#then when I clicked on his picture the little “minor character” page showed up and the live action version of him isn't even on there

[jjba-smash-or-pass]

[stellamalonesolaria]

BTS Kim Taehyung X Reader X Jeon Jungkook FF | see through me | oneshot

pairing: model!kim taehyung x fangirl!reader. slight jungkook x reader. slight jimin x reader.

genre: obsessive love au, angst, age gap au

warning: minors dni as the post contains: violence, sexual violence, gore, foul language, drugs usage, nsfw: nipple play, masturbation, cock sucking.

word count:

11,419 words 62,280 characters

what was i listening to: click here

author's note: have not proofread, kindly ignore any sort of grammatical or spelling error in the story. hope you enjoy this fic.

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At the benevolent age of nine, when kids continue watching their favourite cartoons, you’re introduced to fashion magazines by your best friend Evie who has been dreaming of becoming a model before she could even learn how to walk and because of her you’ve been obsessed with dresses ever since.

At the age of ten, while you’re trying out the new clothes bought by your mom, who appears to have the exact opposite taste in fashion as you, you’re also scrolling through one of the newly released magazines. As you go through the pages covering the latest articles containing information about some of the finest designs in the world along with their creators, you stumble across, a young model, who looks like he’s in his late teens, absolutely captivating your attention with his beguiling style and looks. You glance at the far-end corner of the page, locating his name, as you read out loud ‘Kim Taehyung.’, a name that would be inscribed within your heart for life.

At the age of eleven, when the young model turns legal, you read a tabloid on your mother’s phone, stating how Kim Taehyung, the person you’ve started admiring, will start out his career as an aspiring actor. You read the comments on the web article praising him for his aspiring acting venture, some even thirsting over him due to his swoon worthy looks at such a vulnerable age. Some calling him their daddy, perplexing you with the fact that he’s a father of so many girls. A smile forming on your delicate features as you now fantasise him appearing on television now.

At the age of twelve, you’ve collected many pictures and photo cards of your beloved then-model now-actor Kim Taehyung. You have your first celebrity crush as your cheeks turn a scarlet shade of red whenever his scenes come up on the netflix show you binge watch with your mother in which he’s starring. Your parents think how adorable you’re with your little crush on the prominent figure in the entertainment industry right now.

At the age of thirteen, your best friend Evie confesses her crush on the aforementioned actor, you feel a pang of jealousy that day, realising that the feelings you harboured for the actor are more than a mere crush your parents like to title your adoration for him. You return home and decide to keep your love a secret from your parents and Evie, fearing they’d not understand if you did tell them.

At the age of fourteen, you’re exposed to the dark web, your other friend Jason introduced you to the site saying that he found hard core porn on here. At first, you were skeptical of dark web but with your growing infatuation with the actor and the multiple posters and collages of his cut out pictures on your wall, all the fan fictions on tumblr not being able to satisfy your increasing thirst for him, the urge to have him, you have had to resort to this mystic side of the internet now. You’ve found over a million shirtless pics of him on the dark web but you seemingly want more. As you surf through the illegal webpages, you find an ai generated porn site, which contains nude pictures of celebrities created by artificial intelligence. You now feel perverted as you shamelessly enter his name onto the search bar, as the site automatically and quickly generates your favourite’s naked photos. You feel yourself growing hot, your fingers sliding inside your panties as you masturbate by rubbing, slapping and inserting fingers inside your core. You curl your fingers inside your vagina while thinking of Taehyung, your walls perfectly grasping over your fingers. Oh how you wish, the fingers pleasuring your cunt were not yours but his instead.

At the age of fifteen, you’ve saved enough money to bid for Taehyung’s hair strand on an illegal auction site. You’re sold his hair strand at the cost of 10,000 dollars, exceeding your budget but you’d never back down when it comes to him, you’ve compulsively rewatched his shows and movies over a hundred times and even cursed out his female co stars on internet forums for establishing such a close relationship with him. You’ve also targeted the actresses he was being shipped with by sending them death threats so you’ve had to have his Dna with you, even if it’s through a hair strand, at any cost. You use your dad’s credit card to pay for the highest bid you entered, transaction going unbeknownst to him.

At the age of age of sixteen, your obsession dies down after being sued by the actresses for cyber bullying and your grades falling down. You’ve to momentarily stop fan girling over the charming actors to excel in school. As time goes on, you lose interest in Kim Taehyung, slowly letting go of your obsession and after a while, you’re being confessed to by a sweet boy, Jimin, whose feelings you start to reciprocate due to his compassionate and tender nature. His facial characteristics are remarkable as well, he could easily start out his idol career with his angel like voice gifted to him by almighty. You both start dating immediately after the confession, going on little dates where you doll up yourself by caking your face with makeup, adorning yourself with pearls accentuating your beauty, taking his breath away. Few weeks into the relationship, on the auspicious occasion of Christmas, you both share a sweet kiss under the mistletoe, your lips quivering due to the adoration jimin pours into passionately kissing you, gently moulding your soul with his, serenading your soft plump lips with his love filled pecks. Your relationship with him seems to be going well, however, a few months later, as your friend Evie gets her first modelling gig for a colossal fashion corporation and Jimin gets into coaching for bagging the top universities, his eyes set on Wharton, you also get busy with your studies, slowly drifting away from him, it hasn’t affected you much at first as you both called each other frequently. Gradually, those calls have also become infrequent, leading to you becoming distant from him, this ultimately resulting in frustration due to festering of unresolved skirmishes. You both started to hate each other with time due to improper communication problems in your relationship with him. Many weeks have passed by with you and him holding grudges against each other over every fight you both have had in the past. Now with your seventeenth birthday approaching, you’re planning to sort things out with him and be the reasonable one this time for the sake of your birthday. You plan to text him to meet you soon but you’re taken aback when he texts you first asking you to visit him in the evening. The following evening, you go meet him in the park, chirping because you’re happy he’s the initiating to resolve your conflicts with him and he does the exact opposite, contrary to what you’ve hoped for, he breaks up with you instead, you fall on to the ground, kneeling down, as those words leave his lips with no hesitation, you spiral into a melancholic state as tears pool near your eyes, silently wishing for the earth to rip into two halves and swallow you whole. This is like a dagger plunged through your heart, you let out a shriek, a painful whisper of the aching heart Jimin left you with, you watch him leave you in doldrum, you get up on your feet, trying to regain strength to walk back to your place, after you’re done crying for him in the park. Few days have passed since the heartbreaking separation from your beloved, which has still left you burning and ceasing into ashes as the pain is too much to endure.

Your friend Evie visits you during a short break from her modelling career, seeing you in a devastatingly pathetic state because of Jimin, she gasps, “Y/n babe who died?”, she asks concern evident in her tone, “Jimin broke up with me.”, you respond your voice croaking as a faint whisper, “Oh no honey, we need to revamp you. That piece of shit is not worth your cries, oh no honey, I’m here for you, I’m so sorry for being so late.”, she comforts you as she coos into your ears, her words feel like a lullaby because her voice starts to soothe you down and ease your aching heart, “Thank you Evie”, you say sincerely, “Always here for you baby, you know what’ll cheer you up? Love Marathon on Netflix!”, she chirps trying to distract you via a drama, in which, your once beloved star Taehyung acts in as the second lead, “Sure”, you give out a small smile to her as she sets up a laptop in front of you and plays the first episode of the drama. Few hours later, Evie has fallen asleep on your bed while you’re watching the show’s sixth episode in which Kim Taehyung’s character is trying to convince the female lead into choosing him instead over the main male character after a messy breakup with the male lead. You watch him attentively as he says, “I promise if you choose me I’ll treat you much better than he ever did, please-“, to which the female lead responds, “Eun suk-ah, I love the male lead and I think I always will, even if he has hurt me or broken my heart countless times, I don’t think I’d be able to ever get over him.”, Taehyung sighs as he hears her, “You know what, you love him but you deserve to be with someone who makes you feel loved as well and not just leave you because you’re going through a rough patch, you deserve someone who is willing to fight for you no matter what.”, he says as you feel his eyes directly staring into yours through the screen as though he’s directing these words towards you with sincerity glinting in his eyes, his words deeply resonating with you which feels like a warm embrace to your soul, you feel like he’s hugging you figuratively with the words that leave his mouth, still staring into your eyes via the screen, he continues, “don’t give up on love because of one bad experience, you’ve me, always did, come back to me, I’ll heal you, you deserve all the love there is in the world.”, your heart skips a beat, Kim Taehyung slowly enveloping your senses again, your tears dry up as you feel a jolt of excitement, you pause the show as you get up and search through your drawers to find his hair strand which you had bought a little while back from the dark web, you gently whisper to him through the screen, “I’m never giving up on you Taehyung. I deviated from my love for you for a while but I’m back on track baby. You’re the first person who has ever taken my breath away. You’ve completely taken over me.”, you say as you feel an intravenous thrill within you, slowly, reviving the feelings and rush your ten year old felt when you first looked at him.

At the age of seventeen, you’re hell bent on becoming worthy of Kim Taehyung, you have seen a path after so long, you’re determined to make him all yours one day and for that you’re now willing to go to any extent and your first step being making yourself perfect. You try to achieve academic excellence first while you graduate high school. You’ve decided to get into Harvard and for that you over exhaust and over work yourself. You don’t sleep, don’t breathe, don’t eat, don’t socialise or do anything, you completely and solely focus on studying economics and your extracurricular competitions to get into Harvard with three months to your graduation. You study 22 hours a day and the rest of the 2 hours you participate in debates, you barely sleep a wink on the weekends, your only motivation being him and that is more than sufficient for you. You have finished your syllabus worth of four years in two months, you’ve excelled and aced in all the extracurricular competitions and activities you participated in, it was hard but you’ve a long way to go to get him. You’ve completely cut off contact with Evie due to your hectic study schedule, Harvard being your goal. You’ve exams this month and you’ve to score full, not even one mark should be deducted so that you could graduate with honours. You revise well, studying for 23 hours and sleeping for one hour only everyday. You keep yourself hydrated so that you do not pass out after so much work. You appear for your exams, trying to not even have one mark deducted from the perfect score you keep on aiming for as if your life depends on it, and it does, Kim Taehyung has become the sole reason you breathe this damned oxygen. Time passes by as your result day approaches, on your result day, your score card is handed to you, you compulsively open the sheet only to be faced with brimming disappointment after you see five marks being cut off, crushing your aim of achieving full marks. You’re devastated, and you’re panicking, life is unpredictable and you need to be ready with a plan B if you ever in your life have to draft a plan to achieve something and you’ve learnt this the hard way after the break up with Jimin, hence you’ve a back up plan ready although your breath still shortens and you still are paranoid but there is a way to still be on track to your way to Harvard; a recommendation letter from your professor, facing only one challenge though, the professor seems to despise you for some reason. The following day, you go upto the professor’s cabin requesting for him to pen you down a recommendation letter but he profusely declines, you raise an eyebrow, of course he wouldn’t budge like that, one think you’ve learnt from your past mistakes is to never back down, always keep on scheming, like the one time, even at the expense of 10,000 dollars for Taehyung’s hair strand, you have had gone to hell and back to earn that and now that Taehyung is the one at stake, what would you not do to get him, you’ll give up your life to get him. You hike up your skirt revealing your milky thighs, willing to seduce the professor if that is what it takes to help you go to Harvard, you unbutton your top, your cleavage visible enough to make any man walking by grow hot. You move towards your professor, showing off your collarbones and cleavage, letting him get a sight of your pink lace panties, “Do reconsider Mister Walter”, you say in a seductive tone, beads of sweat form on his forehead. You unbuckle his belt and go onto suck his cock that springs out of his pants as you pull his pants down. An hour passes by, you come out of his office, correcting your white top and bra to hide the hickeys covering your breasts, you’ve had slept with the professor, losing your virginity to him. You look at the recommendation letter, a step closer to the man of your dreams. You plaster a smile on your face as you read the letter. You apply to Harvard with all the accumulated prizes, grades and now the recommendation letter, confident you will get in.

On the day of the announcement of college application results, your mom drives you to the public library to get a print out of the Harvard letter. She reviews the printout as it comes out. She falls to the ground as she reads the words on it, tears escaping her eyes, you think, she must’ve been crying tears of happiness but your face falls down as you read the email. Harvard has rejected your application. You scream in agony, you’re frustrated, you tear the paper and crush it under your feet. It cannot be possible right? Tears brim down your face as you laugh in disbelief, you mom gets up on her feet as she comes to hug you trying to console you, “It’s okay baby, you can apply to another college, not getting into Harvard doesn’t equate to the end of the world okay?”, she says. Yes, not getting into Harvard would not be the end of the world but not getting Taehyung would kill you. You look at her and say, “do you not have a building you can donate to have me get into Harvard”, she looks at you and then laughs, “If I did, I wouldn’t be working a desk job, honey, I know you worked hard for this but there’s more to life than this, plus, you’ve the will, will can move mountains.”, she says as you roll your eyes not believing her words, you haven’t given up yet, no you would not, you try to come up with back up plans to get into Harvard, maybe a drop year could help. You get into the car with your mother as she drives you back to your place. On the way you notice, that the usual road to your place is under construction so your mother pulls back and onto another lane, with a little effort, even though she has taken a different path, but it’ll guide you to the same destination. Suddenly you’ve an epiphany, there are other ways to get Taehyung, plus getting into Harvard would’ve been an easy way to have him and you like challenges, the harder it becomes to make him yours, the more you start to yearn him, strengthening your love for him. As if luck is on your side, suddenly a pamphlet flies on to the glass pane of your window, you lower down your shades to obtain it, the advertisement/poster reads, ‘CASTING AUDITION FOR A KDRAMA FEMALE CHARACTER’, your brain devising and unlocking another route for you to obtain Taehyung i.e. to get into the same acting industry as him. You review the details on the poster, it has provided you the information on the venue and the audition dates a week from now.

“I want to be an actress!”, you announce startling your parents, “What?”, you dad asks with a puzzled look on his face, “I want to go audition for the female character role in a kdrama”, you state as he still looks at you confused, you hand him the pamphlet, “Drive me there on Wednesday.”, your dad thinks you’ve lost your mind but relates it to you trying to cope with the rejection you faced from Harvard a while ago. He reluctantly agrees.

Wednesday has come,

you’re done hiking your skirt to a level where your underwear is blatantly visible to everyone, you cake your face with makeup, you straighten your hair and get your nails done. You’re all set for the casting audition. Your father has a disproving look on his face as he sees your attire but chooses not to say anything since you’ve turned the legal age. He drives you to your destination, it is an amphitheatre and there is a long queue with many girls who are dressed in a similar clothing as you, they’re wanting to chase after fame while you chase after Taehyung, you guys are pretty similar but with different wants and needs after all. Hours pass by, you keep on retouching your makeup, you mentally prepare yourself, trying to look luscious and confident. Your name is called after what feels like an eternity, you correct your hair and enter the casting room. As you enter the hall with the casting director seated behind the judgement panel, he looks at you and whispers something to the lady. She laughs a little looking you up and down while you choose to ignore the duo. They hand you the script and ask for you to read from it. You pour your passion and emotions to it, remembering why you got into acting in the first place. They look pretty impressed by your acting skills or so you think. You bow down to them feeling successful as the lady says to you, “We’ll call you to let you know whether you’ve gotten the part or not”, this excites you as you hum on your way out of the hall. The other girls think you’ve got the part looking at how you brim with ecstasy.

Days pass by but you receive no phone call, you’ve attempted to call the casting director a few times but again heard no response from them. This disappoints you as you panic. Your mother sees you in this painstakingly position, “Y/n I think you should apply to other universities now.”, she states, “We cannot keep on supporting your rendezvous for life”, you look at her with a frown, “Just a few days before they call me, I promise they will call.”, you mother just shakes her head and leaves. A week later, after calling them a gazillion times, you go to the amphitheater, to see the lady who was present there when you took the audition that day. You run after her as she notices you coming towards her, she’s panic stricken. You slow down your pace to ease her out. You bow down to her as she nods her head in acknowledgment. “Why did I not receive a call?”, you ask with a burning heart. “That means you were not eligible for the role.”, she says with a nervous face, “The look on your faces said otherwise the day I auditioned”, you say not believing her words which annoys her. “Maybe it’s the problem with how you look, you do not fit the beauty standards, your nose is too big and your jaw is too broad.”, she says in the most condescending way ever, fuming you but you choose to remain silent, you bow to her one last time and head out. You come back home after hailing a taxi. Your mother looks at you as you enter, “Welcome home.”, she says, you ignore her greeting and go upto your room, you know your parents won’t provide you with the money needed for plastic surgery, yes, you’ve been considering plastic surgery, you’ve to look like you’re worthy of Taehyung as well, your brain never stops working, you’re determined to achieve any height to get him to be all yours.

You pack your bags the very same day and announce to your parents that you’ll be living independently from now on, they look surprised and ask you the reason behind such a hasty decision, you just bow to them and walk out.

There's

the red zone in Busan, miles away from the city you’ve had been residing in, which operates a prostitution ring, you’re headed there to earn money for the cosmetic surgeries you want to get done.

You catch the first train to Busan. You reach the brothel where your now colleagues are residing. You greet one of the older women there who has a disgruntled look on her face as she views your face. She invites you inside and hands you a lingerie that you need to wear at all times. Your nipples are visible through the light material, your milky thighs look radiant exposed like that, the only thing that’s properly covered would be your core, your butt is half visible for the men to walk by and get a good look. The rule at the brothel is simple, the more men you’re able to lure to your bed, the more money you make but there’s a rule that 50% of your income must go to the older lady who just handed you the laced lingerie as she is the head here. You stand leaning on the door of your assigned room as you wait for men to enter the red light area. After a while, a man comes in, ladies trying to seduce him, he ignores them all as he lays his eyes on you, you’re beautiful, he comes near you and gently rubs your nipples, you think you’ve captured your first prey, your first client who is decent looking and not that old but he soon leaves you feeling empty as he enters the room beside you, all that nipple play for nothing, you grunt in annoyance. Your first client turns out to be an old geezer who frequently visits the brothel, the second old man you’ve sex with, but anything to get your goal, The old man fucks you relentlessly, but you ensure that he has a wrap on while he does that. Time flies by, as more men visit your room to fuck your brains out. You earn a lot of money but half of what you get goes to the older lady, annoying you, you’ve still not accumulated enough money to fund your surgery and weeks have gone by. You start to bear grudges against other ladies who increasingly taunt you since you’re able to bed more men than them and you also grow tired of the older lady who takes away majority of your money and keeps it to herself. This happens for two more months before you snap, you cannot wait any longer, so you barge into the olden lady’s room who seems to be taking a nap on her bed. She is able to afford a beautifully decorated chair next to her thanks to the money you earn. You tip toe to the place where the chair is kept. You slowly lift the chair up and using all your force you start hitting her face with it. You’ve gone berserk as you keep on shoving the lady’s face with the wooden chair, brutally killing her. She doesn’t even get the time to scream to save her life as you not so helplessly kill her. You drag her body to the bath tub, and run the tap over her face, washing the blood off of her. You wash your hand and mop the floor with bleach leaving no blood stains, you also wash the bed sheet containing the lady’s blood with bleach. You then subtly open the safe in her room with a key that she always holds, even while sleeping, you quickly grab the money and jewellery kept in the safe as you run away with the money out of the brothel.

You hide your face with a black scarf so that no one identifies you from Busan, especially the men whom you’ve slept with. You’re on your way to Gangnam, the capital city of plastic surgery. You go to a goldsmith and sell off the gold jewellery in exchange for a lot a money.

You’ve researched enough about plastic surgeons in the city and there resided many to help you out with getting prettier. You phone one of the numbers inscribed in the phone book containing all of plastic surgery clinics’ numbers. The receptionist picks up your phone, giving you a slot for your appointment tomorrow. The following morning, you get ready with the money in a black bag. You head out for your appointment to the designated office of the surgeon. You arrive before your appointed time. You plop yourself on the velvet couch in the waiting area as you look at the clock waiting for your turn. You yawn a bit getting tired waiting when suddenly the receptionist calls out your name. You get excited as you tread one step closer to making Kim Taehyung yours. You enter the doctor’s cabin. It is evident that the doctor himself has gone under the knife with his alluring features and facial harmony. You take a seat in front of Doctor Kim Seokjin as he looks at you, scanning your face, trying to formulate a facial correction plan in his mind.

"

So Ms Y/n, what are your worries?”, he says in a gentle tone. “Doctor, my nose is too big, my jaw is too broad, my eyes feel droopy and my boobs they are too small. I want to feel pretty.”, you say genuinely, Jin looks at your face once again as he hums. He takes out a notepad and starts scribbling on it, “I understand where your concerns lie Ms Y/n but these are a lot of procedures so they will cost a lot and you’ll have to maintain a certain diet and exercise regularly if you get them done or you’ll relapse to your old form in a desolated manner.”, he says administrating you a mixture of medicines for you to consume after the procedures are done. “Okay Doctor Kim, so when can i come for these surgeries now?”, you ask to which he responds, “In a week, I will have to analyse your facial features and then accordingly operate on you.”

A week passes by, you’re sat on the velvet sofa yet again waiting for your turn to come. The receptionist once again announces your name for your meeting with the doctor but this time you’re led to an operation room. You’re asked to change into a loose hospital attire. After you’re done changing, you’re asked to lie down on the stretcher prominently placed in the middle of the operating room, you adhere to their instructions and position yourself horizontally on the bed. Doctor Jin comes in wearing his surgical mask and cap and a robe as well. While preparing the surgical apparatus, you’re informed that you’ll be undergoing ‘Rhinoplasty, buccal fat removal, double eyelid surgery as well as breast augmentation surgical procedure’. You’re given a hefty dose of drugs to make you have a deep slumber while the doctors and surgeons operate on you.

Post surgery hours are critical for any patient and you’re no exception to it. You’ve bandages wrapped around your face and your chest. A nurse tends to you as you lay down on the bed assigned to you. The nurse gives you medicines. You’ve paid for the surgery beforehand so you need not worry about the after care that follows. You’ll be subjected to bedrest for almost a month before your body starts healing the scars and recuperates the changes on your face and body. You’re under 24/7 supervision of the doctors till then.

A month flows by quickly, you bow down to doctor Seokjin for his services as he nods in return. You go to the place you’ve rented for a while. You go up to your room’s washroom to look at your new face endearingly. A pretty face surely does make everything better. You take a day off and rest as the following day you’ll return back to your hometown and meet the amphitheater lady again.

The following morning, you wake up, admiring your ‘fixed’ face in front of the mirror. You’re all set to leave for your hometown. You catch a train from Gangnam back to your residential area. You get inside a cab as soon as you depart the train station, you guide the driver to the location of the amphitheater.

Once you reach the venue, you step inside the multipurpose hall. You’re not surprised to see the lady sitting on a chair reviewing forms for another casting audition for another project. You go upto her and wave your hand in front of her face to grab her attention. She looks at you, her focus entirely on your being now. Her eyes widen as she recognises you and the altercations you’ve made to your face and chest as her eyes ogle at your enlarged breasts. “So you were saying shit about my face, how it is the reason as to why I was disqualified, so, I corrected it”, you say with a bizarre grin on your face, almost scaring off the lady in front of you. She regains her composure from petrified to one who is succumb to all kinds of weird because she works in a theatre and art is weird, precisely. “Oh honey, you still won’t get the role”, she looks at you pitiful even though she seems quite impressed with your persistence to become an actress, unbeknownst to the real cause of your actions, “Why not?”, you squeal disappointment evident in your voice, “I’m willing to go to any lengths to become an actress, I’m determined and ambitious, I promise.”, you try to persuade her but she just has a sympathetic frown directed towards you, “I’ll be honest with you, I appreciate your sincerity but darling, it wasn’t just your face, your connection matters too, the one who usually gets the acting role needs to have a reputable background and a wide network to help fund the production unit if ever required and clearly since you hadn’t even been to college, no matter how persistent you are, no director will choose you, that’s the bitter reality”, she states it in a sad tone, desolating any chances you’ve had in acting, of course, you’ve known how important connections are, precisely why you wanted to go to Harvard, you look at her while your brain is racing to find another solution to help you achieve your goal to have your beloved man all to yourself, that is until, the lady continues, “Although there is a way, you can broaden your contacts”, you look at her with glint of hope in your eyes, “What is it?”, you ask desperation visible in your voice, “The Movie Mafia”, she states simply, “Movie mafia? like the underworld gangsters who fund the films in exchange of sexual appeasement?”, you ask as she just nods, “How do I meet them?”, you ask and she just slouches her shoulders as an indication that it’s for you to discover. You sigh and bow to her as a token of gratitude for opening another way for you.

.

You know you’re willing to do anything so you log into dark web, memories from when you have had been fourteen and masturbating to Taehyung’s pictures, fresh in your brain, you feel blood rushing to your cheeks at the thought of it. ‘Focus Y/n’, your brain screams at you and you internally scold yourself for getting distracted at the thought of Taehyung. You open a web page on the dark web which discusses the movie mafia, you enter your query—inquiring their location, you wait for a bit before you receive a text notification from a stranger on your messages who is requesting for money from you in exchange of the movie mafia’s address. You immediately oblige to his condition and send him the amount asked by him. He sends you the location in return. You immediately hail a cab so that you could go to the prescribed venue.

Upon reaching there, you stumble across a dark valley, your instincts directing you through the alley, your gut tells you that you’ll find the ‘movie mafia’ there. You find a small door engraved within the walls, as you’re about to open the door, a small voice startles you, “What are you trying to do”, the voice states, “I want to get in and meet someone inside.”, you respond, “I see”, that’s all the voice says before the person, who’s had been previously talking to you, kicks open the door, “there you go”, he says, “Thank you”, you say smiling ear to ear.

You enter via the door to see a few men arm wrestling, while few of them doing coke and a few of the others fucking women out in the open. Your attention is solely focused on the only one who stands out from them, presumably, the leader.

Everybody stops doing what they do as they hear their leader speak in a hoarse voice, “Who are you? How did you get in here?”, he asks, you ignore his questions as you look at him, “I want to become an actress”, you say as you grin at him, weirding him out, “Ok and?”, he says curtly, “Make me one”, you simply say as you take the seat beside him, reducing the proximity between you two, “Why the fuck would I do that?”, he spits, you start undressing, you unbutton your blouse, revealing your bra, as you go onto unstrap your bra, you say “Because I’m hot as fuck”, you say as you throw your bra away on the ground, now sitting topless in front of him, the other men stare at your breasts shamelessly, some even drooling a bit while the leader remains unfazed, “I’ve seen hotter bitches than ya’, that too natural ones, I know silicon implants when I see ‘em”, he says making you frown, “Is that so?”, you simply whisper, “Now get the fuck out of here before I fucking shoot your head”, he says and you do not comply, you will not give up, your will is enough to move mountains, “I’ll do anything, I’m determined to become an actress, I’ll fucking even clean up your dirty laundry and help you out with whatever fucking business you have, I’m willing to cross any boundaries, go to any lengths as long as it promises my acting career’s stability.” you say as the leader raises an eyebrow in amusement, “Anything?”, he says softly, “‘Kay, Jaemin, take her and teach this whore a lesson.”, he says, you’re ready for whatever life throws at you because you’ve only one destiny i.e. Taehyung and you’re willing to mortgage off your soul to the devil for this. Jaemin proceeds towards, as he picks you up on his back unannounced, you immediately clutch on his hair as you bite his ear off with force, astonishing both him and the leader, blood oozing out of his earlobe as he puts you down in panic, you spit out his flesh from your mouth, “Anything.”, you say, answering his question. The leader shoots Jaemin on spot, “Hanbin and Lee Know, don’t disappoint me”, as the leader says this, you see a man approaching you, while the other surprises you by grabbing your exposed breasts, this maddens you, you kick the man who has his hands over your breasts in the stomach, you notice a screwdriver in his pocket, which you swiftly take out, this doesn’t go unnoticed by the other man who is standing in front of you, he plunges forward to punch you in the face, you’re able to dodge his attack, you then smack his head, which annoys him, meanwhile the man who held your breasts, comes out in front of you and slaps you and kicks you in the stomach, you fall down and start laughing as the other man grabs you by your hair while the sexual offender keeps on slapping you, you stab the other man’s hand with the screwdriver, you insert it and then rotate it while it is in his skin, the man screams in agony, loosening his hold on your hair, you then stand up quickly and punch the sexual offender in the face as he falls down on the ground due to the brute force, you kick his filthy hands that touched you without your consent repeatedly, you then gauge his eyes out with the screw-diver, laughing maniacally, the other man who was too busy catering to his injured hand now comes to you, to save his colleague but before he does that, you slip to his behind and then stab his neck, killing him on spot. Your moves have impressed the leader while you continue tormenting the disgusting man who touched you, you neuter him with the bloodied screw driver. , the leader silently spectates it before shooting the latter.

.

The leader’s three men died humiliatingly after being defeated by an insane woman. “I believe you now woman”, the leader says, “‘Tis Namjoon, welcome to the club”, you smile as he introduces himself, “Y/n, sorry about the three men by the way”, you say as you bow to him, “Don’t mind them”, “So now you’ll make me an actress?I’m ready to do anything.”, you ask, he nods his head, “But under one condition, you’ve to successfully complete this mission for me, then i’d make you a star.”, he says, you nod happily, “Okay what’s the mission? I can go now!”, you say hastily, “Calm the fuck down. You’re not trained for it yet, Sang-min, here will train you for a month before your mission, if you achieve what I’ve planned for you, consider yourself as a successful movie star in the entertainment industry”, he spits to which you oblige.

You step inside your assigned dormitory where you’ll be living with Moon Sang-Min, an actor himself, who’ll train you for your mission a month later as well as help you improve your acting skills and PR behaviour.

The next morning, you’ve water splashed on your face at 3 am, you shriek, only to see Sang-Min sitting on your bed with bucket in his hands, he picks you up from the bed and throws you onto the floor, “The fuck man?!”, you say clearly fuming, “your training starts now”, he says nonchalantly, you immediately regain your composure as you stand up straight. He instructs you to run fifty kilometres and you comply, you run around fifty kilometres in two hours, doing anything to get Kim Taehyung. He engages you in intense warming up and workout sessions, you both hit the gym and use the gym machineries to strengthen your muscles and core, you also do boxing with him as he teaches you new moves and orders you to perform them on him. The next thing he does is take you to a shooting ring, where he teaches you as to how to shoot and hold the gun, you’re startled by the loud noise at first even though you’re wearing noise cancelling headphones but gradually as each bullet pierces through the target board, you get used to it. The next thing he does surprises you, he torments you by tying you to a chair and beating you to pulp and then instructs you to escape this set up, you first are unable to but then he teaches you various techniques to help you get out of miscellaneous scenarios. You’re then expected to learn all forms of swimming methodologies and you’re forced to learn taekwondo moves on the same day as all this. At last to give you a peaceful closure to this rigorous training he put you through, he trains you in the field of acting, introducing you to various forms of articulation of emotions on your canvas of a face. You both call it a day as you step into the shower for a quick bath and are expected to fall asleep in five minutes at 1 am during night time.

The

next day, Sang min again wakes you up at 3 am. Gradually, as weeks pass, you get used to this hectic and intense indoctrination. Your inculcation ranging from getting drowned, electrocuted, shot to becoming a black belt in taekwondo, running hundred kilometres in half an hour, mastering swimming techniques and learning how to act gracefully while maintaining a good reputation online and how social media management would be the most effective way to become a leading figure in the industry to expand your influence over the general public, you learnt all this thanks to the tutelage provided by Moon Sang-min.

A month has passed by and you haven’t even felt it pass by so quickly as you were too engaged with getting ready for the mission. You pat yourself on the back as you get one more step closer to your destination (being Kim Taehyung).

“I see ‘em muscles on you.”, Namjoon says honestly, “Kudos to Sang-min for training me”, you say as you smile sheepishly. Namjoon guides you to a secret room where there’s a screen and a projector, he takes out a stick as he signals for one of his henchmen to turn on the projector. The white screen has an image of an old man on it. Namjoon points his stick at the old man. “He’s your target”, he says, you listen to him intently as you scribble down the details he narrates to you regarding the mission. “You’ll be seducing this man as a hostess of our club to the VIP room where you have to tie him up to a chair and electrocute him.”, he says, “Sounds easy”, you state, “‘Til you hear about his tight security, he could be having sex with ya’ and have his men watch it. Your fight is not against this old geezer but actually against the army of men he roams around with. Can I rely on ya?”, he asks, now sounding serious, “Absolutely!”, you chirp, this man doesn’t scare you, in fact, if it took for you to defeat his gigantic swamp of pics to get Taehyung, you’d exactly do that.

You’re wearing a black satin dress which hugs your curves and accentuates your cleavage, bringing prominence to your enlarged breasts. You’ve applied ample amount of makeup on your face, lastly putting on a cherry red lipstick to make yourself look enticing. You wear a gold pendant to put emphasis on your slender collarbones. You’ve hidden a laser tag, rope and a small gun under your dress. You also have liquid phosgene and chloroform in small bottles in case of emergency. You’re taken to the host club via a black jeep. You retouch your makeup and hair before entering as a hostess.

Time flies by, while waiting for the old geezer, your target. He finally arrives after what seems like an eternity to you. You roll your eyes but after the amazing acting sessions by Sang-min, you’re able to masquerade your bored expressions with the one that is usually possessed by a seductress. You walk up to the man, purposely swinging your hips to draw attention to your ass, you see him surrounded by ten bodyguards and seven ladies. You serve drinks to his men, out of which, only five seem to accept the drinks offered by you. You get noticed by the old man whose attention you intended to grab, by serving drinks to his men. He invites you over to sit on his lap, you smile at him enticingly as you lean down, making him have glimpse of your nipples through your exposed cleavage window, you sit on his lap and start stroking his dick, he starts growing hot, you guide his fingers to inside your dress, he plays with your clothed nipples, now wanting to lick and suckle on them as well, he removes your sleeve off one of your shoulders, you gently hold his hands and your fingers point upstairs, showing him the VIP room where he could have you whole, he licks his lips and asks his men to follow you and him to the exclusive room, unbeknownst to the smirk that’s slightly playing on your lips as you’re able to successfully lure him into the room.

As you’re about to enter the luxurious VIP room, the five men whom you served drinks suddenly faint and fall down onto the floor, the other men get alert while you’ve to quickly jump into action so you immediately put a cloth sprayed with chloroform over the old man’s mouth causing him to faint, you immediately tie him up with the agility and speed you acquired through the training, as soon as the other five men who were tending to the fainted men, get up and look at you tying their boss, they set into attack you. One of the guys tries to punch you which you dodge gracefully as you form a full circle with your leg and kick his leg causing him to fall down on his knees due to the incinerated injury, the second man then approaches you with a gun, you kick the gun out of his hand as you electrocute him and cause him to faint, you kick the first man again, now in the balls and then shoot him in the head, killing him on spot, the third and the fourth men attack you at the same time, you’re able to successfully escape their punches while you attempt to kick their stomachs and punch them in their face simultaneously, you shoot them as well, killing them on spot, the last standing man, jumps at you, causing you to fall down, you both keep on rolling over each other, trying to gain dominance over the other, then you suddenly grab his hair and feed him the bottle of phosgene, killing him on spot as well. Namjoon arrives a while later while you’re looking at your freshly manicured nails. Namjoon looks at how you’ve successfully accomplished your task and then pats your back, you look at him while he does that, “I don’t want felicitations, I want to act.”, you state with a poker face, Namjoon nods his head and says, “Tomorrow morning, meet me in the same hall as the day we discussed your mission”, you nod in return.

The following morning, you dress up extra as you’re excited to finally come miles closer to Taehyung. You can’t wait to achieve your goal and as you become closer to your aim, your heart starts failing due to overloaded excitement and thrill.

Namjoon is seated on one of the black chairs wearing a suit, he looks at you as you enter the room, you sit on the seat beside him. “So what now?”, you say excitedly, he takes out a picture of a young man in front of you, “You’re going to seduce him now.”, he says, you frown at his words, “Is this another mission?”, you ask, he shakes his head, “No, sleeping with him will make you a star”, he says, “So I just have to sleep with him?”, you innocently ask, he again shakes his head, “If only it was that easy, you need to record yourself sleeping with him and then blackmail him to cast you in one of his projects.”, he says, surprising you, “I’ve to record a porno now?”, you say slightly fluttered, “…and use that as your ticket to K-entertainment industry.”, he finishes speaking. “Where do I find this man though?”, you ask, “You’ll know soon don’t worry sweetheart.”, he says.

And you do get to know where you’ll locate him, you’re now sitting right next to him at a bar as he’s looking at scripts of his future projects. He is a director after all. You’re wearing a revealing red dress, your cleavage prominently visible, your milky thighs exposed to the man. You’re just waiting for the workaholic to notice you. Although he is known for sleeping around but right now he’s too engrossed with his work. You’ve to somehow distract him from his work. What a perfect plan to incorporate your ideas as well. Your glass slips out of your hand, spilling juice on his glasses, he is bound to look up at you now, but to your surprise, he still doesn’t, that’s when you come up with an impromptu plan to clean his glasses, you suddenly tap on his shoulders, he looks at you stunned by your beauty, you then speak to him, “Kind sir, may I wipe the juice droplets that trickled down to your glasses?”, you ask politely, your voice soft, he melts as he slowly complies to your request, you flash a smile to him while you take his glasses in your hand and wipe them using your handkerchief. You both then engage in a conversation at the bar, where he’s telling you how his name is Jungkook and that he’s a director and you’re telling him how you’re an aspiring author, your inspiration being L.J. Smith. He seems pretty into you by now. You stare into his eyes before capturing his lips into a small sweet kiss which he reciprocates, his lust, clear as crystal. You both make out till you reach out of the club, he phones his driver to get his car, you both silently walk up to his car, where he helps you sit. He kisses you there as well in the car, his spectacles sometimes clashing with your nose bridge making you chuckle. you reach his apartment and as you’re about to enter, he stops you. He makes you remove your dress in front of him in the corridor before letting you in his house, he also ensures that you have kept your small purse outside his door. After this, he pounces on you like a beast, devouring you. He puts his glasses on a night table in front of the bed in which he’s about to take you in wholly. After you both are done with your intense love making session, with his hickeys painted all over your body, he asks you to leave, that surprises you a bit but you do as he says, you get out of his apartment and step into your dress outside his gate.

The following morning, Jungkook receives an email from an unknown sender, he immediately opens the mail out of burning curiosity but that turns out to be his biggest regret ever as he’s met with the video of him fucking you on the bed. In one of the scenes, he’s seen snorting coke through your ass while actively spanking your ass, if the media gets a hold of this footage, it would ruin him, which he fears the most. The only thing most astonishing about this entire incident more than the sex tape was the fact that you were somehow able to film the sex even-though all your stuff had been barricaded outside his house. He wonders as to how you’ve done the deed and then he notices his spectacles on his nose bridge, he fucking yells out your name as realisation sinks in, you spilled the juice on his glasses on purpose, in order to blackmail him with his sex tape where he’s doing drugs the wolf way. He immediately responds to the email, wanting to meet up with the sender, who he thinks is you, and he turns out to be right, as you sit in front of him, wearing a red lipstick, still looking hot as ever. “What the fuck do you want, woman?”, Jungkook questions panic lacing in his voice. “I lied about being an aspiring author, I wanna be an actress! You’re a hot shot director.”, you say, Jungkook now understands you, the likes of you who desperately want money and fame, he’s disgusted by girls like you who use deception to actively climb up the ladder but he has no choice but to submit to your qualms as you hold an integral piece of evidence that will destroy his career. “Okay, the first thing today I’ll do will be cast you in my new project, Cha eun woo is the male lead.”, he says as you frown, Jungkook notices the saddened expression on your face, “You don’t want to work?”, he inquires, “I’ll be honest with you, I actually don’t want to act”, you say truthfully as Jungkook looks taken aback by what you just said, “Then why the fuck are you blackmailing me woman?”, he asks as a scowl forms on his face, “fame is not what i want”, you say as jungkook raises an eyebrow wanting you to continue, “there’s someone I want for whom I could go to any extent, cross whatever lines that exist between us, just so that I could one day make him mine.”, you say as you think of Taehyung, Jungkook doesn’t understand what you say that is until you take out a small plastic bag out of your pocket containing Taehyung’s hair strand, you carry it everywhere with you as a token of your undying love for the aforementioned man, “This is actor’s Taehyung hair strand, I bought it when I was fourteen via dark web.”, you state, surprising him, “You love Taehyung?”, he states now even more amused by you, “I think what I harbour for him surpasses love, he has become the sole reason of my existence.”, you state with fire blazing in your eyes, Jungkook notices how your soulless eyes finally show emotions at the mention of Taehyung, now it wouldn’t be just pure blackmail motivating him to get you to work with Taehyung but also his own curiosity to get to know you better. “Come tomorrow, I’m planning to replace the villainess of my tv show in which Taehyung is starring, I think you’d be a perfect fit for the character”, he says, “Why not the main female lead?”, you question to which he smirks before replying, “Taehyung’s current girlfriend is playing that role alongside him now.”, as these words leave his lips, you feel a pang of jealousy within your heart, in fact, your soul set to arson by the revelation of this fact, looking at your current expressions, Jungkook taunts, “did you really think he’d go on in his life without dating anyone? did you never consider this being a possibility?”, he snarks, you roll your eyes, “it stings a lot I’d admit it but even if he was married, that wouldn’t stop me from making him mine so what even is a girlfriend in front of me?”, you retort, Jungkook looks surprised as he raises his hands in surrender.

The following morning, you wake up at 4 am, grooming yourself, getting ready, it takes you 5 hours to get ready and you still don’t feel like that is enough, you’re finally going to be meeting your destination, the person who has owned your heart ever since you’ve been ten. You wear the most expensive dress there is in the closet, you keep on screaming out of sheer excitement and nervousness, you haven’t eaten a thing since morning as this is the least you can do for the man who has had your heart stolen by him, your soul belongs to him, you solely only belong to him, the entire long drawn journey, finally bearing fruitful results, you grow overwhelmed with emotions as you’re nearing him. You’ve fainted five times already at the thought of meeting him. This is your condition before even meeting him, what would even happen when you meet him.

Hours pass by, as you reach the sets of Jungkook’s ongoing project. The d-day has finally arrived. You’re gonna meet the king of your soul, your body, your heart heck your everything.

Moments before the grandeur meeting. You finally see him, your soul which was aching for even a glimpse of him is now taken abode to heaven. Your heart thirsting for even a glance of him gets quenched when you finally see his features. God has carefully crafted in the formation of this handsome man, his features absolutely breath taking, his eyes, a beautiful shade of light brown. Fireworks explode in your chest as you fall to your knees at the sight of him, that is, until you see him with his supposed girlfriend but not for long. Jungkook comes near you as he helps you stand up while your soul burning with envy looks at the woman as an involuntary scowl forms on your face. That woman seems familiar to you. Where have you seen her before. You keep on pondering and that is when it clicks you. The man you’ve been desiring since most of your childhood is dating your childhood friend Evie?!. This is a shock to you, how did she even bag him is what you wonder. Suddenly, Taehyung’s eyes are directed towards you, your hearts skips a beat as you stare back into his beautiful and mesmerising eyes. Taehyung leaves his girlfriend to come talk to you. As Taehyung’s approaching you, Jungkook whispers into your ears, “He doesn’t like women who immediately jump onto him so you might want to curb your urge to just fuck him here.”, he says while you tune it all out because you’re in your own world because of Kim Taehyung. “Hey, you’re new here!”, he says smiling at you, you keep on admiringly staring at him before you’re pulled out of the trance as he waves his hand in front of you, “Oh i’m sorry, yes I’ll be playing the new villainess here.”, you internally scream as you’re talking to Taehyung live in action.

“Now kiss!”, Taehyung moves forward to kiss Evie, but as they’re about to kiss, you scream, you make others think that it’s impromptu method acting but all you’re trying to do is not let them kiss, this is when Evie notices you and recognises you, she’s a bit surprised by your ‘sudden acting’. “Bravo acting”, Jungkook praises you as you bow to him, then Taehyung comes to you and as he’s about to come to you, you intentionally slip on your heels, causing for Taehyung to hold you by your waist to prevent your fall. You both bore into each other’s eyes, feeling an electrifying spark, your breath shortening due to him being so close.

“Cut!” The cast wraps up for the day, “You did well”, Taehyung smiles at you feeling something between you spark, “So did you”, you reply honestly. “Can you give me your number?”, he asks, your heart starts racing hard, “Sure”, you smile at him, you jot down your number on a paper and give it to him. He smiles at you and then proceeds to leave with that whore.

You secretly follow Taehyung as he’s with Evie, he hands the note with your number to her, you’re so confused by this but you choose to ignore his actions as you’re more focused on admiring him. Taehyung goes to his apartment while Evie is alone, this is also the night, you’ve set up to have Taehyung break things off with Evie immediately because you know you cannot stand to see them together anymore.

You dial in Moon Sang-min’s number on your phone and tell him to come with his car, he follows your word and arrives with his car, you get in and push him out, “Do what I told you to do”, is what you say him before he nods and goes Evie’s way.

“Hello”, Sang-min says to Evie, she gets startled by his sudden appearance, “Hello Oppa”, she says blushing profusely, of course she is attracted to him, Sang-min subtly puts his arms around her waist as they continue talking as someone captures their meeting, unknown to her. That someone being you, you post their interaction via Dispatch on Jungkook’s instructions.

An uproar is caused in the morning, multiple death threats sent to Evie by Sang-min’s fans, which you think she deserves, you hum happily, as you learn about the hate she’s receiving.

You get a text from an unknown number, the text reads, “Hi Y/n babe, I missed you so much, please text me when you read this, It’s Evie, Let’s meet up, I kind of need you right now.”, you immediately respond back, agreeing to meet up with her. You wear the second most expensive dress in your closet to visit her.

She’s looking at the ocean while waiting for you in a cafe’s balcony, the café that is owned by Jungkook. As soon as she sees you entering the café, she waves at you. You go towards her. You take a seat in front of her as she motions to speak, “I’m so sorry we haven’t been in contact for so long!”, she apologises genuinely, “it’s okay”, you smile at her as you say that. You both talk about how your lives have had been while you’ve been away from each other, you lie about your life though.

Hours pass by, as you both catch up, that’s when Evie strikes up her concerns with you, “You know Y/n I’ve been getting so much hate ever since someone pictured my harmless interaction with Sang-min oppa and you know I can stand all that hate but this one hurts because even Taehyung is mad at me now.”, she says, surprising you, “Has he broken up with you?”, you say barely being able to hide your happiness, “Noo ew; we’ll never break up, in fact we’d get married.”, she says, this turns something in you as you offer her brown sugar to add to her coffee, which she happily complies with. “You know Evie, while growing up even I’ve had a huge crush on Taehyung”, you say as it surprises Evie now, “Is that so?”, she says, “Yes, things get messy when a simple crush blurs its lines with desire, passion and undying love for the person”, you say confusing her, “How so?”, she asks, “Crush is something you can get over, the love I’m talking about transcends peak obsession, you know where you blur the lines between good and evil for the one you love.”, you say explaining to her, she still doesn’t understand but gives you a small smile, “That’s cute but whom do you love that way.”, she asks curious, “Taehyung”, you simply reply while sipping onto your coffee, her face gets rubbed off of any smile on her face, as she slowly loses her consciousness, slowly diving towards death, wholly because of the poison you did add to the brown sugar sachet before handing it to her. There stands no one between you and Taehyung, you’ll ensure no one does.

The next morning, the entire nation is in splits after the devastating announcement of your childhood friend’s murder orchestrated as a suicide by you due to online bullying and harassment she faced online when she has had been alive. You grab your purse before heading out to Taehyung’s place as you know he’d be the most devastated one by this news and you stand corrected, he’s crying, he’s spiralling down into doldrum but worry not he has you to nurse his broken heart, you offer your fake condolences to him and then console him, feeling a bit envious because of Evie’s death impacting him so much but whatever at least there would be no more hurdles between you and him now.

You and Taehyung have been getting pretty close now, especially after the day Evie left this world’s premises. You’ve always offered him a reliable shoulder to cry on. Taehyung is slowly forgetting about Evie and getting over her death as you fill up the empty holes in his heart. Taehyung is gradually falling in love with you, he spends all his time with you, even on the sets of the show you’ve been taken in as the female lead by Jungkook now after Evie’s passing. He loves all the moments he has spent with you as he replays your conversations with him all over in his head again and again, he cherishes you and is planning to confess soon to you.

The day Taehyung confesses to you, you feel so mellow and gentle, you’ve a song written for him by a famous singer, Keara Graves, you sing the song to him as your response to accepting his confession. You both get into a relationship moments later. Your plan has effectively worked well, you’ve come a long way with everything, you’ve to pat yourself on the back for never giving up and going through hell to obtain the man whom you call very much so yours now. You have had known that meeting someone during their vulnerable period makes them get attached to you and that is what you did with Taehyung, you waited for him to get vulnerable, strike at the right time and then win his heart.

This has been quite a journey for you, you’ve learnt a lot about yourself and how much you can do for this man you’ve promised to love forever in this life time. You’ve achieved your goal successfully. This feels unreal to you but then you remember you’d do anything to have him even if it means putting your life at stake and you did do everything you could to have him. You’re in love with this man, there’s no denying that, you’ll always love him no matter what happens and you’ll ensure he never leaves your side nonetheless.

This is the love story where you relentlessly love him and go to any extent to get him to become yours.

This is your story of loving him and how love and will can move mountains, just like in your case.

Thinkin' 'bout the day when we first met The way you made me feel and how you left What I wouldn't give just to be more To be someone that you hold and you adore Look at my eyes See what you mean to me Feel the beat of my heart I need to believe that I could walk through fiery burning love But you still wouldn't feel the heat Feel the heat It burns in me But you see through me I could walk through fiery burning love (you see through me) I could walk through fiery burning love You always know exactly what to say To pull me in before you walk away But I don't wanna go through this again To act like I'm okay just being friends Look at my eyes See what you mean to me Feel the beat of my heart I need to believe that I could walk through fiery burning love But you still wouldn't feel the heat Feel the heat It burns in me But you see through me I could walk through fiery burning love Oh now, I'm calling out I don't have the words to say Maybe in another life it could be another way In another life you'd stay Look at my eyes See what you mean to me Feel the beat of my heart I need to believe that I could walk through fiery burning love But you still wouldn't feel the heat Feel the heat It burns in me But you see through me I could walk through fiery burning love (you see through me) I could walk through fiery burning love

~Keara Graves.

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the end

[nyxronomicon]

🍉 sponsor a fic for gaza 🍉

hey y'all! I decided to offer some of my favorite WIPs up for sponsorship as part of the @ficsforgaza campaign.

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salvation | suguru geto x f!reader (series masterlist)

Nearly a year and a half after your divorce, Suguru Geto still texts you. You stopped responding after he told you the ridiculous lie that he was a priest a year ago. When he sends a picture of himself in his priest robes, you feel a little guilty about ignoring him all this time. cw: dub-con (coersion), manipulation, others listed on the series masterlist. (sponsorship going towards the final two chapters of the series) words sponsored: 0/4000

thank you for the venom | toji fushiguro x f!reader

years of cheating and verbal abuse pushes you to murder your rich husband, satoru gojo. finishing a lovely dinner with him slumped over the table, you're surprised when toji shows up in your dining room to assassinate him, only to find him dead already. He offers to clean up your mess, but not for free. cw: reader kills her husband (poison), knife play (no cutting just a bit of danger), manhandling, toji physically restrains reader, other cw tbd words written: 1.1k of 2k-ish words sponsored: 1000/1000 🎉🎉

paperwork | enji todoroki x f!reader

you've been endeavor's secretary for years, and even though he's recently been named number one pro hero after all might's retirement, it seems his life is falling apart. though you've mutually pined for each other over the years, it never went anywhere. that is, until you accidentally mention that enji has always been your number one hero. cw: implied age difference, porn w plot, angst, power dynamic (enji's your boss lol), size (emphasis on him being large lol), other cw tbd words written: 1.5k of 2.5-3k words sponsored: 500/1500

blissful nightmare | death meme!Gallagher x f!reader

au based on the idea that gallagher transforms into the death meme werewolf-style. you talk your favorite bartender, gallagher, into taking you deeper into the dreamscape. the veil keeping gallagher in his human form becomes harder for him to control the deeper he goes, but his lust for you has him diving into that abyss after you. cw: monsterfucking, horror themes, rough sex, claws, heat cycle will be a revised and lengthened version of this words sponsored: 500/2000

fushiguro step.cest au | step.dad!toji / step.bro!megumi x f!reader

for this one I'm doing something a little different. here's the au so far: step.dad!toji | step.bro!megumi toji can't keep his hands off you (obviously) even in public. even in front of his son, though he tries to be discreet he's rarely successful. and of course, there are always consequences when you mess with megumi... cw: step.cest!!, megumi is ROUGH, cucking, maybe public/risky location, brat taming (from megumi), other cw tbd I'm allowing a vote per dollar spent on how many words I will use on each character's respective sex scenes, to a 2k total word max. If you'd like to sponsor this one, please let me know how you'd like to distribute your votes! words for megumi: 500 words for toji: 500 total words sponsored: 1000/2000

I have many WIPs so it's likely as I finish these I may swap in others. if you've seen me talking about a WIP you may be interested in sponsoring, let me know! I'm happy to open up other WIPs in the interest of supporting Palestine!!

posts about this (not the completed fics) will be tagged #nyx writes for gaza

[bakuhoes-dumbass]

Aberration - Chapter 2

MHA!Various x Fem!Reader

Thriller/Horror/Drama

Criminal!AU

Words: 1.5k

A/N: Yay, here’s the second chapter of my new AU! It’s a little shorter but I promise chapters will get longer as we go.

Warnings: Yandere Themes, Mentions of murder, blood, felonies, bullying, swearing.

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of MHA, just this story. In no way does this reflect the characters, writers or VAs of the show/manga. MINORS DNI.

~~~

Aberration Masterlist

~~~

"Now, on to your next subject. Inmate 04, Eijiro Kirishima." You flip the page of your inmate profiles to see a picture of a red-haired man. "He is of a higher danger level, so make sure to keep your guard up. And for the love of God, under any circumstances…

Do not touch him."

Only slightly acknowledging his warning, you look down at your notes, eyebrows shooting up in surprise at the words on the page. "He suffers from Erotomania? Interesting…"

Aizawa nods. "Ah, yes. A very rare condition indeed, especially in males. The affected person strongly believes that another individual is in love with them. This delusion develops and persists despite clear evidence to the contrary."

"That's a very exciting find. I can't wait to meet him." Your eyes light up, quite intrigued.

Aizawa sighs and gestures with his head. "Follow me."

Kirishima's room was only a few doors down from Tokoyami's. Once again, Aizawa presses his hand to a key code and you hear the door unlock, following a buzzer. You slowly make your way into the room. It mirrors Tokoyami's down to the last detail, the only difference being a redhead was currently doing pushups.

He barely acknowledges a person stepping into his room, eyes flitting to your form and back to the ground. It takes him a moment to realize it was someone new. As soon as he does, his eyes widen and he springs onto his feet, slightly startling you.

"Oh! Hello there! You're new!"

You nod your head and smile at the red-head. "That I am. My name is Y/N and I'm the newest scientist at this facility. My role here is to get to know and observe you all to help further our findings for a cure." You choose to leave out the 'friends' part, as something about him makes you weary. You don't need anything being misinterpreted.

"Hello there, Y/N! My name is Kirishima!" He takes a step towards you but is suddenly stopped by a lower force. You look down to see his ankles chained to the heavy-duty bed frame, connected to him by quirk-canceling cuffs. You look back up to see him looking at you intensely, with a shark-toothed smile. "Man, you're really pretty!"

You swallow thickly, but keep your smile. "That's very kind of you to say, Kirishima. Now, if I may." You take a seat at the desk like you did with Tokoyami. Kirishima follows suit and sits across from you on the bed. His smile never wavers, making you slightly uneasy. You ignore it and turn to a blank page in your notebook. "Now, if you could please state your full name, age and date of birth?"

He gives you a chuckle and points to himself proudly with his thumb. "I'M Eijiro Kirishima! I'm 22 years old and my Birthday is October 16th!"

You giggle softly at his extroverted personality. "Ahh, same birth month as Tokoyami." You mumble to yourself. His ears perked up and his smile faltered slightly.

"You met Tokoyami already?"

"Hm?" You look up and smile fondly. "Ah yes, I have. He was the first one. A very nice young man."

You look back down at your notes, failing to see Kirishima's eye twitch slightly. He returns to his signature smile as you look up at him again. "And what is your quirk?"

"Oh, it's so cool! I can harden my entire body to an extreme. I can make myself a shield or a weapon! Pretty manly, am I right?" Kirishima wiggles his eyebrows at you, causing you to chuckle.

"That is definitely a unique one, Kiri." You, once again, fail to notice the way his eyes light up at the nickname, too busy looking down at your notes. "Now I see here that you've been charged with Stalking and 2 counts of second degree murder. Is that correct?"

"Yup! Although I don't understand how it would be considered 'Stalking', when she always knew I was around. She was okay with it, too! I mean, we WERE in love, you know." He furrows his brows.

You raise a brow and write down everything he says. "Care to continue explaining what happened? Why were you brought into this facility?"

Kirishima sighs and rests his chin on his hand, a dazed look on his face. "Well, you see. There was this girl. We were totally, completely head over heels for each other. You've probably heard of her, Kim Hyuna?"

Your eyebrows shoot up. Yeah, you heard of her. She is one of the biggest idols around right now, extremely pretty and extremely talented. She has millions of fans from around the world. You already can see where the direction of this story is headed.

He continues with a wide smile. "We used to go out on dates everywhere. To the mall, the salon, even to her dorms. We were so in love." His dazed expression turns sour. "Then that stupid boy shows up outta nowhere. He took her from me. He dared to take something so precious from me. So, I couldn't take it anymore and, uh, kinda killed them."

You watched him rub the back of his neck sheepishly, like the situation was no more than a mere broken dish he dropped on accident. You nod your head carefully, writing the last bit of information down. Clicking your pen, you look up and give the young man a fake smile.

"Well, that's it for today, Kirishima. I must take my leave, but I'll be back to run some tests soon."

Kirishima frowns and quickly stands up. "W-Wait, already?"

You gather up your notes and clipboard. "Yes, unfortunately. I do have some other patients I need to get to before-" as you go to stand up, your foot gets caught under the chair leg and you trip. You accidentally fall forward and into something hard. Looking up, you realized you fell against Kirishima himself, your hands splayed out against his chest.

His eyes widen, staring down at your hands against his chest, something shifting in his eyes. Before you're able to pull your hands away, his own reach up and snatch your wrists, holding them in place. A blush appears on the apples of his cheeks.

"Y-Y/N. I-I had no idea you felt the same."

Your eyes widen in fear. You attempt to tug your hands away, but his iron grip tightens into a bruising force. "Kirishima, I would advise you to kindly let go of me. Please, don't misunderstand the situation."

His grin widens, showcasing his sharp teeth. Red eyes bore into yours with a wild look. You hear the door buzz behind you and a flood of voices coming in. You feel a pair of arms reach around you and hands grip your elbows. Two pairs of hands each grab Kirishima by the arms and force him to release his grip on you. You watched two of Aizawa's assistants hold down a struggling Kirishima as you were forcibly dragged out of his room.

Once safely outside, you were spun around to meet the eyes of a fuming and worried doctor. "Are you alright, Y/N?" Aizawa's eyes travel along your body, doing a quick examination to make sure nothing was injured.

You nod your head and rotate your slightly bruised wrists. "Y-Yeah, I'm fine. Just a little shaken up."

Aizawa sighs. "Didn't I say NOT to touch him? His obsession tends to solidify with physical contact."

You wince. "I know. This time it was an accident. I tripped and he just happened to, uh, be the 'wall' I fell against." You think back to the moment you fell against Kirishima. His chest felt almost rock solid, not like a normal human body would be. Now you're thinking that his quirk leaked through the cuffs and that thought scares you.

"Nobody said you were clumsy when you were hired," he sighs and runs a hand down his tired face. "There are still 9 other inmates you need to check with. And 6 out of the 9 are above Kirishima's danger level. Are you still up for it today?"

You shake out your hands and nod your head. "Yes! I am. A little scare never bothered me. This is my job."

Aizawa hummed in reply and flipped through his clipboard, stopping on a page. "Inmate 09, Keigo Takami. Mafia leader. He's a level 7 as well, but doesn't have delusions like Inmate 04 does. While he's very dangerous, he's a little more tolerable." Aizawa hesitates before continuing. "Er, minus the excessive flirting."

You sigh and flip through Keigo's information. "Oh goodie. Well, let's get this over with." You follow Aizawa to Keigo's door and once it buzzes, you enter the pristine, white room.

"Good afternoon Mr. Keigo, my name is Y/N and I'll-" You look up from your notes to see a half naked man with blonde hair and bright red bird wings lounging on his bed. Your jaw drops and you hold your clipboard up in front of your suddenly heated face.

Keigo looks over to you with his brows raised. "Well well, looks like we've got ourselves a new baby bird. How…" The handsome man's lips turn up into a cocky smirk.

"...interesting."

~~~

Taglist: @theblueslytherin @sterassion @somechick30003 @meena-in-a-nutshell @justtj-andnonumberspls @zombieonna @amajikiwife @yulifee @atexansadventureintokinkandlife @ep-ip-ha-ny @hcneymilkks @pastelmoonwitche @stayarmytinyzenmoa-l @railmeddy @unlimitedfirepheonix @confaegion @drownedbytears @burntcrips @silverqueenie @the-lady-writes-what @awkward-confused @themotherofmoons @ihaveakoreanseoul @1-800-multifandomness @tragically-here @andyronii @sunnnyshark @henhouse-horrors  @dabis-s-whore 

(If your name is bolded, I couldn’t tag you)

[clevercatchphrase]

Ghost Switch’s 4th Birthday~

Ahh... Another year down and we’re about 2/3rds done with the Snowdin arc! GOD I hope I finish within the next year, preferably before the end of 2022, but I can’t accurately guesstimate that far ahead. 

I don’t really have a full color comic like I did that last two years, but I DO want to take a minute to appreciate my art improvement this last year, ESPECIALLY with Asgore. Geez, I remember having THE HARDEST time drawing his face 3 years ago in 2019 when he showed up in the first memory, but now??

LOOK👏AT👏THAT👏GLOW UP!

Still no mustache but at this point there ain’t gonna be any on him in the comic. God, he looks so much more huggable now (and younger too!). And comparing the older pages side-by-side the newest ones, I just cannot fathom that I ever made my lineart so thin. Trying to do that now would be impossible for me. I like my lines THICK, if you know what I’m saying (what I am saying is that I just cannot set my brush size to anything less than 14 these days, and that’s only on the SMALL drawings. Big ones are a minimum of 20)

Looking over my art from the past year, have I learned anything new??? 

No. No, I don’t think so. Comic making is still fun, and I’ve gotten into a good rhythm of it~ Making 11 pages in the span of 3ish weeks was quite the challenge, though. It always feels so nice to have a big buffer, and not have to worry about falling behind on pages. It was rewarding and irritating that the third memory, which normally would have taken 2 MONTHS to tell got finished in 3 weeks. God, I wish I could keep up that pace for the rest of the snowdin arc, but that pace is just unsustainable for me in the long run.

SPEAKING OF THE THIRD MEMORY, I have a funny story to tell. For those unaware, I started scripting Ghost Switch in the middle of 2017 (exactly 1 year before the first page was posted, to be exact) and while I knew all the major story beats well before I started, some of the finer details, like minor characters, were still undecided even after I started making pages. One of those was to be Chara and Asriel’s private tutor.

I was already kinda spit balling ideas on a partner for Gerson, since Gerson himself is recognizable in Undertale and thus the fandom. Though honestly, I didn’t really want to make up OCs to be paired with canon characters. (no shade to those who do, I just don’t feel like I could ever create a OC who has the same... “status”? or “importance”? as a canon character does when it comes to acceptance by the fandom at large, and nor do I even want to try)

A year in, and I still haden’t solved the “Partner for Gerson” problem, so imagine my delight when deltarune came out

and I saw this beautiful man

It was pure serendipity.

Or so I thought.

And so, after learning about this new character named Alvin, I finalized my script and ignorantly went about my life, chewing away at this comic for the next 3 years.

Ignorance really is bliss, but last year, while I was listening along to the 6th Undertale anniversary Deltarune Chapter 1 live stream in which the Dog himself was apart in, Toby dropped this bombshell on me that I had never deduced;

I was a little upset by this.

Okay, maybe more than a little. I was absolutely furious at what this meant for me. And yes, I did see the drawing in the unused classroom that had alvin’s name on it. But honest to god, hand on heart, I thought it was a picture OF Alvin, and that the artist had titled it as such. It totally didn’t click to me that it was a drawing BY Alvin of his DAD. (And can you really blame me?? There weren’t too many identifiable features on that tiny square of pixels!)

But, hey, this is just Toby talking off the record. As long as the game itself didn’t confirm it, I was good, right? They could still be 2 unrelated gay turtle monsters in my comic, right?

Well, when I first played chapter 2, I didn’t really care much about what was happening in the dark world, but once I was back in the overworld, you know I bee-lined it to the church, hoping to find NOTHING honestly. But no. You talk to Alvin in the graveyard and he flat out confirms he’s Gerson’s son. There was canon evidence that they were related. I was devastated.

 At a loss of what to do. My script was finalized for this memory, my dialogue typed, my dominoes set up. What was I to do? Should I alter some text? Or just keep it as is? Sure, what I have written down could be read as either platonically or romantically, but I don’t want people to think I’m implying things I’m not!

I JUST WANTED THE TURTLES TO BE GAY, NOT INCESTUOUS, DAMMIT!

In the end, I decided not to change very much. There was never any direct mention of what kind of relationship Gerson and Alvin had in my comic, and for all I care, they are not related in this story. I guess the joke’s on me for trying to take a “minor NPC” from an unfinished game and using him for my own ends. My, my, how god doth laugh at the sight of my suffering.

Thanks for reading my comic and continuing to stick around, guys. It really means a lot to me.

[writers-worst-nightmare]

Welcome to the internet

PLATONIC TOMMY X READER

Summery: y/n is older then Tommy, and once Tommy gets to his reach of fame y/n finally shows him the mess that the internet really is

A/N: this song is just *chefs kiss*

Warning(s): mentions of racism, cussing, minor talks about murder, it mentions rule 34…soooo…..do with that what you must (“and a bunch of colored pencil drawings of all the different character of Harry Potter fucking each other“ is the line)

You slid in front of Tommy and placed on a large smile on your face, dragging Tommy to your computer you started humming slightly.

“Welcome to the internet! Have a look around Anything that brain of yours can think of can be found We've got mountains of content—some better, some worse If none of it's of interest to you, you'd be the first”

You exclaimed happily, Tommy nodded in agreement before laughing.

”My job is streaming for the internet to see, of course I know that!” Tommy brushed off. You laughed breathlessly a little bit before saying again

“Welcome to the internet! Come and take a seat”

you offered, patting the chair next to you. Tommy happily accepted and sat down on the chair next to you.

“Would you like to see the news or any famous women's feet?”

You asked as you pulled up countless of pictures of fake News that spread like wildfires greedily licking up all the little things that celebrities said and putting them out of context, or just making up random shit and posting it on their new magazine cover to get more people to but their products that they got. Then, you quickly pulled up pictures of women getting sexualized for practically nothing. Through all of this, Tommy just stood their in silence, frozen still.

“There's no need to panic; this isn't a test, haha Just nod or shake your head, and we'll do the rest”

Tommy, still frozen, looked at the screen as you got ready to pull up more pages of the internet

“Welcome to the internet! What would you prefer?”

You proceed, quickly typing some things in on your keyboard before clicking “enter“ and showing Tommy what you mean Whenever you say that you need a break from the internet and take a couple months (or even years when it gets really bad) of not posting or anything.

”Would you like to fight for civil rights?”

You showed Tommy the BLM movement. Tommy smiled and nodded his head ‘yes.’

“Or tweet a racial slur?”

You showed the countless of tweets that showed up as famous celebrities posted about how the BLM movement was stupid.

“Why would I do that—“ Tommy was cut off by you picking up your speech a little.

“Be happy!”

You opened up the Spotify app

”Be horny!”

You opened up the Wattpad app

”Be bursting with rage!”

you opened up Twitter once more

“We’ve got a million ways to engage!”

You cheered as you showed Tommy the different apps and internet searches you could go off of.

“Well, yes, I know that but isn’t there a different way to—“ Tonly was cut off again by you explaining more.

“Welcome to the internet! Put your cares aside”

You seemed to e going slightly more irritated with yourself as you kept on going.

“Here's a tip for straining pasta;”

Tommy relaxed a little as you put up tips for straining pasta, maybe there was only a tiny part of the internet that was bad.

“here's a nine-year-old who died”

You pulled up countless of articles, and Tommy’s breath caught in his throat as he stared down at the mess of the internet. One minute was pasta and the other is was death? What the fuck!?

”We've got movies and doctors and fantasy sports”

Tommy looked bewildered, as if the fact about a ton of nine-year-olds dying was the same as saying it was a sunny day outside.

“And a bunch of colored-pencil drawings of all the different characters in Harry Potter fucking each other”

”I—I beg your fucking pardon!?” Tommy exclaimed looking even more baffled.

”Welcome to the internet! Hold on to your socks 'Cause a random guy just kindly sent you photos of his cock They are grainy and off-putting; he just sent you more Don't act surprised—you know you like it, you whore”

”Y/n….what has been happening!?” Tommy yelled as he stared at you in a worried expression.

“See a man beheaded, get offended, see a shrink Show us pictures of your children, tell us every thought you think Start a rumor, buy a broomer, send a death threat to a boomer Or DM a girl and groom her; do a zoomer find a tumor in your— Here's a healthy breakfast option, you should kill your mom Here's why women never fuck you; here's how you can build a bomb Which Power Ranger are you? Take this quirky quiz Obama sent the immigrants to vaccinate your kids”

Tears started to fall from your eyes as you stared down at the phone that held internet.

“Could I interest you in everything all of the time? A little bit of everything all of the time Apathy's a tragedy, and boredom is a crime Anything and everything all of the time Could I interest you in everything all of the time? A little bit of everything all of the time Apathy's a tragedy, and boredom is a crime Anything and everything all of the time”

You rambled on as the phone shook in your hands violently.

“Not very long ago, just before your time Right before the towers fell, circa '99 This was catalogs, travel blogs, a chatroom or two We set our sights and spent our nights waiting for you! You, insatiable you Mommy let you use her iPad; you were barely two And it did all the things we designed it to do Now, look at you! Oh, look at you! You, you! Unstoppable, watchable Your time is now, your inside's out, honey, how you grew And if we stick together, who knows what we'll do? It was always the plan to put the world in your hand”

You let out a weak smiling, remembering all the good memories that you had almost forgotten. They almost faded in the back of your head and lost.

Could I interest you in everything all of the time? A bit of everything all of the time Apathy's a tragedy, and boredom is a crime Anything and everything all of the time Could I interest you in everything all of the time? A little bit of everything all of the time Apathy's a tragedy, and boredom is a crime Anything and everything and anything and everything And anything and everything and All of the time

[fickle-tiction]

Gotham’s Ticklish Prince

This started out as a headcanon, and then it spiraled out of control. You’re welcome.

  ~~

One day Bruce Wayne makes headlines. This isn’t surprising, or even noteworthy. He’s always making headlines for some silly nonsense he does as Bruce, to draw attention away from Batman. What is surprising is when he walks into the Hall of Justice and sees his face smiling back at him from about 10 different magazines strewn all over the meeting table.

Specifically, he sees himself curling inwards, eyes crinkled, nose scrunched, mouth stretched into a wide surprised smile as Mike, his date to last night’s gala, stands behind him. Thankfully, Mike’s hands are out of frame so no one can tell from the picture that he’s squeezing Bruce’s sides from behind.

“Oh look.” Arthur says, coming out of nowhere with a shit eating grin on his face. “Gotham’s Ticklish Prince decided to show his face.”

If Bruce didn’t have years of training and self discipline under his belt he would have flushed.

A Different magazine comes flying at him and smacks him in the stomach before he can even blink. Bruce catches it on reflex and looks down, only to be met with the headline “Gotham’s Ticklish Prince Has A New Squeeze” and, to his internal horror, it shows a picture snapped about two seconds after the first one. Bruce is clearly laughing in delight as Mike squeezes his sides, in full view of the camera. Several smaller pictures are beneath it, catching Bruce as he latches onto Mikes hands, turns and leans in close to tell him to stop. He didn’t have to flip to page 4, where the story apparently continued, to know what other pictures they surely got. Mike hadn’t stopped after one squeeze, and Bruce was too into character, and for once too unaware of any paparazzo nearby, to make him stop.

He knew he should have skipped the gala last night. Getting only 3 hours of sleep over the course of 4 nights and then slipping into his Bruce persona was always risky. Normally the two whiskies he had wouldn’t affect him at all, but the exhaustion plus the fact that he liked this Mike guy and was feeling comfortable and loose, clearly created a perfect storm. He remembered Mike sneaking up on him, he remember his guard being down just enough for it to catch him unawares and cause a reaction. He remembered how good it felt, but he won’t be letting himself go there. No. No thank you.

What he didn’t remember was the paparazzi being right there.

Or what would happen when those pictures surfaced at HQ.

Bruce finally looked up from the front cover of the Gotham Globe and was met with identical smirks from Arthur and Clark. Well, that explained the newspaper smacking him in the stomach earlier.

“It’s a character.” Bruce said, voice flat as he tossed the magazine onto the conference table. It wouldn’t help his situation if he tried to throw it out or look like he was hiding something.

“Right.” Clark didn’t sound like he was buying it at all. “So you knew you were being recorded. That’s why you put on such a convincing act.”

Recorded?

Recorded?!

Again, Bruce didn’t outwardly react at the news, but inside he was curling into a ball, ready to wither and die at any second. They fucking got that on video?

Naturally, the huge screen on the wall clicks on at the moment, showing a video of Bruce doing something on his phone. He had actually been playing some asinine game as he waited for Mike to come back from the bathroom. Bruce Wayne couldn’t be caught doing anything more than slicing up fruit on his phone, after all.

“I see Victor’s here.” Bruce says dryly, as though his eyes aren’t glued to the screen. His face remains impassive, but inside he’s once again screaming for his past self to turn around as Mike comes into frame behind him. He’s so busy watching Mike smirk and start sneaking up behind him (and, really, how did he not notice this last night? The guy is being so damn obvious about it.) that he doesn’t notice Clark and Arthur inching closer to him on either side.

Bruce feels a hand latch onto either of his sides just as Mike reaches forward and does the same on camera. Thankfully, Bruce’s guard has been up since he first saw his goofy face smiling back at himself when he walked into the room, so he does nothing more than cock an eyebrow and look at first Arthur, and then Clark.

“It’s a character.” He repeats, ignoring the staccato squeezing at one of his worst spots.

“I’m not going to react like he does, even though this tickles like hell. Bruce Wayne is an airheaded goof ball. Batman might be ticklish, but he doesn’t let it show--what the fuck?!” Bruce looked down to see a glittering gold rope wrapped innocently around his ankle. “Diana! What the hell?! I’m going to--” He cut off, clamping his mouth shut as he felt words trying to spill out. Words he most definitely did not want to say in the present company.

“Going to what, Brucie?” Diana asked, smirking as she held the lasso of truth in her hand. Bruce glared daggers at her, lips clamped tightly even as the squeezing on his sides turned to wiggling fingers and, to his horror, he felt his resolve breaking. 

“I’m--” Bruce huffed, biting his lower lip to keep from both speaking and laughing. “--I’m going--” His mouth was trying to curve into a smile, but Bruce was nothing if not stubborn and refused to let it happen.

“We’ve almost got him.” Arthur smirked, venturing a little lower and pinching just above Bruce’s hipbone. 

Clark noticed the jolt that caused and immediately followed suit on his side.

“I’m-Going-To-Pretend-To-Hate-all-of-you-to-keep-up-my-image.” Bruce was forced to say, as he finally caved and latched onto Arthur and Clark’s hands. Not that it did him any good. He might be The Batman, but outside of his suit he didn’t stand a chance against Superman, Aquaman and Wonder Woman, if she decided to get more hands on.

“You don’t actually hate it, do you.” Clark marveled, giving that spot above his hipbone another gentle pinch. Thank God for his super hearing, because without it he probably would have missed the squeak Bruce let out.

“I-” Again, Bruce was trying to clamp his mouth shut, but it wasn’t very effective since his mouth was stretched into a wide grin. “I have an image to maintain!” It was supposed to come out as a growl, but instead it sounded more like a whine as Bruce’s dam broke and laughter started pouring out of him.

“Well, if you’re trying to maintain the Ticklish Prince of Gotham image, you’re doing a fantastic job.” Arthur mocked him, now fluttering his fingers up and down Bruce’s side rapidly. 

Bruce was lost to the laughter, something that hasn’t happened to him since he was a kid. He began backing up, trying to back away from the tickling fingers flying furiously up and down both sides of his body. Absently, he noted that Diana must have let him go because he didn’t trip over the lasso as he tried to get away. He did, however, back himself into the wall without realizing it since his eyes were squeezed shut as he tried to contain the wild laughter pouring out  of him.

“Fahahahack!” Bruce cursed himself as Clark and Arthur boxed him in, each still tickling away. Clark was now experimenting with Bruce’s stomach while Arthur, the bastard, was worming his way under Bruce’s arm. 

They let him try to defend himself for a minute, wordlessly taunting him as they both danced around his arms with half-hearted attempts to get at his armpits. Finally, Arthur spoke up. “Clark, do you mind doing something about these?” He asked, tracing his fingertips gently up and down Bruce’s forearms. Bruce was well and truly gone if even that tickled like hell.

“Wha-” Bruce asked, laughter starting to die down as he got a short break. He cracked his eyes open, realizing for the first time he had been hunched in on himself, arms clamped down tightly, trying to protect as much of his sides as he could. 

“Oh, it’d be my pleasure.” Clark grinned. Lightening fast, he grabbed up Bruce’s wrists in one strong hand and pinned them to the wall above his head. Bruce’s eyes widened comically, too far gone to have any hope of controlling his facial features.

“Hey now.” He said, voice breathy as caught his breath. “You’ve had your fun.” Instead of the gravely voice they’d come to expect, Bruce’s voice was closer to that of his alter ego Bruce Wayne’s now. Nearly high pitched, and just short of panicky as he flexed his arms against the steel grip they were in.

“Tell me Bruce,” Arthur started, fingers slowly crawling up his ribs towards their destination. Bruce’s nerves immediately jumped to attention because they were already so worked up. “Are your armpits ticklish?”

Bruce tried to glare at him, even as his muscles twitched beneath Arthur’s fingers and his mouth started curving into another grin.

“Diana left.” Clark added, grinning at the man he had pinned to the wall. “And she took her lasso with her. I guess we’ll have to find out for ourselves.”

“Fuck.” Was the last coherent thing Bruce said for quite a while.

When Clark and Arthur finally let him go, he slumps to the floor in an exhausted heap and marvels at the last time he laughed that much (The answer: never.) or the last time he felt this exhausted without getting his ass whooped, or whooping someone else’s.

Once he’s regained some of his dignity, Bruce goes to the security feed with the intention of deleting the last hour of footage. He surprised to find it’s already gone, the tapes spliced seamlessly, with only a minor blip to show anything is missing. 

Victor, naturally, saved the entire thing to his personal servers. Just in case.

[buckys-other-punk]

Hold on..THIS IS YOU?!

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Reader

Request: where she is a fanfic writer and Sebastian stumbles upon her blog and messaged her as well not letting her know who he was but being an open person she is as to who she was, sending pictures and all, and until one day, decides to meet with her and she is surprised that it was the one she was writing for?

Word Count: 3.6K

Warnings: fluff, sarcasm (of course) and cussing? i think that’s all

A/N: Hello my lovelies. I am sorry I haven’t been posting as much, but that’s usually how I roll..no jk I legit had no time to write because of my classes this semester, so if this sucks I’m sorry lol. I’m still trying to get back into my writing groove...Also don’t mind my minor mistakes 😅

A/N 2: Anyways I AM BACK AND this is my first request ever!! I’m so excited to write this, I am soo sorry this took forever, but hope I did your request justice and that you like it (and so do others). I feel like I wrote this kinda cheesy, but whatever.

[Y/B/N = your blog name]

As always lemme know if you wanna be tagged in my future works and feedback is very much appreciated. Enjoy! <3

Just another normal day without stress and a less anxiety filled world...no, today was actually awful. You were swamped with work and your best friend was complaining about her boyfriend. Let’s just say that the stress she was having with him was making you feel happy that you were single. Trying to relax you heated up some coffee (a/n: or tea) and sat on the couch of your small apartment. Grabbing your laptop you wanted to unwind reading. Probably some fanfics on Tumblr usually does the trick. 

After reading some pretty good marvel related fics by your mutuals, you got inspired to write some fics yourself. Opening up a new tab you began writing about your favorite actor, Sebastian Stan. That man literally makes your miserable day a little better. Sadly, like all the girls and women who fantasize over him, he doesn’t know you. But, whatever right? You can always use your imagination and conjure up a make believe world where the two of you are happily engaged and have a German Shepard puppy named Stitch. Shaking your head to clear your thoughts, you opened another tab on your laptop to pull up your writing playlist, you began typing away on your keyboard writing a new AU where you’re the celebrity of the world you were creating and he was a huge fan of you. After you finished your new fic, you posted that immediately without edits because you were so excited to see people read it.

*across town*

“Have you guys ever read any fanfiction about your characters or yourselves?” the interviewer asked the pair.

“You know I’ve seen a few that were quite impressive. These writers are damn creative.” Anthony replied with a smile. “I will also not lie. I’ve read a few steamy ones and y’all are dirty.” he added with a slight disgusted face shaking his head towards the camera.

“What about you Sebastian? Have you read any?” the interviewer lady asked, looking over to the man.

“Honestly. I haven’t.” Sebastian chuckled looking back at her. “Maybe, if Mackie here finds a good one about me I’ll give it a read.” shrugging towards his friend.

“Oh man, I got a few that are worth reading.” Mackie laughed, rubbing his hands together.

“Hey, might as well share them with the world. Let’s give that writer a shout out!” she exclaimed, placing her notecards on her lap.

“Well, like I’ve said I’ve only read a bit, but I do have some blogs that I’ve saved. Maybe next time I’ll name drop a few and give fans some well deserved praise.” Anthony smiled looking at the two.

“Alright, well you better have a huge list for me.” the lady said with a smile looking at Anthony. “Thank you both again for your time. For everyone watching Falcon and the Winter Soldier comes out in March 2021.” She finished off the interview smiling and waving at the camera and the two men followed her actions as well. Once the cameras and mics were turned off the lady came back to the two men.

“Thank you again guys for your time” the lady said to the pair shaking their hands (a/n: ok let's pretend there is no corona in this world so yeah. Everyone is healthy and so is the world!). The two replied with a simple you’re welcome and another thanks in return.

“Wait, have you really read fanfiction before?” Sebastian asked his co-star as the pair walked towards their manager, who was waiting for them outside the room, getting their schedule for the pair’s next interview.

“I mean yeah. I got curious on what people were writing about us and our characters.” Anthony responded with a shrug looking down at his phone.

“Aren’t most of those like fifty shades of grey?” Sebastian asked, staring at his friend as stood near their manager.

“Only if you want them to be..” Mackie stared at his friend with a blank face as they came to an abrupt stop. “Nah man, I’m just playing. Some of them are steamy, others can be sad, like crazy sad and some are like tooth rotting cute. Like I recently read one that was with Captain America and this original character that the author came up with and it made me say ‘aww’ when I finished it. Me. A grown man said ‘aww’ after reading a fanfic. A FANFIC!” he added. Their manager quickly explained their schedule and walked them over to their car to head off to the next location. The two were seated at the back, while their manager sat next to the driver.

“You know what. Send me that story you read.” Sebastian said to Anthony.

“Are you sure Seb?” Anthony asked with a chuckle.

“Yeah, why not.” he replied with a shrug. “Might as well read a good story before our next interview.”

“Alright let me send it to you right now. Honestly I think this writer is one of my favorites. I don’t know if it's her writing style or how she portrays our characters, but she’s amazing.” Mackie said with a smile getting the fic he recently read and sending it to his friend. 

“So all her stories are good?” Sebastian asked, looking at the notification.

“I just said that she is my favorite writer.” Anthony looked at his friend with a ‘are you serious face.’ 

“Okay. Okay.” Seb said with his arms up in defense. After a few minutes of reading the fanfic Sebastian actually said ‘aww’ aloud just like Mackie after he first read the story.

“It was good wasn’t it.” Anthony asked with a toothy grin.

“Yeah this was really good. Y/B/N is a pretty good writer.” Sebastian said looking through your feed.

“You should tell her!” Anthony exclaimed.

“What, like make an account?” Seb asked.

“Well yeah, but I mean not your actual name of course. Make a fan account. Show these writers your appreciation, I know that if I were an author I would love that (a/n: wink wink). I’ve messaged a few writers complimenting their work without actually telling them who I am.” Anthony said, placing his hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“I’m gonna read more stuff from her before I message her.” Sebastian chuckled. Sebastian clicked onto your main blog page to find that you had just posted a new fic about him. “Wait, dude she just posted a new story...About me!” Sebastian exclaimed, showing his phone to Anthony. 

“Nice, but we have to finish these interviews. You gotta read it during your free time man, sorry to crush your dreams.” he chuckled, unbuckling his seat belt and getting out of the car. Sebastian sighed and followed his co-stars actions getting out of the car and continuing the rest of his day filled with interviews.

*later that evening*

After the interviews Anthony and Sebastian had dinner together at a fancy restaurant. During their dinner they talked about how crazy some interviews were. Sebastian brought up the subject of how Mackie publicly announced that he had read fanfiction. With that still stuck in his mind the two finished their meal and after parting ways. Sebastian took a cab and arrived at his apartment, changed out of his fancy suit to some comfy clothes and grabbed a bottle of water from his fridge. He walked over to his couch turning on the tv, not really paying attention to what was playing, grabbing his phone he opened the tumblr app finally creating an account.

*one week later*

Sebastian has read almost all of your works and texting Anthony almost every time after he has finished a new fic giving his reactions to each. He has liked and reblogged everything he has read from you and other writers, but he favors your stuff the most.

Mackie: dude you should tell her you like her stuff and stop texting me!

Seb: Alright I will, I just don't know what to say.

Mackie: Just say you like her work. It's as simple as that.

Seb: okay okay I will

Mackie: ok good, no stop texting my its legit 2 am

Seb: fine

Sebastian opened up the messaging area of the app and began typing away his appreciation to you. He didn’t know why he felt so nervous after he pressed send. Getting out of the app completely he tried to focus on whatever was playing on the tv. Then all of a sudden he heard a notification go off and his phone light up. Looking down on it he saw that it was a notification from you. Again his nervousness took place as he unlocked his phone to read the notification. The app opened and the direct message filled his phone screen.

(a/n: this is my first time using a fake dm thingy so just imagine that Seb is following you)

Seb: Holy shit dude, she actually replied back to me!

Mackie: Well of course she did, she's not a robot. But maybe she is since she’s up so late...

Seb: shut up and why are you still up? I though you were mad at me for texting you

Mackie: well you woke me up so what am i supposed to do

Seb: whatever I’ll let you go

Mackie: alright. bye lover boy 

Sebastian shook his head at the text, he went back to the app to reply back to you. “What should I say?” he said to himself. “Maybe she’s in a different time zone or lives across the world or something… Okay okay. Maybe be chill and say I hope i didn’t wake you? No that sounds weird.” he shook his head trying to come up with something to say. Eventually he fell asleep trying to think of what to say to you.

*the next morning/later that day*

Sebastian woke up with his phone gone from his hand. He quickly got out of his bed in panic to look for it. Maybe you had said something to him or he had said something dumb to you. Once he found his phone he quickly unlocked it to check and thank god he didn’t say anything stupid. But he didn’t say anything. He shook his head clearing his thoughts. “Alright I think I know what to say.”

Y/N’s POV

You woke up to the sound of cars honking, groaning you looked at your clock. “How is it already 10 am?” you said aloud to nobody in particular. You sat up on your bed and grabbed your phone scrolling through various social media apps. At the top of your screen you saw a notification from tumblr. Opening the app to the notifications section, you noticed it was a blog that had messaged you from earlier in the morning.

sebstan_fan: Nice to meet you Y/N. I’m Carter. I don’t know where you live, but I just woke up and had a dream about one of your fics. (wow I hope that didn’t sound creepy)

You smiled at the message, since you loved interacting with your followers.

y/b/n: haha its ok. I actually live near New York City and I also woke up. What was your dream about? (if i can ask)

Sebastian’s POV

Sebastian had just finished taking a shower and began preparing his late breakfast. “Holy shit she replied again!” he said to himself looking at the message.

sebstan_fan: Wait, you live near NYC! Me too! Wow such a small world. But anyways my dream was honestly just a reenactment of your fic.

y/b/n: that’s so crazy how we live near each other lol. But that's so cool how you dreamt about my work. You must have really liked it.

sebstan_fan: yeah it was really interesting how you wrote such a life like scenario.

y/b/n: thank you Carter <3

sebstan_fan: ok I now this is random, but what’s your favorite place to eat in New York?

y/b/n: ooh that’s tough. Let’s go with Lombardi’s since its the very first pizza place to open in the US

sebstan_fan: oh wow an excellent choice :)

*a couple weeks later*

You and your new tumblr friend have been talking about one another’s favorite hobbies and interests for the past few weeks. You feel like you have grown a new connection with your new friend and telling them about your shitty days at work. Today your best friend wanted to bring you with her and her boyfriend to some fancy restaurant. 

y/b/n: Carter, I’m practically third wheeling with her and her boyfriend. 

sebstan_fan: well that sounds awful. Where is she taking you?

y/b/n: idk to some fancy restaurant I’ve never heard of. Anyways she’s making me wear fancy clothes, but I just wanna wear my pajamas!

sebstan_fan: y/n come on. you gotta dress nice if other people are dressing nice too 

y/b/n: ughh ok I think I found something nice. *sends picture of yourself in an elegant dress* what about this?

Seb’s POV

Sebastian got a glass of water and sat back down on his couch. Unlocking his phone to see the new dm from you he spit his water out of his mouth wetting the coffee table in front of him. “HOLY SHIT SHE’S GORGEOUS!” he yelled aloud staring at his phone in awe of your beauty.

sebstan_fan: Y/N, you look amazing! That dress is literally making you glow!

y/b/n: stop you’re making me blush..my friend just pulled up. I’ll dm you later once this stupid night is over. 

sebstan_fan: alright have fun 

y/b/n: <3

Sebastian quickly called Mackie to tell him that you sent him a photo of yourself. 

“Dude, she is unbelievably gorgeous. I actually spit my water out all over my coffee table when I saw the picture. ” Sebastian said on the phone.

“Man you are so obsessed with her, it's kinda creepy.” Anthony replied through the phone.

“What? No man, we just clicked. We have a bunch in common and she’s really easy to talk to.” Sebastian gushed to his friend.

“Yeah, but she doesn’t know that you’re lying to her about your real identity. You’re like fucking Superman with a secret persona!” Anthony snickered at the man on the other line.

“Dude no, but I’ll tell her eventually that I’m me.” Seb replied back to Anthony.

“Well you better do it soon because I’m tired of hearing about you gushing over this woman.” Anthony huffed under his breath. “Anyways I gotta go so bye bitch.” 

Sebastian laughed at his friend hanging up the phone and heading to his room getting ready for bed. As he laid on his bed he couldn’t take his mind off of you in that dress. You were so open with sharing your life to him, a complete stranger, yet he couldn’t do the same.

*the next day*

y/b/n: Carter! I forgot to dm you once I got home, but that dinner was terrible. I hated every minute of it.

sebstan_fan: what happened? Also good morning :)

y/b/n: good morning, sorry if I woke you. But anyways my best friend and her boyfriend brought some dude to make it a double date and the guy was a complete douche. I couldn’t stand a minute being there.

sebstan_fan: damn I’m sorry to hear that. I bet if I was there with you the night wouldn’t have been so bad haha

y/b/n: creepy..jk But I bet we would have completely ditched my friend and her boyfriend lol

sebstan_fan: wait, I got an idea! I mean since we live around the same area why don’t we meet!

y/b/n: what like in person?

sebstan_fan: no through zoom, yes in person!

y/b/n: wow the sarcasm in this one, but that sounds like a lovely idea. I feel like I already know so much about you tho...

Sebastian huffed under his breath, “not everything.”

sebstan_fan: lol yeah but it’ll be different to meet in person. Anyways where should we meet?

y/b/n: lol that’s true. Well I know this small cafe that’s so cute and I heard they have pretty good pastries. It would be awesome to meet there :D

sebstan_fan: alright how about Saturday afternoon? You don’t have work right?

y/b/n: nope I’m off! but that sounds good to me! I’m so excited and nervous at the same time. Like what if you’re some creepy stalker...

Sebstan_fan: why would you accuse me of such a thing?!

y/b/n: lol you know i’m just messing with you. But I gotta go my friend is now calling me, probably about that douche from last night...but I can’t wait to see you Carter!<3

“Yeah, me too.” Sebastian said to himself smiling.

*Saturday*

You sat at the cafe where you told your new tumblr friend to meet you. You ordered a drink and once it was finished, you grabbed it and sat near the windows saving a seat for Carter. As you waited you pulled out your laptop and began on typing away a new fic idea drawing inspiration from the small cafe and the gloomy weather outside. 

“I’m sorry that seat’s taken...” you muttered to a man who pulled out the chain next to you, looking up at the figure. “Holy shit!” you exclaimed to the man who sat next to you.

“Shhhh...Please don’t say anything.” Sebastian whispered to you, sitting on the chair next to you and taking off his sunglasses.

“What? But how? You’re!? I can’t breathe.” you exclaimed erratically looking down at your drink.

“Hey, hey Y/N, just calm down and take slow deep breaths.” he said calmly placing his hand on your back.

“How the fuck do you know my name?!” you exclaimed again staring wide eyed at the actor. “Am I getting pranked or something? Where are the cameras?!” you nervously laughed looking around the empty cafe.

“No, you’re not getting pranked. It’s me Carter…” he said quietly rubbing the back of his head.

“You’re Carter?! I thought you were a girl!” you said looking into the man’s blue eyes.

“I may have lied about who I was, but I wanted to meet you.” he started as he stared down at the ground. “I didn’t want you to freak out knowing that it was actually me.” he said looking back up at you.

“Let me just gather my thoughts for a sec.” you said, putting your hand to your temples.

“Wait, why did you assume I was a girl?” he asked with a smirk.

“I don’t know! Carter is a unisex name.” you frantically said with a shrug. “And I mean most of my followers are female, so I just assumed you were one too.” you added grabbing your drink and taking a sip to calm your nerves.

“That makes sense I guess.” he said chuckling, looking out the big window of the cafe.

“This is so crazy that you are here. Sitting next to me and talking about my stupid tumblr blog.” you uttered. “Like you’re famous!”

“Yeah so what.” he looked back to you. 

“I mean aren’t you busy filming and stuff?” you asked the man.

“Nope, we just wrapped up the interviews a couple of weeks ago. I’m on vacation.” he said with a toothy grin, which made you blush. “Aww look she’s blushing.” he said sweetly towards you.

“Shut up. It’s not like I get to meet my favorite actor who I’ve had a crush on since forever sitting next to me and casually conversing with.” you muttered quickly hoping he didn’t hear your profession of love for him.

“You got a crush on me?” he smiled at you.

“Fuck you. I do not!” you exclaimed looking away from him.

“Aww I think you do.” he said, nudging your shoulder.

“Whatever.” you said under your breath trying to hide your embarrassment.

“Hey, I’m in awe too.” he began, which made you look at him. “It’s not like I get to see a beautiful woman who I like.” he smirked at you.

“I think I’m dreaming. Did you just say you like me?!” you asked pinching yourself back into reality.

“I mean yeah. I really like your work as a writer and the past what month we’ve been talking I think you’re a really cool and sweet person.” he said now blushing. 

“I bet you say that to all the women you meet.” scoffing at his comment.

“No I’m serious Y/N. I think you’re a really talented writer. And I think you’re also really pretty.” again blushing, but this time he looked straight at you.

“Oh, wow. Thank you so much Sebastian.” you hesitated, your cheeks heating up. “That means a lot coming from you.” you smiled.

“Of course. And also I wanted to ask you in person if after coming clear about who I actually am, if you wanted to go out sometime. I know its weird and all sudden but-”

“Yes!” you exclaimed quickly cutting him off. “I mean. I would love to.” you said more calmly. “God, I’m trying so hard to keep my inner fangirl in.” you huffed under your breath. 

Sebastian laughed at your comment and then asked, “Alright then. What about tomorrow I take you out for dinner?” 

“That sounds delightful.” you smiled at the man. The two of you fell silent watching the people who passed by the small cafe.

“Oh, but can I ask you one more question? Why are you wearing a hat? And shades earlier? It's legit rainy and cloudy as hell outside.” you asked, looking at the man with your head resting on your hand.

“I’m going incognito. I don’t want my fans to recognize me.” he replied, taking a sip of his coffee.

“Are you embarrassed of them seeing you with me?” you hesitantly interrogated.

“No, I just don't want them to interrupt our first date.” he responded with a smirk looking at you.

“Wait, this is a date?!” you exclaimed with wide eyes.

“Only if you want it to be sweetheart.” Sebastian smirked, winking towards you.

“Fuck you.” You said with a smile.

A/N: Yay you finished! Was that good? bad? cheesy? lemme know lol Again if you wanna be tagged in future fics, have any requests or just wanna chat hit me up! Thank you guys for reading and I hope you get excited for more stuff to come.

Tags: @lostinthoughtsandfeelings @sebtheromanianprince​ @aquabrie @who-the-hell-is-sebastianstan​ @princess76179​ @anbrax5553​ @wintersoldierissucharide @caplanbuckybarnes​ @miraclesoflove​ @kitkatd7 @msgreenverse @saiyanprincessswanie​ @fandomsandxfiles @hailmary-yramliah @coffeebooksandfandom​ @thefallenbibliophilequote

^please lemme know if you wanna be added to future works or removed for tags^

[pagesoflauren]

The Highest Bidder Ch. 1 (Ransom Drysdale x reader; sugar daddy!AU)

Summary: A graduate-level education is a costly pursuit. When you move out of state to study in Boston, expenses pile up, leading you to auction off what is apparently your most valuable asset: your virginity. It goes to the highest bidder…who happens to be Ransom Drysdale.

There are no major spoilers for Knives Out. Consider this as an alternate timeline. There will be references to the movie/its characters and family dynamics revealed in the movie.

Warnings: loss of virginity, explicit sexual content/smut, angst, sugar daddy/baby arrangement, dark elements, dubcon, cliffhangers, minor spoilers for Knives Out, unprotected sex, irresponsible driving (don’t drink and drive!), swearing, Ransom is an asshole (more to add and if you spot any that I’ve missed, please kindly let me know!)

A/N: Huge disclaimer...I really didn’t want to end this chapter the way I did, but it was getting a little too long...but there’s more coming! Don’t worry, please don’t send an angry mob after me 😱  Big love to @threeminutesoflife and @caffiend-queen for beta-ing this for me! ❤️ One last thing about the text messages: Italics are sent messages and bold italics are received messages :)

This chapter is written under the assumption that the reader drinks alcohol.

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

With his bedroom illuminated by the flashing images of his television, Ransom lounged lazily in his bed. One hand was occupied with his phone as his thumb slowly scrolled over the screen, the other idly wrapped around his cock as he took in the images on the device. 

Various girls, all a few years younger than him, staring with false wide-eyed innocence or sprawled out provocatively across recliners on sandy beaches or by turquoise-watered pools. Their names or aliases were listed under the respective photos, with a number in green text next to it. 

Deciding there were too many options, Ransom scrolled back up, the hand on his cock pausing as he started setting filters through the search. He changed them to specific hair colors, skin tones and a more concentrated age range. The only filter he didn’t change was the prices--there was no limit there. The page refreshed and showed him more favorable faces. 

His mind started to numb and the faces started looking too similar. As he was ready to pack it in for the night and tuck himself back into his boxers, a strange listing catches his attention. 

He sees you, kneeling in the sand at an apparent topical destination in a barely-there bikini. Unlike the other girls, though, your face is candid, caught in a laugh, eyes crinkled and lips spread in joy. There’s no price. Just the letters “HB” in red text. 

He clicks on your photo and the webpage changes to your profile. There’s a few more photos of you: one with a cat, more vacation photos. Your location is convenient: Boston. Not too far from where he is. 

But all of that fails to answer the question at the forefront of Ransom’s mind: Why don’t you have a price next to your name?

He scrolls through a couple more meaningless pieces of information: a little blurb about who you are, your measurements, your race and your conditions.

One time only.

“What?” he wonders aloud, face scrunching in curiosity. Sugar babies don’t just have sex once and then walk away with a fortune. From what he’s heard, they bitch and moan but shut up when there’s a cock in their mouth (or pussy, for that matter). They need to be looked after either because they can’t afford it or can’t be bothered to do things on their own. Then, once he reaches the end of your profile, he understands. 

Virginity Auction. Current Bid: $8,250.

Ransom smirks at the prospect. He wasn’t looking for a virgin, but he likes the idea of taking one now. 

The number changes in real time, going up in five dollar increments before someone brings it up to $8,500. A pop-up window appears, warning him that if he’s interested, the auction ends at midnight. Ransom’s eyes flick to the top of his phone. It’s 11:57.

He thinks for a few ticks. If he pays you enough, he’ll have the convenience of entertaining himself between your legs and taking your virginity with no strings attached. Once that’s done, you’ll be out of his hair. He wouldn’t have to put you up, send you money or deal with your whining or complaining. 

Sounds like a good deal. 

Pressing his thumb into the blue button that says “Bid,” Ransom looks at the clock again. 11:58. 

Initially, he types in $10,000. But with two minutes to go and your price still ticking up, he doesn’t want to chance getting outbid by someone at the last second. He has to blow the other bidders out of the water. 

Sat up in your bed and wringing your hands nervously, you look at your cracked phone screen. Midnight has just passed and you’re waiting for a notification about the final bid in your auction. It started at $5,000 and in the week that the listing was posted, you had gotten notifications whenever it went to the next thousand. 

This isn’t how you wanted to lose your virginity. Ideally, you would have genuinely made love to somebody, someone your parents would have approved of and who truly cared for you. Even more ideally, it would have been the man who eventually became your husband...though you wouldn’t have waited until marriage to lose your V-card. You were about to take the next step in life and--you had to face it--you weren’t getting younger. 

What was the least ideal of it all was the fact that you were doing this out of pure desperation. Your graduate program was starting in a month and your savings were mostly gobbled up by application and testing fees. Living out of state didn’t help either; most of your money went to paying rent and commuting around the city. If someone paid you enough to tide your finances over, you could live off that money until the end of the semester, after adjusting to the program and your schedule, before taking on a job off campus. 

Your phone buzzed with an email from the website and you tapped the banner. Your email app launched and opened directly to the message. 

Your auction has ended. 

Reading further, you can’t believe what you see. 

Winning bid: $50,000 by Ransom Drysdale.

Fifty thousand dollars? Surely there must be a mistake. Why would someone pay ten times the starting bid? 

And Drysdale...where had you seen that name? 

Closing your eyes, you searched your recollection to place the name. It’s so familiar. 

Deciding your memory is unreliable, you resolve to a Google search of your highest bidder’s last name. 

The first result that pops up is a real estate company and a picture of famed author Harlan Thrombey, who apparently is the father of the woman who owns the business.

You feel faint...these names are not insignificant in Massachusetts, let alone the world. Harlan was a best-selling mystery writer--you had some of his books in your library back home. 

Then concern floods your brain: if this Linda Drysdale is Harlan Thrombey’s daughter, that makes Thrombey her maiden name. She must’ve married a Drysdale. 

Are you a pawn in some horrible cheating scandal? You must be, nobody has the name Ransom. It has to be an alias. Her husband must be looking for some young thing to get his rocks off. 

Stress causes your scalp to prickle as your phone buzzes again with a text message from the semi-mysterious Ransom, checking if it’s you, that he has the right number. 

Yes, you reply. 

The three dotted message bubble pops up before turning into another message.

Good. I’ve made a reservation at The Boxer in the city for Saturday. I told them you’ll check in. I told them not to charge you anything, but if you need to pay any fees, I’ll send you the money back. I’ll be there after 9. 

A chill runs down your spine at how direct he is. But, you suppose you can’t expect anything more from him. 

Okay, you acknowledge.

More dots, then another message.

Dress appropriately.

Despite your lack of experience in the bedroom, you know for a fact that he’s not referring to office attire. 

Settling back onto your pillow, you pull the covers over yourself and breathe slowly. You’ve got some preparation to do.

What do you bring with you when you’re planning to lose your virginity to a complete stranger in exchange for tuition money? 

Fuck all if you have a clue. 

You spent the days leading up to Saturday getting yourself ready. You bought a tight dress and pair of strappy heels from the sale racks. You cluelessly browsed for lingerie before an associate took pity on you (or just desperately wanted you out of her store, jury’s still out on that) and helped you select a lacy set complete with a garter and stockings. The associate absolutely gushed at how the color of the material complemented your skin tone, though you could care less. You forked over $120 for the damn thing and scampered out. Learning from your friends’ mistakes, you purchased a set of condoms using the self-checkout kiosk (and prayed you picked the right size). You weren’t instructed to buy condoms, but you figured you wouldn’t risk the chance of not having any. You endured a Brazilian wax, stifling profanities as the woman did her work. You also had trouble getting over your embarrassment; a stranger was going to see you bared all for him in a few days so if you can’t handle the wax lady seeing you, how could you handle “Ransom”?

Ransom.

Thinking about him did nothing for your nerves. You were certain you were going to lose your virginity to a man in his late 50s, who was married to Massachusetts’ biggest real estate mogul and the daughter of a renowned author. 

Dear God, what if she found out? Her father wrote murder mysteries, she had plenty of ways to kill you and get away with it. What if you weren’t even meeting “Ransom” and you were meeting Linda and she was going to kill you at the hotel?

You shake your head and look back down at the contents of your duffel bag: toiletries, a change of clothes for tomorrow, the condoms and your phone charger. You had created a playlist on your phone...if you weren’t going to lose your virginity to someone you loved, then maybe you could fake it with music. 

Who are you kidding? you chide yourself. 

You sigh and resolve to getting ready. After eating dinner, you strip off your old band t-shirt and sweatpants, remove your simple cotton underwear and novelty pineapple-patterned socks before discarding them into your laundry hamper. 

You shimmy into the lacy knickers, the material feeling quite uncomfortable against your skin. You clip the bra on next, followed by the garter around your waist.  Then you finish off with the stockings over your legs, stopping at mid-thigh. After fastening the clips on the suspenders to the lace trim at the top of the hosiery, you sit at your vanity to apply some makeup and fix your hair. 

“‘Dress appropriately’,” you mutter as you pull your dress from your tiny closet, “Hopefully this is appropriate enough.”

You maneuver yourself into your dress, struggling with the zipper for a moment then smoothing the material over yourself. You slide your feet into your heels and teeter a bit as you stand up. 

You’re not planning to really impress too much, so you pull on a downy, puffy jacket to combat the sea breeze the city gets in the evenings. 

Pulling the strap of your bag onto your shoulder, you look in the mirror one last time. You catch the reflection of the clock: it’s almost seven thirty. Taking into account how long it’ll take for your rideshare to arrive at your house and the traffic in the city on a Saturday night, you’ll arrive at the hotel a little after eight. You suppose now’s a good a time as any to leave. 

Requesting a car for pickup, you realize there’s no going back. 

Stepping into the hotel lobby, you know you don’t belong here. 

With modern touches and old architectural charm, the men wearing luxury tailored suits and women wearing unaffordable dresses, you felt you stood out like a sore thumb. The most luxurious hotel you had stayed at was a Holiday Inn Express near Disneyland. And it barely had functioning lighting. 

You timidly approach the front desk. Though the receptionist gives you a warm smile, you’re not comforted. 

“Hi, I’m here to check in for Drysdale?”

The man’s eyebrows raise in what you assume is recognition. 

Maybe this “Ransom” meets other escorts here often, then.

“While we would normally ask you to cover the fees upon checking in, Mr. Drysdale is a very good friend of the hotel so we’ve accommodated his request to make an exception,” the man informs you as he types away. He grabs a keycard and hands it to you. 

“You’ll be in room 6-F. Have a pleasant stay.”

“Thank you,” you say meekly, taking the card before turning to take an elevator up. 

Once on the sixth floor, you locate and unlock the room. The lights turn on automatically and you’re met with a cool gray toned room, which gives the room a darker atmosphere already. 

The entrance is narrow and you assume the bathroom is on the other side of the wall on your right. With wobbly steps, you move forward and see the room open up. 

The first thing you notice is the king-sized bed. Beyond it, the windows show illuminated facades of buildings outside. On the wall opposite the bed is a desk with a speaker and aux cord on top of the marble workspace and a fridge underneath. A TV is mounted on the wall above the desk. Next to it is an open wardrobe with a bathrobe hanging, cubbies and drawers, as well as a tray of refreshments. 

You set your bag on the bottom shelf of the wardrobe and retrieve the remote to turn on the TV to create some white noise and maybe kill some time (and nerves) as you wait for nine o’clock to come around. 

You wander into the bathroom and look yourself over in the mirror. You shake out your hands and pace, deciding to take off your heels for now as you pad around the room. 

Ransom was bored of dinner and his host knew it. Everyone else kept a level of decorum, but all the guests knew this get together was extending much longer than necessary. 

Checking his watch, it was quarter to nine. He threw back the rest of his drink before nodding to his friend and exchanging brief glances as he got up. Haphazard goodbyes were thrown his way as he pulled on his jacket and Ransom gave a nod of acknowledgement. He exits the restaurant, whistling to get the valet’s attention and handing the man his ticket as he pulls out his phone. 

Where are you? he messages you. 

At the hotel, sir. Room 6-F. 

“‘Sir’,” he muses to himself, smirking at the title you’d given him. He didn’t even need to tell you to address him that way. 

Have them bring up my usual from the bar.

Yes, sir.

Wondering how far he can take this, he asks you to send him a picture. 

He’s surprised with how quickly you comply. You’re sat on top of the sheets at the edge of the bed, leaned forward so your elbow can rest on your knee and the camera can get a view of the plunging neckline of your dress. Your hair falls nicely over your face and your palm cradles your chin. 

He can’t lie, he loves the way you look. You may as well be the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. 

Taking a few deep breaths, he wills himself to calm down; he can’t get hard yet. 

He puts his phone into one pocket and reaches into the other as the valet returns with his car. When the valet approaches, Ransom hands over a few sad, crumpled bills as a tip before walking around to the driver’s side of his car and climbing in. Sending one last message to you, he pulls away from the curb and heads to the hotel. 

I’m on my way. Make sure my drink is there before me.

You let out a spastic sound of nervousness and shook out your hands again before getting up to pace around the room again. 

The drink was on the way, you placed the order as soon as he told you to. You didn’t want to give him any excuse to not pay or complain you were unsatisfactory. Though, not having any experience in bed might prove that mission to be difficult regardless of whether or not his drink came in time. 

There’s a knock on the door and you jog over, pulling the door open to find a waiter holding a tray with a glass of what you assume is Scotch perched on top, covered with one of those signature little hats hotels always place on top of glasses. 

“Thank you,” you smile, carefully receiving the glass from him. He bows silently and turns to leave. 

You shut the door and place the glass on a coaster you find on the desk. You bother yourself with where the glass should rest (next to the speaker? on the far end, closest to the wardrobe?). Deciding it should be on the bedside table, you move the glass and coaster there then return to the desk to plug your phone in and play some music. You cringe at your choice to include Ed Sheeran in this playlist, but there’s no going back now. 

Suddenly, you hear the clicking sound of the door unlocking and you scramble over to sit on the bed to put your heels on. 

When you look up, you’re shocked to not find a man in his late 50s, nor the severe looking woman you’ve seen plastered on real estate posters. 

You find a man who can’t be that much older than you, dark hair and blue eyes that stand out in the dim light of the entry hallway. His cheeks are pale and rosy, framed by a strong jawline. He’s tall, crown of his head so high towards the ceiling. His broad shoulders nearly touch either side of the walls as he approaches you. 

He’s dressed rather casually, as if he was out to dinner with friends. The color palette of his outfit matches the hotel room: cool gray henley shirt, black blazer and jeans, finished off with a pair of brown boots and belt to match. If you’re honest, he looks like a model. He looks like he could have any woman he wanted. 

Why the hell does he want a virgin?

When he comes to stand in the room, hands tucked into his pockets, he looks you up and down from where you’re seated. His lips pucker thoughtfully and you see how perfectly pink and full they are and you wonder what it would be like to kiss them...

Nope. We’re not doing that. It’s a one time thing and that’s that. You remind yourself.

His eyes catch the glass on the bedside table and he plucks it up, removing the paper covering before bringing it to his lips to drink.

When the glass is halfway to his mouth, he hooks a finger at you. “Stand up.”

As he drinks, you obey, rising from your place on the mattress and smoothing down your dress before folding your hands together. 

He pauses his sipping, “Turn.” 

Hands falling out of each other’s grip, they land at your sides rather limply and you begin turning, giving him a three-sixty view of your body. You feel heat creeping up your neck and settling into your cheeks. 

When you come back to face him, he throws his head back to finish his drink and places the glass back on the bedside table, but he misses the coaster. You cringe inwardly at the ring that will surely form on the surface later. 

Your breath catches in your throat when your eyes meet his. You feel like a deer in headlights, unmoving as his gaze continues to flit over your figure. You wonder if he knows you’re holding your breath. You wonder if he can hear how quickly your heart is pounding. 

When he goes to take off his jacket, things start feeling real. You don’t know how to describe the sound that leaves your throat, maybe something a frightened toad would make. Ransom halts and throws you a perplexed look and you cover your mouth in embarrassment. 

He rolls his eyes. “You nervous?”

The words blend together, but his voice is so honeyed and silken and you can’t help but sigh inwardly at the sound of it. 

Your jaw is slack and can’t make any sounds rise from your larynx. You snap your mouth shut and manage to nod stiffly. 

Rolling his eyes again, he crosses the room to the mini fridge under the desk and pulls the door open. Crouching down, he shuffles through the various little bottles inside before turning and tossing one to you. 

Your balance teeters as you fumble to catch it, the glass slipping out of your grip a few times before you fully grasp it.

The cap makes a cracking sound as it separates from the tamper evident band when you twist it open. You don’t bother to look at the label or pay any mind to the color of the liquid. Once the bottle’s open, you tilt your head back and drink, feeling the burn travel down your throat. When you stop, you notice you’ve had almost all of it. 

Your eyes meet Ransom’s again and he raises his brows as if to ask, Better?

You finish the remaining contents of the bottle and feel the liquid settle in your belly as you twist the cap back on.

“Thank you,” you muster your voice to say. 

His eyebrows raise again, showing his disinterest, and he holds his hand out. You’re certain you resemble a child when you use both hands to carefully place the bottle in his hands. There’s a flicker of confusion that crosses his face and you think you were meant to place your hand in his, but he turns and places the bottle on the desk. 

There’s a sense of dread that settles in your stomach when you realize there really is no going back and no more stalling. You can’t read the expression on his face, but you’re certain he’s not pleased with how slowly this is going. 

Summoning your courage, you reach your hands up behind you and begin to pull the zipper down...

Permatag: @caffiend-queen @fckdeusername @lou-la-lou

Chris tag: @onetwo3000 @patzammit

Ransom tag: @jeremyrennermakesmesmile

Highest Bidder Taglist: @sapphirescrolls @just-another-wretched-egg @ladynightshade30 @angstsfordays @icanfeelastormbrewing @buckysteveloki-me @what-is-your-plan-today @iloganjade @twittytelly @xoxabs88xox @an-awkward-human-1 @fanfiction-trashpile @jtargaryen18 @donutloverxo @meaganottiz02 @princess-evans-addict @kianifan @asiaaisa77 @kelbabyblue @my-emotional-self @saiyanprincessswanie @random-things-i-love @captainchrisstan @daughterofthenight117 @buchanansebba @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @andiebell2023 @avengerraven1023 @dahkness @thatonefangirl111 @sllooney @sheerfreesia007 @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @suzieqsez @farremoved @edge-ofparadise @bellaireland1981​

A note about tags: If your name is crossed out, I couldn’t tag you for some reason. While comments asking for me to tag you are okay, it is much easier for me to keep track of my tag lists if you send an ask. That’s the sure fire way to guarantee I’ll tag you. 

Additionally, if I forgot to tag you, please gently remind me via my ask box.

[curiousconch]

Lions on the Prowl

Chapter 7 of Ricochet (An Open Heart AU)

Catch up here: Series Masterlist

Chapter Synopsis: Bryce and Rafael go on the hunt to unravel the sinister truth, hoping that what is revealed leads to Heather.

Pairing: Rafael Aveiro x MC (Dr. Heather Song) | Bryce Lahela x MC (Dr. Heather Song)

Words: 1.8k+ | Genre: Crime, Suspense/Thriller, Romance

Rating/Warnings: Mature (16+) / language, violence

Author's Notes: As promised, here's chapter 7. It has minor references to canon, but I did some tweaks to fit the overall storyline. Thank you so much for taking time to read this series. Please let me know if you want me to include/remove you in the tags list. Also, disclaimer: Majority of the characters are owned by Pixelberry, except the main character Heather Song and an OC Jordan Anderson.

Bryce slipped his phone into the pocket of his suit after his call with Rafael. He got into his car and punched the coordinates of his destination, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel as he waited for the GPS to load. Once he heard the first set of directions, he turned on the ignition and drove off. As the miles went by, he began to map out his strategy to interrogate the person who started it all - Travis Perry.

After half an hour, he was let into the maximum security facility. He went through the strict visitor SOP before he was led into a small room, devoid of anything cheerful. He tried his best to shake off the inherent thoughts he had about Heather's current situation, focusing instead at the matter at hand. Several minutes passed before he heard a click and the door opened, revealing a dank and skinny figure.

When Travis realized who was visiting, he rolled his eyes.

Bryce watched as he sat down while his handcuffs was hooked at a protruding hole in the center of the table. He waited for the guard to step outside before he leaned forward, switching into full-on lawyer mode.

"You better tell me what you know now, Perry."

Travis smirked, looking ominous.

"Desperate much, are you, ADA Lahela?" he leaned back, slouching. "Why come to me so early on in the game?"

The answer was easy, he was desperate. Every passing minute that Heather was missing reduces the possibility of finding her alive. He knew that much. And Bryce was willing to risk anything to see her breathing again. Even endangering his career or his dignity.

"You know very well why I'm here, Travis," his fingers ran up his blue tie, loosening it a little, hoping that he was playing his cards right. Bryce knew Perry's confidence came from the knowledge that he had nothing left to lose. He can't put him at fault though, his sentence were pretty much signed, sealed and delivered. However, the ADA didn't expect him to give up anything without a fight. He was the criminal who attempted to kill a senator, after all. So he came prepared.

Bryce shook his head, sneering back, a finger pressed lightly on his chin.

"Travis, Travis, Travis..." he stood up, circling around the prisoner like a lion on a prowl. "Aren't you forgetting something? I'm just a man who can offer you something that is going to be very hard to turn down," he stopped once he stood directly behind his prey. He then crouched down and leaned forward, his smug face inches away from Perry's. "So, you interested?"

Perry hissed, a look of disdain overcoming his previously confident composure.

"I thought so," Bryce smiled, satisfied. His work wasn't done yet though. He put the tips of his fingers together, pulling back so he can continue to prance around. It was the signature Lahela move.

This was a signal to anyone beyond enemy lines that Prosecutor Bryce got you in his grasp. That's why they call him magic hands.

"You better start talking then. Clock is ticking," he returned to stand opposite him, the palm of his hands pressed flatly on the metal table. "Well, that is, if you choose to cooperate."

The perp he worked laboriously to convict fell into a contemplative silence. Bryce watched intently, as Travis closed his eyes and took deep breaths before sitting back up, determined not to say a thing.

"I take it you don't want to talk then?" Bryce pursed his lips in an attempt of mockery. "Why? Suddenly grown a conscience after being caged for a few months? Wanna make Jonathan proud?"

At the mention of his younger brother, Perry abruptly stood up causing his chains to rattle against metal. He lost control, as he screamed to the young ADA's face.

When he lost his steam, Travis eventually backed down looking pleased with himself as he found Bryce's stunned expression.

"You will never catch him! Jordan is more cunning and more capable than any of you pieces of shit!" Travis roared, startling Bryce. "You're all just as worthless as that fucking senator! You think you're so different? Well guess what, you're all the same!"

For a few long moments, Bryce did seem like someone who just lost a battle. The convict sat down and pressed the button under the table to call in his escort. But before anyone came back in to get him, the cunning golden boy mimicked his movements and stared back at him.

"Well, thank you, for your kind assistance," Bryce said quietly as a guard entered and uncuffed Perry. Travis looked back at him, puzzled. He was ordered to stand up, and when he was about to leave the room, Bryce quirked a brow, his lips twisting into a smirk of a cheshire cat.

The mouse just fell into the trap.

"Jordan, huh? I wonder who that is."

Perry's face drained of all color. Bryce chortled in reply before he continued his celebratory address.

"And since you didn't agree on anything, I'll consider it an early holiday gift that doesn't need to be repaid," the lawyer brushed back his hair and stood up, straightening his dark grey suit. With a shrill scream, the heavy metal door closed upon Travis Perry's face, leaving Bryce alone in the room. He waited for a few moments, fixing his tie, then walked back out to the correctional's office.

One more thing before we're done here.

He requested for Perry's files, browsing through his phone records and visitor logs for the past 6 months. When he turned to the third page, he found exactly what he was looking for. Bingo. He fist bumped the air, then took pictures of the pages where he found the matching name. As he set out to collect the rest of his belongings, he quick dialed Rafael and reported his findings.

"We have a name," he walked back to his parked car and got in, turning the ignition on. "It's Jordan Anderson. Look for any records related to him and how he connects with Travis Perry, I'm coming over." he backed up the car out to the road and drove to town.

Hold on, Heather. We're coming for you.

***

Rafael reopened Perry's files for the tenth time since tonight after he ended his call with Bryce. It was a breakthrough, after hours of not being able find anything of value since the investigation started. The name didn't ring any bells, but he was confident he's going to find something. He had to.

Before he closed the file another time, he read a single phrase in the page about Travis Perry's family background. There it was listed:

Parents: Theodore Perry (Deceased), Jenny Perry (deceased)

Siblings: Jonathan Perry (deceased), foster brother (presumed alive, identity unknown)

He highlighted the two words - foster brother.

Is this him? Did we find the kidnapper?

He beckoned the agent beside him who was poring over Farrugia's phone logs. "Marshall, can you find out if Travis' parents took in kids for foster care?"

The agent nodded and opened the application for the National Foster Care directory. Raf watched as he browsed per county, directing him to a site containing Boston's list. Time seemed to slow down for Rafael as Agent Marshall typed in the parents names into the search criteria. He pressed enter, and together they watched the loading icon, as the app attempted to pull up any matching records.

After an excruciatingly long 10 minutes, the application displayed a single name: Jordan Anderson.

This was the solid lead they needed.

He directed half of his team to find anything they could regarding Jordan Anderson. One by one, they pooled in the data and eventually created the most accurate biography of the man who just became Boston's most wanted.

Raf asked for his image to be emailed to the IT guys to run facial recognition on surveillance footage around Edenbrook and Bryce's condo, marking it as urgent. He approached the whiteboard, and began to write a summary of what they knew so far:

JORDAN PETER ANDERSON

* Foster brother of Travis Perry

* Aged 29

* Last known address: Everett, MA

* Last known occupation: Maintenance Crew, Stintson and Co. Cleaning Agency

* Criminal records: Juvenile detention for Shoplifting, illegal drug use, stalking, trespassing

He also listed down the number of restraining orders issued against him, painting a picture of a long history of offenses and a troubled life. He read the accompanying material that they were able to dig in the last half hour and built a psychological profile of the suspect.

Several minutes after, ADA Lahela walked into the room. Bryce nodded to him, before perusing the bulleted points on the board. "This is good work," the prosecutor said.

Raf handed him some of the printouts, allowing him to make his own analysis. The special agent began to discuss his.

"He appears to have a close bond with his foster family, seeing that he didn't move out of Massachusetts. As to how much contact he had with Travis, we're uncertain yet," Rafael said.

With that, Bryce pulled up the pictures he took at the correctional facility. He showed it to Raf.

"There were several rows of the same number in the call logs starting a few months back, starting on the day Perry was transferred," Bryce pointed at the records in contention before proceeding. "So I trailed a pattern. I tried looking at the days when that same number didn't appear in the call logs and looked at the visitor records instead. The name Jordan Anderson came up every single time."

"We received a tip!" an agent stood up and approached the two conferring men, interrupting their discussion. "Apparently, Dr. Song called for a car to bring her to the airport this morning. The driver waited in front of ADA Lahela's complex and was about to leave when he saw a suspicious guy in an overall leaving a side entrance. He was carrying a black luggage bag and a woman who the driver thought as drunk. The woman matched her description."

They shared a look, prompting them into action. Rafael pulled up his phone to dial the surveillance room, but before he could, it pinged for an incoming email. It was from an anonymous sender. It contained a video file attachment. He tapped the play button.

It was a dash cam footage. The first few seconds were dim, but it wasn't long before a black car pulled up into the empty road. The vehicle stopped, a male figure emerged from the driver's seat. He opened the backseat door and there was Heather, limp and unconscious, being dragged by a man who shared the same face as the picture in the printouts. Both men's breathing hitched.

The video finished playing when they heard another ping. It was another email from the same sender. This time, it only contained a single line:

24th Avenue, Panacea Pharmaceutical Boston Tower.

"Panacea? Why does that sound familiar?" Bryce questioned, frowning.

"Panacea, as in the Panacea Labs?" the agent inputted, looking at each of them. "Panacea Labs partnered last year with Edenbrook and Mass Kenmore, prompting the construction of a new office downtown. But the company was shut down due to ethical and regulatory violations, halting the project. It was never finished."

"Can someone put up a recent image from 24th Avenue?"

Another agent walked up to them, showing his laptop screen.

There in the image was a faint sign, Construction Ongoing. Underneath it was the word Panacea.

Rafael raised his phone beside the computer, comparing the still frame from the video.

There it was, at the upper left side, the same sign and the same word.

At that moment, both men knew they were only scratching the surface. But they can deal with that later.

Right now, they knew where Heather was. And it's about damn time they get her back.

Taglist @ramsey-lahela @eleanorbloom @choicesficwriterscreations for Fics of the Week

[inmyownlittlecorner5]

Writing Update Number One: Or, How I learned to stop worrying and write the smut already

For months now, I've been in the slow process of actually writing a non-fade-to-black sex scene. This is something I've avoided in all my stories so far, at first because I wasn't sure that I wanted to write them, and then because I wasn't sure I could write them. I somehow managed to write an extremely carnal relationship in Moonlight without ever detailing the act itself.

By the end of last year, I'd made up my mind that I wanted to figure out how to write about sex. It's a part of life for many people and, while it's not always the only part of a romantic relationship, it can be an important part. So I set about trying to spice up the outlines of my stories, to give myself a chance to figure out how to write about sex.

And...it never happened.

I guess the first thing I learned was not to force it. Every time I came to the point in my outline where the sex was supposed to happen, my characters would do something else instead. I figured it would be the end of this year, or even next year at the earliest before I actually tackled the issue.

And then I hit one of those dreaded transition chapters. I hate transition chapters. They are such a pain. Maybe it's all the expectations you put on them--here little chapter, your entire raison d'être is to get my plot from point A to point B. And if you could please not be boring as all get out, that'd be great too.

I kid you not, I wrote at least four different versions of the beginning of this chapter. Sev and Miranda had a bunch of plot points they needed to discuss...and it was boring. I put them in a cute cafe--boring. I put them in the woods--boring. I put them in his rooms at Hogwarts--boring, boring, boring.

Finally, I took a step back and thought about the bigger picture of the novel. It had been a while since we'd seen Aaron Lee, and it was somewhat important he show up again before his next big scene. So, I opened the chapter with him and Miranda on patrol. I even let folks meet a couple of minor characters who have been mentioned several times without being seen. This led into an action sequence...which led to Miranda getting very dirty...which led to her wanting a bath and a glass of wine when she got to Sev's rooms...which led to them discussing all the plot points in the bath...

And then I was trapped.

Because there was absolutely no graceful way for me to write around the sex. And the closing image of the scene needed to be after the sex. So that meant I had to write...the sex. Which I did. It took a long time, largely because I was having trouble not questioning every other phrase I put on the page. And it ended up actually being kind of explicit (but tasteful! I hope!). In the end, @constitutionalweasleymonarchy​ was kind enough to look it over for me (thank you ) and reassure me I hadn't made a total fool of myself. And I don't hate the scene. In fact, I'd say I'm pretty happy with how it turned out.

Except...now I'm looking back on those scenes that I forced to fade-to-black in Moonlight, and wishing I hadn't. And since I publish on the internet, and editing something published only takes the click of a button....I guess I'm going to go and fix all that. Which means that I now have five more scenes to write. I've noticed that sometimes when I update libera, there are a certain number of people who are finding my series for the first time, and they go back to read Moonlight as well. Which means I probably ought to update Moonlight before I start posting updates to libera.

Which makes my self-imposed deadline feel suddenly a bit more daunting.

Oh, and I also had an idea for a "missing moment" from libera....maybe I'll try to set it around Christmas in the fic's timeline, and that can be my special Christmas one-shot I was planning to post anyway.

The long and the short of it is--I just made a lot more work for myself.

[goldenmessenger]

TS Actor AU: The Family We Chose - Part One

Summary: One year ago, Thomas discovered something new about himself, and now he's finally ready to act on that information.Virgil gave up along time ago, so he doesn't expect to hear what he was searching for call his name.Many questions are asked, and they will be answered, with time.

Read on Ao3 here.

A/N: Hey everyone! So, first entry for the AU that doesn’t feature Remus, Roman, or Dillon. I saw your responses to my ideas post, so my current plan is to try to work on all of them! I realized working on Reach Out Your Hand that I had burned myself out a little on angst. So I’m going to try to rotate through different stories. So there will be another part to this, but first, we’ll get to see what Logan and Patton (+Virgil) were doing during the events of I’ve Got You Brother and Reach Out Your Hand.

As usual, let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! 

Content Warnings:

Adoption, feelings of abandonment, minor negative feelings towards adoption (mostly due to how a character’s parents handle it)

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

It had been a year. One year since Thomas’s dad had died, officially making Thomas an orphan as his mother had died when Thomas was a child. He was alone.

Or so Thomas had thought.

Then his father’s executor brought him a letter that revealed that Thomas had been adopted, and his parents had never told him. 

Thomas had spiraled for a little bit after that. He knew there was nothing wrong with being adopted, but Thomas felt like that was easier to say about other people who knew from the beginning that they were adopted. Finding out like this, after both of his parents were dead? That made him feel like it was something to be ashamed of. Like his adoption was some deep, dark secret. 

It had taken a lot of therapy and a lot of conversations with his close friends for Thomas to stop resenting his parents. Both the ones who had raised him, and the biological ones that Thomas had never known. The ones who had given him up.

And even more work to get Thomas to this point. The point where 8 weeks ago, he’d sent in a DNA test to Ancestry. The point where he now sat on the floor with his friends Patton and Joan, in the former’s Atlanta apartment, staring at the email he’d gotten. The email that he couldn’t bring himself to open. 

“You know, it could be nothing.” Joan said, in an attempt to break the silence. When Patton and Thomas looked at them, they added, “Didn’t you say before, Thomas, when you were researching, that it’s pretty common to get a third or fourth cousin, and have to work your way from there?”

“Yeah.” Thomas said, finally. “It’s uncommon to get a direct match right out of the gate. If you do, you’re really lucky.” And Thomas knew that. Knew that this likely wouldn’t be an instant solution. This would just be the start of a rocky road, and a lot of long searching. But, well, he didn’t know. Part of him was hoping for an easy fix, an instant find, but the other part? That was the part of him that was keeping him from opening this email. The part of him that was suddenly scared of actually meeting his bio-family. 

What if he didn’t like them? What if they didn’t like him? They’d given him up for a reason, after all. Thomas didn’t even know if there was anything worth finding.

Patton and Joan saw Thomas’s hesitation, and exchanged a glance.

“How about this?” Patton said, doing his best to smile at Thomas reassuringly. “Joan or I could open it for you, if that’s easier, and tell you the results?”

Thomas nodded, and handed the laptop over to Patton. Thomas couldn’t bring himself to speak. The anticipation had his stomach tied in more knots than a tangled pair of headphones.

Patton opened the email, and followed the link inside it. Joan squeezed Thomas’s hand in theirs. All Thomas could do was focus on Patton’s face.

Suddenly, Patton’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped.

“What, what is it?” Thomas questioned anxiously. Patton merely turned around the laptop.

At the top of the page was a name.

Virgil Bailey

Member Since 2012, Last Logged in September 16, 2013

But what Thomas found more interesting, and what had likely caused Patton’s surprise, were the sentences below all of that.

Possible range: Full - Half Siblings

Confidence: Extremely High

Thomas stared.

“I-I have a brother.” Thomas said, feeling breathless and a little lightheaded. 

“Click on the profile, Patton.” Joan urged. “Let’s see what this guy looks like!”

“Only if Thomas wants to.” Patton reminded Joan.

“Yeah. I think I do.” Thomas confirmed.

And Patton clicked on the profile. All three friends gasped.

The young man in the photo was dressed in a simple purple shirt and gray hoodie, looking squarely into the camera. And he looked so much like Thomas! Brown hair, matching eyes, the same nose. And it really began to sink in for Thomas. This was his brother.

“Wait a minute.” Joan said suddenly. “I think I know him!”

Patton and Thomas both immediately turned to Joan.

“What do you mean, you know him?” Thomas questioned, a little confused.

Joan was scrolling through their phone, until they finally flipped it around to show Thomas an instagram page with the name Virgil Bailey at the top.

“Found him!” They said triumphantly. “I almost didn’t recognize that picture of him, but I knew the name was familiar.”

The post Joan had pulled up was a series of selfies. The first depicted the same young man as in the Ancestry profile picture, though Thomas instantly understood why Joan didn’t recognize it at first.

The Virgil in this picture had multiple piercings in each ear, plus an eyebrow piercing in his left eyebrow. His hair, instead of cleanly and simply cut like in the previous photo, was a bright purple, and styled to hang in front of his eyes. The eyes in question were framed with dramatic purple eyeshadow and eyeliner. However, compared to the rest of him, his clothes were fairly simple. Just a long-sleeved black shirt, and black jeans.

“That’s a pretty color.” Patton commented, but Thomas barely noticed as he swiped through the photos.

The first selfie seemed to show Virgil sitting down in a cafe. The second was similar, but there was someone in the background, making a funny face at the camera. Thomas took a double-take, and realized who it was.

“Joan? What—”

“Shh.” Joan said waving a hand at Thomas. “Look at the rest first.”

The third picture showed Joan right behind Virgil, giving the young man bunny ears. The young man in question had clearly been just starting to realize Joan was there as the camera had taken the photo, judging by his wide eyes.

In the fourth, and last, picture, Virgil and Joan were sittiing next to each other, with Joan beaming widely into the camera, and Virgil looking happy, if a little surprised.

The caption read:

Was on my lunch break at a cute local cafe, and look who I ran into! The famous Director Stokes, who also currently happens to kinda be my boss. I’m working tech for a movie they’re filming in the area! They’re even cooler in person, and took the time to learn my name and talk to me for a little bit. Doubt I’ll ever run into them again, or that they’ll remember my name, but now I’ve got a cool story for the future.

Thomas’s head snapped up. 

“Did he say he’s working tech on your movie right now?” Thomas said. Joan grinned wide.

“Yep.” They said, with the slightest hint of smugness. 

“The one I’m currently starring in?” Thomas said. “Watch it Burn and Rust?”

“Yep!” Joan said cheerfully. “I’d seen him around on set, and I photobombed his selfie because I was intrigued by how much he looked like you.” Joan did sober up a bit, expression turning serious. “I’d kinda thought it’d be kinda funny to laugh about later, but now we know why he looks like you.”

“Wow!” Patton said, eyes wide. “What are the odds of this sort of thing happening?”

“Small, probably.” Thomas said, quietly. He frowned, and turned to his friends. “What now?”

“Well,” Patton began, “I’d love to help you two plan, but I have to go back to San Francisco tomorrow. I told Dee I’d help him with the wedding plans.” Patton pouted. “It’s too bad, I’d love to meet your brother!”

“I think I probably won’t want to overwhelm him, but thanks for the offer.” Thomas said. “Besides, I’m guessing your brother will need your help to temper out more of Remus’s...extreme ideas.”

“You don’t even know half of it.” Patton sighed, tired. “Roman just texted me yesterday, begging me to help me convince Remus that it was a bad idea for him to pop out of the wedding cake to make an entrance into the reception. And that’s just the beginning of it. I haven’t even started on the ideas he’s had for Dillon’s bachelor party. To be honest, I think he might be trolling us a little.”

“Sounds like Remus!” Joan laughed. “You’ll have to say hi to that chaotic trash man for me!”

“I will.” Patton promised. “Now, Thomas, back to Virgil. It looks like he hasn’t been on Ancestry in a while, so if you send him a message on there he probably won’t get it. But you know now that he’ll be on the movie set with you. So what’s your plan?”

Thomas frowned, lost in thought.

“Well……”

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

The next day….

Virgil hummed to himself as he double-checked the lights on set, making sure they were secure. He liked moments like this, where it was just him, on top of a scissor lift adjusting lights. He was far away from the hustle and bustle on the ground below, and it was just him and the lights. Virgil turned to the controls and slowly lowered himself to the ground. His supervisor, Chris, greeted him as he got down. 

“The lights all secure up there, Virge?” 

“Yep, nice and tight, just like they should be.” Virgil replied, promptly. “They’ll be in place and ready for filming tomorrow.”

“Great, thank you Virge.” Chris said. “See you tomorrow?”

“Yep!” Virgil said. “Bright and early as usual, before anything with any amount of sanity is up.”

“You’ve got that right!” Chris said with a laugh. “See ya!”

Virgil smiled and waved, and walked away. He was looking forward to going home and collapsing. Mom would probably have food waiting for him, like she usually did when he had to work these long days. And he could continue to ignore the email notification he had gotten from Ancestry. They claimed that a new genetic match had been found. Virgil could care less.

He didn’t want to get his hopes up anymore.

He was about to exit the building, when he heard a voice behind him.

“Virgil! Virgil Bailey!”

Virgil turned, though groaning inwardly. Usually if someone was shouting his name like that it meant that something had gone wrong and he was needed to fix it. And he wouldn’t get home for another couple of hours. 

“What is it this time, Chris—” Virgil froze mid sentence. 

That was definitely not Chris. 

Not unless Chris had somehow figured out how to shapeshift himself into Thomas Freaking Sanders, Virgil’s idol and personal hero.

“M-Mr. Sanders.” Virgil stuttered, mind racing. Why on earth would Thomas Sanders know his name? How did Thomas Sanders even know that he existed. “Can I help you?”

“I-” Thomas began, but stopped mid sentence. For the first time, Virgil actually looked at him and realized something that shocked him. Thomas Sanders was nervous. About talking to him, Virgil Bailey, a complete unknown. Suddenly, Thomas spoke again.

“I-I was wondering if I could talk to you.”

“About?” Virgil questioned, genuinely curious, although the part of him that could never really trust anyone was on guard. Virgil had to protect himself first. He already knew the consequences of being too trusting all too well.

“W-well,” Thomas said, looking even more nervous, “I was hoping we could talk in private? Maybe on the way to dinner?”

“What?” Virgil said, stunned. “Why would you want to go to dinner with me? You don’t even know me?”

“Well, I—” Thomas sighed. “This isn’t going quite like I planned but—” “But?” Virgil said.

“I’m your brother.”

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

The silence in the back of Thomas’s limo was uncomfortable. Neither man quite knew how to break the silence that stretched between them like a rubber band. Tenuous and feeling like it could snap at any moment. 

Virgil kept turning things over in his head. He’d finally looked at that Ancestry email, and it had confirmed what Thomas had said. 

He still couldn’t quite believe it.

Finally, Thomas broke the silence.

“Look, I—” Thomas took a deep breath, the kind Virgil knew well. It was the kind of breath you only take when your brain is swirling with chaos, and you’re desperately trying to contain it. 

“I don’t want you to feel like you owe me anything.” Thomas said. “I know that this has to seem absolutely crazy. You probably didn’t even know I existed until I came to talk to you.” Thomas took another desperate breath, clearly still struggling to stay calm. “If you don’t want to have a relationship with me, I completely understa—”

“No!” Virgil said, feeling a sudden sense of urgency swell up within him. Thomas stopped talking, clearly taken aback by Virgil’s sudden interjection. Virgil realized he should probably clarify his statement.

“I mean,” Virgil said, “You’re wrong. I did know I had a brother. That’s why I got that Ancestry account, why I took the DNA test. And it wasn’t the only one I took either. I was hoping that I could find him, or you, I guess.”

“You were looking for me?” Thomas said softly. Virgil suddenly felt embarrassed at his own outburst and looked at his feet.

“Yeah, for years. I mean, I didn’t know who you were, but I knew that you were out there somewhere. But I got frustrated, and—” Virgil shrugged helplessly. “I gave up. Couldn’t take constantly getting my hopes up only to have them dashed.”

Silence again.

“What I mean is,” Virgil said, “I’d like to try for a relationship with you, if I haven’t screwed things up already.”

“You haven’t.” Thomas said. “And I’d like to try too.”

Virgil shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“I’m guessing you have some questions?” Virgil said.

“Yeah, I do,” said Thomas, “but we’ve been sitting here a while, and I did promise you dinner?” Thomas smiled hopefully at Virgil.

“Sure.” Virgil said, and smiled back.

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

Taglist:

@ironwoman359

@galacticguppy

@trashpanda-remus 

@atticusfinchthelegend

@ravenclawunicorn1

@voidvirgil

@dogwithpants

@dreaming-about-kittens

@ro-arts-blog

[windschildfanfictionwriter]

Getting Started

Dear Windschild8179, I really enjoy your work and I was hoping you'd have some tips for me. I've been trying for the past few weeks to start writing a multi-chapter story, but every attempt at creating an outline has ended with me sitting there staring at a blank page. Then I tried just getting started without having an outline first, but that didn't work either. I don't know why I'm having so much trouble with this, especially as I already know how I'm going to start and how it's going to end, but I can't seem to fill in anything in between the first and last scenes. Any advice you could give would be immensely appreciated. Yours sincerely, TharAmira.

Then write the start of the story and the end. It doesn't mean that you have to use either of those scenes if later in your writing things change, the point is to have it done. To start.

Often times just having it written out helps to find the connecting points.

I often write out of chronological order and it makes writing connection scenes much easier. Sometimes for a story idea, I will write a scene that comes WAY down the line. Like... with Boogeyman, I wrote the scenes from Peter's point of view before anything else. I wrote the whole five chapters of that and it comes directly in the middle of the story.

For Spitfire, I wrote Ron's captivity with the Death Eaters first. Everything that happened with his captivity and everything else. These scenes are viewed through various means (flashbacks, PTSD symptoms, court accounts) but they came first.

With Vanguard I wrote the Billius scene at the start of the chapter five years before I actually decided to go through with the project.

Write the scene that you WANT to write more than anything else and then ask yourself questions once you're done. 

What needs to happen to get here?   [The beginning and lead up]

What repercussions will happen after?   [The resolution and ending]

Try to summarize each of these events with one sentence and then say: Ok, so this has to happen, how can I make this scene fun to read while also getting across the goal of the scene?

For example:  

I pictured a scene where Ron is wearing quidditch clothes that are far too tight. It's hurting him but he refuses to say anything. He has rashes and cuts along his body where the arm guards are cutting into him and the metal pieces are rusted from age. A younger student, Jack, notices and runs screaming to Harry, the captain (I set it up in sixth year).

Now, I wanted a story where we see the repercussions of poverty and how Ron comes to have a slight eating disorder because of it. This scene, I knew, would be far off in the story, but I didn't know anything else about it. So I wrote the whole scene out. And this helped set the tone of Harry and Ron's relationship for the story. Where Harry gets angry and tells Ron that Ron is hurting his best friend. He's hurting himself and that's not okay.

So what does that mean?

First of all, this takes Harry from left field. He had no idea. Which means I have to write this story form Ron's point of view and no one can know what's going on for a good while. I'll have to put little bread crumbs so that things click into place, but not big chunks.

It means that the clothes issue has to have a reasoning. 

-Why is Ron so set on hiding it?

-How long has it been such a serious issue? 

-How did it develop? 

-How did it worsen?

Jack also needs to be present before this scene in a story. I hate one-line characters, so I have to develop this kid a bit to make the impact of him being the one to discover Ron more dramatic. And I decided, then, that I would have him not really like Ron at the start. I decided to write an entire chapter where he sees Ron being a jerk and then slowly witnessing how and why Ron was being a jerk and throughout the course of the story, Jack is used as an outside observer for events. Someone who doesn't care about Ron so he doesn't feel the need to step in when he sees problems or issues. But someone who, by the time he discovers Ron in the locker room, DOES care.

What else needs to be done here?

Tension: No story works well without tension. (Angst)

How do we rev up the angst if we want Harry to be oblivious? -I start writing down possibilities 

1) Dean is an artist. Maybe I'll have him draw his roommates throughout the semester and when he goes to gather them up he notices the change in Ron through his own drawings. Something he couldn't see in the day to day, but is obvious in the pencil sketches. 

2) Neville noticing something right from the start and nagging Ron about it but people brush off Neville's concerns because its Ron and he's fine. 

3) We got the first two roommates so what about Seamus? Confrontation. He's good for that. We'll have him take the mickey. Tease Ron about some of these 'minor things' that later blow up. 

4) Humiliation is always good: We'll have a moment where Ron's clothes break in some manner in a public place. Something tears or maybe a button comes off and he has to deal with it all day. He tries to mend it, but it’s been mended too many times before. His clothes have so much residue magic in them that they are literally falling apart by the fiber.

How does Ron fix that issue? Find new clothes? Maybe the room of lost things? Painstakingly sew it the muggle way? Try not to eat as much so he doesn't grow anymore? ... ...

...

All three.

Notice how now from that one scene I now have a good chunk in the middle. I now know that the story is going to surround the dorm mates so I'm going to want to limit characters outside of these because that's FIVE main characters.

So what do I need to make this central bulk work?

If we're focusing on the dorm mates then the story should start when all five of them are in the dorms sixth year for the first time. To set the tone and lay down the foundations.

So Dean needs to be sketching. Seamus needs to be teasing. Neville needs to be his normal affectionate self so that when he gets upset, the contrast is clear. Harry needs to be focused on his own issues so that his obliviousness is more believable.

And this needs to be seen through Ron's eyes where maybe we see a tiny piece of what's to come. Maybe he notices that he's down to his last few pairs of pants that fit or one of his shirts starts to disintegrate or maybe Dobby offers Ron socks because the house elf noticed Ron's clothes condition when he was doing the laundry.

It HAS to be something small though. An almost off hand note or observation. 

Because one thing you want to do above everything else is to slowly build the tension up more and more. A very basic mistake of writing is coming out in the first chapter with guns blazing. You throw the reader in the center of the conflict and from that point on, the reveal of the secret is imminent rather than a fear of discovery. 

Remember, there is a promise that is made in that first chapter and if it conflicts with the promise in the summary then you WILL lose the reader. If you promise that the story is about the fear of discovery and the MC is discovered int he first chapter then there is no longer a story. Everything that comes after is just the author struggling to find a new plot because they gave up the one they had within the first few pages. Most readers are just looking to answer the question raised in the summary. If you give that answer away in the first chapter then there is no incentive for them to continue. 

The secret must slowly be unveiled so that the little things start to be noticed, built upon, and each discovery is like a small precious thing between the mc and the reader.

Now: You know Ron's secret, but no one else does.

This causes tension without ever doing anything else. Don't treat your reader like their stupid. They NOTICE those little things. They are paying rapt attention. Make sure you drop one small thing in each scene. Even if its a fluffy piece.

Now at this point, I have a beginning, some central middle points, but no end. What do I do for this? What do I want? -I want people to find out the depths of the issue which means a hell of a lot more than just the clothes being too tight in the quidditch scene. So is the quidditch scene the first big 'oh shit' moment? What are the consequences? -I want Dean to show his sketches to someone. [Ginny is the most obvious but I'll have to see at what stage of the year there at if that's a possibility] -I want Seamus and the others who were teasing to become more and more upset when people finally start noticing that Ron isn't eating. -I want protective Harry -I want pissed Neville.

Notice how this all started with one scene in a locker room, and how that scene is clearly in the middle of the story.

I highly recommend writing out whatever scene speaks to you the most and build from there. For many people, not just you, getting started is the hardest part because they feel the need, the obligation, to start where the story itself starts. Which most have only a vague idea about. But everyone has that image in their mind that's set in stone, the inspiration for the story they want to write. Allowing yourself to write that scene first, even if you end up never using it, helps infinitely in getting you starting on the right path and on creating a more defined outline.

Hope this helps. 

[the-sinnamon-roll-writes]

I just stumbled upon all your little fics/short stories and I love them!! Especially all the ones with the Frying Pangle in them lol. Could I request a Phantom of the Opera type fic for Pruaus pretty please? Thank you so much!!

*spongebob narrator voice* 6 months later. I have no excuse for how dead this blog has been, except that I keep starting new projects before I finish old ones. Then I end up scrapping said project because I don’t like the way it turned out. Honestly, I’m not satisfied with this one at all. Phantom of the Opera is one of my favorite musicals of all time, and I swear I could write pages of in-depth analysis for it. But I really didn’t do it justice, which is why I stopped where I did. I’m sure it’s obvious, but Christine is Gilbert, the Phantom is Roderich, and Raul is Elizabeta.

It was a strange life, growing up around performers. They were eccentrics, complex and overwhelming at times. Gilbert felt perfectly at home among them. The livelihood that surrounded him matched his energy perfectly; the constant change always offered new adventures for him.

However, the nature of the work prevented forming any close bonds to anyone. Everyone had some their own demons from the past. They had turned to acting to have the chance to be someone new, someone with an entirely different life on the stage. The dramas, the tragedies, the comedies, the larger than life tales, all lending hand to the unending whirlwind that shaped the atmosphere in the opera house.

The only constant person in his life was Elizabeta. Her mother, Françoise, had taken him in and raised him as best she could, but it was with Eliza that he’d bonded with. With Françoise was often busy with her work in the theatre, the two children found solice in each other. They confided in one another, matured together, practiced their skills in singing and dancing together. A driven pair they made, both striving to improve every day. Elizabeta was an exquisite dancer, and Gilbert had a voice that would make the angels cry.

Every time they rehearsed different snippets from different plays, the older troop members would stop and stare, and provide feedback when they were finished. Of course, being young, they relished the attention and clung on to every piece of advice they received.

It was Gilbert who first landed a role in a play when he was 17. It was just a minor character in Fidelio. He was an extra, with very few lines. His vocal range made him a useful asset when performing, allowing the director to fluctuate his parts from bass to tenor as needed throughout the play. Eliza’s first part was came soon after him, in a Greek epic, Trojan Women. After that, they began to get more and more roles, moving from chorus members to minor characters to even more prominent characters.

It took three more years for Gilbert to be cast as a main character. Or rather, the understudy to a main character. Still, it was something Gilbert was immensely proud of. He worked diligently at memorizing the lines, testing different emotions to portray, as well as his blocking. He would train long into the night and, at times, dismissed sleep in favor of rehearsal. On the latest nights it felt as though he could hear a voice, singing softly, guiding and teaching him.

So when -on the closing night of the play- the lead actor broke his hand and Gilbert had to fill in, it was like a dream come true. Granted, he had a lot to live up to; Antonio was one of the most talented actors in the troop. But he felt more than ready to take on the challenge. Underneath the bright lights he knew who he was. He was the character, with a clear purpose and a guaranteed happy ending. He was more prepared for this night than he had been for anything else in his life. And what a night it was.

•••

Gilbert left the stage feeling utterly exhausted. Although he did everything he could to avoid other people, it proved difficult when the entire audience wanted to meet him. He was a fresh face, something new and exciting to look at. He had had no idea just how wild life would be as a leading male. Any other time he might’ve enjoyed this newfound attention, but now all he wanted to do was go to sleep. It took him nearly 40 minutes to finally make his way through the crowd of people to his room. 40 minutes of ‘congratulations’ from strangers, a few even going so far as to hug him or kiss his cheek.

Those 40 minutes were worth it, Gilbert though as he finally flung himself down into his bed. He couldn’t think of anything that felt better than his bed in the moment.

Unfortunately it was only a brief reprieve.

“Gilbert.”

The voice was quiet, easy to dismiss as Gilbert’s overtired imagination.

“Gilbert.”

The second time was clearer, louder and more enunciated. It wasn’t Gilbert’s imagination. Stil, he wasn’t particularly interested in talking to anyone. His door was locked; whoever it was could wait until morning for him to come out.

“Gilbert!”

Now the voice was much sharper, and- to Gilbert’s alarm- much closer. He was suddenly extremely aware of another presence in the room with him. He was doing all he could to just remain laying down and pretend to be asleep, despite his racing heart. However, he was apparently unable to maintain the facade. He sat up quickly and looked around.

“It’s alright, Gilbert.”

It was softer again, soothing him. He couldn’t place the voice, but Gilbert felt certain he had heard it before. Cautiously, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and looked around the room. Nothing. It was dark, and he couldn’t spot anything in the shadows. “Who are you?”

“I’m who you need. I’m your teacher.”

Teacher? He had to be hearing things. The exhaustion was getting to him. It wasn’t possible for someone to be in his room. Only one person besides himself had a key to get in, and he would’ve recognized her voice in an instant.

As if on cue, there was a loud knock on the door, and he heard the doorknob rattle and a key clicking. The door swung open to reveal Elizabeta. The light streamed into his dark room from behind her, and the glow that surrounded her was almost ethereal. “Gilbert! Why are you in here? A lot of people are looking for you.”

Gilbert smiled tiredly. “I’m just worn out. It was a lot harder than I thought it would be.”

Smiling back, Elizabeta walked over and sat down beside him. “You did great. Everyone is so proud of you.”

“Good. Honestly, I was terrified the whole time.”

“Well, you must be very pleased with yourself now. You did it!”

“I really only feel tired,” Gilbert said wearily. “I’m ready to go asleep as soon as I can.”

Elizabeta pursed her lips, staring at Gilbert. Her expression was a mix of irritability and concern. “You should come out and join the crowd. Say hello to some people, shake hands. I’ll stay right beside you, if you’d like.”

After a moments hesitation, Gilbert nodded and stood up. “I suppose I can make it through an hour or so. Alright. Come on.” He offered her his hand and pulled her up to stand beside him.

Once again, a smile broke loose on Eliza’s face. “Let’s go!”

“Let me change first. You wait right out there, and I’ll be out in a moment.”

“Alright. Be quick,” Elizabeta said, walking through the door and allowing it to close on its own.

For a brief second Gilbert considered simply locking the door again and returning to his bed, but he quickly put that out of his mind. He had agreed to go with her; she didn’t deserve to be left alone. Staring intently at himself in the mirror, he looked up and down, trying to picture what he wanted to wear. After a minute of gazing Gilbert realized in some part of his mind that his brain was somewhere else entirely.

‘I’ll just pull on a jacket.’

Even with his resolve, Gilbert still found himself having difficulty looking away. Lost in his thoughts. It seemed as though his body was full of rocks and was refusing to move. Just go. The sooner he got it done, the sooner Elizabeta would let him retreat back to his room. Another few seconds passed before he finally shook himself out of his stupor and snatched up his jacket from where he had hung it on the wall. He yawned as he put on his jacket, stretching his arms up towards the ceiling. When he was finished, he turned around to go to the door.

And he very nearly jumped out of his skin.

Standing in front of him was a man dressed entirely in black, blocking the door. A plain white mask covered the greater part of his face, making it difficult to read. Almost instantly Gilbert felt his heart start racing and he took an involuntary step backwards. When did he come in? How had he gotten in without Gilbert noticing? And most importantly- “who are you?”

The man just stared at him with an expression that was impossible to read.

“Well?”

“I’m what you need,” he replied simply. His voice was smooth and sure. Intoxicating.

For some reason, despite his instincts telling him to be scared, Gilbert quickly got over it. That voice didn’t sound like any other voice Gilbert had ever heard, thrilling and soothing all at once. He felt a strange calm settle in his chest. This man wouldn’t hurt him; he would take him somewhere otherworldly.

No. Calm wasn’t the right word.

Transcendent.

Immune to the world around him.

All just by staring at the man’s eyes. Something about him set him apart from the everyone else. Perhaps it was the intensity in the man’s eyes, the incredible depth they showed. Whatever it was, it had Gilbert trapped.

And the man knew it. He deliberately reached his hand out for Gilbert to take. Although a strong part of him was saying not to, Gilbert took the offering and stepped closer. Somehow he knew the man. He was familiar in a way that Gilbert couldn’t exactly place.

Bad idea or not, Gilbert allowed the man to guide him towards the back wall of his room. Once they had nearly reached the wall, the man released Gilbert’s hand and bent down to flip the corner of an antique carpet. When Gilbert shuffled closer, he saw that the man had exposed a trap door that had been hidden by the old rug. How long had that been there? After opening the top of the door, the man shuffled along and started to climb down. He was about three rods down when he looked up at Gilbert and waved his hand to indicate that he was to follow.

Sudden anxiety caused Gilbert to pause. He had no idea where the tunnel led or what the man wanted with him. The moment was soon over when a sudden, oddly familiar song drifted through the room. Soft low notes and gentle high notes blended together so perfectly he could feel it in his chest. It was alien in the way it was composed, with everything from crescendos to tempo changes being entirely different from anything he had ever heard. And yet, somehow he could sense every change that was coming, hearing it before it happened. Entirely bewitching. Without another moments hesitation, Gilbert had his feet down in the door and was soon standing beside the man again. Anything to get closer to that song.

Being in such close proximity, Gilbert found himself much more calm that he would have guessed. “Do you have a name?”

“Yes.”

The one word answer threw Gilbert for a loop. “What is it?”

Another brief pause and then- “Roderich.”

Gilbert decided not to talk any further and continued to follow him. The noise was increasing in volume ever so slightly with each step; each step revealed new, minuscule things about the music. Adrenaline was making him tremble as he pushed on and on, deeper and deeper into a seemingly unending system of tunnels.

Finally they arrived at a large room, messy and unorganized with stacks of paper strewn about and candles spread everywhere to illuminate the otherwise dark cave. Roderich took his hand and led him to the center of the room. Once they reached the center, he released Gilbert’s hands and took a step back, spreading his arms and gesturing around. “Gilbert. Do you know who I am?”

It suddenly hit him where he had heard the man’s voice. Those nights when he was alone- this was the voice that was there for him. That had taught him so much. “Yes.”

“Do you know why I’ve taken you here?”

“My performance. Teacher, I forgot what you taught me. I was weak. I held back.”

“You did well, child. You will learn, if you obey me. I chose you, the first time I heard you sing. You possess more than you could possibly imagine. And I can lead you to greatness. You will be my masterpiece. Stay with me. Stay with me Gilbert, and I will teach you to shine brighter than anyone has ever seen.” Roderich held out his hand once more towards Gilbert and waited.

Gilbert stared down at the hand a moment, then looked up to meet the eyes that gazed at him from behind the mask. Without a word, he slowly raised his hand and took a hold of Roderich’s.

[wallpaperpainter]

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PARIS — Amoako Boafo was already a ascent brilliant of the art bazaar back he met Dior men’s artisan Kim Jones at Art Basel Miami Beach aftermost December. The aftermost few months accept apparent the prices for Boafo’s assignment circling at auction, alike as the coronavirus communicable attenuate the bazaar for added accustomed artists.

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Speculation is acceptable to be fanned added by the Ghanaian artist’s accord with Dior on its summer 2021 men’s collection, apparent on Monday. Boafo’s portraits of Black characters set adjoin monochromatic backgrounds aggressive the bright outfits, in article of a full-circle moment.

“I’d been cutting Dior for some time afore I got alien to Kim,” Boafo tells WWD by buzz from Accra, Ghana. “It was amazing to abrasion article which is fabricated by someone, and again accommodated them in person.”

It’s alone the latest affiliate in a charmed aisle for the painter, who advised at the Ghanatta College of Art and Design in his home country and afterwards completed a Master of Fine Arts amount at the Academy of Fine Arts Vienna.

American painter Kehinde Wiley noticed his assignment on Instagram and alien him to his Los Angeles gallery, Roberts Projects, which staged the aboriginal U.S. exhibition of Boafo’s assignment in January 2019. “When Kehinde wrote to me on Instagram, initially I anticipation it was a joke,” Boafo confesses. “I was aloof afraid and surprised.”

Amoako Boafo’s painting “Boy in a Black & White Striped Shirt.”  Amoako Boafo/Courtesy of Roberts Projects

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His paintings additionally bent the absorption of Chicago gallerist Mariane Ibrahim, who now represents him. That Boafo should accept landed on the alarm of a arch artisan comes as little surprise: his sitters afford alone style.

“As a appearance lover, I get fatigued by the characters that I acrylic back they accept that affectionate of faculty of fashion. I get connected,” he explains, abacus that he is admiring to self-confidence. “I tend to attending at characters that are accomplishing article in the community. I additionally attending at colors.”

Boafo uses solid backdrops to draw absorption to the announcement of the sitters, whose bark he draws with his fingers, cartoon comparisons with the alive appearance of Austrian painter Egon Schiele. Lately, he’s been appointment patterns from European-sourced wallpapers to add added abyss to the paintings.

A screenshot from the Dior blur about Amoako Boafo.  Courtesy photo

While he has portrayed acclaimed asleep bodies such as Jean-Michel Basquiat and Tupac Shakur, best of his sitters are not well-known. Rather, Boafo brand to bless personalities like Thelma Golden, administrator and arch babysitter of The Studio Museum in New York City, who use their articulation to actualize amplitude for others.

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“I apperceive what it’s like to be in that minority, to not be able to say what you absolutely appetite to say,” says the painter, who struggled for accepting back he relocated to Austria to accompany his partner, artisan Sunanda Mesquita.

“I had to catechism my Blackness back I got to Vienna. You know, they accomplish it attending like it’s absolutely bad to be a Black person. For me, my painting is to appearance altered means of attractive at Black people,” he explains. The brace accept back cofounded We Dey, a belvedere for queer, trans, inter, nonbinary and BIPOC artists.

His advancing alternation of “Black Diaspora” portraits challenges absolute behavior about Black identity, while his self-portraits accept addressed baneful adulthood and anatomy politics. “The primary abstraction of my convenance is representation, documenting, adulatory and assuming new means to access Blackness,” Boafo has said.

Despite its able messages, he does not articulation the growing absorption in his assignment to the all-around activation triggered by the Black Lives Matter movement. “Maybe some bodies will affix or aces up on that,” he muses. “But the appeal for my assignment has been actual aerial alike afore Basel, and afterwards Basel it got crazy.”

In February, “The Lemon Bathing Suit,” a account completed alone aftermost year, awash for 675,000 British pounds at the “20th Century & Contemporary Art Evening Sale” captivated by Phillips in London, far beyond its appraisal of 30,000 to 50,000 pounds. Boafo is activity a bit feverish about the appulse of the Dior collaboration.

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“I mean, it is big,” he says, pausing. “Once in a while I get fatigued out because this is activity to change the way bodies attending at my work, and it’s absolutely activity to add some amount to it. So I’m actual abundant aflame about it.”

Amoako Boafo’s painting “Yellow Dress.”  Amoako Boafo/Courtesy of the artist

His admired allotment was seeing some of his portraits translated assimilate clothes, like the sweater abstract with “Yellow Dress,” a account that flirts with gender ambiguity. “To accept witnessed what they did is aloof amazing,” Boafo enthuses.

“People accept been allurement for means to be able to access a painting, not necessarily on canvas or paper, but whether I do prints, or if I accept shirts or things like this. So to accept the accord and to see them on shirts or clothes is absolutely nice. I anticipate we will ability added people,” he adds.

As he works on “I Stand By Me,” his aboriginal abandoned exhibition at the Mariane Ibrahim Arcade appointed for September, Boafo is answer the anticipation of introducing adornment into his aesthetic practice. In the meantime, Dior will accommodate its abutment to his activity of creating a abode of abode for adolescent artists in Ghana.

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“Fashion is a agent for art, and art can be a agent of empowerment for individuals. This has been a momentous artistic befalling for my career and for the approaching of my art,” he says.

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[colp76-blog]

Hello and welcome back to my Journey into Science-Fiction Part:17. I was thinking of a way to watch science-fiction films that I have might have missed in the past and take a deep dive into others that I have already watched and loved. It’s quite a simple idea really, all I have to do is find a connection with each film in order to continue my journey.

In Part:16 I watched and reviewed Dreamscape and if you are wondering how it brought to me to The Blob, 1988 please click on the title of the film above.

Directed by Chuck Russell, The Blob 1988 is a remake of the 1958 film of the same name. The film was released by Tristar Pictures with a budget of $10 million. Unfortunately, the film received mixed reviews at the box office and only made $8.2 million and was deemed a flop for the studio but later became of a cult classic amongst fans.

The Blob is a story about a meteorite that crashes into a small town in America and after first contact with one of the locals, it slowly begins to absorb everything and everyone in its path. I was aware of this film and its predecessor but hadn’t watched either one of them before now but I have to say, I was really surprised this film was released in 1988? I know and understand it has a bit of 1950’s vibe but the visual style of the film is so far ahead of its time; it looks like something from the late ’90s in my opinion and a great achievement to everyone involved in its production.

The film reminds me of some of the great films and TV shows I have enjoyed, Twin Peaks, Wayward Pines, The Twilight Zone and more recently Stranger Things. You know when any meteor crash lands nearby, you have to poke it with a stick, right!!? I mentioned first contact earlier when describing the film but only because the homeless man reminded me of Zephram Cochrane of Star Trek fame and then I had a crossover episode happening in my brain.

I guess I should talk about some of the characters in the film but I must admit, there was only three I actually cared for. Brian Flagg Kevin Dillon plays the misunderstood and rebellious delinquent teenager brilliantly and some of his one-liners actually made me laugh “Feels like fucking Hansel and Gretel in here, I should have brought some Breadcrumbs” The homeless man takes second place and finally, his dog is my favourite character by far. That little dog growling at the meteor is some of the best acting in the film and he/she definitely should have won best supporting actor in my opinion. I guess I need to mention Paul McCrane as Deputy Billy Briggs, if anything came from another planet, it’s undoubtedly that moustache!

Tony Gardner worked on the special effects for the film, unexpectantly finding himself in charge of a crew of thirty-three. I was actually expecting a lot of early CGI effects for some reason but the use of practical effects in this film is pretty outstanding. I think the best scene for me is in the telephone booth as Fran Hewitt Candy Clark is trying to call Sheriff Herb Geller Jeffrey DeMunn. Fran finds herself surrounded by the Blob and the Sheriff’s face appears in the glass of the booth before it implodes. I will admit that left me feeling quite claustrophobic and unsettled. You can really get the sense that the effects team really got the chance to try something new in this film and some of the scenes still look amazing today and some, unfortunately, do not. That pretty much sums up my view about the film as a whole.

I really enjoyed watching The Blob but I didn’t love it. I did love the science-fiction element of the film as the meteorite turns out to manufactured the government. I guess this is a sign of the times and a real reflection on humanity’s lack of trust of those in power. Funny thing is, I decided to write about this film before we entered a global pandemic and there are some many theories about why and how we find ourselves in this situation. I appreciated the horror of the film and the Blob itself is pretty brutal and unforgiving. And finally, the comedy, which really lets the film down in my opinion. I can see how people appreciate it though and I can only imagine that watching this when it was released was pretty spectacular. Chuck Russell went on to direct The Mask which made all the money and you can see early glimpses of his brilliance in this film. Also, I have a feeling this isn’t the last time we will see the Blob on the big screen.

Well, I wonder where The Blob will take me next on Part:18 of my Journey into Science-Fiction? First, I was going to follow the screenplay writer Frank Darabont and watch Minority Report but his writing went uncredited on the film so it didn’t feel right. Next, I noticed that the cinematography was done by Mark Irwin, who worked on Scanners, and Class of 1999. I have watched one of these films and I’m really curious about the other and I have to say I’m torn on which one to choose? So I am asking you for your help. I have created a poll on my Facebook page, so if you would like to vote which film I should watch next, click on the link below.

https://www.facebook.com/colp76/

Anyway, what are your thoughts and memories about The Blob? I am also looking to connect with other people, so please give me a follow or link to your work.  Thanks for reading and I hope you return for my next Journey into Science-Fiction.

https://talesfromtheneonbeach.com/my-journey-to-science-fiction/

The Blob, 1988. My Journey into Science-Fiction Part:17. Hello and welcome back to my Journey into Science-Fiction Part:17. I was thinking of a way to watch science-fiction films that I have might have missed in the past and take a deep dive into others that I have already watched and loved.