#this one took me a while bc i ended up scrapping like 5 other pieces for this prompt sorryyyyyyyy

[hellostarfleet]

hello i finished new vegas

wall of text thoughts. under read more bc sooooo many.

was kind of wishing by the end i'd known how much the game rewards rly picking and choosing what to make your stats... i didn't really appreciate this until i went from like 45 in energy weapons like this feels fine to 75 and was like I AM A PLASMA GOD!!!! so noted for next run (i did end with 100 in science and energy weapons I GOTTA be nosy and hack every terminal i see. or my courier will die.)

rly thought this about hour 5 but i wasn't expecting the legion to be so cartoonishly evil actually i knew they were bad but like. lol. CMON GUYS PUT SOMETHING BACK ON THE SHELF FOR OTHER BAD GUY FACTIONS... instead of the vipers/jackals/powder gangers/fiends just kind of being. free karma estate. (in retrospect i don't rly understand the point of karma as a system because after like level 5 i never even dipped to neutral karma. my courier was an angel. an angel who stole every cap, stimpak, box of ammo, and piece of scrap metal she could find from everyone and anyone in the greater mojave area. and killed. SO MANY PEOPLE.)

was kind of expecting the hoover dam battle to be like... bigger???? like just having more guys around. more chaotic. actually have a reason to go down into the hoover dam sublevels that they. built and modeled but i had no plot reason to go into and did wander into the first time i was there (mostly i was like "how much does this look like the real hoover dam" and then realized i don't really remember enough about the particulars of the interior to judge that kdjhdkdhdkj).

also maybe im just too much of a bioware kid but i also think it was kinda weird to not have all the little guys you recruited there but shrug. (also i wanted to see the superfortress. WHERE IS IT) anyway i did independent ending bc OBVIOUSLY the ncr has problems and OBVIOUSLY my courier could do better. i mean she has already almost single handedly solved every personnel and supply chain issue the NCR was having. she will definitely TOTALLYYYY set up some sort of council of local factions as soon as she's done having some portion of the securitrons clean up all the fucking rubble laying around in freeside bc it's bothering me. WHY HASN'T ANYONE EVER SO MUCH AS SWEPT MCCARRAN AIRPORT TERMINAL. i bet everyone would be slightly less miserable if you could walk down the street without the threat of tripping on rubble and impaling yourself on rebar. sorry what. you want local governance. citizen. pick up that can. then we'll talk.

anyway idk handwaving not storming through the legate's camp to the main part of the fort to get caesar with the securitrons was kind of weird. i wanna kill. which means i also apparently i missed my chance in life to kill vulpes. SAD. but i got to order yes man to throw a guy off the hoover dam. AND HE DID. so that ruled. (the duality of courier: last week she saved your president from assassination. this week she went hmm. i see. and tossed your top general off a dam.) also im sure yes man installing some updates to become more assertive will definitely not cause any issues. it's fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiine!!

ANYWAY despite all that i had a good time as evidenced by finishing it in the time i did oops. i had a good time. i actually didn't realize this game had a companion system i just thought it had a collection of pathetic men. which it does. but also i love having companions (although did get kind of tripped up on only being allowed to have one humanoid companion and one ed-e/rex. it was always ed-e btw bc rex was like continually under my feet im sorry boy.) i also travelled with boone for like 20 hours so it took me a while to realize like any other companion talks a lot more since im pretty sure stringing more than 3-5 words together causes him physical pain. i love that there's a scene for if you do give veronica a dress!!! i am still thinking about how hard arcade dissed me the first time i asked if he wanted to travel with my courier!!!!! i also asked if it could wait when i got his quest and he was like no actually im gonna keep talking and like. lmao. STILL DON'T KNOW WHAT THE ENCLAVE DOES I FEEL LIKE THE ANSWER IS JUST "GO PLAY FALLOUT 3"??? kind of like how visiting jacobstown was just "go play fallout 1 & or 2"

misc briefer thoughts ig:

WHY IS THERE A SNOWGLOBE IN SARAH'S VAULT 21 ROOM. HASN'T SHE LOST ENOUGH TO MR. HOUSE. i did not sell this snowglobe. please clap bc $$$.

loved exploring the vaults in that i hated exploring the vaults man. i think vault 11 wins for most fucked up and vault 34 wins for most times i thought "i fucking hate this" while i was there (but that's a personal problem bc feral ghouls. ueueuueueueueueue cries in a corner while arcade and ed-e shoot everything. nice moral dilemma at the end though. i saved the groundwater but oof. oughf.)

why do the options with dealing with the great khans suck so much lmaooo.... shoving ncr soldiers up against the wall for being like HA we showed theM CHASED THEM RIGHT OUT!! like girl no i told them to leave bc UR COMMANDING OFFICER SAID SHE'D USE THEM FOR CANON FODDER IF THEY ALLIED WITH THE NCR

also honestly same for all the dialogue about neslon bc sorry WHOOOOO kicked the legion out. bc it wasn't you guys it was boone and i doing a sidequest and then just going fuck it kill them all actually -

ok but speaking of NCR guys sorry to the misfits bc i did not have enough explosives to teach u how to explosives and then u all deserted and were hung. skill issue but sorry but skill issue -

because i had done all the vaults i. did finish most of the brotherhood quests ig and honestly was probably going to leave them alone except then i triggered veronica's quest and they wiped out that followers station so. hot take maybe you guys shouldn't have had like three terminals of kill everyone dead. also maybe don't preface yay we can leave again with thoughts on going at it with the ncr again imMEDIATELY what is wrong with you guys.

i feel like some other run im gonna go all in on punching and sneaking that sounds fun. or lead pipe run. i hope primm appreciated me liberating their big hotel in town and didn't think too hard about the piles of guys beat to death with a lead pipe.

the powder gangers and guys in vault 19 rly didn't do anything to me but if it will get me better epilogue slides. well i did get this gauss rifle too late in the game to really use it (ENERGY WEAPON SNIPER RIFLE. IDEAL WEAPON!!!)

i can't believe i have to pay $5 to experience mormons. actually is it even specifically mormon bible thumping or am i just assuming bc it's utah. anyway im gonna do it. but. lmao. (i was also surprised how much man on fire stuff was mentioned in the game proper since it is apparently dlc.)

is the ideal dlc order release order btw

[millenniummmbop]

Kaiba family outing for @dxmichelle​

o(*￣▽￣*)ブ

[rogertaylors-lipgloss]

Love & Lasagna- Chapter One

I know I have a couple of requests waiting but those are almost finished and should be up in the next few days. I’ve had a lot going on since school let out and I got really behind in my writing. BUT I hope you guys enjoy this new series, and should be updating the others very soon. Let me know if you’d like to be added to this taglist or to my permanent taglist. 

This is a Prof!Gwilym x Reader. 

Warnings: 18+, smut, maybe some cursing, forbidden romance, unprotected sex (no glove no love, peeps)

Word Count: 4.5k+ (I can’t check for sure bc Word has decided to glitch)

It was a rainy Wednesday afternoon. Y/N tapped the end of her pencil on the table, barely paying attention to the words drifting from the professor’s lips. After a particularly grueling shift the night before at the local café she worked at, she found it increasingly difficult to stay awake. This was her favorite part of the day, her class with Dr. Lee. She was his graduate assistant, and although the freshmen in World History 101 could be a little tiresome, she loved her job. What she loved even more, however, was how close she had become to Dr. Lee. He was British and had moved to the U.S. to teach at the university she had been at since undergrad. His face was striking, with a subtly pronounced jawline covered in light stubble, and his deep, hazy blue eyes were set off by his neatly coifed brown hair. Today, his tall, slender (yet still muscular) frame was accentuated by a crisp white button-down tucked into a perfectly tailored pair of tan chinos. Even in her drowsy state, Y/N swooned internally.

Though there was always an air of professionalism between the two, she couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like to kiss him. She shook the thought out of her head. He may not be her professor anymore, but he was still her superior. Not to mention he was on the committee overseeing her thesis. But she couldn’t help be remember fondly the first time they graded exams together.

-----

She had been in her office after hours attempting to grade some of the 100+ papers she had stacked neatly in front of her. Gwilym had been on his way out when he heard the faint sounds of music coming from down the hall. He hadn’t expected to find you, but there you were. She startled at the sound of him knocking on the door. “What are you still doing here?”

“Uh, well, some hard-ass left a giant stack of papers here for me, so…” Gwilym laughed and her face broke into a wide, toothy smile.

“I’m sure he- or she-“ Y/N giggled. “- meant well. Maybe I could be of some assistance?”

“Well, I mean, considering you’re the hard-ass in question, I figure that would be the least you could do. Your office or mine?”

Gwilym glanced around at the small, cramped space. “Mine. Definitely”

He picked up the stack of papers while she slung her backpack over her shoulder. After locking the door, she followed him down the hallway to his office. Since he was one of the more recent professors to join the history department, he had also been stuck with a drab basement office. Y/N had been in his office many times. It was the same size as the TA office she shared, but with only one desk it was significantly more spacious. After settling into a pair of chairs, Y/N and Gwil settled in for a long night of grading. They sat in comfortable silence, interrupted every so often by exchanging jokes about some of the responses the students had left on their exams. “This one really thought Henry VIII broke with the church to marry Elizabeth I, his daughter!” The two laughed heartily and a conversation about the prevalence of royal incest ensued. The night continued on this way until Y/N had some trouble making out one of the written responses.

“Dr. Lee- “

“Gwilym.” He corrected.

“Right. Gwilym. Can you make this out by any chance? This one must think they’re a doctor.” Y/N walked over to where he was sitting, and leaned over his shoulder, placing the stapled packet within his view. His breath hitched at how close she was. She noticed but interpreted it to mean that she was crossing a line. She cleared her throat and took a step back.

“Ah, so the question is ‘what was the name of the pope who excommunicated Henry VIII,’ and they appeared to have answered incorrectly. Unfortunately, ‘that one pope dude’ is not a sufficient answer.” They laughed together again, and he handed the paper back to her.

They sat there grading for another hour, Gwilym glancing at her every so often. Her soft, Y/S/C face was framed by stunning Y/H/C hair. He had noticed it before, but only now did fully take it in. Not only was she intelligent, but she was undeniably beautiful and had a sense of humor that perfectly matched his own. When they finally called it a night, she waved goodbye as they went their separate ways. He watched longingly as she walked away, relishing the subtle swaying of her hips. Little did he know that she had fallen asleep that night touching herself to the thought of him. 

-----

Dr. Gwilym Lee glanced up at Y/N occasionally as he droned on. Y/N was a bright student. Typically attentive and engaging in class, he couldn’t help but wonder why she looked like she was going to pass out at any given moment. Sighing, he shut down the projector and dismissed the class. The other students quickly disappeared while Y/N collected her things, not noticing Dr. Lee striding towards her desk as she shoved her notebook into her bag.

“Y/N?” Her head snapped up, meeting his gaze as a deep blush rose to her cheeks. “Are you feeling quite yourself today?”

His accent never failed to make her knees weak, but she steeled herself and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ears. “I’m sorry Dr. Lee, I just had a late shift last night and my car wouldn’t start when I clocked out. I had to walk all the way back to my dorm and I had barely been asleep when some idiot pulled the fire alarm. By the time they let us back inside, I had to shower and get ready for my meeting with Dr. Barnett. I know that’s not an excuse, I won’t let it happen again.”

She was so frantic that Gwilym placed a calming hand on her shoulder. Y/N’s heart fluttered at his touch. “Don’t worry, Y/N. You aren’t in trouble.”

Letting out a sigh of relief, she felt visibly more at ease. “Thank you, Dr. Lee.”

Chuckling, Gwilym gave her shoulder a squeeze before letting his arm drop. “I’ve told you, Y/N. You can call me Gwil.”

“Right, okay. Gwil.” A smile crept across her face. She shifted her weight from foot to foot. Being this close to him made her nervous.

“Next time something like that happens, call me, yeah? I don’t live too far from campus and I’d rather lose a little sleep than have you walking alone at night, okay?” Her eyes widened, but she nodded.

“Do you have other classes today?” He looked at her inquisitively over the rim of his glasses. She shook her head. “Work?” She shook her head again. “Good,” he smiled. “Why don’t you try to go get a nap in, yeah? I had been hoping to discuss your thesis progress, do you think you’d be up to meeting me in my office later this afternoon? About 5-ish?”

“Sure thing, Dr.- I mean, Gwil. Sorry. I think I can manage that, Gwil.” He chuckled at her as she mentally chastised herself.

“Wonderful. I’ll see you then, just make sure you get some rest first.”

Y/N made her way back to her dorm room, but instead of going inside to sleep, she was confronted with a ribbon tied to the door handle. Shit, she thought. The ribbon was the code she and her roommate, Georgie, had decided on to signify when they had a “companion.” Unfortunately for Y/N, Georgie had been using this code at least three times a week. She was still in her undergrad, and although she was always friendly, Y/N couldn’t help but wish she had forked out the extra cash for a single dorm. Or an apartment, she thought. Georgie was only 19, and at 24, Y/N felt a bit out of touch with the culture of sex and partying that Georgie had bought into.

Sighing, Y/N walked back across campus to the building that housed the history department. If she couldn’t sleep in her own bed, maybe she could at least find respite in the TA office. It was small and she shared it with about three other TAs. The office was tucked away, out of sight in the cold, dank basement, with four desks crammed tightly inside. She breathed a sigh of relief when she found it empty, the other assistants out for the day. Y/N flicked off the main light and turned on the small lamp she kept on her desk. Her desk was tucked away in the corner and covered with books for her thesis. Pushing the books to the side, she zipped up her hoodie and laid her head down on the desk. She had just started to doze off when she heard the door open.

“Y/N? I thought I told you to go home and sleep?” Y/N peered up at Gwilym, who stood in the doorway.

“You did. And I tried. Except my roommate was too busy not sleeping, if you catch my drift.”

Gwil’s cheeks flushed. “Ah, yes. Well, you should have texted me. I forgot I had to go to a departmental meeting this afternoon, so my apartment will be empty until later tonight. I could give you a key, if you’d like, that is.”

It was Y/N’s turn to blush. “Oh, you don’t have to do that. I’ll be quite alright- “

“Y/N, please. I insist.” Gwilym slid his spare off of his keyring and handed it over. Y/N nervously took it. He pulled a blank piece of paper out of the printer on one of the desks and scribbled something on it before handing it to Y/N. “This is my address. Like I said, it’s pretty close to campus.”

“Thank you, Gwilym.” He nodded at her before muttering goodbye and turning to leave.

-----

Y/N soon found herself standing in front of a small stone house, glancing back down at the scrap of paper to make sure she was in the right place. This is it. She walked up the pathway and unlocked the front door. Stepping inside, Y/N walked down the short hallway to the living room. The first thing she noticed was the books. The room was small, but with a cozy feel. There was a fireplace on the center of the back wall, with a leather couch and matching chair facing towards it. On the wall behind the couch, stood four tall bookshelves overflowing with books. Upon inspection, Y/N noted that they were predominantly history-related, with a few fictional classics thrown in. They were all meticulously organized by genre, then chronologically based on the period they covered. She chuckled to herself. Typical historian. It was how her own tiny dorm-sized bookshelf was organized.

It took minimal exploring to find the bedroom, given it was the only closed-off room aside from the bathroom. Inside, she found an immaculately made bed with white sheets and a matching white down comforter. It looked so comforting and inviting that Y/N almost climbed in still wearing her jeans. Shit, my jeans, she thought. With her dorm room occupied, she hadn’t been able to snag any of her pajamas. She could always sleep in her underwear, but then what if Gwilym came home and saw her? Would that really be so bad? She shook the thought out her head and walked over to the dresser, hoping he wouldn’t mind if she borrowed something. She pulled out a long pair of oversized, plaid pajama bottoms, and a plain white undershirt. Gwilym was relatively slender, but somehow Y/N managed to fit her hips into the pants. After changing, she pulled back the comforter and dove in. It felt like a cloud to her tired body, and she buried herself under the blanket. It took mere seconds for her drift asleep.

-----

It had been a long day for Gwilym. The meeting had run late, and it was 7:45 P.M. before he finally made it back home. He could hear light snoring coming from his bedroom and opened the door slightly to get a look. Y/N was still there, fast asleep. Her hair was a disheveled mess atop her head, and her lips were parted just enough for a small bit of drool to escape. Beautiful, he thought, though he immediately felt guilty. At 29, he was only a few years older than she was, having only finished his PhD two years ago and had been lucky enough to find a position shortly after. Age, however, was not the issue. Though she was not his student, she was still his assistant. The other professors would not look favorably upon such a relationship, though he had thought about it often.

She’d been his assistant for most of those two years, and over the course of that time he had fallen hopelessly head-over-heels. They often chatted together while they graded the undergraduate students’ papers and exams and found that they both had the same dry sense of humor. He loved the way her eyes always shut when she laughed, how she tugged on her ear lobe when she was deep in thought, and so much more. Sometimes he even thought she might feel the same but had brushed the notion to the side. She would never love someone like me, he thought. Little did he know about the butterflies that plagued Y/N every time she was in the same room as him.

He gently shut the bedroom door and made his way into the kitchen to put the kettle on. As he waited for the water to heat up, he picked up one his books and settled into the leather chair. Soon after, the kettle began to whistle. Shit, he hadn’t thought about the noise that came with making tea. He silently chastised himself, hoping he hadn’t woken her. He knew how much she needed the rest.

Y/N shot up in bed at the sound of the whistle. She looked over at the clock he had on his nightstand. “Shit,” she muttered to herself. She’d been asleep for almost five hours. Hearing noises coming from the kitchen, she begrudgingly climbed out of the warm comfort of the bed.

Gwilym had taken the kettle off the heat and was digging around searching for a mug. “Gwilym?” At the sound of you voice he whipped his head around.

“Y/N. Please forgive me, I forgot how loud the kettle was.”

She rubbed her eyes, still heavy with sleep. “S’okay. It’s my fault for oversleeping.”

He glanced up and down, recognizing the clothes she was wearing as his own. A grin tugged at the corners of his lips. “I see you made yourself at home.”

Her cheeks burned red, and she stuttered, “Oh, uh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to sleep in my jeans, and I couldn’t very well sleep naked- oh my god.” She didn’t think it was possible, but she felt her cheeks get even hotter when the word “naked” left her lips. “I’m so sorry, I’ll just go change and I’ll be out of your hair.”

As she turned to walk back to the bedroom, Gwilym reached out for her wrist without thinking. “Please don’t go. It’s alright, love.” It was his turn to blush. In a moment of spontaneous boldness, he commented, “Looks better on you anyways.”

Her eyes widened and she looked down to hide her smile, though it didn’t go unnoticed by Gwil. Clearing his throat, he tried to ease the awkward tension. “Would you like to stay for dinner? We never did get the chance to discuss your thesis. I’m not the best cook, but I can make a mean lasagna.”

“Anything would be better than another night of microwaved Ramen. And if I see one more Lean Cuisine I might die.”

Gwilym laughed. “Well, we mustn’t have that. God only knows where I’d be without you in class with all of those freshmen. If I hear one more question that could be answered by reading the syllabus, I WILL die.” They both giggled at that.

Y/N walked around the small kitchen island. “So, chef Gwil, how can I help?”

-----

After dividing up tasks, the two quickly completed their masterpiece and placed it in the oven. “How long do we wait?” Y/N rubbed her stomach, not realizing until just then how hungry she was.

“About forty-five minutes,” Gwil said as he set the timer on the stove. Y/N let out a groan and Gwilym laughed at her reaction. “There, there, it will pass in no time. Oh, hold on. You’ve got a bit of sauce- “

He reached over to wipe a bit of tomato sauce off of her cheek with his thumb. Her breath caught as his sudden touch. He gulped and started to pull his hand away but was surprised when Y/N placed her hand over his. He stepped closer until she could feel his breath on her forehead.

“Y/N,” he whispered. She felt a chill run down her spine.

“Gwilym.” She closed the short distance between them and pressed her lips against his. She was surprised at how soft they were and even more surprised when his hand left her cheek and slipped into her hair, pulling her closer to him. He politely swept his tongue across her bottom lip before deepening the kiss. She moaned into his mouth as Gwilym reached around her to lift her up, setting her down on top of the island counter. She wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him in.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” He uttered between kisses.

“I think I have some idea.” She pressed her hips into his pronounced erection, and he let out a soft moan.

The t-shirt she had borrowed from him started to fall off her shoulders, and Gwilym pressed kisses to the exposed skin, working his way from her shoulders to her clavicle. “You’re so incredibly beautiful, Y/N.”

“I’ve wanted you for so long, Gwil.” She answered, her head falling back as he marked her neck.

“And I, you.” He lifted her back up, allowing her time to wrap herself around him more securely before carrying her into the bedroom. He laid her back down on the plush comforter she had been buried in not too long ago. Y/N tugged at his belt, unbuckling it quickly before plunging her hand underneath the waistband of his pants and boxer briefs. His breath caught in his throat as she palmed his bare erection. She could tell by the outline on his pants that he was large, but she never expected what she found when she finally freed him from his underwear, working her wrist up and down him in steady strokes. He moaned before pushing his pants the rest of the way down his legs before kicking them off the bed, with his shirt quickly joining them on the floor. She only paused her movements for Gwilym to pull his t-shirt over her head and stood up briefly to remove his pajama pants from her body.

She started to climb back into the bed, but Gwil stopped her gently. “Please, let me just take you in for a moment.” She blushed but complied. Gwilym had often wondered what she would look like undressed, but now that he was confronted with the reality of her standing in her underwear in his bedroom, he was speechless. She silently thanked God that she actually managed to put on a matching bra and underwear. He quietly admired the way the purple fabric contrasted with her skin, then patted the space on the bed next to him. She belly-flopped onto the bed, and he let out a loud laugh. She grinned at him before moving to straddle him. His eyes shut at the erotic feeling of his naked member brushing against the thin fabric of her panties. Putting his hands on her back, he held her in place as he moved up the bed until his back was against the headboard. He cradled her in his arms and she slowly ground her hips into his.

She could feel his erection growing harder and the neediness she felt in the pit of stomach was becoming unbearable. Sensing this, Gwilym looked into her eyes. “Are you sure this is what you want, love?” She nodded fervently. Gwil reach behind her to unhook her bra and she stood up on the bed so that he could pull her panties off easily. She sat back down next to him and let her head fall back on a pillow. Gwil positioned himself at the foot of the bed and lightly pushed her knees apart. He trailed kisses up each of her thighs before finally settling in the spot she needed him most. Her body jolted with pleasure as he attached his lips to her folds, and she absentmindedly laced her fingers tightly in his hair to hold him in place.

“You’re so wet for me,” he breathed before reattaching to her clit. His name tumbled from her lips, over and over, the sound like heaven to his ears. When she moaned as two of his fingers slipped inside, he rutted his hips into the mattress for relief. “D’you like that love? Come for me, Y/N.”

He continued pumping his fingers and felt her start to tighten around them.

“I need you Gwil. All of you, please.”

God, even her whining is enticing, he thought. “Don’t worry love. This isn’t even the start of all the things I want to do to you. Want to make you feel good,” he murmured into her pelvis. “Do you think you can take one more, sweetheart?”

When Y/N nodded, Gwil carefully added a third finger and began pushing his fingers into her with more aggressive enthusiasm. She began to unravel around his unforgiving pace and felt herself tiptoe closer and closer to the edge of pure bliss. His mouth and fingers were relentless, and even as she fell over the edge, he kept up his pace until she was convulsing with the best orgasm she’d ever had. He pulled his fingers out of her, and the sight of him licking her wetness off of his fingers was almost enough to make her fall over the edge again.

Gwilym slid up the mattress until his face was level with hers. She turned and placed her hands on either side of his head before initiating another deep kiss. She pulled him until his entire body hovered over her own. His lips attached to her neck, and though she was still sensitive from her orgasm, she didn’t want to wait any longer. “Gwil,” she breath into his ear. “Please Gwil.” Her hand snaked down the length of his torso until she felt his member in her hand. He was so worked up that he bucked into her hand as she began stroking him. “You’re so needy, baby. Tell me what you want.”

Her words elicited a quiet moan from him. “You. Just you.” His lips met hers hard before he aligned himself with her entrance. He looked into her eyes once more. She nodded and he finally entered her.

Y/N had been with other men before, but none of them had even come close to filling her up as fully as Gwilym did. Her eyes rolled back in her head as he gave her a moment to adjust. After a few seconds, she pushed her hips up to meet his, silently giving him permission to begin.

He started slowly, afraid of hurting her. She felt heavenly around his cock, like she was perfectly made just for him. But she was just as needy as he was and kept bucking against him in an attempt to speed up the pace.

“So eager,” he chuckled. “Use your words, Y/N.”

“I need more of you, Gwil. God, I need more.” A moan escaped her lips at his tantalizingly slow pace, and he smirked down at her.

“All you had to was ask, my sweet, sweet girl.” He pecked her cheek before sliding his hand behind her head. He readjusted his weight and held her close as began to thrust into her with a renewed sense of purpose. He wasn’t going to last long, especially not with the cries that were flowing from her lips. She was so warm, and all she wanted, at least in that moment, was him.

When Gwilym felt her walls tighten again, his movements became more erratic.

“I’m so close, love.” He was struggling to hold back, but he knew he couldn’t for much longer.

“Me too, oh my God Gwil please. Please.” That was all it took for his hips to stutter as he released his warm, sticky fluid inside of her. The warmth the coated her walls was enough to send her tumbling back over the edge. Her vision went black and he continued moving inside her, coaxing her through the wave of pleasure that had taken over every inch of her being.

Her body trembled as she came down from her high, and though he was gentle, she cried out when finally pulled out of her. Gwilym held her tightly, steadying her as the began to come back down to earth. He sweetly kissed her temple, her nose, then her mouth. She parted her lips, inviting him to deepen the kiss. They laid there making out for short while.

Suddenly, Gwilym broke the kiss, pulling back slightly but his hand remained fully entwined in her hair.

“Y/N, I want you to know that this wasn’t just sex to me.” She looked up at him with wide eyes. “I know there are consequences to what I’m about to say, but I have to say it. I have been in love with you since the first night you came into my office to grade.”

She didn’t hesitate. “I love you, Gwilym.” She looked up at him through her eyelashes, taking in the surprised look on his face. He hadn’t dared to hope that she would feel the same way and hearing it out loud was more than he could ever want. “How do we do this?” She asked.

“I don’t know. You only have a few months before you graduate. We just have to keep this between us until then, and maybe for a little while after to avoid suspicion of foul play.”

Y/N didn’t like keeping secrets but knew that in this case she’d have no choice but to make an exception. “What about my thesis?”

“Well, we’ll just have to continue as normal. It would look odd if I suddenly resigned from the committee.”

Y/N nodded, and Gwilym pressed a knowing kiss to her temple. “I know this is difficult,” he said. “But I love you and I want to be with you. It will be okay, Y/N. No matter what happens, you will always have me.”

She smiled, and then jumped up out of the bed. Panicked, she looked at Gwilym and shouted, “THE LASAGNA!”

Permanent Taglist: @disasterdeacy

[possiblypeachy]

tea & schemes. (6)

―; summary: welcome distractions can be found in the library-- besides the books, of course.

―; pairing: jacob frye x ofc

―; word count: 4.5k

―; warnings: none(?).

―; A/N: i... love them... a lot. writing this is like playing with little dolls and making them hold hands n stuff except!! i’m a baby that has an awareness of the healthy progression of a relationship and so i keep them just out of reach of each other to intensify the pining!! how splendid and good of me!!!! :))

anyway, please do enjoy!! (also, i made a pinterest board for this so hmu if you want me to send you the link bc it’s practically an amalgamation of pictures that make me happy)

―; part: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

― ❊ ―

“Freddy?”

Florence took the hat she had been wearing and placed it on the table beside the door, haste dictating each of her movements. From placing cutlery on the dining table, Lissie gave her a sidewards glance, an eyebrow quirking upwards, but said nothing yet; if there was to be a quarrel, they could get it all out first before registered pacifier, Felicity Marlowe, would step in.

“Freddy?” For a young woman raised from birth to be delicate and heavenly, Florence sure did have a set of lungs on her. If Frederick hadn’t heard her shouting from downstairs yet, he might as well have been deaf. Even Lissie flinched back at her volume.

Floorboards creaked above them. Lissie stifled a laugh when a loud sigh could be heard at the top of the stairs. When Freddy’s face finally emerged from behind the corner, practically dragging himself down the stairs, she had to leave the room, lest she further irritate the man.

“You’re doing an excellent job of annoying the neighbours, my dear sister.” He observed, trudging toward the dining table to take a seat. Florence did the same, taking a spot right in front of him. After flattening and smoothing her skirts down, she leant forward on the table, hands clasped together just before her bowl. Upon noticing the seriousness in her posture, a worry began to grow within him. He gave a quick glance down to her interlocked fingers and noticed a slip of white between the gaps. “What’s this about?”

The fingers of Florence’s right hand dipped behind those of the left and emerged with a piece of paper-- evidence of her escapades. She slid it across the table toward her brother. “I met a lovely man in the library today; he was all charm and smiles. He even quoted some of Dickens’ work to woo me.”

Brows pulled downwards, Freddy took the slip of paper though had yet to look at it. “And, you think this is a world-ending problem why? Should he have quoted Shakespeare instead?”

She rolled her eyes and thrusted her still interlocked hand toward the note. “Read the bloody note, Fredd--”

“Hey! Elbows off the table.” Lissie, who had adopted a particularly maternal tone, scolded as she waddled over with the steaming pot of stew. It landed with a jarring thump! down onto the table beside them both. A tea towel hit Florence’s arm and she yelped, eyes meeting the blue of Lissie’s. “You should know this, lovely.”

Florence gestured between herself and Freddy. “He and I have something important to discuss; I think I should be allowed to put my elbows wherever I please, mother.”

Lissie chortled at her immaturity. “Your elbows are your own until food appears on this table. As soon as that happens, I’m afraid that I--”

“Revenge?” Both women stopped in their bickering to look at Freddy, who’s gaze dragged from the paper to his sister. His expression contorted, lips parted and brows knitted together as if speechless. “What does that mean, Florrie? What’s the man’s name?”

Lissie let out a small sigh when Florence leant toward her brother, elbows on the table, but began to spoon out the stew anyway, leaving the siblings to speak without her pestering.

“Willard Molyneux-Herbert.” The name rolled off of her tongue like a thick poison. “Ring any bells?”

She could see Freddy visibly dragging himself through his memories, gaze focused over her shoulder and into the past. Florence began to idly stir the stew with a spoon when her brother, unconvinced of his own mind’s capability, pointed into nothing. “I recall a… Alan Molyneux-Herbert. I brought him in a few months ago after his horrific surgical practices were presented to my people.”

Despite the unfortunate predicament she was in, that fire flickered to life in Florence’s eyes. Freddy suppressed a sigh upon noticing it. “He could be his older brother.” She got up on her feet to lean further toward her brother, scanning over as much of the note as she could so she could point to the line that backed up her theory. “See? They must’ve been close-- or business partners of some kind.”

He gave a hum, rolling the corner of the paper as he pondered. Then, he placed it to one side, prompting Florence to sit back down, and picked up his spoon. “Did he say anything… strange to you?”

“Besides being far too forward?” One of her eyebrows quirked upwards and Freddy grimaced, taking to eating a spoonful of his meal rather than replying. “He asked that I meet him again in the library tomorrow.”

After a few moments of quiet, his lips drew into a tight line. “I think you should.”

Florence scoffed before spooning a chunk of beef into her mouth. She covered her lips with the back of her hand as she spoke. “No objections to me doing the dirty work this time, brother dearest?”

Knowing that she’d hit back with something like that, he groaned. “It’s a public library; he can’t try to do anything in there besides torment you with his flirting.” He wiped the corners of his mouth with a napkin and gestured to her. “I’m certain, after your scuffle with Mister Fullmore, you can handle yourself around one man. If familial similarities tell me anything, I doubt this Willard is the largest bloke either.” Florence hummed, pointing her spoon at Freddy to confirm his point. “Besides, I can hardly take your place can I?”

She gave a small laugh. “I think I’d enjoy seeing you try.”

“I’m sure you would.” He replied with a smile-- the kind that was accompanied by a fond shake of the head.

They ate quietly for a while with only the grandfather clock on the other side of the room creating steady noise. Lissie pottered about between them as their bowls began to empty, cooing gently to Duncan who had hopped down the stairs to collect any scraps that fell onto the floor. When Freddy finally finished, he didn’t leave the table as usual and instead leant back in his chair, staring at his sister. She soon noticed this and dragged her gaze away from the remnants of stew in her bowl. Spoon still held close to her mouth, she prompted him with a raise of both brows.

He clasped his hands together and rested them against his stomach. “Mister Frye visited before you returned. He asked me to ‘apologise on his behalf for dashing off today’.” Freddy mirrored her raised brows, which hadn’t yet moved from their position. It was as though she was a rat caught in a larder.

Slowly, she raised herself up from her bowl, placing the spoon neatly onto the napkin at the side. “I was… on my way to the library and we ran into one another. He rushed away because--”

“I’ve known you since you came out of the womb, Florence; stop lying to me.” Frederick stopped her, rolling his eyes until they met hers again. She huffed but was given no time to defend herself. “It seemed like, from what he told me at the door, that he ran off without so much as a thought to you or your feelings--”

“He came to apologise--”

“-- and only had his sight on his… agenda for London. You shouldn’t want to spend all of your time with a man who doesn’t consider your emotions, Florrie.”

Florence widened her eyes and shook her head, like her brother was stupid and she was drawing attention to it. “I’m not heartbroken, Freddy; Mister Frye can do as he pleases. I’m not going to bloody marry the man.”

Frederick breathed out a laugh. “That’s the first sensible thing you’ve said in weeks.” Seemingly satiated with her answer, he stood from his chair and patted down his waistcoat and the lap of his trousers. He partly did this to avoid Florence’s scalding stare, her jaw clenched in an attempt to keep back a smile of disbelief. With that done, he turned and made his way to the stairs, presumably retiring for the evening before his sister could bite back with anything too venomous.

Florence sighed, slumping back in her chair so Lissie could collect her bowl and cutlery.

Well, at least tomorrow would be interesting.

---

Florence found Willard sat at the same table the next day. Now, she was somewhat late, though that was mostly due to the fact that she had been standing in the entryway wiping sweat from her hands for a good amount of time. Lying and acting to appease someone you know is one thing but it gets a lot scarier when you’re dealing with a man who, in a few scrawled words and a look or two, had made himself seem very… nasty.

For someone who had been sat, alone, in a library for goodness only knows how long, Willard didn’t seem to have all too great of an interest in any of the hundreds of books on offer. Instead, he played with his thumbs, strands of golden hair tumbling onto his forehead. It was stupid, Florence thought as she approached him, but she still couldn’t possibly bring herself to deny the fact that Willard was a terribly beautiful man.

When a chair scraped across the wooden floor in front of him, his head snapped upwards. For a moment, he looked almost innocent: green eyes wide and lips parted just enough for Florence’s eyes to linger on them. However, upon taking in her blush-coloured dress and the curls in her hair, that conniving twist appeared on his lips and she instinctively looked away.

“Dear lady,” he began, voice rumbling like the beginnings of a roar, “I thought it impossible that you look more beautiful than yesterday but it appears you have proven me wrong.”

Florence, in an effort to not be sucked into the whirling green of his eyes, rubbed her nose with a finger and acted like she was picking something from the skirt of her dress. “You flatter me, Mister Molyneux-Herbert.”

She sensed that he’d placed his upturned hand on the table in front of her and she finally dragged her gaze to him. His palm begged for her own. “Please, Miss Abberline, call me Willard.”

Florence smiled-- a courteous gesture though not at all genuine; it seemed to satisfy him enough. Her fingers relished in the cool wood of the table before taking their place in his hand. “If that’s the case, you may call me Florence.”

Like yesterday, he placed a lingering kiss on the back of her hand. She allowed her gaze to flicker away, seemingly flustered under the attention, her lips curling into a coy smile.

This was terrible. Horrendous. A nightmare. Florence delighted in her skill of manipulation but had never had to act so… submissive before. It seemed that Willard only held that sweet glint in his eyes when she shied away from him-- when she acted petite and enamoured by male attention. It made her want to tug her hand away and--

A cough sounded behind her and she jolted, pulling her hand away from Willard in the process. While not exactly how she had planned getting away from him, she was still grateful that it had worked. As Florence turned in her seat, ready to give the disturbance a small, thankful smile, she met a pair of hazel eyes.

Wait. She knew those eyes.

Her vision finally focused on the rest of the face.

Jacob.

Half of her said to turn around as to not make Willard suspicious of anything. The other half declared that if she simply spun around that it would look strange too. So, Florence faced halfway between them both, gaze able to dart between the pair. Though, with how peeved Willard looked, she didn’t particularly want to glance in his direction.

“Who are you? Can’t you tell that the lady and I are busy?”

So, he was an emotionally volatile man too. Great.

When Florence looked to Jacob, awaiting his response, he caught her eyes, brows twitching just enough for her to assume he was quite taken aback by Willard. “The name’s Jacob Frye, sir. I’m here to collect Miss Abberline; her brother says it’s urgent.”

A slight panic struck Florence.

What did Freddy need? Had something gone wrong? Was he hurt?

Wide eyes flickered over to Willard, her hands already arranging her skirts to make it easier for her to stand. There was a strange glint in his gaze. He was focused on Jacob; his sudden hostility had quietened. Much to her surprise, Willard didn’t open his mouth to speak again, instead leaving the conversation open to her.

“Why? What does he need?” Florence rose from her seat, eyes now trained onto Jacob. “He hadn’t said about something ‘urgent’ this morning.”

Jacob shrugged, giving an unknowing frown. “He didn’t tell me anything else-- only requested that you get back home as soon as you can.”

A hand to her forehead, she let out a heavy sigh. “Willard,” She began; Jacob seemed to be quite intent on listening in on the exchange, “I must cut our meeting short. I am beyond sorry but… Frederick never usually calls on me in such a manner so it must be important.”

“I can accompany you, dear lady. My carriage and driver should be nearby.” Willard tensed to stand but Jacob held out a hand. The blond slowly lowered himself once again. Florence could feel rage ebbing off of him-- likely thanks to being pushed about by a man of a lower class.

“Sergeant Abberline asked only for her. I can get her home safely, Will.” Willard visibly bristled and Florence could’ve sworn that she could see the beginnings of a smile playing at Jacob’s lips. “Now,” Jacob held out a hand, which Florence took, to help her out of the alcove, “if you don’t mind, the lady and I should be off.”

With that, he swept his arm in the direction of the exit-- a dramatic gesture that made Florence suppress a smile-- and the two of them left the building. She didn’t dare to even look back at Willard, lest he kill her with his burning stare alone.

When the thunder of carriages upon stone and the chatter of people returned to her senses, Florence turned to Jacob, who was still leading her along. A hand came to his arm, half to get his attention and half to give her the leverage to walk alongside him. “Right, Jacob, what’s the matter with Freddy? If he’s in the hospital for something, I swear--”

“Nothing’s the matter.”

“-- I will get my hands on-- wait. What?” Florence stopped on the pavement, expression crumpled with confusion. “What do you mean ‘nothing’s the matter’?”

Jacob, having realised that Florence had paused, reeled backwards to address her. There was a grin on his face that had an undertone of caution; he was unsure if he had made a mistake. What with the look of annoyed bewilderment painted across her features-- brows drawn together, lips parted, nose scrunched up-- it was expected for Jacob to have a genuine sense of worry settle in his stomach.

“I mean that you looked terribly uncomfortable in there and I thought, being the saint to society that I am--” Florence’s jaw shifted to one side slightly, her hands on her hips, in an attempt to keep a relenting smile from tugging at her lips. He was insufferable. “-- that I would be doing you a favour by stealing you away.” His eyes, having been thrown around dramatically while he was speaking, drifted hopefully back to her. One of his brows raised and his lips curled into an apologetic smile.

Florence said nothing.

Jacob stayed frozen in that position for a few moments more before slumping, sighing lightly. “I’m sorry for worrying you.” He held a hand out toward her, beckoning. “I’ll make it up to you with a surprise-- I promise.”

She looked between his hand and his face, then finally grinned. Jacob’s shoulders visibly relaxed and it only made her laugh, sweeping gleefully toward him. “Seems like I worried you there. Care about my feelings do we, dear Jacob? My brother was concerned that you didn’t.” Rather than taking his hand, she hooked her arm around his, leveraging herself to his side.

“You are a menace, Flor.” His smile said otherwise, however.

“Only to you.”

They locked eyes for a moment, smiles softening into something different altogether. Florence could suddenly feel her heart in her ears. There was that heaviness of breath in her chest-- a choking swell of her feelings.

No. No. Not again.

As though struck by lightning, her gaze darted away, blinking a few times like she was resetting herself. “Where might this surprise be then, Jacob?” Florence looked back to him, though she appeared to have steeled herself somewhat. When she noticed the light of concern in his eyes, a light squeeze came to his bicep alongside a smile.

Deciding against saying anything about the sudden change in her demeanour, he began to walk them both along the street. “Well, I recently met a bloke by the name of Robert Topping. Strange man, with an even stranger sense of fashion--”

“Yes, because you are the pinnacle of that area.” Her other arm moved around to tug at his untucked shirt and he batted her away, chuckling.

“You’ll see the man soon and you’ll be eating your own words, dear Flor.” Jacob shook his head, as if he were recalling Robert’s dress sense and shivering at it.

“Why? What does this Topping fellow have to do with where we’re going?”

“Will you let me speak without interrupting?”

Florence huffed out a laugh, gesturing in a forward motion with her hand. “Go ahead; I’ll try not to interject.”

Jacob nodded a ‘thank you’ as he tugged her down a backstreet, glancing from place to place to ensure he was going the right way. “Well, Topping is a bookie for a variety of events but my personal favourite are the fights. So, I thought I might bring you along to a fight club to watch a few matches-- get invigorated, you know?”

“Oh, I’ve heard of these fight clubs. Freddy often complains about them.” Florence mentioned. “I suppose he just doesn’t understand why people would fight against each other for fun.”

Jacob raised a brow. “You’ve heard of them before?”

“Why does that surprise you?” Florence glanced up at him, confused.

He paused for a moment, then shrugged. “I’m not sure, I just supposed there’d been a rule surrounding the secrecy of fight clubs or something.”

Now far too wound up in this string of their own thoughts, the pair walked in silence for a short time. Once again, Jacob seemed to have a knack for leading Florence down alleyways that she didn’t even know existed. He often gave a nod or a wave to people dressed in green-- his ‘rooks’, she remembered-- which she began to do as well, if only to seem more like a friend of Jacob’s than anything else; she supposed she didn’t want to get the reputation of ‘that bird that Jacob buys’. It appeared as though her upbringing-- filled with reminders to remain a respectable woman-- had stuck in some ways more than others.

Jacob turned to her for a brief moment, mouth opened, but no words came. One of her brows tugged downwards. “What is it?”

He looked away again and breathed out a sigh through his nose. “I don’t mean to… intrude on your personal business but--”

“Willard?” The light-heartedness in her tone relaxed Jacob and a relieved smile curved his lips.

“Yes. I didn’t realise you had a gentleman suitor, hm?”

Florence grimaced and made a noise akin to “blergh”. “No, I wouldn’t count Willard as that, despite his trying.” Jacob raised a brow, urging her to elaborate. “The first words he said to me were a quote from one of your dear old friend Dickens’ novels. Then, he introduced himself as the--” she mimicked a man’s voice, “--’third son to the Earl of Carnarvon’.” She sighed, throwing her hand into the air. “I mean, how pompous can one man be?”

Jacob had been grinning the whole time, quite amused with her ranting. “So, I take it you’re not interested then, despite his beautiful blond locks?” He acted like he was flipping hair over his shoulder and she laughed, shaking her head.

“I most certainly am not interested-- mostly because he supposedly has some kind of grudge against my brother and wants revenge by means of me.” He felt her grip on his arm tighten somewhat and realised that, although her tone sounded fairly unfazed by the idea, Florence was really quite angry. “I don’t understand why all men interested in me have some kind of criminal inclination.”

Jacob, an assassin and criminal by trade, gave a slight laugh, raising his eyebrows and averting his gaze by glancing down a nearby backstreet. “They certainly do.”

Quiet fell between them once again but only because he was considering. He took the few moments in which they descended a set of stairs to weigh up his options.

With a certain degree of courage mustered, Jacob asked: “Have you ever been with someone, Flor? Like... romantically?” as normally as he could.

She didn’t seem to pick up on the riot in his mind but still frowned somewhat. “Yes. Well, sort of. I tend not to enjoy thinking of it.”

He furrowed his brows. “Why not?” A cheeky laugh slipped passed his lips and an elbow nudged into her side. “Was he a disaster in bed?”

A harsh squeeze came to his arm and, through a chuckle, he yelped at the pinch it caused. When he looked to her, she was glaring at him but a light of amusement danced through the gold in her eyes. “No, Jacob, I’ve never even--” she paused, glancing to the side, defeated. He grinned, infuriating her further. She continued, if only to stop him from saying anything else. “Thomas Langhorne is the terrible man who I used to love but he broke my heart and is now married to my eldest sister, Harriett.”

Jacob blinked a few times at the speed in which she said this, having to rewind her words in his head. “What? He’s married to who? I feel like there’s more to this-- if you’re willing to tell, of course.”

Florence sighed quietly. It was a tender topic still and merely scraping the surface of it made her want to pummel Thomas. Though, the look in Jacob’s eyes was overbearingly patient and that little voice in the back of her head convinced her that perhaps sharing the memory might have a relieving effect.

“When I was fifteen, I fell in love with the mayor’s son, Thomas Langhorne. It was the kind of young love you read in books, you know? There were butterflies and nights stolen away and ugh!” She groaned, brows forced together. Honestly, it almost looked as if Florence could throw up at the thought. “He promised to have my hand in marriage and young me, being foolish, fell hopelessly in love with Thomas. I never understood why we had to keep everything a secret, however.” Ah, here was the problem, Jacob suspected. He could almost feel her nails piercing through his coat with how angrily she held his arm. “I figured out that little conundrum when I took a trip to our cellar and found him…” Florence grimaced and took a breath to brace herself, “... inside my sister.”

“Bloody Hell.” Jacob hissed through his teeth, looking down at her in disbelief. Her vision seemed to be glazed with fury and didn’t notice the concern for her in his eyes.

“It turns out they loved each other and Thomas had used me to get to Harriet. I was simply the idiot who thought I was in love.” Florence, feeling heavy-hearted but altogether like a weight had been loosened from her shoulders, gave a bitter little laugh. The grip on his arm lessened. “So, I have decided to stay away from all matters romance until I absolutely must marry someone, lest I have all of society frown upon me.”

Jacob felt a pang of hurt somewhere-- not at her declaration to steer clear of love but at the mere fact that such a man could take a treasure like Florence and stand on her like he did. It was terrible, he thought, that a young woman, during the years in which they all dream of falling in love, had barred herself from doing just that because of the selfish desires of this Thomas bloke.

“I don’t think you should give up on love so easily, Flor.” He mentioned to her, gesturing for her to let go of his arm and walk behind him down a tight alleyway. “Besides, this Langhorne fellow doesn’t seem like the ideal man.” There was a pause, then Jacob huffed out a laugh. “How big was he?”

When they emerged from the alleyway, getting closer to the distant sounds of a crowd cheering, the light that finally hit Florence revealed a mightily confused expression. She had an inkling of what he meant but wanted confirmation. Her eyes narrowed. “How do you mean?”

Jacob gave an impish grin. “You know: the downstairs.” He waggled his eyebrows and Florence snorted.

“I called the ordeal a ‘little conundrum’ for a reason, dear Jacob.” Amusement bled back into her eyes and the way she was smiling told him that she was keeping back laughter.

“Well then, you should forget little Thom being your first love. Let your sister have him, eh?” The pair came to a door and the roaring crowd was most certainly behind it. Jacob swept an arm forward to encourage her to go in front of him before he revealed the arena. “Find another first-- one who actually knows what’s right there in front of him.”

Perhaps Jacob was right; Thomas didn’t deserve to have such an impact on her life. He was a rat of a man and Harriett could keep him. Florence would find someone far better: someone who could make her laugh, who would calm her anxieties, who would adventure with her, despite what everyone says. Yes. Yes. She at least deserved that.

“Plus, I’m certain the next bloke you find will have a much bigger--”

Florence thrust the doors open and the two of them drowned in the roar of the crowd, bells ringing and bookies begging for bets. Despite the noise, she could sense that Jacob was chuckling behind her.

What a dastardly man, she thought with a smile.

[kisstheashes]

👀👀👀 Got anything you can tell us about SP?

OH BOY! Alright. Since you didn’t ask for any particular chapter, you’re getting a SHITTON of info. *cracks knuckles* Let’s get started.

This ended up being long af so there needed to be a cut!

1) When I first had the idea for SP, I was heavily inspired not only by SAW in general but SAW II in particular. SAW II takes place in an abandoned house (SP takes place in an abandoned warehouse for the first 8 chapters), and every person had an individual trap made specifically for them (the first 8 chapters are split up by person, and Anti has unique methods for all of them).

2) SP was the first story I’ve planned out for years. And still YET, it’s not what it was supposed to be. The original ending for SP was basically…nearly everyone dies.

2.5) What almost became the real ending (not the original ending, a different idea) was something like this: Anti kills Chase and has Schneep, but that’s where the similarities end. (suicide TW ahead) Anti was supposed to take Marvin and make him a puppet. And Jackie, traumatized and desperate to find his brothers, leaves a barely functional JJ alone and without help. So JJ ends up killing himself with Chase’s old gun while Jackie is looking for Anti’s hideout. Jackie comes back and sees a dead JJ and loses it. He can’t cope. It was supposed to end with Jackie standing by JJ’s grave, feeling like an utter failure, and Anti approaches him, tells him that since there’s nothing left for him here, what’s he to lose by becoming a puppet? And Jackie goes with him. I can’t tell whether that’s more or less tragic than the real ending.

3) When I FIRST sat down to start writing the very first lines, I had no idea who my main character would be. It’s such a little moment, but I remember it so so clearly. I was sitting on the edge of my bed, just waiting to see who would wake up first (a la SAW style) and I actually recoiled when it was Marvin. I never paid him any attention before SP. And I just went “Ma…Marvin?? Are you sure brain?? MARVIN??” Yes, my brain was sure XD

4) First chapter. Everything happened as planned, which if you are a writer or know us, you know this is very rare. Everyone woke up, the narration was smooth, the characters were introduced so nicely, and their relationships with Anti were automatically all so different from each other. It went beautifully.

5) Chapter 2: Static Corruption. This chapter gave me issues. I originally wanted Anti to force Schneep to “operate” on one of his brothers, but the pieces weren’t moving in that direction. Then I was like ‘oh, I’ll still keep the operation table there because he’ll likely need it since Anti won’t want his puppets to die.’ That…was supposed to happen but didn’t. The operation table ended up being there simply to mock Schneep. I would 100% go back and redo how I did that so that would come across clearer, since I know it’s purpose was left very vague. 

5.5) I am so SO proud of Schneep’s corruption. To be honest, I had no fucking idea what I was doing. I was still learning about Anti and his powers, how he does things, and honestly I should go back and reread it because it came together so well. And Schneep was the first to go because he had already been corrupted, and weakened. He was an easy target, and Anti KNEW he needed Schneep because he can’t easily heal wounds. Anti’s smart like that.

6) Chapter 3 & 4: Burn Marks. Anti had to take out Marvin early. He knew this like he knew he needed Schneep. Marvin was not only powerful but he was hard to break. He was controlled. He wasn’t easily moved to rash decisions and as long as his breathing was steady, he was in control. Hence the collar in ch 3. Anti also knew that Marvin could not use as much magic if he didn’t have his wand, hence taking it from him in the beginning of the chapter. And he knew Marvin was scared of fire. 

6.5) Character analysis aside though, this chapter was my first true dive into torture. I’d never written torture before this chapter. Never. I surprised myself, honestly. When I wrote Anti sticking the raw blowtorch into the cauterized cut, I was floored. I kinda didn’t know it was happening until it did. XD And Anti forcing Marvin to eat his own flesh was…somehow logical to me? I was like ‘maybe since Anti eats flesh he thinks Marv will like it too.’ Which was wrong. He just wanted to torture my son. But these two chapters are everything to me, being my first delve into torture. Really, these chapters, and especially chapter four, started it all. I was really excited to write more gore. 

7) Ch 5: Consequences. Everyone hates this chapter. When I get new readers now, about half of them who ‘like’ every single chapter will skip ‘liking’ this chapter. Because I was ballsy and killed Chase. In front of his daughter. Not only did I kill Chase, I dismembered him and had Anti eat his organs. That’s ballsy as fuck, but at the time I had no idea it was so ballsy. What I did think might be too much and what I do regret is not killing Jasmine instantly and only making that an illusion. I’ve said this before. I still hate myself for it. I should have just outright killed her. I wrote it to showcase how awful Anti is. I took it out because I ws scared. I regretted it the moment I uploaded it, and that’s when I told myself I’d never censor my writing again. So I don’t. While that’s an awful moment in the series, I did learn a very valuable lesson that I will pass onto every writer I know. When it comes to awful deeds, don’t censor yourself.

8) Ch 6: Questionably Human. First of all, this chapter wasn’t supposed to exist, point blank, period. When I originally wrote SP, this chapter wasn’t there. I added it in because as I edited through and understood Marvin more, I knew Anti would understand he couldn’t leave Marvin alone through dealing with all of the other Septics. He’s too resilient. So I added this chapter in. And it was also my first true delve into psychological toture/manipulation with Anti. Which is very interesting with my Anti, because he can’t lie. Working an entire chapter around half truths and whole truths was tricky. It was a challenge. But y’know, I think it probably helped me be able to do other tricky dialogue, like with Maze. 

8.5) Because writing Schneep as a puppet deserves it’s own bullet. I had NO idea how I was going to do this. Because of how my Anti’s puppets work, I didn’t have a clue how to do this. Anti’s puppets keep their base personality so he can have them out in the world, undercover ect without anyone seeing anything weird. But they also don’t have thoughts of their own, or really wants of their own, besides very basic needs. This is a tricky combination when it comes to the stubborn, mood-swingy, irritable, mind of his own doctor. And honestly, I don’t know how I pulled it off. I can’t remember how I did this so well. It’s just a blank XD

9) Ch 7: Broken Toys. This is my personal favorite chapter. JJ’s chapter was unqiue in so many ways, because he had a legitimate past with Anti. Anti pretended to be his friend, then tortured him for days on end. So we have long flashbacks that portray this, and I was really nervous they weren’t blended well. They have a dialogue where JJ speaks only in his head, which is very unique. And in this chapter, I faced one of my squicks. I hate eye gore. Yet I braved it and took JJ’s eye out with a melonballer, then Anti ate it. That was fuckin gross, tbh. XD The ending of his chapter though. It changed 3 times. The original ending did make use of the operation table, but I hated it bc I didn’t know how to write puppet Schneep and scrapped it. I think the second ending was JJ bleeding out on the floor. The third ending is the meathook ending. Absolutely horrific ending, when you take into account 1) its fucking meathooks and 2) they had to be ripped out of healed muscle and skin. I went balls to the walls for this chapter as well, and it fucking payed off. 

10) Ch 8: Glitched Death. This is the start of the chapters that are like ‘I’m writing it but idk where it’s going.’ I had no idea any of it was going to happen, but damn I’m glad all of it did. And again with the ballsy moves, disabling Jackie was ballsy as fuck. It shocked a lot of people like nothing had before. Though my most proud moment of this chapter was the fight scene. The last time I’d written a fight scene was when I was ten. I didn’t do any research or nothing. I just DID. And I remember a comment was “I didn’t know you could write fight scenes!” I didn’t either. But I remember being really happy to write Marvin as such a badass :D To show that he was ready to kill Anti no matter the cost. The worst part of the chapter was writing Jackie pulling the meathooks out. I hated that. I hated it so much. Listen, I know JJ deserved better. And how many of you caught that Anti was very weak as this chapter ended? ;)

11) Ch. 9: Irrepareable Damage. This chapter was hard to write. I hadn’t jumped time like this for a long time. The first 8 chapters all take place in one night. Ch 9 took place over a month and a half, showcasing the immediate aftermath of what happened. Chase and his daughter were dead. Jackie was wheelchair bound. JJ had limited sight and mobility. Marvin’s panic disorder grew worse, and they all had night terrors. It was endlessly emotional. And then…you get to the end. And it hits you in the fucking gut. Anti carves his name into Marvin’s skin, while essentially having him drugged. And Marvin comes to, and sees the wound, and cries. He’s reaping what he sowed and he hates every minute of it.

12) Ch 10: Torn Stitches. I still don’t care for this chapter. It feels too dull. But you guys seemed to like it, so I guess that means its good, right? This chapter was special to me though, because I’d never touched on Marvin’s backstory much. And it was important to me that you all knew it, for some reason. Plus his old friends just fit into the narrative, so I indulged myself. And that’s the other thing. First chapters with OCs. I don’t care for Silas that much, but I really like Whitney. She’s fun. This chapter was necessary as well, so you could see all of the aftermath slowed down. See how damaged they are, and see the aftermath of the carving. Which I again smack ya’ll in the face with the end. 

13) As closing, this story is my baby. And i’ve got a lot more angst coming for it, even if only 2 chapters are left (supposedly). 42.5k words, 11 chapters, and we ain’t done yet. I’ve got huge plans for the next chapter, so watch out for it. ;)

Author Commentary?

[dancingskys]

Hii lovely! I seen you’re taking requests and I’m so happy! Can you do one where yoongi gets lost in the woods looking for Jungkook bc they were playing a game and he gets really scared then Jungkook ends up finding him and comforts him an says he didn’t mean to scare him?

Pairing: YoonKook

Word Count: around 1,800

Thank you for sending in a request, I hope you like it~

You can find all Mini Stories I’ve written here

In the middle of the summer you didn’t go out during the day, you went out when it was around 8pm with a ton of insect spray covering your skin and making it sticky and gross even after showering three times. You went when out the sun was slowly starting to fall like a ball in slow motion, when the sky was still a strikingly shade of clear blue and would slowly fade to an peachy orange color.

The sound of crickets would make you go wild after a while but those were still better than being roasted under the blazing sun like the last steak left on the grill to sizzle for hours because no one was hungry anymore.

Yoongi right out refused to leave the house before 7pm and then only when someone was in a really sticky situation like that one time Namjoon had gotten his pants stuck trying to jump over a trash can - don’t ask - and Hoseok had refused to leave him alone, maybe afraid of having the younger kidnapped in his helpless state so Yoongi has had to go out at 5:57pm (!) with a pair of scissors and a small pocket knife and cut Kim Namjoon a hole into the back of his pants to set him free. The tiny scrap of cloth left behind was still stuck on the trash can even a year later and none of the friends would ever let him forget that moment.

So when Jungkook asked Yoongi to come out and play at 7:36pm the older stared at his alarm clock for a full minute before staring outside and sighing loudly like the weight of teh world was resting on his shoulders, already knowing they he would miss his aircon the second he stepped outside.

Fine he typed back and five minutes later he was waiting at the corner of the street, wearing a white shirt and a pair of jeans shorts because in this weather even he wasn’t crazy enough to go for long sleeved hoodies.

He was grumpy though because Jungkook was late and he was therefore left to sweat in the sun because of course there was no shade at this corner.

Just as he thought he was about to melt into the ground in a Yoongi-shaped puddle arms wrapped around him and something warm pressed against his back which made him growl. “Get your paws off of me,” he hissed and Jungkook laughed. “But you’re so good for cuddling.”

“We’re closed for cuddles when it’s over 27°C and currently we have 34°C so fuck off you octopus.”

Jungkook didn’t mind the gruffness that came with the heat and just laughed again, stepping back and taking the elder’s hand into his, pulling him along. “Come on then, you grumpy cat, we’ll go somewhere cooler.”

“Your hand is all sweaty,” Yoongi whined but let himself be pulled along. “So is yours~” was the answer he got and decided to just stay quiet after sighing yet again.

“Really? You want to play in the woods?” Yoongi asked a while later and looked around, not recognizing the small path Jungkook lead him along.

“Mhm, we found this really cool spot a few weeks ago and it’s great for hide and seek,” the younger said happily, his smile just adorable so Yoongi didn’t have it in him to say that maybe that wasn’t such a good idea. “Fine,” he said reluctantly. “But we’re not playing until it gets dark.”

“Scared of a squirrel sneaking up on you?” Jungkook teased but let it be when the older glared at him. “Okay, okay, only for a bit and then we’ll leave again.”

Half an hour later and Yoongi was squatting behind a tree that had fallen over, probably during the last storm, counting the rocks at his feet and asking himself how the younger could always talk him into doing these things, this was so not like him at all. He did accompany the others when they went out to play more often than not but playing hide and seek in the woods with mosquitos swarming around him and plotting his downfall, a bug certainly crawling over his skin somewhere and the air almost flimmering the the lingering heat that just didn’t want to go away.

“Gotcha!”

Yoongi might or might not have screeched as those words were whispered right next to his ear, stumbling forward and needing to steady himself with his hands on the ground, whipping his head around to Jungkook who smiled at him innocently. “Your blond hair kinda gives you away,” he sang and Yoongi huffed. “Next time I’ll come back with a leaf-hat, yeah?”

“Fashionable,” the younger snickered. “Watch out so no squirrels attack you though.”

“You little-”

“Count to sixty!” Jungkook called as he dashed away and the older huffed, covering his eyes, saying the first few numbers out loud before mumbling them quietly. When he uncovered them a minute later there was no trace of Jungkook in his white shirt and basketball shorts. They were bright red so you’d think it would be easy to spot them but apparently not.

Yoongi looked around but started wandering when he didn’t see a flash of red anywhere. He looked behind trees and rocks, eyeing the bushes suspiciously but there was no pair of shoes peeking out so he brushed off the idea.

“Say peep!” he called, waiting for Jungkook to make a sound to let him at least know the general direction but of course the younger stayed silent. “Figures,” Yoongi grumbled and continued looking, getting further away from his original spot.

“Say peep!” he tried again but nothing. “Jungkook!” he called, looking around and feeling a little uneasy. No, no, the younger had to be somewhere.

“Jungkook!” he called again, more serious this time. “Come on, you won.”

Nothing.

Yoongi started biting on his finger nails nervously, glancing around and hoping to spot something red but there was nothing.

He turned around and stared at the many trees a little lost. Which way had he come from again?

Something akin to panic settled in his chest and he tried to swallow it down.

“JUNGKOOK!”

…

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Yoongi chanted under his breath, his thoughts racing. His mind started coming up with the worst scenarios; Jungkook lying somewhere unconscious, the younger being kidnapped by some crazy person, him hitting his head on a rock, falling down and breaking his leg.

What if Yoongi couldn’t find him? Where was he?!

The blond tried to swallow past the lump in his throat but the panic in his chest didn’t allow him. Instead his eyes started stinging.

No, no, no, fuck, stay calm!

“JUNGKOOK!” his voice broke in the middle and he took some shaky breaths, looking around.

He was fucking lost and he had fucking lost Jungkook! How could he go back?! How could he tell his family?! He’d have to go to the police and tell them he’s missing and what if they never found him again?!

Yoongi started pacing aimlessly, looking everywhere almost frantically, calling the younger’s name again in a choked up way.

He had lost of fucking child in the woods and Yoongi was the worst person ever, he couldn’t even watch out for the younger during hide and seek, what kind of person would even-

“Hyung!”

Yoongi jumped and whipped his head around, blinking a few times with his heart up in his throat. He stared at the sheepish-looking younger and his brain needed a few moments to process what he was seeing before he launched himself at Jungkook, the latter stumbling backwards and landing on his back after tripping, grunting under Yoongi’s weight.

“YOU LITTLE FUCK!” the older screeched. “This isn’t funny! Do you know how fucking scared I was you little piece of sh-” he choked on his words and tried to breathe somewhat normally while tears blurred his vision and his sobs made him hiccup.

Jungkook looked up at him like a kicked puppy. “Sorry,” he said quietly, no trace of his usual goofiness to be seen. “M’ sorry, hyung…” he sat up, Yoongi scooting back a little so he wasn’t sitting on his stomach and using his hand to wipe at his face messily and sniffle. “M’ sorry,” the younger said again. “I wasn’t trying to… I was just… I was stuck in a tree,” he admitted quietly, Yoongi looking at him weirdly which made him rub the back of his neck in an embarrassed manner.

“Getting up was easy but I took a little to get down and you had already wandered off so I was trying to catch up.”

“You could have said fucking peep!” Yoongi growled, some stray tears still escaping his eyes and pushing at Jungkook’s chest. “I did,” the younger whined. “But you didn’t heard and then you were going somewhere else so I was trying to catch up. I really didn’t mean to scare you, I’m sorry.”

Yoongi took a deep breath to calm his nervous before wiping over his cheeks one more time. “Fine,” he muttered, still a little choked up. “I’m not playing hide and seek with you again.”

“In the woods.”

“No, not ever if you can’t say peep.”

“I did!” the younger whined but Yoongi just hmpfed and stood up, trying to get the dirt off his knees. “Let’s just leave. That tree over there looks strange and I have the feeling it’s staring at us,” the blond muttered and Jungkook snorted but took the other’s hand anyway, leading him back to the part even Yoongi recognized again.

“Where are you going?” the older asked later when they were back on the streets, Jungkook sending him a sweet smile. “Ice cream, as an apology gift.”

Yoongi sighed somewhat fondly and agreed, letting the younger buy him a cone with three scoops of ice cream that they ate on the opposite side of the street where they could sit on a small wall.

“By the way, you’re really bad at the seeking part, hyung. I was literally above you and you didn’t even notice.”

“I didn’t expect you to connect with your inner monkey and climb a tree, idiot.”

“I could have leaned down and we could have reenacted the kiss from Spiderman.”

“Or I could have ignored you.”

“You’re so charming.”

“I know.”

Jungkook chuckled and shook his head. “Okay, fine, no Spiderman-kiss then.”

“Good,” Yoongi mumbled and tried to safe his hand from a trail of ice cream that ran down the side of his cone when Jungkook suddenly leaned over a pressed a smooch onto his cheek, his lips cold and a little sticky because of the ice cream which caused the older to scrunch up his nose.

“There, an ice-cream-cheek-kiss,” Jungkook said proudly and Yoongi didn’t have it in him to argue.

“Thanks,” he mumbled and the younger smiled happily.

“That’ll ward off the squirrels.”

“I’m gonna murder you one day.”

[bluerene]

river, part one [starx]

hi 

it’s been a looooong while since I’ve really posted any writing (coughLIABILITYcough) but I’ve been working on this for a while and it feels worthy of being put up. Technically, the whole thing is meant to be a longass oneshot, but I figured that with tumblr’s format, it might just be better in shorter breaks. 

I’ll post on ff.net once all the parts are uploaded here. I don’t think it’ll exceed 5? 

things to note, uhhhhh, inspired by the hook from Eminem’s “River ft. Ed Sheeran”. also @fireflyxrebel ‘s blog bc starx <3 <3 <3 And my innate need to start new stories when I haven’t finished any. Post-Tokyo, sans kiss. 

I invite critiques, requests, reblogs, and reviews (i.e. please tell me if it’s garbage :)!!!

without further ado, this is River. 

I’ve been a liar, been a thief

been a lover, been a cheat

all my sins need holy water, feel it washing over me

Little one, I don’t wanna admit to something

If all it’s gonna cause is pain

Truth and my lies, now, are falling like the rain

So let the river run

I did it for the look on his face.

Man, you should’ve seen it. I think he might’ve stopped breathing. It only lasted for a moment, but damn, it was funny. Then he started throwing punches. She was dazed and pink but she managed to wiggle out of the red bands that strapped her to the wall. Her fists were clenched, but she didn’t look angry. Confused, stunned, maybe even a little curious.

The next bit was mostly a blur - I was busy dodging his fury, making little comments that only irked him more. I glanced over at her a few times. She was distracted, not really making a move to catch me. He was too busy dealing with me to notice that the only teammate at his disposal was a bystander.

Bird Boy knew my moves well. He landed a few nasty hooks, his steel shoes connecting with my chest once or twice. We were too evenly matched to make the fight come to a clean end. He anticipated the toys in my belt, from the x-shaped shurikens to the scarlet rubber bindings I enjoyed shooting so often.

I played the weakness. I glanced at her again, more noticeably, and raised my palms, prepared to strike.

It worked - he turned around and shouted her name, snapping her out of her thoughts. I shifted my aim and fired, wrapping him in thick red cords.

“Robin!” She shrieked, transferring something from her fist to her pocket.

“It’s been fun playing, kids,” I said calmly, “but I’ve gotta run.”

She was at his side immediately, peeling away the tightly wound bands.

“Hey, cutie,” I called, grinning at the sight of her crimson cheeks, “think about what I said.”

I gave them a two-fingered salute and tapped my belt, teleporting to the rooftop of the warehouse we were in. Ordinarily I’d try to get as far away from them as possible, but I was low on juice and until I replaced the Xenothium in the suit, I’d be stuck making short jumps - too short to escape their field of view.

“What the hell just happened, Starfire?” Ouch, he sounded pissed. Pissed and loud.

I positioned myself flat against the roof, straining to hear more.

“He escaped,” she said mournfully, “oh, Robin, I am truly sorry, I was...out of my skull?”

“Head,” he corrected, softening slightly, “what did X say to you? Where’s the paper he gave you?”

“He merely made another of the date comments,” her voice was meek and apologetic. I could picture her twisting her fingers nervously or playing with her hair, “and I... the paper was burnt by my starbolts.”

That made me do a double take. She was lying.

“He’s an asshole.”

“Indeed. But there is nothing we can do about him now, yes?”

He sighed tiredly, “yeah, whatever. He didn’t make off with much. I’ll deal with it tomorrow. We should head back, patrol wasn’t supposed to run so late.”

“Robin-”

“Don’t worry, Star. I’m fine, just frustrated. You’re right, there’s nothing that can be done right now.”

She seemed to accept this, not fighting back with any words as they exited the warehouse. I scooched closer to the edge of the roof, careful to keep out of view.

“Ride back with me?” He offered.

“Another time,” she replied, sounding alarmingly close, “I believe I require a midnight flight.”

I turned my head in what I assumed was her direction and - well, shit, there she was, floating with her back to me.

“Suit yourself. Don’t be too long, I’ll lockdown the tower after you’ve come in.”

“Thank you, Robin.” She turned and looked straight at me, lips pressed in a thin line.

I made a move for my belt, stopping when she shook her head. It was such an imperceptible movement, I was certain I had imagined it. But I obeyed anyway, waiting for the sound of the bike revving and speeding off into the night, until we were enveloped in silence once more.

She landed beside me and hoisted me up by the front of my suit, pushing me onto my feet. I stumbled back and shot her a glare.

“Ease up, cutie.”

“You do not get to speak to me in that manner,” she seethed, reaching into her pocket to retrieve a crumpled up piece of paper, “I will give you ten seconds to explain what this is before I throw you into the harbor.”

I shrugged, “it’s exactly what it looks like.”

“I do not understand. Even you are not stupid enough to give me-”

“My phone number? Stupid, no, interested, yes. Don’t try tracing it, you won’t get anywhere.” This wasn’t entirely true, but I was pretty confident she’d believe me.

“What did you hope to accomplish with this?”

“A date,” I said cheekily, “or a chat. I’ll be walking away from here with at least one, that’s for sure.”

She frowned, “I am still confused.”

“Me too, actually, why’d you lie to your boyfriend?”

She blanched, turning away quickly.

“He is not my boyfriend.” She muttered.

“Nuance,” I said smoothly, moving to stand beside her, “you still lied.”

“Would you have preferred I allow him to attack you?”

“Well, no, but I’m surprised you took my feelings into consideration.”

She shook her head, “it is not that. I am trying to understand you, and I do not think involving Robin would be of any help.”

“Oh? What do you wanna know?” I moved closer to her, praying that she wouldn’t crush my bones if we touched.

“Why do you do this, X?” She asked quietly, turning to face me, her fingers still clutching the scrap of paper I’d shoved into her hand twenty minutes earlier.

“I can’t help it if I like you, beautiful.”

She blushed and stepped out of my reach, shaking her head, “I am not referring to the flirting. I am referring to...the facade. The persona. X, you are capable of so much.”

Ohhhhhh, fuck. This was not where I wanted the conversation to go. I figured I’d tease her a little, flirt things up, play the game.

“You think too highly of me,” I said quickly, crossing my arms.

“I do not think that is true,” she replied, “you are strong and clever and you have aided us on several occasions. You could be a great asset to the Titans if you-”

“I’m not interested in being recruited, cutie,” I shot flatly, “I’m a thief. I do what I want, when I want. That’s all there is to me.”

“You are wrong. I know there is more.”

“You don’t know me.”

That shut her up. I felt bad, but not enough to take back what I’d said. I wasn’t wrong. She had no idea what she was talking about.

“Then let me.”

What?

“Excuse me?”

“Let me know you,” she said firmly, leaving no room for argument, “you have been persistent about taking me on an outing. I will go on a date with you, if you allow me the chance to truly know you.”

I shook my head, thankful that the mask hid my eyes which were probably the size of dinner plates.

“No way, cutie, you’re crazy.”

She shrugged, “perhaps I am, but I will not leave you with much of a choice. You will take me out on a pleasant excursion and allow me the opportunity to get to know you better. In return, I will not inform Robin of our conversation tonight, or give him this-” she brandished the slip of paper triumphantly.

“It’s a dead number anyways,” I lied, “go ahead, he’ll probably be more pissed at you anyways.”

Her eyes narrowed, lips curving into a smirk.

“You underestimate Robin. And you underestimate me.”

I had to smile at that, “Cutie, I would never underestimate you.”

“Marvelous. Then I shall contact you via this number to arrange an evening for our date. I would appreciate it if you cooperated, but it is not necessary, because this will happen either way,” she said briskly, rising into the air.

“One question,” I said, definitely not getting caught up in the sight of her long red hair flowing in the cool night air, “why are you doing this?”

She smiled slightly, “I believe in chances and goodness. Consequently, I believe you deserve to have and be both.”

“No, no,” I shook my head, “I meant the date.”

She blushed again, “conceivably...it could be fun.”

With that, she was gone, her exit accented by a bright green streak in the sky.

-

X’hal I must be insane.

Raven certainly thinks so. I told her what I had done - used Red X’s affections for me against him. She feels it is a terrible idea. I do not disagree.

I find him to be intriguing. He has proven himself to be worthy of the Titans time and time again, saving us, assisting us, often choosing to help rather than run. He claims his motives are his own, and perhaps they are, but I truly feel there is more to it.

To be clear, I am still very confused by many of his actions. I do not understand why he has chosen crime, nor do I understand why he flirts with me. I am not even sure the flirting is genuine.

Humans are such complex creatures. They err more often than not. Matters of honor hold great weight with some and no weight at all for others. Actions are coupled with intent to determine consequence.

Humans also veil their emotions. They feign kindness to disguise malice. Conversely, they can act cold to hide affection. I have seen it often with Robin.

Tamaranians are the opposite. We are compelled by our soul and our strength. We pride ourselves on our ability to feel, and express our feelings through touch rather than verbally. I have become quite accustomed to the various displays of physical affection humans utilize. High-fives and the bumping of fists in congratulations. Hugs for comfort, friendly kisses on foreheads and cheeks, sometimes hands as a means of being silly or flirtatious. Mouths with romantic intent. This, I find rather foreign.

Raven suggested, rather hesitantly, that I might have agreed to Red X’s request because I have been feeling lonely and I enjoy his attention. I know she did not mean to insult me, but I felt slightly affronted. Mostly because I could not disagree with this observation either.

I have long given up on Robin. Tokyo put a distance between us, an uncomfortable bubble that neither of us have been able to break. He is still my friend. I still love him. But I am tired of waiting.

Red X has always been amusing to me, though I try to hide it for Robin’s sake. I do not need his flirtations or compliments, but I certainly enjoy hearing them. It fills me with a strange feeling that twists in my stomachs and makes my heart work a little faster.

Thinking about it now, I realize accepting his offer may have been too bold of a move. I do not know where we will meet or what we will do or how we will dress. I have no alibi prepared, though I am sure Raven will allow me to use her as an excuse. I doubt Red X will tell me anything of true value. He may choose to use this date as an excuse to ‘put the moves on’ as Cyborg would say. It could very well be a wasted evening.  

But, if anything, I do think it will be fun.

[end of part 1]

[ask-jungshook]

// HEYO! :D Here’s my version of the Meet the Artist meme that’s been going around! I got several admin asks as well, so might as well knock out two birds with one stone! 

Fun Facts & Q&As under the cut!

Sup! I go by Dissu! It’s my art/gaming nickname that was given to me by friends and pretty much just stuck with me to the extent that I respond to it as much as my real name haha

FUN FACTS! ( ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ

My corgi’s full name is Lucas GNAR (the latter being League of Legends inspired-- his nickname is Lulu tho ;o) I’m a total nerd and gamer if you haven’t guessed by now HAHA

I carry backpacks over small purses because I easily lose/misplace small things. (Bags with shoulder straps always slide off my shoulders too) My other two bags are a winged backpack and a small crossbody.

I carry a pillow in my backpack so I can sleep on the bus on my commute to work (I have no more shame LOL) Lucas ate an eye off it when he was a puppy, so that’s why it has one eye LOL

I doodle on post-its because they’re easier to get rid of/scrap if it comes out looking bad. I don’t have any sketchbooks because for some reason I’m really bad at drawing in books??

I have a slight case of RBF, so I will most likely look :| even though I’m :D on the inside

I dye my hair because my hair is usually extremely oily and dyeing is usually the only way to counteract it. (But mad respect to kpop groups because holy shit bleaching your hair pretty much fries it 2/10 would recommend -- also grey hair is rly hard to maintain zzz) 

My average sleep time on weekdays is 5 hrs, but on weekends it’s 12+ hrs. 

I am a self proclaimed sparkling rock (because I’m really bad at expressing my emotions irl lol)

ASKS! ( ˊᵕˋ )♡.°⑅

BTS: JIMIN by a narrow margin, JK and NAMJOON are tied for a close second (Yoongi is forever my spirit animal though)

For other KPOP groups I follow currently:

Big Bang: TOP

Sechskies: Eun Jiwon

I mainly use SAI! (and PS for animation)

And it’s ironic because I’m like 99% sure I messed up my brush settings yesterday lol but here’s what I have right now. I pretty much use the default brush for all my sketches, lineart and coloring. (The only difference is just brush size) 

I’ve been playing around with my settings more and more just for fun/ trying out new things since I already messed up my settings /weeps (I should have had a screenshot of my original settings in hindsight . . . rip me)

Q__Q omgsjakhgsdlkg thank you guys so much (●♡∀♡) <333 You all give me motivation to keep on drawinggg! <3 (I’m also rly bad at expressing thanks but tytytytyty x100000, it means a lot)

Disclaimer: Just wanna add really quickly, take what I say with a grain of salt bc what worked for me might not work for everyone.

Don’t give up & practice A LOT!

I’ve never had any ‘legit’ art classes in the sense that the only art I got from school was one elective class in high school. The program I was in during HS and the field I’m in now are both devoid of creativity lol (Which is why people at my workplace are usually surprised to see that I draw) That being said, most of my art is mainly trial and error! But it’s a hobby that I enjoy a lot, so I don’t mind the trial and error aspect of it. I also really like the fact that you can like graduallllly see improvement the more you draw! :D Only recently, I’ve been actively trying to get better and improve since I have more time to do things now. (Legit school was probably the main reason why I couldn’t draw a lot -- exams man)

To elaborate a bit, overall I think I’m an average artist at best because there’s simply so much that I still need to learn. I feel like for me, I never fully grasped the foundation for drawing (mainly anatomy), so I’m trying to relearn that now that I have free time. (I think previously, all I drew was still-life, so I . .  . can draw fruit???? LOL) Like if you look at most of my older pieces, you can see that I have no clue how to draw clothing, body structure, or color theory. (The good thing is, that I know my weaknesses, so it’s a good starting block! haha)

But for art in general, it’s all about your foundation and how you build on it. If you don’t know how to break the body down by body parts, then there’s no way that you can free draw a person that looks perfect. So at this point, for me, it’s just a quest for learning & self improvement! :D

Another important thing is to step outside of your comfort zone! I strongly believe that you learn from failure especially for art. Like I think this year was the first time I drew a full body picture because I forced myself to step away from just drawing faces only. (LOL LEGIT I’VE ONLY DRAWN HEADSHOTS OF PEOPLE FACING LEFT FOR LIKE 99.9% OF THE TIME) While it wasn’t perfect, I definitely learned from it.

I also highly suggest iterative drawing! Which is basically drawing the same thing over and over, but changing small things with every repetition. That way, you can compare and see what worked and what didn’t and carry that forward!

Also, don’t expect like change overnight! That’s one of the things I think people have a misconceptions of-- especially something that new artists can get a bit down on, because they don’t ‘see’ improvement. But JUST KEEP ON DRAWING! Because improvement will always be gradual. (It’s very similar to working out -- like you’ll gain muscle tone over time & not overnight)

Like this is probably one of the first CG pieces I drew like YEARRRRS back (maybe 2009????) when I first tried digital art vs a WIP of what I’m currently working on right now (yes, dat’s a jimin) :

So clearly, getting from point A to point B for me happened over a lot of years and not right away, but just know that it IS possible if you’re willing to be patient -- and that improvement is there even if you don’t see it! 

Also I just wanna throw out there that improvement isn’t always going to be a upwards curve, it might stagnate/plateau occasionally and that’s OK! I think when I was still in school, I took A LOT of art hiatuses that spanned months so when I would get back into drawing, my art probably looked worse LOL 

But for me personally, what it comes down to in the end, is that:

1) You’re making art because YOU enjoy it. If you go into drawing with the intention of getting famous or having a lot of notes, then there really isn’t that much personal sense of joy if you’re basing your accomplishments by how many notes you receive. Draw for the sake of yourself instead of for the sake of others -- it’s a lot more liberating.

2) You’re basing your improvement against yourself, not against other people. Everyone is different and everyone learns things at different rates, so don’t feel discouraged if someone else is improving at a different rate than you are. I know a lot of people get discouraged when they see how fast others may be improvement-- I mean there was a point where I was like that, but ultimately, improvement will always be a battle against yourself only. (This applies to like self improvement lol not just art improvement)

3) Have a positive outlook & be patient. Basically going back to point 1, art should be something that you enjoy doing/something that makes you happy! Personally for me, I don’t see a point of calling something a hobby if you find no joy in doing it. I feel like in the past my main struggles were that I was unhappy about my art because I kept on comparing it to like REALLY good people HAHAHA & because I had like no improvement in the beginning, but then I realized that there’s not point of being sad over something I can’t control. Because all artists have their own story and all artists have to start out somewhere. (tbh sometimes, all you have to do is just change your mindset a bit) 

TLDR; Lots of practice, seek improvement, try new things, have a positive outlook (BE HAPPY!!!) & don’t give up! (๑•̀ㅂ•́)و HWAITING!

 >___> I just realized that I wrote a lot in no particular order, so I’m sorry that it turned into one very messy essay LOL but hopefully that was kinda helpful? igotlazierastimewentonthololsosorryifthelastsectionmadenosense 

BUT I THINK I’M FINALLY DONE LMFAO! (Also bless, this cleared out several asks from my inbox) :D If anyone’s curious about anything else, feel free to message me (or ask me stuff once my askbox re-opens) -- I’m always free to chat! ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ