. 

He comes back after a moment, changed into fluffy pajama pants and an old t-shirt. He throws one of his t-shirts at you for you to change into and you chuckle. He climbs back into bed and looks at you with a confused expression, wondering why you haven’t changed.

“I’m not staying the night Gyu.” You mutter, pushing back the strands of hair that are falling into his eyes. He frowns, “Yes you are.”

“No I’m not.”

“Yes you are.” 

“Mingyu, I have a meeting at work in the morning.” 

“And I’ll drive you there.” Mingyu offers and you giggle, shaking your head at him. He whines, making a grabby hand towards you, and you bite the inside of your cheek. 

Mingyu has come to realize that he sleeps a lot better when he’s holding you after the first time you let him spend the night a couple weeks ago. He realizes he shouldn’t have let himself get so attached to you, but he just wants one more night. One more night with you. 

“Please?” Mingyu asks in a softer voice, and you sigh. You nod your head, grabbing the shirt and walking into his bathroom to change, before waddling back over to the bed and climbing in. It’s like second nature to you and Mingyu when you both go into your cuddling position. With you draping your arm and leg over him, and Mingyu wrapping his arm and leg around you. He rubs your back, and you slowly find yourself falling asleep.

“Don’t forget that you promised to drive me to my meeting tomorrow.” You mumble before you fall asleep, and Mingyu nods his head. 

Mingyu watches as your breathing evens out, and he knows that you’re asleep. He stares at you for a moment, finding that you look so pure when you sleep. There’s no frown to your forehead, no tiredness to your eyes, you’re just at peace. He presses a kiss to your forehead, before letting out a sad smile. 

“I’m sorry, yn.”

“You hear that your boyfriend is releasing a game tomorrow night?” Chan asks as the two of you walk back to your office from the meeting on how far along your guys’ game development is going. You giggle at the term, and nod your head, feeling a sense of pride at the sleepless nights Mingyu has spent on working on the release of his game. 

“Yeah, he’s been working hard on the last minute touches. I had to drag him out of his office at like, one am last night. I plan to surprise him after his launch party.” You tell Chan as you enter your office. You sit down in your seat, placing your notes down by your keyboard, and Chan takes off his blazer and hangs it on the back of the chair before sitting down. 

“Has he told you anything about the game?” Chan asks, and you shake your head with a smile. “I told him I wanted him to surprise me, so I don’t know anything about it other than the little pieces of info I got from Eunwoo at the gala a few months ago.” 

Chan nods his head, letting out a grin at the happiness radiating from you as you login to your computer. Chan chuckles, “Who would’ve thought that by you going to the gala to get intel on the enemy, you ended up falling for the man?” 

You smile, shrugging your shoulders in response. You mutter how life works in mysterious ways, and Chan agrees wholeheartedly based on how life has turned out for you.

Everything is going great so far. The development of your new game is on its last stages, and you’re so happy seeing your characters come to life on the screen from what your employees have shown you. It’s one of your best works yet.

And you’re finally dating after years of just dedicating all your time into work. Chan hasn’t seen you so happy before, and he’s so glad to see you glowing. So Chan reaches over and rests his hand over yours, giving it a small pat, and you let out a smile. 

“I’m proud of you, yn.” Your eyes fill with fondness as you stare at your best friend who has been with you since the very beginning, and you feel your heart swell with love. “Thank you Chan, I love you.”

Eunwoo and Mingyu eat silently as they look over the game character designs and the gameplay. Mingyu can’t help but feel a sense of guilt as he stares at them, and he mentally slaps himself for feeling that way. Eunwoo glances at him, taking in the furrow between Mingyu’s eyebrows, and he lets out a sigh. Mingyu turns to look at him, “What?”

“If you feel guilty, then why did you suggest to even do this?” Eunwoo asks, and Mingyu scoffs. “I don’t feel guilty.”

Eunwoo rolls his eyes, reaching out and poking the prominent furrow that’s been hanging out between Mingyu’s eyebrows the whole day they’ve been working. The game release is tomorrow night, and they’re still here at the office working. Mingyu whines, rubbing the area that Eunwoo poked, and Eunwoo lets out a grin. “Lying is for sinners.”

Mingyu lets out a cocky grin, eyes turning red for emphasis, “Good thing I’m not a virtue.” 

Eunwoo lets out a tired sigh, pushing Mingyu’s face away, causing the sin to let out a laugh at his friend’s antics. Eunwoo is the only one who knows of Mingyu’s true form, it was an accident honestly. 

“I’m so sick of this fake love! Fake love! Fake love!” Eunwoo raises an eyebrow at the sound of Mingyu’s singing, and he steps into his friend’s room to see the tall man dancing in front of his mirror. His eyes are glowing a bright red rather than the deep brown he’s known him for. Mingyu pauses, slowly turning the sound down on his phone when he locks eyes with Eunwoo, and he turns his eyes back to brown.

“Eunwoo, let me explain-” 

Eunwoo passes out onto the floor.

Mingyu’s just lucky that Eunwoo’s his best friend and didn’t have any plans on outing him for being one of the seven deadly sins. However, he’s both blessed and cursed on the fact that Eunwoo can read him better than an open book. 

“You love her, don’t you?” Eunwoo watches as Mingyu turns rigid, and he tilts his head at him. Mingyu turns back towards the screen, choosing to ignore the way his heart throbs at the thought of you and him slow dancing in the kitchen the other night. Eunwoo decides to press him a bit more, “Gyu?” 

“I’m the Sin of Envy, there’s no such thing as love for me.” Mingyu mutters, making himself look like he’s staring intently at the gameplay on the screen. Eunwoo runs a hand through his hair, taking a sip of his water. “But you love her.” 

Mingyu bites his lip, choosing to stay quiet as his response. The silence is everything Eunwoo needed to know, and so he leans back into his seat and stares at Mingyu a bit longer. Mingyu turns to glance at him after a moment of silence, and he sees the judgmental expression on his best friend’s face. “What?”

Eunwoo just shakes his head, glancing over at the journal full of notes about the game before saying, “You could live a hundred lifetimes, and never deserve that girl.” 

Mingyu turns back towards the game, seeing the characters come to life on the screen, and he bites the inside of his cheek. He nods his head slowly, knowing what he’s going to lose as he quietly mutters, “I know.” 

Mingyu takes a sip of water as he looks at himself in the mirror, deciding that he looks good. He glances down at his phone when he hears a ding, letting out a smile when he sees your text on the screen.

yn: good luck !! i’m so proud of you, can’t wait to beat you at the game stinky >:D

Mingyu looks back up when he hears that it’s almost time for the game to launch, and he stands up from the seat. He turns around to see Eunwoo standing there, and he tries to ignore the disappointed expression on his best friend’s face. 

“You know you can still stop this, right?” Eunwoo insists, and Mingyu shakes his head at his friend. He bites the inside of his cheek, ignoring the feeling of guilt that’s building up in his conscience. He finds that emotion annoying, guilt. He’s the Sin of Envy, how is he able to feel that?

“Because you fell in love.” Eunwoo states. Mingyu’s eyes widen, turning to Eunwoo and wondering how he could hear his thoughts, who briefly explains that Mingyu said it out loud. 

“You can stop this, Mingyu. You’re going to ruin something you’ve been blessed with. Just listen to me-” Mingyu raises his hand up at Eunwoo, stopping him from speaking. Eunwoo lets out a tired sigh, and Mingyu gives him a smile.

“Let’s go celebrate our game launch.” Mingyu says, and walks out of the room. Eunwoo bites the inside of his cheek, before following after his friend.

While you hangout with Chan at his house, staring at the TV that displays OGN. They’re about to announce Ainsoft’s game launch and show the commercial for it as well. You let out an excited smile, seeing that Chan is staring at the TV expectantly. 

“Oh! It’s 8:00!” You exclaim, and right as you say that, you see Mingyu’s pre-recorded announcement of the launch of the game. “He looks so handsome…”

“Okay we get it, you have a boyfriend.” Chan jokes, and you let out a laugh. You watch as Mingyu gestures to the large screen beside him on the TV, and it zooms into it as the commercial begins to play. 

Your smile slowly drops from your face when the main character shows up on the screen, and Chan squints at the TV. “Wait a minute.”

You raise a hand to your mouth when the other characters start coming in, hearing the voice in the back of the video explaining the gameplay and the adventure the characters have to go on. You stand up from the couch with shaking knees, and Chan looks over at you. 

This is your game. This is your creation. This is the game you’ve spent months working on. 

It’s gone. 

All of it is gone. 

“Wait, yn-” Chan begins as you grab your car keys from the table. You walk towards the door, ignoring Chan’s calls as you hurry to get to your car. “Yn, you’re not in the right frame of mind to drive.” 

You feel Chan grasp your arm and you shake it off, pointing at him with a shaking hand. The anger that Chan feels is not even close to the betrayal you must be feeling as he notices there’s no trace of happiness to you anymore. “Let me go.” 

So Chan lets go, and you step out of his house. You quickly walk to your car, pushing back the tears so that you can be able to see as you drive. Millions of thoughts flow through your head as you back out of Chan’s driveway and speed down the street towards Mingyu’s house. 

Was that his agenda all along? When did he get the info on your whole game? Is that why he spent so much time with you? 

You bite your lip when you think,  

Did he ever even love you?

“Great job on the game guys, it’ll be a big hit.” Mingyu tells his employees over by the glasses of champagne. They all smile and tell them their thanks, and he waves his hand at them, saying that this wouldn’t have happened without their help. 

Eunwoo stares from across the room, drinking the sweet champagne that he knows you enjoy so much. However, it just tastes bitter once it goes down, reminding him of the sin he’s committed as he watches Mingyu act like everything’s fine. 

He stands up straight when he hears the front door open behind him over the chatter, turning around to see you walking in. Eunwoo’s eyes widen, and he reaches out to stop you but you push his hand away. “Don’t fucking touch me.” 

You walk over to the glasses of champagne, and grab one. Mingyu’s employees stare with wide eyes when they take notice of you, wondering what you’re even doing at their launch party. Mingyu raises an eyebrow at their sudden silence, and he turns in the direction that they’re staring in, only to get a face full of champagne. 

“What the fuck?” Mingyu growls, wiping his eyes so that he can see who did it. Only for his heart to drop when he locks eyes with you. You’re standing there, eyes full of rage as you stare at the man that you love, the one who betrayed you.

“Yn.” Mingyu breathes out, and you bite the inside of your cheek. 

“You fucking BITCH!” You scream, slapping Mingyu across the face, and the whole room turns silent at your outburst. You reach out to start shoving him, but he grasps your wrists to stop you. Mingyu glances around at his employees, and he gestures for them to leave, to which they slowly do. Once the living room is empty except for Eunwoo, he finally lets go of your arms, and you shove him away.

“You stole my game. You stole my fucking work!” You yell, and Mingyu just stands before you, face void of any emotion as he lets you scream at him. You tightly squeeze the glass between your hand, and Mingyu’s eyes widen when the glass shatters within your grasp. He tries to reach out to remove it from your hand but you step back, the blood from the wound dripping down your wrist as you stare at him.

“Was this your plan from the beginning? Since the gala?” You ask, and Mingyu stares. You bite the inside of your cheek, reaching out to grab another glass, but Mingyu steps forward and blocks your view of the table so that you can’t grab it. You throw the remainder of the broken champagne glass in your hand towards the floor, hearing it shatter into thousands of tiny pieces. 

“Answer me!” You shout, and Mingyu slowly nods his head. You stare down at the floor, and you feel nothing but betrayal running through your veins. You look back up into his eyes, and you wonder how you allowed yourself to be so naive. 

“So you just used me.” You mutter, and Mingyu just stares as he watches you break right before him. His hand twitches at his side as he holds back from falling onto his knees to beg for forgiveness, because this was all his fault. 

“How did you even do that? How did you even find out about my characters? The plot-” You pause when you remember the nights he spent at your house, the days he’d surprise you at your office to go get lunch. They were all just a ploy to get more information. You let out a pained laugh when you realize he must’ve gone through your stuff when you were asleep, while you were thinking he was holding you at night.

how pathetic.

You open the palm of your hand, staring at the tiny pieces of broken glass that have edged themselves into your skin. The blood continues to trickle down, and you know that you’ll have to get stitches, but for some reason, you can’t feel any pain. 

Mingyu takes a step forward when he sees the severity of your wound, “Yn, let’s go to the hospital so you can get stitches-”

You push him away, pointing directly at him with your other hand. You press the area where his heart is with your finger, and you bite your bottom lip harshly when you feel it beat beneath your finger. The familiar pattern is something you’ve gotten used to from the times the two of you have cuddled.

“You made me trust you, fall in love with you, just so you could steal my game? My work? Just to get on top? Just to be above me? Were you that envious of me?” You ask, and Eunwoo glances down at his feet when he hears how fragile your voice has become. Mingyu just stares at you, and he feels his heart break within his chest when he notices the glassiness to your eyes. He no longer sees anger or rage, he can only see the pain and betrayal in your gaze. 

There’s no trace of all the stars that he once saw.

“Did you even,” Your voice cracks, and you don’t realize the tears have formed in your eyes until you can only see Mingyu as a blurry blob. You blink, and Mingyu watches as the first tear escapes from your left eye, and falls onto the floor. “Did you even love me?” 

Mingyu stares at you in silence, the answer on the tip of his tongue as you look up at him with tears silently falling from your eyes. He looks down at the floor instead, breaking eye contact with you, and you have your answer. You let out a pained laugh, taking a step back as you stare at the man you love. 

The one who betrayed you.

The one who broke you. 

The one who lied. 

“Fuck you, Kim Mingyu.” You state, before turning away and walking out of his house. The sound of the door slamming echoes through the home, and that’s when the tears finally fall from Mingyu’s eyes. He watches as they fall to the floor, mixing with your blood. 

Eunwoo leans against the wall, and he runs a hand through his hair as he watches Mingyu just stare at the floor in silence. He stands up at his full height, and he claps his hands. Mingyu glances up at the sound, finding Eunwoo just standing there, applauding him. 

“Well. Was it worth it, Sin of Envy?” Eunwoo asks, pulling out his phone and turning the screen around to show that Ainsoft is now above Bloom in the market. Mingyu watches as the numbers keep rising, and he just stares at it.

A few months ago, Mingyu would’ve been ecstatic to see that he was above you. The craving to beat you and earn your spot would’ve been fulfilled.

But now, all Mingyu feels is pain. 

And so he smiles at Eunwoo, and his friend takes notice of the tears falling from Mingyu’s eyes as he responds, 

“No. No it wasn’t.”

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[princesssarisa]

A defense of the ending of “Wuthering Heights"

@astrangechoiceoffavourites, @theheightsthatwuthered, @wuthering-valleys, @heightsandmoors, @incorrectwutheringheightsquotes

 I’ve been reading other people’s opinions on Wuthering Heights this past year, I’ve noticed a small recurring theme.

It’s the idea that the ending feels out of place; tacked on; anti-climactic; too tame compared to the rest of the book. That it feels wrong for Heathcliff to simply lose interest in his revenge and then lose the will to live, or for the surviving characters to have any kind of happy or hopeful ending after so much brutality.

One book I read excerpts from on Google Books (I don’t remember the title or the author) suggested that maybe Emily Brontë originally wrote a very different, more brutal and Gothic ending, now lost. The author proposed that the final ending was probably the result of Anne and/or Charlotte urging Emily to tone down the book’s “immorality.” Of course this is pure conjecture. This same author also speculated that in the novel’s first draft, Heathcliff was explicitly Mr. Earnshaw’s illegitimate son, but that Anne and/or Charlotte persuaded Emily to change it. I’m not at all convinced by that theory, since @astrangechoiceoffavourites has argued very eloquently that to make Heathcliff and Cathy’s love forbidden because of the incest taboo rather than because of social class and race would go against the plot’s main themes and make nonsense of Heathcliff’s revenge on the Lintons and Earnshaws.

Still, this theorist isn’t the only person to think the ending (and possibly the whole second generation storyline) feels like the work of a different author than the rest of the book. Just recently I read a comment on Facebook arguing that a more cohesive, consistent Wuthering Heights would have had “a much darker and more explosive ending.” I assume a similar mindset is why some theorize that Branwell wrote the novel’s first half and Emily wrote the second. (I think I hate that theory even more than I hate the theory that Branwell wrote it all – “He didn’t write the whole book, but he did write the part everyone likes best.”) And if we compare the various adaptations’ endings to the ending of the book, there’s definitely a trend of giving Heathcliff a more brutal death.

I understand all of this. The ending of the book is ironic. Heathcliff himself knows it’s ironic: “It is a poor conclusion, is it not?” he asks Nelly, “an absurd termination to my violent exertions?” We don’t expect a towering, terrifying yet fascinating Byronic anti-hero like Heathcliff to become apathetic and ineffectual in the end and then die quietly (albeit mysteriously and eerily) in bed. We’d sooner expect him to freeze to death chasing Cathy’s ghost through a blizzard, or to be shot by his worst enemy, or to be lured by Cathy’s ghost to commit suicide by gunshot.

But I know I’m not the only person who thinks the entire book is fully cohesive and who sees nothing wrong with the ending whatsoever.

As far as I’m concerned, Heathcliff’s “absurd” end is more interesting than anything “darker and more explosive” would have been, precisely because it’s unexpected and yet makes perfect sense. Revenge never makes Heathcliff truly happy or brings him peace of mind: we know that all along. It might distract him from his pain, but it can’t cure it. While initially surprising, in hindsight it’s not surprising at all that, with no out-of-character repentance or remorse, he eventually loses the will to seek any more revenge. At heart it was never what he really wanted most; his real greatest desire is and always has been to be with Cathy.

Then there’s the strongest factor in his loss of his will for revenge: his grudging empathy for Hareton. Again, as far as I’m concerned, this is fascinating irony. Heathcliff has purposefully set out to shape Hareton into a copy of himself. Ultimately, that scheme “goes horribly right,” because he sees too much of his younger self in Hareton to hate him as much as he wants to, or to have the will to separate him from Cathy II the way he himself was separated from Cathy I. Then there’s Hareton’s resemblance to his aunt, Cathy I; even though Heathcliff’s passion for Cathy has been the motive for all his revenge on the two families that separated them, in the end it’s what makes him unable to ruin the lives of her lookalike nephew and her daughter, even though they’re also the children of the two men most responsible for taking Cathy from him. Again, it works because it’s handled delicately and without sentimentality. He still shows no remorse or regret for his past actions, and never shows any real kindness or fondness to Hareton or Cathy II, but despises the conflicted feelings they stir in him. But the fact remains that, despite all his efforts to be a monster over the years, he’s still a human being, capable of some empathy for people in whom he sees aspects of himself and of his beloved Cathy. I think it’s fascinating that this humanity, and not his monstrous actions, is what undoes him in the end.

Also, as some critics have pointed out, the very fact that Heathcliff receives no punishment for his sins (apart from his inner torment) makes the ending subversive by Victorian standards. If he had died a brutal death, it could easily have been viewed as his comeuppance, demonstrating God’s justice. From a moral and religious perspective, it might be all the more disturbing that instead he gets to die as close to a peaceful death as his character allows, with a devilish smile on his face.

Moving beyond Heathcliff’s death, I don’t see anything wrong with Hareton and Cathy II′s ending either.

First of all, it isn’t necessarily a straightforward happy ending. It’s definitely bittersweet if we have any sympathy for Heathcliff, and not just because he dies. This penniless, abused, disdained orphan of color defied the classism and racism of his society by clawing his way to wealth and status and by bringing down the two families who once oppressed him, but in the end, it’s all for nothing. Wuthering Heights and Thrushcross Grange go back to the Earnshaw and Linton heirs and the only trace left of Heathcliff is a single name and death date on a tombstone. He’s just as much of a “nobody” in death as he was as a homeless child. Of course it’s tempting to cheer for this fact because of his cruelty and because Cathy II and Hareton are sympathetic, basically innocent young people whom he unfairly punished for their parents’ sins. But in a way at least, especially in Marxist readings of the book (which I don’t fully agree with but do see validity in), the ending can be viewed as the triumph of the classist and racist status quo.

Nor, as some critics have argued, is it guaranteed that Cathy II and Hareton will live happily ever after. First of all, the fact remains that Hareton loved and loyally served Heathcliff to the end, and to please Hareton, Cathy had to stop speaking out against Heathcliff even though he had horribly abused her. There’s also the fact that Hareton once hit Cathy himself; only once, and before they were even friends, let alone lovers, but in the real world it rarely bodes well for a woman to marry a man who once slapped her. A few critics have wondered if Hareton is really permanently “tamed” in the end, or will eventually revert to the roughness Heathcliff bred in him and abuse his new power and status the same way Heathcliff did. On the flip side, there’s the fact that apart from her conceding not to criticize Heathcliff, Cathy seems to rule over Hareton almost as much as her mother did over Heathcliff when they were children. She educates him, he craves her esteem and does her bidding, and in his lessons she meets his mistakes and inattention (however playfully) with “smart slaps” and threats of hair-pulling. Some critics have wondered if we should view these as red flags; if Cathy II is destined to be an emotional abuser like her mother was.

But even if you don’t subscribe to those darker interpretations of the ending... even if you view Cathy and Hareton as fundamentally good people who genuinely grow and change for the better, find a healthy balance between the worlds of Thrushcross Grange and Wuthering Heights, and will be truly happy together... well, what’s wrong with that?

Is it really so impossible to believe that sometimes the cycle of abuse can be broken, or so “out of place” to show it being broken at the end of a book that shows its horrors? Is it just naïve delusion to hope that, with effort, children can avoid repeating their parents’ mistakes and opposing social structures like the Heights and the Grange can be reconciled? That at least one young couple might manage to combine the good aspects of both worlds while discarding the bad, rather than combining the worst of both worlds the way Heathcliff did? Just because the book is dark as a whole, do we really need to be so cynical when reading it that we can’t allow it to end on a note of hope?

Besides, I’ve written before about the mirror-image character arcs of the two Cathys. Cathy I is born and raised at Wuthering Heights, but eventually leaves it for Thrushcross Grange when she marries the latter household’s heir; she initially loves the rugged dark-haired Heathcliff and wanders the moors with him, but then gains snobbery, treats Heathcliff with increasing disdain, and shifts her attentions to the prissy blond-haired Edgar, whom she marries; as a result, her life ends in misery. Cathy II is born and raised at Thushcross Grange, but eventually she leaves it for Wuthering Heights when she marries the latter household’s heir; she initially loves the prissy blond-haired Linton, whom she marries, and treats the rugged dark-haired Hareton with disdain, but eventually she loses her snobbery, learns to love Hareton, and wanders the moors with him. In no way is Cathy II’s positive ending “tacked on” – her entire character arc is structured to be the opposite of her mother’s tragedy.

I understand why some people don’t care for the ending and think it feels anti-climactic or out of place. But as far as I’m concerned, it’s a thoroughly effective ending and fully consistent with what came before.

[winterswrandomness]

"...but both impulse and tango picking up knitting/crocheting (whichever is more historically accurate), despite it being unexpected of a boy to pick up, just to make handmade things for zed!!"

So let's talk knitting and crochet!! @thezitteam has a royalty au and I have stuff to say about the history of knitting and crochet after some brief research as well as with some prior knowledge, and I think it'll just be easier for me to be able to save drafts just in case since I may lose it if I forget and close the app while typing

-----

So! Knitting and crochet actually date back father than you may expect, with seemingly handmade garments resembling current works of knit or crocheted pieces! Actual evidence, as in a proper written form of the word crochet, goes back perhaps as far as the 18th or 19th century, and knitting even farther back to as early as, potentially, the 11th century.

And to further add on, these seem to have been viewed different than they are today, which is natural in history. While potentially a more popular activity among women, men also participated in these crafts since the need for textiles and protection against the elements was still pretty strong. So, technically, anyone could do it! In fact, in the Scottish Isles in the 17th and 18th centuries, it involved entire families at times.

But this is all to say, knitting and crochet have both been around for a while, and predecessors to both have been around even before documentation (such as nålebinding, which has a garment found to be from around 6500 BC, with another circa 4200 BC). In terms of historical accuracy, it really depends on the rough year the AU is set in or based around.

If it's based around the 1200's to 1900's, knitting has been recorded as work done by hired people in the late-ish 1100's to 1200's, a potential Shepard's activity around 1400's (however probably still commonplace among refined society), and probably a sort of house wive's activity throughout the 1700's to late 1800's, and begins dying down as you go through the late 1900's. And, during the 1800's to 1900's, crochet can be thrown into there as a possibility with wooden or bamboo hooks, and probably even earlier, but those are the times it seems a lot of extant garments were dated back to in terms of crochet.

Of course, there are also other crafts, such as sewing, which was also quite commonplace and hand stitched (asides from the use of handcranked sewing machines around the early 1900's, which can be used as an alternative to stitching by hand), and can likely be done by anyone even if it was still mostly done by women from the construction to the mending and tailoring. However, it is a possibility in about the 1800's to 1900's that men would also fashion their own clothing, though would probably still leave the mending to the women of the household, if I am remembering correctly.

But, I'd say, if Zera had sheep or a trade with another kingdom to get things like wool or yarn, or even their own sheep pen and some sort of spin wheel to make wool usable, then either one seems like a pretty good bet since they would have those resources!

[spectralhero]

Had a thought

Now listen, I am still deep in the Aria/femshep hole sooo...forgive me lol.

Also this is rough as shit and all over the place but I am a brainstormer and not a writer. I am constantly stuck in the brainstorming/rough draft stage of writing sooo...fml.

Anyways!

So with Shepard’s cybernetics and nanites and shit she lives a lot longer than normal humans. Though after she survives Reaper War, they used new cyber tech and nanites to save her life again. So her life expectancy increases even more. Point is: She lives waaaay longer. Like almost Asari lifespan. 

Now! 

I said this is Aria/femshep and this is roughly thought out so plot holes galore.

Aria and Shepard start a thing during ME2. They actually get close but this being Aria, she has no idea how to deal with this development because the Queen is cold and ruthless and she lost her daughter and just...she avoids emotions like crazy because she does not want to deal with loss again.

Anyways, long story short, in ME3 her feelings only grow stronger for Shepard. The Reaper threat puts a lot of things in perspective. The reality of losing Shepard to the war nags at her like crazy even though she tries to suppress it as much as possible. Also, they haven’t admitted their feelings but during melds she can feel it from Shepard but she keeps her feelings guarded from her. Which is easy since she is powerful as fuck.

At some point before the assault on TIM’s station, Aria and Shepard get together again and Aria makes the choice to get pregnant. She doesn’t want to even think about losing Shepard but in case the worst happens, there will something left of her that aint just about her being a hero.

So in the end, Shepard survives and all that, thankfully, but her recovery is a long one. Eventually she arrives on Omega to finally reunite with Aria but the Queen, having feared the worst, grieved in her own way. Thinking that she fucked up once again to fall for someone and then lose them. The one thing she swore to herself to never allow again! 

Then Shepard shows up and she just keeps those walls fully around her. And like, she is pregnant and now Shepard is there and how in the fuck is she going to tell her that?

Okay this is already getting too long so imma jump a bit (yay holes in the whatever this is).

Somehow Aria decided to keep Shepard at a distance, like it had all been just stress relief and all that nonsense, which just pretty much rips into Shepard’s heart, ya know? Anyways, so, they separate and it is hard for Aria to see Shepard walk out of her life but as far as she is concerned, it is for the best. She already had a daughter, knew how to raise a child as a single parent.

So that is what happens. I said that Shepard will live a long ass time so a few decades later she somehow finds her way back to Aria for some Specter business. 

Now first lemme say something about the kiddo. She looks like a very young Aria. The only thing visibly different, is the eye color, which is Shepard’s. As she went into her maiden stage, the kid went through commando training, following in her mom’s footsteps. 

So this is how Shepard first meets their kid even though she doesn’t know it is hers. Since the resemblance to Aria is striking, she immediately knows that this kid belongs to the Queen. Maybe they met when Shepard went on a mission and came across the Princess of Omega’s commando squad and assisted them. 

Of course the eye color should be a hint, but Shepard is still a little overwhelmed and distracted by the idea of Aria actually having a kid.

Anyways, so eventually Shepard finds out this is his kid, which absolutely pisses her off. No anger directed at the young asari, but at Aria for keeping this from her for decades, perhaps even a century. 

Shepard loves her kid a lot and whether Aria approves or not, she will form a bond between her and her kid. So Shepard is the best dad ever and spends time with the youngster whenever possible between Specter duty and her Commando duties.

Omg I am just picturing Shepard and the Princess teaming up in the Armax Arsenal Arena and kicking ass. Setting up huge ass scores. Aria observes from the observation deck for VIPs. Her heart aching because she knows she messed up and seeing father and daughter together warms that cold af heart of hers. Even she can’t deny she messed up.Would she admit it? Hmm...no lol.

Anyways, since I am a slut for angst with happy endings, they will get together and have another kiddo..or two.*shrugs.* Because lets be honest here, Shepard is quite pissed that she missed all those milestones her kiddo reached.

ALSO!! Thinking about their daughter getting a tattoo in honor of her sister that got murdered.

Soo....yeah. *gestures at this mess* I know...what the fuck is even happening. Sorry my ass can only concentrate for so long before I get distracted and I type like a fuckin moron. Hopefully this made sense somewhat lmao.

I just had to type before I forget.

[pikkington]

Finally getting around to posting some of my drafts.  This one is kinda old and has some wrong info, but I really don’t feel like going back and editing it.

That post about self-indulgent stuff inspired me, let’s go.

So apparently anything set in alternate universe futures immediately activates the ‘it need robots’ part of my brain, even if it’s ‘20 minutes into the future’ dystopian futures that still use CRT televisions.  Look, if they can have AI, they can have robots.

So in this AU/thought exercise, Network 23 commissions a CPU-less robot so Max can interact with stars on TV in real time, rather than just with the broadcast, and it’s designed so he can upload his AI into it at will.  Problems arise as he wants it to look like himself, and since most of his body image are holdovers from Edison...Network 23 inadvertently commissions a 6′3 robot that, despite being composed of lightweight materials, weighs about 400 pounds.  It takes four people to move the thing close enough to a computer, and it’s all dumped on Edison’s team (technically it was dumped on Bryce but the poor boy couldn’t even get it out of the elevator).

Uploading goes a lot smoother, but a few quirks carry over, namely his audio idiosyncrasies.  Bryce is baffled because the stutter and repetition should be caused by a lack of dedicated processing power on the computer (and the robot’s AI has a dedicated process specifically for speech), but Max doesn’t really care.  Skipping animations don’t translate into physical tics, so it’s unclear if Max deliberately glitches his speech or it is just inherently something he does.

An outside observer who didn’t know he’s an AI-now-robot would just think he’s got a bad stutter and echolalia.

Another problem is that because Max is rendered shoulders-up and is typically always at eye-level, being in a TV, he has no idea how tall he actually is, so of course he’s absolutely thrown the moment he stands up.  Edison’s not super thrilled either because he’s used to being the tallest person in the room, and all of a sudden there’s someone who’s not only his same height, but meets his eyeline dead-on and does not break eye contact.

So of course they joke about how he’s going to borrow Edison’s clothes and vice versa, but Max tries on leather once and decides never to wear it again because it’s too rough for him.  He prefers silks and other smooth materials.  And of course, synthetics.

Oh and the first time he runs out of power is great, he effectively faceplants into Edison’s couch and spends the night there.  He wakes up groggy and miserable and loathing that no one told him sleep is a new requirement because he has a self-charging battery now, his back hurts from flopping over like that for eight hours, and he didn’t get to dream on top of it, so it’s just offline standby that comes without warning.  It did come with a warning, Max just ignored it.

Bryce is in charge of repair, because the skin is synthetic and resembles a human’s, and therefore tears like one, and Max doesn’t one hundred percent understand that he talks with his hands and since they are actually there now he can bang them against stuff.  He didn’t really care until he tore some tubing underneath and started gushing hydraulic fluid.  Bryce frets over him like a concerned mother, since his creation now has an actual body and is even more human than he was before.  Also imagine a shrimpy, skinny fifteen-year-old fussing over a 6′3 giant trying desperately not to scream because pain is worse than he remembers it holy CRAP as the only person who knows how to fix him flash-heats what’s essentially a vein shut because the tape didn’t work.  On the other hand Bryce also chants “chug chug chug!” when Max has to refuel since he did lose a ton of fluid, and that was a scene Theora never thought she’d ever see.

As far as a living situation, the executives are more than content to let Max charge every night in a closet somewhere in the building, but two events change this:

1.Max knows the ins and outs of the whole network, so he knows which floors are occupied when, who’s accessing the network where, AND he knows the admin passwords, so it’s incredibly easy for him to, say, run a never-ending loop of “What’s New Pussycat” with a “It’s Not Unusual” thrown in for good measure starting at 11 AM the next day over the intercoms.  The audio’s so loud that it can be heard during the local news.  Imagine trying to report with Tom Jones being heard in the background.  The network doesn’t have the music rights to his library.  They can’t prove it’s him, he’s never used a computer in his life.

2.He sneaks out to check out the city, since his view has always been restricted to interior rooms.  He makes it out to the Fringes before he’s stabbed in a mugging gone wrong (the mugger didn’t believe he didn’t have a wallet, he was wearing a suit, for goodness sake), and while he was okay, he was also close to a million dollars, so someone needs to supervise him.

That someone is Edison, because Murray has a wife and kids, Bryce’s is network-owned and too small for the both of them, and Theora doesn’t feel very comfortable with a male roommate.  I have more, but perhaps for another post.

[himbo-beel]

To Hell and Back  Again - Chapter 2

"Explain it again."

The dark haired man at the center of the table narrowed his eyes at Ami's demand and I flinched. His glower wasn't directed at me, but the intensity of his ire spread fast and wide throughout the room and I struggled not to fall under its weight. I wanted to grab Ami by the shoulders, to shake her and beg her not to make anything worse, but my feet were stuck to the floor. My knees shook and, if I could move, I wasn't sure I could even make it the few steps to her.

"You two are to be the two human students here at the Royal Academy of Diavolo. You will participate in classwork and extra-curricular activities for a period of one year, after which, you will be tasked with drafting a paper on your experiences and sent home."

Academy. One year. I wasn't immediately being attacked and my brain started to slow from its fight or flight panic to something just barely able to retain small words. Familar words. The connections were made, quickly, and I nearly lost control of myself again as realization settled heavy in my stomach. Or maybe it was insanity. Oddly enough, that was the only option that made sense and the irony of that nearly made me laugh.

This couldn't have been the educational program my manager had mentioned. It certainly wasn't any sort of vacation, either. I was just tired from work and after a few nights of restless sleep. I'd never had a history of hallucinations but that didn't mean they suddenly couldn't develop. Maybe my dinner had gone bad. Really bad.

I glanced at the people sitting at the table again and shrunk back at the pairs of eyes on me. The disdain on all of their faces looked so real. Dinner must have spoiled really, really bad.

"Any further questions," the one in the middle asked, though the way he sighed it made me think he wouldn't answer them.

I caught Ami open her mouth and I gave a sharp jerk of my head. I could only hope she saw me and the message got across. One more day alive was one more day I could figure out how to get us out of this situation. The cold, clammy feeling on the back of my neck made me think she hadn't, though.

"How about 'why are you scaring the newcomers so much', hm?"

The cold feeling turned freezing quickly, fast enough that all my muscles clenched against it and I could only stand in place while the suffocating pressure in the room increased tenfold. My locked knees became the only thing holding me up as another man, even taller and more imposing than the one in the middle of the table, strode into the room. He crossed to the table with ease, either unaware or uncaring of the dark haired man's glare, to stand besides him. The smile on his face didn't match the way he crossed his arms.

"I'm doing nothing of the sort, Lord Diavolo," he said, smoothing down the front of his jacket.

The taller one, Diavolo, hummed. I swallowed back a whimper when he turned to face us. "I'm sure you're still confused despite Lucifer's explanation, so I'll repeat it one more time. I, the future King of the Devildom, wish to see a better relationship between the three realms. To do that, I created this exchange program! Two of our students have been sent to the other realms while you have been chosen from the human world to attend R.A.D. along with two others from the Celestial Realm. As I'm sure you're aware, that means you'll be taking the classes and living in the dorms here."

"With angels?" The sound of my own voice startled me, both at the fact that I'd managed to say something at all, and that it had come out so small and rough. The feeble attempt made Diavolo smile.

"Yes. You'll be meeting them shortly."

"After we determine who will be overseeing your stay," Lucifer interrupted. The name fit him with his dark hair and eyes and glowering expression. "It is too dangerous for a mere human to wander the Devildom alone. One of my brothers will accompany you at all times." The reassurance from knowing there'd be angels nearby disappeared in an instant. "Mammon should do well enough."

"The Avatar of Greed," Diavolo chuckled. "What a choice."

Lucifer. Greed. If I wasn't insane already I was going to be. School in what was essentially Hell? Overseen by the Seven Sins? Because the straight up devil wanted to shake hands with humans? I was at a loss as to how to rationalize any of it. It almost made more sense to let everything simply keep happening.

Such as the phone call Ami was currently having. A phone call. In Hell. Devildom. Whatever.

I could only stare blankly as she handed the phone out for Diavolo to pass back to Lucifer and I barely jumped this time when Lucifer yelled something into the speaker. Were they talking to Mammon? The demon that was supposed to keep us safe? And the others…

None of them looked all to pleased to be there, let alone interested in us. A shorter blond was absorbed in a book while another on the other side of the table tapped away at something that… oddly resembled a gaming device. My eyes passed across the rest of them, my vision going blurry with each new brother, as Lucifer had called them. Behind the dark spots forming in front of my face I could just make out Lucifer point to each one and open his mouth, most likely to introduce them, but the rinigng in my ears was too loud to hear him. I swayed and didn't have the energy to flinch when a hand wrapped around my wrist to steady me. Something cold and solid was pressed into my palm and I lifted a brow at the phone left behind. I stared at it, blankly, as the rest of the conversation continued on around me as a distant hum.

I'd have to ask Ami what was going on after, I managed through the heavy fog in my brain as panic won out. No one seemed to mind, or care at least, as I rocked silently on my feet.

"Rotten bastard!"

The shout knocked me back to my senses and I jerked away from it, letting out a shout of my own as something tugged me back. I panicked and clawed at the hand still tight around my arm, whimpering as each finger replaced itself on my skin the moment I managed to pry it off.

"Stop, stop it," I heard after another minute of struggle, and I paused long enough at the familiar voice for Ami to cover her hand holding mine to keep me from trying to escape again.

We were walking. Outside. I lifted my face to the sky and tried to stay calm at the empty black above us. Behind, Lucifer and Diavolo followed us closely, and to the side… I moved closer to Ami, bumping my shoulder into hers. I couldn't feel her shaking against me and I wondred how she did it. She didn't look afraid and she hadn't sounded afraid when she questioned everything going on. And she wasn't afraid, now, surrounded by them.

"You can't run. We're going to the dorms," she said. She kept her hand tight on mine.

"-making me look after some stupid humans," the demon besides us continued to spit. "I'm only doing this babysitting job because Lucifer told me to. Not that I can't say no to him! I totally can!"

"Sure, sure," I heard Ami mutter under her breath, and it was the first time I felt the knot in my stomach unwind.

[one-leaf-grimoire]

I hEARD EXCERPTS FROM THE GREY DEER FIC HELLO HI

Okay I will show you the rough draft of the first chapter! I need to cut out some of the exposition but it should give you a good idea of the main character’s backstory and everything. Fun fact: I created this current Grey Deer squad from scratch so there ended up being 12-13 ready-made OCs for me lol.

Warning: alcohol use because I drank for the first time in weeks yesterday and was in that mood

The Clover Kingdom is known for its balmy summers, temperate falls, and forgiving winters. I just so happened to be born in the dead center of one of those winters, on the coldest, most unforgiving night of that year. It wasn't like that made a difference, though. My mother was warm and well-cared for within our large house, heated by mountains of blankets and a crackling fireplace. She was the daughter of a wealthy landlord, and my father was born into nobility. We had it about as good as it could get.

When I was five years old, my parents took me to visit the castle for the first time. I had no idea what was going on, but it was fun to dress up in a frilly dress and be doted on by servants. We met an important-looking man and his family, which included a boy maybe 4 or 5 years older than I am. He had dark hair slicked back into a little bun, and two cold grey eyes that I could never bring myself to look into very deeply.

"So, did you like Prince Lawrence?" my mother asked me on the way home, palpable excitement in her voice. I just nodded a little as I sucked on a lollipop my father gave me to keep me occupied. The truth was, I had said maybe 2 words to the boy before avoiding him the entire time. However, my mother was pleased. "Good! It's very important that the two of you get along."

I didn't know it at the time, but as far as nobles went, we were on thin ice. My mother's once-wealthy father went out of business shortly before his death, and my father's family told him he was a disgrace for marrying into an unstable financial situation. I don't blame them for choosing the one viable way out of their situation... even if that solution ended up being none other than little ol' me. 

What was the solution, you ask?

I was to marry into the Kira family.

Lawrence Kira was a distant cousin of the king, but he was close enough to royalty that it would have us set for life. Back then, I didn't really care. It was decided long before I started to care. I was supposed to marry him when I turned 18, but that plan was postponed when I let my friend Alice convince me to take the Magic Knights Exam. I didn't really know what to expect, but my magic is as potent as it gets, despite being a "cut-rate noble," as some people called us. Lucky for me, a few captains raised their hands, and I chose the one I knew was the best.

And so, seven years later, here I am, celebrating the coming of the new year with the Grey Deer.

"Hey, you, refill my mug, will'ya!?"

I quickly push away the empty mug that's shoved into my face. "Ah, no, I'm not your servant, Nigel," I tell the boy. "I'm older than you, anyway!"

Nigel sticks out his tongue but doesn't push the subject, mostly because he's barely conscious right now as it is. Everyone's been drinking all night, but Nigel obviously doesn't hold his beer so well.

"Aww, we got a little baby, don't we!" Two of the older knights, Margery and Wren, walk over to flank the boy, who looks between them a few times. "You're 20 aren't you? I could down 20 beers in a row when I was 16!" Margery cackles cruelly. She's a beautiful woman who's usually nicer than this, but tonight seems to be making her rowdy.

"Margery, be nice," I scold lightly, being careful not to sound impertinent. She's several ranks above me, after all. However, the liquid courage is going straight to my head. "Not everyone was an alcoholic at 16!"

Wren's bloodshot eyes widen while Margery's face contorts into an over-exaggerated expression of rage. "Are you trying to insult me?!" she screeches, grabbing the collar of my cloak. I know better than to resist as she pulls me so close that she practically spits on me. "Another word, and I'll shove a thousand pearls up your little-"

"Ooh, you're gonna fight?" a booming voice calls. We both look over to see none other than Captain Hervey himself addressing us from the head of the table, sipping wine from a goblet. He's a tall man with blonde hair that spirals up in three big spikes, and a goatee that he never stops toying with. He's got a rather boorish personality, and can be accidentally mean without realizing it. It's not his fault; he's just really good an unintentionally hurting people's feelings. "Everyone, the showdown is finally happening!"

A few people hoot and holler at the announcement. We're a squad of sixteen people, yet we make this room feel like it's thronged with a huge crowd. The Grey Deer are known for their efficiency and elegance in battle, but when we're drunk we resemble the Crimson Lion Kings very closely. Sixteen people, yet not everyone is here. My friend Alice is off on patrol by herself tonight and visiting her elderly mother, so she isn't here to join in with the festivities. So, we're fifteen members tonight...

Wait. There's only 14 people here. Who's missing, other than Alice?

"Are you even listening to me?!"

I'm shaken (literally) from my thoughts by Margery and snap back to attention. "I'm your senior, and I'll fight you right now to prove it!"

"Ah! Actually, I'd rather not!" I hold up my hands to plead with her. "I don't want to use my magic inside!"

Margery practically growls like a feral animal. "Then... let's go outside!"

"Are you crazy? It's snowing cats and dogs out there," Giles, a knight who's my age and joined at the same time as me, observes. Out of the trio of me, Alice, and Giles, he's usually the more logical one. "Just settle it some other time."

It's not worth pursuing any longer, so Margery finally lets me go. "You're on thin fucking ice-" she warns me before returning to her seat. I sigh and shake my head. She's not going to remember any of this tomorrow morning anyway.

Giles sighs and takes another bite of his food. There's more than usual tonight, since it's a rare holiday and all. "How much longer until midnight?"

"Another hour." Elia, my roommate, yawns a little, gazing over at me from across the table with tired eyes. "I don't think I'm going to last that long."

"You have to! It's New Years!" Nigel insists, giggling as if he just told us the funniest joke the world has ever heard (news flash: he has not done such a thing). "It's the only time of year we can slack off like this."

"Ooh, that reminds me..." I wince before looking back up at the head of the table. The seven senior knights and the captain reserve that section for themselves, then the intermediate knights like myself get the middle section. At the opposite end is the "kids area," for all the junior knights. We have four of them right now, two of them being brand new recruits. "Captain, do we have to work tomorrow?"

"Ah... I guess you have to." There's a loud groan from all parts of the table at this news, and Hervey slams his goblet on the table loudly. "BUT! You didn't let me finish!" he roars. "You don't have to get up until 10, how's that?!" He smirks to himself as we all agree, of course. 

"Hey... let's do a game..." Nigel slurs, resting his chin on his elbow. "I'm bored."

"Fine. What game?" Giles actually looks pretty excited for once, and catches the attention of me and Elia.

Nigel grins and straightens up, holding up his hand with all five fingers up. "Never have I ever... made eyes at Vice Captain Malota."

"Oh, ewww!" We look over to see Wren wrinkling his nose. "No offense, but she has a stick up her butt all the time." Malota is a little older, but she's still pretty, with long blonde hair and icy blue eyes. Her face is very angular like a vulture, but... a sexy vulture. But Wren is right; she's a very capable woman, but she has a weird personality.

"... you got me." Giles blushes behind his glasses and puts a finger down. Both Nigel and Wren giggle at him. "Stop it! I'm sure you're crushing on someone here!"

"Me? I would never stoop that low," Wren shoots back. "Okay, okay, I got one... never have I ever broken a bone!" 

Everyone whines at the question, because of course that's happened to everyone. Everyone but Wren, apparently. He gloats to himself as we're all forced to lower a finger. "Who's next?"

"I'll go!" Elia pipes up, which is a little surprising because she's never the one to put herself out there. "Never have I ever..." She grins evilly. "Had SEX."

"oh, EW!" All the boys chorus at once, going red in the face at the sheer audacity. It’s not a very fair question, since Elia is a proud virgin for some reason. "Of ALL the immature things you could have said!" Wren objects, but puts a finger down anyway (not gonna lie... I'm kind of surprised to hear that he isn't still a virgin at 25 years old). Elia just giggles and looks pointedly at the rest of us. Nigel shrugs and puts a finger down, Giles blushes and keeps his up, and I am forced to put one down, which throws Wren into outrage once again. "WHAT?! YOU? Y-You had, you did the-"

"Yes, obviously," I snap, wishing we could just get to the next question already. "What's the big deal?"

"Aren't you engaged?" Giles asks curiously.

"First of all, that's none of your business, second of all..." I cross my arms. "Yes, I'm engaged... who do you think I did it with, dummy?"

A collective "oh" moves through our group. "That makes sense, I guess..." Wren shakes his head and sticks his tongue out at me. "Whore!"

"Shut up."

"OI! I just realized something!" Our attentions are pulled back to the head of the table, where Hervey is scowling at the empty seat to his right. "Julius... he went out for air two hours ago and still hasn't come back!!"

"What, you think he died or something?" Wren asks, shaking his head. "He's probably just got tired of us."

"Unacceptable! It's almost midnight, and my new vice captain isn't even here!?" Hervey growls. "Someone go out and get him... YOU!" I jump with fear as he points a hairy finger right at me. "Go get him! Actually, lure him in with a warm drink! It can't be fun being out in the blizzard all alone!"

I want to ask why me, but when the captain tells you to do something, you do it.

ANd that’s all I have so far. If you have any thoughts please let me know. I know there’s a disturbing lack of Julius in this excerpt but he will appear in the full chapter once it’s finished :)