#when i turned in my last draft i noted in my reflection that i probably wouldn't be finishing it

[greentypewriters]

i wonder if i will ever be able to write anything i think is good

[fiveht]

Proof of life (Adore pt 3)

Hello my sweet angel babies ♥️

I'm not going to be able to adequately express my gratitude for the steady stream of love (and concern, sorry) I've been receiving over the past couple of months. I'm so sorry I've been AWOL, it will definitely happen again. Because see, for me, I usually have to make a choice between social and creative fandom participation. My battery is small, and takes a long time to charge.

Thank you to everyone who's left comments and asks and DMs since I've been gone. I don't think I can respond to all of it, but rest assured those messages ping my cold, dead heart every time I see them.

So I'm gonna go out on a limb here. I did this same thing months and months ago, when I was working on Head Over Feet, and let me be clear: posting even a single word of a WIP goes against my every instinct and principle as an author. I am someone who likes to finish an entire story before I post any of it, and on top of that, I am NOT a fast writer, so the expectations that I'm setting up here might not be advisable. But I did it before and managed to finish the thing, and I want to give you guys something in exchange for being so unbelievably awesome, so here I am again.

This will probably be the only time I mention this story in public until it's finished and posted, and inquiries about my progress are unlikely to help with the writing process, I'm just saying. I reserve the right to change every last word of this before the final draft, and I also reserve the right to fall off the face of the planet and simply never finish it, as much as I will strive to prevent that from happening. Please be patient with me.

Anyway, here is my paltry offering to say thanks for the love: the (VERY rough) first ~1300 words of the third instalment of The Adventures of Soft Daddy and Danger Twink.

Sirius secures his handheld shower head to its holder at the edge of his clawfoot tub, and steps out carefully onto the bathmat. He shivers in the cool air outside the shower curtain; it's about twenty degrees below zero outside, so even if he could afford to run his ancient radiator at full blast, it probably wouldn't help much.

He dries himself off and checks his reflection in the mirror, turning his face this way and that as he tugs his hair out of the bun he'd piled it into to keep it dry during his shower. There's no need for makeup tonight, not when he's not even planning to put on clothes.

It's incrementally warmer when he steps out into the main room of his apartment. He gathers an array of splayed text books and notes from his bed and dumps them carelessly onto the couch, then closes his new laptop and places it delicately on the coffee table. It's the most expensive thing he owns, save for the Gucci backpack currently sitting in his wardrobe with a three-inch berth around it like his shoes and other bags might somehow contaminate it. It's weird owning rich-people stuff when you are still, objectively, broke as fuck.

He perches on the edge of his bed and sets his phone to charge, because his battery doesn't even last a day anymore, and he's going to need it this evening. He tucks it in next to his pillow and picks up his new toy.

The plug isn't much larger than the one he already has. A little longer, which is appealing, but no wider, so it shouldn't be a challenge to get it in comfortably. He disconnects it from its charger and hefts it in his hand, feeling the added weight from the electronics inside.

He picks up his phone, and hesitates when he sees the notification waiting for him.

Rieka: let's go out tomorrow

Rieka: the fact that we haven't been drunk since the term started is criminal

Rieka: we've had two chem labs and zero drinks

Sirius purses his lips, thumbs hovering over the keyboard. There's a fine line here, and he hasn't quite found it yet.

Me: got plans

Me: raincheck?

So complete avoidance is the best strategy, right?

Rieka: booooo 👎

He sighs, but at least she's not asking for an explanation. He opens a different conversation then, pushing all thoughts of Rieka Lupin into a tidy, sealed compartment, not to be opened during certain activities with a certain relative of hers.

Me: i'm ready

Me: are you in your office?

Daddy: Yup, I've got a few minutes

Daddy: Want me to call?

Instead of answering, Sirius hits the call button himself.

"Hey baby," Remus answers. His voice is already smooth and honey-sweet, and just from that, Sirius knows he's planning to lay it on thick tonight.

"Hi daddy," Sirius says with a smile. "Should I put it in now?"

There's a low chuckle over the line. "Are we feeling eager?"

"Always," Sirius says, laying back on his bed.

"Use the good lube I got you, it's gonna be in there a while."

He switches the call to speaker, and snags the bottle from his nightstand. "I threw out the old stuff, you've got me ruined for cheap lube."

"Only the best for that ass," Remus says, and Sirius can hear his smirk.

He gives the plug a liberal coating, running his fingers along its shape, his dick twitching just at the feel of the silky-smooth silicone, at the anticipation of what's about to happen. He spreads his legs wide, drawing one knee up to give himself easier access.

"Take it slow," Remus says, succinctly heading off Sirius' impulse to just shove the thing inside himself in one go. "Rub the tip against yourself, so you're nice and wet."

Sirius shuts his eyes as he obeys, sliding the slick end of the toy over his entrance. "Okay."

"Are you going to be a good boy for daddy tonight?"

"Uh-huh," Sirius says, teasing the very tip of the plug in and out of his hole.

"Tell me how."

"I'm not gonna touch."

"You're not gonna touch, and you're not gonna come."

"Yeah," Sirius says. His cock is starting to harden as his body tries to draw the plug inside. "Can I put it in, daddy?"

"Slow," Remus reminds him, "Slide it in nice and slow for me, baby."

Sirius catches his lip between his teeth and tries to push the plug in slowly, the way he knows Remus would do if he was here. 

The shower has left him relaxed and more than ready, and it's hard not to take advantage, just press the toy in to its limit because he can. But he's working on his patience -- under Remus' careful tutelage -- so he shuts his eyes and tries to savour it, the tease of the plug's rubber tip at his entrance, the slow stretch as he eases it past the slight resistance before he sighs, and his body eagerly accepts the intrusion.

"Mmmm," Sirius sighs as he settles the base of the plug flush against his entrance, shifting his hips and feeling the constant, dull pressure against his prostate.

"How's it feel?" 

"Good," Sirius says, splaying his legs out and just enjoying the pleasant fullness. It's been almost a week since Remus last fucked him, and that's just way too long. Christmas really spoiled him. He tugs the blankets up around him, because it's going to take some time before his body temperature is high enough to fight against the chill in his apartment.

"Have you tried out the settings at all?" Remus asks him, and Sirius picks up the phone, switching off speaker and holding it to his ear.

"No," he says, grinding his ass down against the bed to test the plug's reach inside him. "I thought you'd rather do the honours."

Remus hums, and Sirius hears the phone shifting in his grip. "I'm gonna turn it on, okay? Lowest setting."

"O--" Sirius stutters as the plug buzzes to life inside him, nestled snug against his prostate and sending little zings of pleasure down his legs. "Fuck that feels good. That's the lowest setting?"

"It is," Remus confirms. "Want to run through them all, see how high it goes? Or would you rather be surprised?"

"Mmmm, surprise me."

"Surprise it is," Remus says, and Sirius hears shuffling papers in the background as he prepares for his night class. Psychology 1001, Thursdays, 7-9:30PM. Two and a half hours of a lecture that Remus swears he's given so many times he could recite it in his sleep, so why not give himself something fun to focus on while he goes through the motions? 

Being privy to all of this brilliant, upstanding man's secret perversions is a privilege Sirius does not take lightly.

"You can turn it off from the app if you need to," Remus is saying, "Or you can call me and I'll switch it off. My phone's on vibrate, so I'll see it right away."

Sirius smiles to himself. "Got it," he says, though this is a rehashing of the rules that Remus had laid out when he'd brought the plug over last weekend. He'd called it a "late Christmas gift", as if he hadn't already given Sirius several thousand dollars worth of presents on Christmas morning.

There's more rustling over the line, the squeak of a chair. 

"Tell me again how you're going to be good tonight."

"I'm not gonna touch myself, and I'm not gonna come." The toy is still buzzing away inside him, making everything a little fuzzy at the edges. 

"Tell me why."

"'Cause daddy's in charge, even when he's not here."

"Good boy."

Sirius squirms with pleasure, his cock smearing a little drop of fluid on his belly as the toy hums insistently at his prostate.

"I have to head out," Remus says. "How do you feel?"

"Good," Sirius says, his abs tensing as he shifts his legs and the angle of the toy changes. "Excited."

"Me too," Remus says softly. "I'll talk to you soon, beautiful. Send me some pictures." With a low beep, the call disconnects.

[fetusgooseandjuice]

Approval

Pairing(s): Kate Bishop x Fem!Reader

Summary: When the time comes for Kate to finally meet your dad, she is a nervous wreck.

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: None? Just a whole lot of fluff! Not proofread.

Authors Note: The beginning of this had been sitting in my drafts collecting dust so I finally decided to make something out of it. I don’t think it’s my best work but I hope you guys like it!

After finishing the last few touch ups to your makeup you made your way out of the bathroom, happy and content with how your outfit looked.

The scent of your body wash still lingered on your skin as you were freshly showered, your hair was styled to perfection, and you were clad in one of your favorite dresses that you know your girlfriend loves just as much.

Tonight was a very special night for you and Kate. The two of you were attending an event, but not just any event.

Kate would finally be meeting your dad for the first time.

She’s met your mom and brother as well as a few cousins on occasion since the two of you have been dating for almost half a year. However, she’s never had the chance to be introduced to your dad.

Between Kate’s avenger duties and your dad’s job, schedules haven’t always lined up.

Your dad had always been a very busy person since you were young with him being the CEO of a well-known company. Him having to leave for a week or two sometimes for business trips wasn’t unusual as his job keeps him on his toes.

So unfortunately he’s not always home, but when given the opportunity to take time off to be with his family, he does.

Like tonight.

Your family was having their annual holiday party and your dad was coming home to attend, so it’s safe to say Kate would be taking this very seriously.

Hence, why when you walked out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, you were met with a very frustrated looking Kate standing in front of the mirror hanging on the closet door.

She had a frown on her face as she held a tie in each hand, alternating holding one tie up to her collar, then the other.

You watched her from the doorway for a few moments. During that time, she switched back and forth between ties probably about eight times before you noticed her growing more upset, so you decided to step in.

Walking behind her, you placed your hands on her shoulders and gave them a comforting squeeze. She didn’t seem phased by your presence, seemingly still stuck in her head with her current predicament.

“What’s got you looking so upset, hm?” you asked as you gazed at her face through the reflection in the mirror. “You’ve been standing here with a frown on your face since I came out of the bathroom, and who knows how long you’ve been here before that.”

Kate let out a big sigh and met your eyes in the mirror as she gestured to one of the ties, “This one seems like it would be too much,” she held up the other option, “And this one is just plain and simple, but it might be the safer option.”

She stared into the mirror once more, “I don’t want it to seem like I’m trying too hard, but I also don’t want to seem boring.” she said.

Your expression softened as you turned your head to look at her side profile, “Which one do you like with this suit more?”

Kate tilted her head as she contemplated one last time before holding up her final choice, “This one.”

Taking the chosen piece of fabric from her hand, you spun her around to face you and draped the tie around her neck as you began to tie it.

“You don’t think I should go with the other one? What if I just go without it? Or would that make me look too informal?” she rambled, hesitancy evident in her voice.

You looked up to meet her eyes with a comforting smile, “I think you should wear whatever you want to wear.” you said, focusing back on the task at hand. “I also don’t think he’s going to judge you based off of the pattern on your tie, or if you choose not to wear one at all.”

Kate looked at you with masked surprise, but you’ve been with her long enough to be able to see right through her and read her like a book.

“I know you’ve been acting as if meeting him isn’t making you anxious, but I know you.” you said. “If I didn’t know before, I definitely know now since I just witnessed you almost pop a forehead vein over a tie.” you giggled and you heard your girlfriend chuckle too.

“You can relax, Kate, you’re gonna be okay. He’s not a monster.”

Your girlfriend sighed and lightly laughed, “It’s just—”, she started but stopped herself. You gave her a moment to collect her thoughts.

“Getting his approval is really important to me because he’s your dad, you know? He’s really important to you.” she explained and you nodded, letting her know that you were listening.

“So I wanna show him that I’m fit to be dating his daughter and if my outfit will help me make a good first impression, I want to wear a nice one.”

Your heart nearly bursted at her confession and your eyes lifted to meet hers in a loving gaze.

“Oh, Katie,” The pure sincerity on her face was overwhelming enough to make you fall for the tall brunette standing in front of you all over again.

“I love you, so he automatically has no choice but to like you because we both know you don’t plan on going anywhere anytime soon.”

You tightened the accessory around her neck and smoothed down her suit jacket. Your hand came up to caress the side of her face with your thumb, “I’ll be there the whole time. It’ll be okay.”

Kate reached to hold your hand on her cheek in hers and turned to kiss your palm. “Why do you always make everything so much easier?”

“It’s what I do.” you giggled, and she smiled before leaning in to press her lips to yours in a tender kiss.

Neither of you wanted to pull away until you had to, so you finally separated once air became a necessity instead of a suggestion.

Kate rested her forehead against yours and gazed into your eyes, “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You smiled softly in return, “Ready to go now?”

She took a deep breath before nodding her head confidently, “Let’s go,”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

When you arrived the party was in full swing. It was loud with chattering people and an occasional laugh while they sipped on drinks.

You’d already run into your brother and a few other family members who stopped to give you a hug and say hi, greeting Kate in the process too.

It wasn’t very long before you saw your mom making her way over to you with a contagious smile plastered on her face that you easily returned.

“Y/n, you finally made it!” once she was within arms reach she pulled you into a tight hug. “You look so beautiful, honey.” she said as she kissed the crown of your head.

Hugging her back, you giggled, “Thanks, mom. You look amazing too, and the place looks great.”

“Well thank you, darling. And I see you brought Kate!”

She pulled back to address your girlfriend who held out her hand with a kind smile at the mention of her name.

“It’s good to see you again, Mrs. Y/l/n.” Kate said.

Your mom glanced down at her outstretched hand and playfully rolled her eyes, “Oh please, Kate, none of that formal stuff you know that come here.”

Kate was pulled into the same tight embrace you’d been pulled into just moments prior, and she happily reciprocated.

You smiled as you watched two of the most important people in your life easily fall into conversation.

But as you scanned the vicinity of the venue you realized there was one person you had yet to see since you got here.

“Hey, mom? Is dad here?” you wondered.

Hearing the question she went to look around for him as well, but there was no need to when you saw the man in question appear behind your mom with a glass in hand.

“Did someone ask for me?” he said with a grin on his face.

Kate broke into a small smile seeing your face light up. The view calming the nerves she was suddenly feeling just a little bit.

“Dad, hey!” you greeted cheerfully.

He held his arms open in invitation and you gladly moved into them to give him a hug. “Hey, sweetheart. How have you been?”

You stepped back to return to your girlfriend’s side. You’d noticed how nervous she became at the presence of your father.

“I’ve missed you, but I’ve been okay and I have someone I’d like you to meet.” you answered and watched his eyes flicker over to the girl beside you. “Dad, this is my girlfriend Kate, and Kate, this is my dad.”

“It’s so nice to finally meet you, Mr. Y/l/n. Y/n’s told me so much about you it feels like I already know you.” Kate chuckled and held out her hand for him to shake, but she almost took it back now noticing how clammy it was.

She didn’t want your dad to have to shake her sweaty hand.

You watched as his lips pulled into a tight smile, “Likewise”, he glanced down at her hand, but never made a move to take it. “I’ve heard a lot about you too. ” he said.

Kate was clearly very nervous at this point, judging by the way she dropped her hand and you watched her shakily wipe them on her pants. But she kept a smile on face and tried to keep the conversation flowing.

“I-I hope she’s told you all good things?”

Your dad gave a nod of his head as he eyed her down, “The best.”

Silence fell and as you looked between the two it was almost painful how awkward the atmosphere seemed to be now.

Your dad reached out to brush off the shoulder of her jacket, and deciding to help girlfriend you took her hand and squeezed it, “How about we all—”

“Let me talk to you for a second, Kate.” your dad interrupted you to speak to her.

“Dad—”

“It’s okay, Y/n.” Kate looked at you with a reassuring eyes.

You searched them for hesitancy, but she was determined to get him to like her. Yes, your dad did look a little intimidating, but she wasn’t going to be scared away so easily. You nodded and let go of her hand to watch her follow your dad out of sight.

“I’m sure he just wants to get to know her. You know how parents are, honey.” your mom reassured and you nodded.

She was probably right.

Kate followed your dad through the crowd and shoved her hands in her pockets when she was led outside onto the balcony, sheltering them from the chilly air.

“Listen, Mr. Y/l/n, I know it’s late that I’m just now meeting you after being with Y/n for half a year, but I can assure you I would never hurt her. She means too much to me for me to do that.”

Your dad just blinked at her for a moment before speaking, “Kate, do you know that Y/n’s my only daughter?”

The archer nodded her head and he took that as the go-ahead to continue.

“Her entire life her protection has been mine and my wife’s responsibility, and our responsibility only.

Kate didn’t exactly know where this was going, so she just opted to listen.

“And for the first time in her life we have to hand that responsibility over to someone else.” he said before taking a couple steps closer to the tall brunette.

“I know what kind of work you do and I know what all can happen, so I need to know that I’m able trust you, Kate.”

She should’ve known that this would come up. Her job isn’t usual by any means and she knows there are risks. Of course your dad would be skeptical about you dating someone like her.

“I understand your concerns, Mr. Y/l/n. I can promise you that what happens out in the field stays there, we take precautions to make that happen. And you should know that I’d never let anything happen to your daughter. I just want to make her happy because she makes me so happy that it’s the least I could do for her. I love Y/n, so I promise I’ll do everything I can to keep her safe.”

This was the first time she had seen your dad look at her with any expression that wasn’t a glare since meeting him, and it lifted all the weights off of her shoulders.

He held out his hand with a soft smile, “Welcome to the family, Kate. I look forward to seeing you more often. Love the tie by the way.”

You were standing at the bar, waiting on a drink when Kate finally spotted you again. She made her way over to you and placed her hand on the small of your back gently to not startle you.

Recognizing the touch instantly you turned to face her, “Hey, I got you your favorite.” you said just as the bartender placed the drinks down in front of you.

“Oh thank you, my love.” she looked at you gratefully and took a sip of her drink. It was much needed after the stress of tonight.

“How did it go? Is everything okay? He didn’t threaten you did he?”

Kate chuckled at the ramble of questions before shaking her head, “No, he didn’t threaten me. And it went amazing. Everything is perfectly fine.”

Her words made you smile happily and you leaned in to give her a quick loving kiss, pulling away with a giggle and teasing look when she went to lean in for another.

“Told you it would be.”

~ end ~

[uhdrienne]

𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

03. broadcast?

🌼 warnings: awkward situations!

🌼 word count: 2,297 words

"So you're moving in?" Wonwoo asks as you finish up your fifth phone call of the day.

"Guess so," you shrug as you tuck your phone back into your pocket. "I got a moving company to help me with my stuff. Not everything, since I'll be going back in a few months."

He nods thoughtfully. "And you'll need a place to stay, I'm guessing."

You look at him. "I'm not staying with you. Don't try that."

"Calm down, Miss Doctor. I'm not ever offering my place up. You'll need to pay rent for that anyway. I can arrange a meeting with a landlord for you if you need it."

"How do I know I can trust you?" You narrow your eyes.

"I know everyone in this town." Wonwoo replies without missing a beat, in the tone that grates on your nerves. "What's it going to be? I'm a busy man."

Miss Kim is nice. Probably the nicest person in the town ever.

She drafts up a contract swiftly right in the local bookshop after your discussion about your housing arrangement with the help of Wonwoo, who serves as your middleman. She also starts talking about a small clinic space for you.

"So just pay the stipulated monthly rent in the duration of the last week of every month and you're good." Miss Kim summarises after you've both signed the handwritten contract.

"Alright," you say.

Miss Kim smiles. "It's been a while since we've had any newcomers in the town. You're going to have a good time."

"I doubt that," you reply quietly, but Miss Kim waves you off.

"Wonwoo," she turns to the man sitting next to you. "I'll leave the renovating to you and the boys? Not sure about the plumbing situation, but-"

You raise your eyebrows in surprise.

"No worries," Wonwoo reassures the middle-aged woman, a warm smile on his face. "Shua and Kwan are pretty free around this time. We'll handle it. And it's for a clinic, that's important. We'll sort that out too."

"Oh, you angel," the woman sighs happily. "Well, that's one load off. Y/N, dear, I'll see you soon when you move in. No need to worry about anything. Wonwoo, Joshua, and Seungkwan will handle it for you. Goodness, I've never seen boys who work better with wrenches than they do!"

She gets to her feet, and by default both you and Wonwoo stand up too. "I have to head off," she adds ruefully. "My- Mr Woo, I mean, needs someone to collect the trash bags again."

You bow as she leaves, and spin towards Wonwoo. "You do renovation?"

"Reno, plumbing, painting, wallpaper installation, carpenting, whatever makes up a house." He smirks. "Do you need my services, Miss Doctor?"

"I'm not trusting you with my house."

He rolls his eyes and groans. "Not this again."

"It's serious!" You retort. "I want to stay in a nice place for the 3 months I'm here-"

The flap of a booklet cuts you off.

Wonwoo has opened a whole damn book of certifications. Encased in transparent pockets, they tumble down, showcasing their sheer number in all its glory. And they reflect exactly what he says, you note as you scan down the list. He has government-issued licenses for renovation, as an estate agent, plumbing, wallpaper, carpenting, and no way... he's a licensed barista? A certified mechanic??

"Not so anxious anymore?" Wonwoo chuckles as he looks at your dumbfounded expression. "You-"

"Come on," he says, slinging his backpack across his shoulder. "You should go home, it's getting late. Come back soon so you can take a look at the house and the clinic plot."

He fishes out his phone. "What's your number?" After you give it to him reluctantly, he lifts a hand in goodbye as he strides out of the shop, leaving you.

"You're moving?!"

"Why ae you so surprised?"

"You're a city girl through and through, YN LN," your friend announces. "You whine when you have to take the stairs instead of a lift in the mall. There is no way you're upping and leaving to a place where they don't even take cards."

"I asked this guy to get them fixed," you shrug. "And it's just for three months, I'm not staying forever."

"I know you just have to do something rash when you see kids in need, YN," your friend sighs. "The time when you decided to donate half your first paycheck to feed underprivileged kids? Or the time when you organised a sale in twelve hours during college to fund medicine supply for-"

"Okay, shut up!" You turn to your friend, flustered, who's laughing unabashedly now. "The kids in that town don't have a clinic. The adults and grandparents don't either. And t's a private establishment, so I'll earn a lot of money while I'm there. There's a Louis Vuitton bag I've been eyeing."

Your friend laughs again, eyes sparkling with mirth. "Sure. Whatever you say."

"Hi. I'm Joshua, everyone calls me Shua. And that's Seungkwan over there."

The two good natured men smile at you and you bow back stiffly. Beside them, Wonwoo is pacing the area that is soon to be your house, tape measure in hand.

"Hello."

"So, our newest addition!" Seungkwan smiles. "We're trying to plan your interior deco, what are you thinking of?"

"Fabric wallpaper," you reply immediately. "In taupe or grey. I'm thinking beige furniture, gives it a minimalist vibe?"

Seungkwan opens his mouth, presumably to suggest something else, but Joshua cuts in smoothly, smiling at you. "No problem. It's great that you know what you want."

At last, finally someone who gets you. "Thanks," you say stiffly, letting out a tight smile.

Wonwoo seems to be done with the measurements, as he keeps his tape measure. "Shua, Kwan, I'll take Miss Doctor to see the clinic plot. Be back soon."

"Okay!"

Wonwoo beckons to you. "Come on then."

A swift ten minutes later, you're standing in the middle of the clinic space.

"This could be the observation room," you mutter to yourself. "Or the office."

You deem the place good enough to move into. Plenty of natural light, a spacious front room, and a few more rooms at the back for observation rooms and your own office.

"Send me what you want for the wallpaper and all that," Wonwoo says, as you both leave the place and he gets ready to head back to your future house. "And it's minimum wage per hour for all three of us. We take bank transfers."

"What?"

Wonwoo smirks. "This isn't the city, but we don't work for free. I'll send you the details, you can just pay us when we're finished."

You gape at him. "I- of course I'm going to pay you! Who do you think I am, a leech?"

He shrugs. "Whatever you say. Anyway, I'll contact you when we're done, but the office might take a while more. Bye."

Dear Miss YN LN,

Thank you for your letter regarding your placement at the pediatrics unit here at Seoul University Hospital. Unfortunately, we cannot make the necessary re-arrangements as the other doctor mentioned has already started his five-year term with us. As we are in the process of preparing for the start of your contract, you were given the three months delay before you begin work.

Do advise us on what we can do to improve the situation as we hope to provide you with a positive working experience. We look forward to your reply.

Warmest Regards

Seoul University Hospital

Three Weeks Later

"Looks okay."

"Just 'okay'?" Wonwoo scoffs. "Shua spent all weekend putting up that fancy wallpaper you wanted."

"I thought you could deliver whatever your clients wanted," You hiss. Delia's eyes flick between both of you, seemingly in amusement.

"Thanks, Chief Jeon. YN's a little picky, but the place looks great!" She interrupts, and you shoot her a glare.

"No worries, Miss..?" Wonwoo smiles at her.

"Just call me Delia! YN, you stay here. I'm going to check the town out, yeah?" And before you can respond, she's out of the newly renovated house.

"She knows you," Wonwoo points out, reaching down to pick his haversack up. "You're prickly and bad-tempered, and-"

"Don't finish that."

He chuckles, fixing his belt. "Anyway, Seungkwan wanted me to pass you a message. The villagers heard we have a doctor staying here for a while, so they want to invite you to a village dinner tonight. Come if you're free, and take the chance to know them better, would you?"

"I'm not interested."

"Oh, come on! You can promote your clinic at the same time, no? Those things are usually pretty fun."

You perk up slightly and he notices. He lets out a laugh. "See you there. Bring your friend if you want to so you're not alone."

Unfortunately, Delia isn't free, what with her taking the night shift at her nursing job in a Seoul hospital. She leaves with the promise to call you when she's free to chat, and you head to the location on your own.

You bow stiffly to the three grandmas who taught you how to handle squid as they pass you, and they chuckle and pat your hand. Cringing at the feeling of old, wrinkled hands on you but saying nothing, you head towards a familiar face.

"Oh YN! Didn't think I'd see you here!" Joshua remarks cheerfully, holding tongs and standing over a portable grill sizzling with seafood. "Here, I'll grab you a plate. These prawns came in fresh, so you get first dibs off the grill!"

"YN! Over here!" Seungkwan's voice catches your attention, and you turn to see him waving you in the direction of his table. Next to him, playing with a young girl, is the chief you least want to see.

Joshua lets out a hearty laugh as he passes you a plate, laden with seafood and meat and rice. "Eat up. Stay with Seungkwan if you're a little awkward, he'll keep the conversation flowing."

You thank him a little quietly before making your way to the table. As you settle, a middle-aged man reaches to shake your hand.

"Mr Woo," He says, a little gruffly but still pleasantly. "I work in the village bank."

"Bank...?" You ask. "I didn't see one when I-" You stop yourself before the embarrassing story of you trying to retrieve your pride pours out.

"Oh! It's a small one, near the convenience store. It's quite secluded so you probably didn't catch it." Mr Woo doesn't seem fazed as he explains. Seungkwan throws his head back and laughs, "I had a hell of a time trying to find it when it was first built!"

The conversation starts and you try to listen, but it's just not the same. You're only used to chats about tough medical cases and patients, never about the day's currents, the catches from the sea, and the trash collection on Saturday mornings. You only pretend to be distracted when you see the chatterbox Miss Hwang arrive. You don't really want another debate with her.

Luckily, Delia's call when the clock approaches 9 gives you a mild reprieve. You excuse yourself and close the door to the small room at the back. It looks like the broadcast room, with a small mic there. You swipe accept on Delia's call.

"Hey, girl!" her voice rings across the line. "How's the dinner?"

"Awful," You sigh as you ean against the mic shelf. "I haven't mentioned my clinic once, and all they talk about is the day's fish!"

"Don't be such a grump," Delia teases. "That's a nice topic, you know. Life there seems so idyllic, I'd so take that over this any day."

"No you don't," You reply tiredly. "They're all so simple -- too simple it's aggravating. The chatterbox lady insisted on playing the strangest music earlier, and I wish I hadn't said I was staying here, now I have to put up and pretend I'm interested in their way of life!"

"You might like it there. The people seem pretty nice," Delia persists. Fortunately, her nagging is cut short by a call of her name, presumably from another nurse. "Shoot. I gotta go."

"Go on," you mutter. "I'll find an excuse to leave soon or something."

With a goodbye the call ends, and you mentally prep yourself to head out again.

But when you leave, you don't hear the excited hum of chatter among the villagers. Not the weird trot music Miss Hwang insisted on playing. Save for the sizzle of the grill, the whole space is silent. Every single villager's eyes follow you. Even Miss Hwang has fallen silent for once, pupils dilated in seemingly shock.

You swallow. "What?"

You turn in Seungkwan's direction. Joshua's. And Wonwoo's. The other two men aren't meeting your gaze at all, but Wonwoo is looking up and directly at you. His eyes don't have the same spark they did when you saw him earlier. They've hardened in anger and disappointment, and his jaw has tightened considerably. Joshua's deliberately looking everywhere else except for in your direction, and Mr Woo's pretending to pick at nonexistent fuzz on his clothes. Seungkwan can't even meet your eye.

You're stuck in momentary confusion until it hits you in a wave of shock and panic. The mic. The mic in the room must have been turned on the whole damn time. Your words had been broadcasted for everyone there to hear.

Your face and ears burn red, and you stride over to the table, as quickly as your shaky legs can handle, grab your bag and leave. No one follows you or tries to stop you to explain yourself.

You've stunned the whole town into silence.

𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

🌼 summary: going back to the countryside where you grew up was at the bottom of your list. unexpectedly, your life changes course, and you eventually find your home in weekly village cleaning, the sound of the waves, and with the local jack-of-all-trades, jeon wonwoo.

🌼pairing: wonwoo x reader (written and smau), fluff, angst, hometown chachacha!inspired

🌼 genre(s): fluff, mild angst, yn can be mean sometimes at the start (this is inspired by the kdrama hometown cha-cha-cha, so some parts of the plot and characters are similar), wonwoo is an overall sweetheart

ch.03: broadcast?

prev. masterlist. next.

🌼 taglist: @gaslysainz @lev1hei1chou

writer's note: oh noooooo

[allbark-no-bite]

Expecting the Unexpected || Elvis Presley x reader

summary: an unplanned pregnancy and a draft notice lead to turmoil in the Presley home

word count: 2.5k

warnings: pregnancy, swearing, vomiting

author’s note: finally!! i’ve been sitting on this one for a few weeks, and I really am pleased with how it turned out! im open to requests but can’t promise i’ll get around to them :)

The three pink sticks lie imposingly on the bathroom counter top, as thought I am not already very aware of their existence. My racing heart, which has been elevated since I purchased the tests at the corner store this morning, picks up again when I hear the front door shut. I return my attention to untangling a strand of my hair as Elvis' footsteps echo from downstairs and become louder when he approaches the bedroom.

From the open door, I see him toss his heavy coat onto the bed, and he reaches up to ruffle his hair, which is still disheveled from the wind. He lets out an exasperated sigh. Shuffling slowly, he makes his way round into the bathroom

His usually vibrant blue eyes are sullen as he takes in the scene painted before him. Me crouched against the wall, three pink sticks on the counter, boxes shoved in the trash can. "Waiting?" he finally asks, his voice tense, cautious, and strangely monotone all in the same breath.

"Yeah," I breathe out, slightly surprised that the words make it out of my mouth. My body has not felt like my own since I missed my cycle. I don't trust it anymore, not even to speak.

Elvis just nods quietly, hands shoved in his pockets.

From the floor, I pick at my fingernails, feeling numb. I'd already cried enough today, the image of the perfect life we lived thrown to the wind. There would be no more late night rendezvous spent in expensive dresses and diamonds, drinking champagne, no more red eye flights across the country at the drop of a hat. The rock 'n' roll lifestyle—gone in an instant.

My eyes burn, and I just want to sleep away the misery, pretend that it's not there. "You can probably look at the first one."

Elvis leans over the counter, tilting the stick towards him. There's no hesitation, and I watch as he releases the breath he was holding, the burden he had been preparing to shoulder slipping from his shoulders.

"It's negative. There's only one line."

I jump up from the floor, almost not believing him, but sure enough, when I look, there's only one faint pink line on the test. "Oh, thank God."

Elvis immediately hugs me into his side, the test still clenched in my hand, and I can feel the tension leaking out of both of us. With the moment of peril now behind us, I see our lives returning back to normal once again. The future we had once imagined comes back into view.

However, the relief lasts for only a short lived second. He turns back towards the counter, and I feel Elvis' arm slide from around me. "Baby... this one's got two."

I turn to the counter top as well to peer at the second test in his hand. Two bold pink lines stare back at us. Without a word spoken between us, he snatches the third test, the other clattering into the sink as he drops it. It's hardly been enough time for the last one to develop, but there are already two obvious lines.

My stomach drops. Hands shaking, I pick up the one Elvis had discarded in his previous haste and hold them side by side. Two positive tests. All I can do is stand there, staring at the lines.

This cannot be happening.

Out of the corner of my eye, I am dimly aware of Elvis beside me. His figure hovers in the mirror's reflection, unmoving for a while, his perfect face ashen. He drags his hands through his jet black hair, swearing. "Fuck."

This cannot be happening.

Elvis moves behind me, doubling over the toilet and vomiting. Pensively, I watch him through the mirror. Trembling and shaking, with a sheen of sweat glimmering on his brow, he hunches over, expelling the contents of his stomach. He comes back up coughing and sputtering, his knuckles white against the bathroom counter while he wipes his mouth. He steadies himself for a moment, sucks in a breath of air and closes his eyes before he leans over to retch again. His shoulders shudder with the force of making his body convulse repeatedly.

I close my eyes until he's finished, feeling nauseous myself. Eventually his retching stops and the toilet flushes. He pushes in front of me now, leaning over the sink to splash cold water onto his face.

"What're we going to do?" I whisper faintly.

What the hell were we going to do?

We were young, unmarried, and had been so, so careful. We used protection, avoided certain windows of my cycle when I was most fertile...how could we have been so careless?

My daddy would kill us, no doubt. Elvis' mama would probably cry; she'd raised her son on good southern morals. 'Yes sir' and 'No ma'am', shoes off at the door, church on Sunday, and now he was having a baby out of wedlock. The Colonel was a whole different story. He'd have a stroke. A baby wasn't good for show business. He'd likely swear to Elvis, cursing him for fostering our relationship in the first place. He hadn't liked me before, and he really wasn't going to like me now.

Sniffing, Elvis braces himself against the basin of the sink. His cheeks are still flushed, his head hung low. "I dunno, darlin'. I dunno."

Elvis proposes the next day. He had left the house so swiftly that night that I'd feared he'd run off, leaving me as my mother had sworn he would do when the grass looked greener on the other side. But he returned to me with the only ring that he could find on such short notice and a promise that we'd make it work together.

I cry. He cries. Gladys cries, as I predicted. But she then hugs the both of us, swearing that she will be there for whatever we may need. My parents kick me out in a series of screaming matches and slamming doors, and I move into Graceland. Despite the Colonel's fears, Elvis' career only grows.

And then comes Christmas. Christmas at Graceland was like walking into a place that you would swear as built solely for the purpose of hosting such a holiday. The mansion transformed into a winter wonderland filled with elaborately decorated evergreen trees and tinsel and a perpetually burning fireplace. There were very few nights that ended without the lot of us gathered around the fireplace, sharing news and sipping mugs of steaming hot chocolate.

Each night, Elvis would recline back into his daddy's plush armchair after a long day of composing and recording and spread the expanse of his thighs just enough for me to settle between them. He'd hum, rocking us back and forth for hours, pressing kisses to my hairline whilst conversing lowly with the Colonel and his daddy or Jerry and Sonny.

Tonight, he's got his temple braced against his fingertips, rubbing circles into my arm with his other hand, chuckling as Red animatedly reenacts a conversation he had with a couple fans the other day. Gladys shuffles by us, patting his cheek fondly on her way past before she settles down into her own chair by the fire. A muted knock echos from the front door, and Elvis waves Jerry away with his hand to get it. Other members of the Mafia howl with laughter as Red continues on with his story, pretending to faint onto the sofa. Elvis' chest rumbles against my back.

Amidst the laughter occurring in the living room, Jerry reappears at the end of the hallway. "EP, it's for you."

Flicking his hand dismissively again, Elvis gestures again for Jerry to just deal with whoever it is. It was late and probably just the likes of a stray reporter.

I notice that Jerry's face is pale and ghastly, as though he's seen a ghost. He remains frozen, like a deer caught in the headlights.

Huffing once he realizes that Jerry isn't going to answer the door, Elvis eases himself up from the recliner with a sigh, affectionately squeezing my side as he goes. He slides past Jerry, who hasn't moved from the hallway.

"Jerry?" I ask cautiously as I cross the room. "Jerry, is everything alright?" He clenches his jaw sharply as he finally meets my eyes but remains silent. From over his shoulder, I can see Elvis standing in the doorway.

There's a soldier dressed in military plaid on the other side of the threshold. Snow swirls around him, turning his dark green uniform white. I can't hear their conversation from where I'm standing, but eventually the soldier salutes him and disappears into the dark snowy abyss of the driveway. Elvis watches him go, staring down at something in his hands. Gusts of wind carry snow in through the open door.

Usually I would scold him for standing idly in the doorway, letting the cold air in, but my mouth is almost too dry to speak. "Elvis?"

Slowly, he turns around, his own face echoing the look on Jerry's. His blues eyes are emotionless and glassy. He stares right through me, as though I'm not even there. "I'm bein' drafted.."

Around us, the room falls silent. It is no longer Christmas at Graceland.

—

"Are you ready to see Daddy?" I ask, tugging gently on the little hand attached to my own. Claudia jumps up and down, her heavy winter boots clobbering against the train station platform.

"See train?" she asks, reaching for Vernon's hand. "See train?"

The older man laughs and takes her outstretched hand, pointing in the direction of the tracks. A passenger train is rolling into the station. "That's right. Your daddy's on the train."

Gladys and I smile across anxiously at each other. We'd been waiting for this day for so long. We had grown immensely close in the past two years. After Elvis had left for Germany, she'd become my saving grace in raising Claudia. I don't know what I would have done without her. Probably cry much much more than I did, that's for sure.

The train breaks screech to a stop in front of us, and a storm of people begin milling out of the train carts. We had tried to keep the news of Elvis' return private, but newspapers had gotten wind of it and now there were dozens of reporters waiting along with us. For a moment I worry that he's going to get swept into it all before we even see him. But then I see his face amongst the crowd.

We make eye contact and Elvis' blue eyes light up, that perfect smile appearing on his face. In several long strides, he breaks through the crowd and drops his bags as soon as he reaches us, engulfing me in his arms. Like a big dog that doesn't know his own strength, he nearly knocks me off my feet, but his hold on my body is strong. The hand on my back stabilizes me as he nuzzles his nose into my neck, inhaling into my skin. I can feel his hot breath against my neck, and I have to remind myself that we're in public.

When Elvis pulls away, his cheeks are flushed, eyes glimmering with pure adoration. "S'good to be home, Satnin," he rumbles.

I just laugh breathlessly, my heart thumping with elation. "It's good to have you."

After our shared moment, his attention is almost immediately diverted to the little girl hanging on to Vernon's arm behind us. Elvis drops to his heels and crouches down in front of her, smiling warmly. "You miss me, little girl?"

Claudia stares at him, taking in the man crouched before her. He's massive in comparison, the unyielding material of his crisp sergeants uniform only serving to widen his frame. Her lip quivers.

"Clauds, it's Daddy," Elvis tries, the strain in his voice evident. He holds his hand out to her.

Reacting to his movement, Claudia shifts her body away from him and behind Vernon, a whine coming from the back of her throat.

His handsome face falls when she looks away from him and instead to me, her little grey eyes confused, a little afraid even. I can sense the oncoming panicked reaction before it even happens and am reaching out to Claudia a split second before her little hands grab for me, seeking the comfort of my sweater.

I pull her gently into my arms, hushing her before she can start crying. "It's okay, baby," I try to soothe her, rocking my body softly from side to side. Fortunately, it's enough to extinguish the meltdown before it occurs, and the toddler relaxes in my arms.

I look back up to Elvis once her cries diminish. He's trying so hard not to show it, but I see the pain that flashes across his face. It looks like someone has stabbed him. And now he's just crouching there on the ground, bleeding out. Elvis looks away with a uncharacteristic sniff, shaking his head to mask the pain on his face.

"Let’s go home, yeah?” he says abruptly, putting his hands on his knees and standing up. The rest of us trade apprehensive glances as he gathers his luggage.

“Elvis—”

“I said, let’s go home,” he interrupts me, steely blue eyes locking with mine as he comes to stand before me.

With Claudia in my arms, I swallow thickly and nod. “Okay,” I agree meekly.

At home we have a quiet dinner, Elvis’ family and the entire Memphis Mafia gathered together to enjoy the meal Gladys made. It’s pleasant, really, it is. We laugh and listen to the stories that Elvis shares with us of his time in the service, and he tries to ignore that Claudia won’t sit beside him at the table; that she clings desperately to anyone who isn’t him the entire evening. I try to get him to put her down to bed, but he refuses with the excuse that it would be better for me to do so, and that he’s really too tired anyhow.

And so the both of us are immensely perplexed when the two year old erupts into screaming whilst I carry her to the nursery, as she had been attached to me all evening. I rock her, I feed her, I read to her, but nothing I do consoles her. Truthfully, I am at the point of crying myself when Elvis walks in.

“Here, darlin’. Give ‘er to me,” he encourages gently as he comes up behind me, rubbing his large hands down my shoulders. I pass Claudia, red faced and screaming, over to him. Elvis cradles her against his chest, swaying his body slowly from side to side as he shushes her. Claudia wails louder.

“Baby, she’s not—”

Elvis closes his eyes and begins humming.

Take my hand

Take my whole life too

For I can’t help

Falling in love with you

Claudia has stopped screaming, her cries diminishing into soft whimpers as Elvis sways with her. Slowly, as not to jostle her, he leans his torso down into her crib and detaches her fists from his shirt. Her tiny lips part into a snore as he finally sets her down.

When Elvis turns around, he’s still humming. Only now he’s murmuring the words as he puts a hand on my hip and grabs my hand, swaying us to the smooth hum of his voice.

For I can’t help

Falling in love with you

[powermakar]

Just Not Enough - owen power

Ok so I know that I haven't posted anything in two months (which I am extremely sorry about) all of my classes have been kicking my ass this year and yeah :)

Summary: You open up to Owen about your struggles with everything.

Note: So basically 98% of this is based off of my personal experiences and what I have been struggling with mentally through this year or previous years. Also for the sake of this let's just pretend Owen still goes/plays for Umich.

Warnings: Like 2 swear words, talk of mental health, and struggles with eating. Please let me know if there is anything else I should add.

Words: 921

Overworked and exhausted. That's what you were. Trying to keep up with all of your classes, work your part-time job, maintain a normal sleep schedule, and make time for your boyfriend Owen was taking a major toll on your mental health. 

“Come on Y/n just take a break already, you’ve been working on this organic chem for hours now”, Owen says taking your pencil out of your hand. 

“Owen I really can’t I have an exam in two days and I have no clue what we are even doing. Not to mention I have a project due in anatomy next week, it is like I have no time for all of this”, you groan. Owen just looks at you knowingly. 

“You need a break you can’t just work on homework 24/7 and function normally”, he says picking you up from your chair. 

“Stop put me down, I weigh too much to carry!” You say trying to get out of his arms. 

Owen looks at you like you are insane and says, “What are you crazy? I can probably bench double your weight so don’t even worry about weighing too much”. You just nod and look away, playing with the bracelet on your right wrist. “I have to get to practice but promise me that you will not work on any school work while I’m gone”, Owen says looking you in the eye.

“Ok I won’t work on anything when you’re gone I promise”, you say reluctantly agreeing. It was true, you did not work on anything while Owen was gone but you took a deep dive reflecting on your life. 

This took you to staring at yourself in the mirror in your bathroom. You couldn’t help but notice the bags under your eyes from the lack of sleep and the pure look of exhaustion. You also couldn’t even remember the last time you ate because you were so consumed with everything else that it just slipped your mind. Moving back to your bedroom you try to fall asleep but you can’t. The fear of failure is racing through your veins keeping you up. 

You didn’t know how long you laid there but it must have been over two hours because Owen came back to your apartment. You could hear him calling your name but you didn’t have it in you to respond, he would find you eventually. “Babe, what's wrong?” Owen asks sitting at the end of your bed. You just mumble in response. “Y/n I know you, I know something is wrong. Can you please tell me what’s bothering you so I can help you?” He pleads. 

“Just lots of exams coming up that I don’t want to fail”, I mean that was some of it but not all. You couldn’t tell him how you actually feel. He would probably want to leave you. I mean a first-overall NHL draft pick with a girl who couldn’t even handle the pressure of a few college classes. 

“I know that’s not it. There's more to it and want you to tell me, please. You know I would never judge you on how you feel”, Owen says laying down next to you. 

Turning so your a facing him you finally tell him how you feel. “I’m just so tired of my job, my classes, pretty much everything Owen” you whisper. “I’m scared of failure, I feel like none of my friends even talk to me anymore, I’m jealous of my one friend because she’s just perfect. It is just so much pressure and it sounds so stupid”, you have to stop to prevent a sob from coming out. 

“Y/n… I want to help you in whatever way I can. I will help you study and if it's too much for you I think you should quit your job. I’ll support you if you’re worried about money”, He says pulling you closer. 

“No, I can’t let you do that, I don’t need help. I’ll quit my job so I have more time to focus on school and on eating better”, You tell him squeezing his hand reassuringly. 

“What was that about eating?” 

Of course, you had to let that slip out. You start to tear up again because you have always struggled with it. “It’s just that everyone that I’m surrounded by is just so pretty, skinny, and perfect. I just can’t help but compare myself to them which I know I should not but I just can’t stop. A lot of the time I’m drowning in work that I just forget to eat and I never want to fall down that hole again. I feel like I’m doing my best but it’s just not enough”, you cry. 

Owen starts to rub your arm up and down saying, “Y/n you are perfect just the way you are, and don’t think anything else besides you are so fucking perfect. I Love you just the way you are and there is no reason to change. Who cares how much your friends compare to you? I just want you to be the healthiest you can be. I will do anything in my power to help with this, whether it’s eating lunch together every day or meal planning. I will be with you every step of the way and that is a promise”. 

This just makes you cry even harder. Pulling him into a kiss you say, “Owen you have no idea how much this means to me. It means so, so much.”

[ashxketchum]

MIMATO WEEK 2023 (Random Update)

Note: I haven't been able to write on time as much as I wanted to, maybe by tomorrow I will post my Day 5,6,7 entries but until then I wanted to share something, so here is a prompt I got a year ago that was just sitting in my drafts for no reason! Enjoy 💙💚

Prompt: "Your heart is beating too fast to be close to someone you don't care about."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~ Listen to my Heartbeat ~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Digital World throwing them off track without a warning was something that didn’t make Mimi bat an eyelid anymore, and she was pretty much used to the ground beneath them slipping away in a flash, taking away with it any progress the group had made so far. So of course, she was unamused with the current situation, which was her being stuck in a cave with what looked like a light drizzle falling outside. The funny thing was, that while she couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen rain in the Digital World, what she could remember was that she had never been stuck alone with the blond standing tall at the entrance of the cave.

Yamato had his back to her, as he peered outside, and though Mimi couldn’t see his face from where she was sitting, she knew it was probably scrunched up in a frown as he inspected the raindrops that settled on his hand. She half turned to pass a comment to Palmon and was bitterly reminded once again, that the only occupants of the cave were her and Yamato, and that the whereabouts of their partner Digimon and the rest of their friends were currently unknown to them. She definitely felt anxious, sitting there without Palmon to keep her company or spring into action to protect her if required, and wondered if Yamato too felt a similar unease, though would he answer honestly if she were to raise this question out loud?

Her eyes wandered over to Yamato again, and she was a little taken aback, maybe even slightly jealous of how much the scene suited him. With his pale, yellow hair shining in contrast to the dim, rocky walls of the cave and his lean figure just rightly fitting in the narrow crevice, nonchalantly bathing in the faint rays of light that escaped through the cloudy sky and surrounded him, he looked nothing less than a muse artists would stroke carefully onto their canvases or poets would write sonnets about. She held back a sigh, it was as if the colour blue, or rather the emotion blue, was meant to be embodied by him, and to Mimi that was a feat worthy of being envious over.

“What should we do?” She decided to speak up, as sitting around and admiring Yamato’s perfect features was something that she could do from anywhere, getting out of here and reuniting with Palmon took priority for now.

Yamato turned, and as expected, with a frown on his face he fixed his eyes on her, and she noticed a hint of surprise reflected in them, as if he had not expected her to follow his lead.

Which was something Mimi couldn’t deny either, she was more of a ‘my way or high way’ kind of girl, but when it came to things related to the Digital World, all of them had adjusted to a pattern that was hard to shake off. If something goes wrong, look to Taichi, and if Taichi is not around, turn to Yamato. It was simple and easy to remember, and pretty much the mantra that had managed to keep them all in one piece during their many escapades, even though lately they hadn’t had much of a success with it since both Taichi and Yamato were butting heads so frequently. Mimi was liking this new side of Yamato however, it was different from what she remembered of him from their childhood, and his recent tenacity was something she could relate to and even found herself drawn towards.

“I don’t think we should move about carelessly.”

She raised her eyebrows, well that was unexpected, and even a little bit disappointing. She could’ve expected that kind of statement from Jou or Koushiro, but given the recent circumstances, Mimi assumed that the blond would be ready to go all out at any given moment. She stood up, dusting off the dirt from her skirt, she wasn’t going to sit around and wait to be found.

“Suit yourself, I’m going to go look for Palmon and the others.”

Mimi moved to make her way out of the cave, but Yamato raised his arm, blocking the entrance as he shot her a glare, “I’m worried about Gabumon and Takeru too, but you saw what happened, do you really think it’s a good idea to go out there without our Digimon partners?”

He was referring to the attack that had broken the group from their brief moment of slumber and had unexpectedly split them up. A shiver ran down Mimi’s arms as she remembered the daunting size of the Digimon that had attacked them out of nowhere, and internally she couldn’t help but agree with what her senior was saying. It was not a good idea to move around carelessly, but it was an idea and that’s what she needed right now instead of sitting still and waiting for someone to come calling.

“I’m not saying you’re wrong,” Mimi began, raising her eyes to meet his frowning gaze, “but maybe that’s what the others are thinking too, so how will we find each other if no one makes a move? We didn’t come to the Digital World to sit around and wait for help to find us, at least I know I didn’t.”

She knew she had hit a nerve and she did feel a bit guilty about it, ever since the whole thing with Meicoomon had begun the one who had been advocating for action the most had been Yamato, so for her to suddenly chide him about sitting tight was a low blow on her account. But she couldn’t help it, Mimi could feel the restlessness racing through her veins for every minute they spent together inside the cave. She had never spent so much time alone with him at such close proximity and the new feelings that were being stirred up in her heart when she looked at him, broad shoulders firm with determination as he refused to lower his arm and allow her to pass through, were completely unfamiliar to her.

“So you would gladly leave me behind?”

His voice was just a tone above a whisper but it was almost as if it rang through the cave like a loud, blaring alarm. It takes two to tango, is what his captivatingly blue eyes were saying as they fiercely peered into her own, if Mimi wasn’t afraid to cut corners then neither was he, which made it all the more difficult for her to look away and actually respond to his question. Not that coming up with an answer to his question would be easy, the way he was staring at her made it seem like he could look directly into her soul and would be able to sniff out any lies.

But Mimi had managed to dye her hair pink without her parents finding out until she walked out of her room with her hair bouncing about like a cart of cotton candy had exploded on it. She could handle one blond tundra.

“Gladly,” Mimi said, her voice slightly quivering, but still managed to resound firmly around them. She took a step forward, hoping that the threat of proximity would make Yamato lower his arm and give her the space to make her exit, but instead, he just tightened his grip on the rocky wall, muscles taut around his arms as he continued to stare her down, challenging her to come even closer.

She swallowed a gulp, he was the last person she expected to raise the stakes in a situation like this, what she had expected was that he’d get embarrassed and she’d take that opportunity to take the upper hand and make her escape. However, in the moment it was Mimi who felt embarrassed as she realised that if she raised her fingers just a little bit, she might be able to trace the shape of the tense muscles that clung to the white fabric of the shirt, and as crazy as it sounded to her, that’s all she could think about as they stood close facing each other down with such a fiery determination for perhaps the first time since they had met on the bus to summer camp all those years ago.

Why Yamato had decided to meet her challenge was still something she was unsure of, under normal circumstances he might’ve silently glared daggers at her and focused his attention elsewhere, that’s how he usually fought with people who weren’t Taichi, but then again Mimi and he had rarely ever disagreed on anything before, so there was no way for her to know how he would push back in an argument against her. She wished somewhere deep down, that if this was how things were going to go down, then she had been better off not knowing at all.

Mimi squeezed her eyes shut and tried to get the image of the blond looming over her in all his handsomeness out of her mind, what was important right now was winning this game so she could put some distance between the two of them and never have to deal with all these feelings stirring up inside her ever again. All she needed were a couple of words that would do the trick, they didn’t even need to sting per se but just surprise him enough for her to get a shot at creating an opening in the barrier that he had put up, metaphorically and physically both.

“I’m not intimidated by you.” She began, raising her voice by a pitch that made him wince as he looked over at her with humorous doubt, “In fact, I’m rarely intimidated by people I don’t care much about. And you’re one of them.” Mimi folded her arms across her chest and met his eyes with equal vigour, letting him know through her posture that she too was firm in her decisions and he wouldn’t be able to change her mind with a few lousy tactics. Lying wasn’t something she was particularly good at but the tension in the air gave her the strength to step out of her comfort zone and make a bold statement that would surely hit all the right notes and make Yamato angry enough to lose his cool.

But lately, he had been full of surprises and Mimi should've known better.

Just for a moment, she saw anger flash across Yamato's eyes before he covered it up with an expression she did not recognize. The corner of his mouth curved into a ruthless smirk as without a warning he lowered his head to level with her face, the tip of their noses now only centimetres apart. His warm breath brushed past her chin, which considering the chilliness surrounding them would have been a welcome feeling if Mimi’s whole body hadn’t frozen at the sudden lack of distance between the two of them. She wanted to lift her hands and push them against his toned chest so he would be forced to take a few steps back, she wanted to turn on her heels and stalk back into the inner depths of the cave so the cold air could help douse the fiery excitement that was now rushing through her veins.

But her hands and her feet refused to listen to her demands and stayed put, she felt a hot, burning sensation take over her cheeks as Yamato’s gaze dropped to her lips for just a brief moment, before his eyes met hers again, shining with an emotion she couldn’t find the right words to describe with. Mimi could feel her heart thumping rapidly against her chest, its hammering drowned out the faint pitter-patter of the rain outside in her ears, and she meekly prayed that the loud sound couldn’t reach Yamato because the air of confidence she had put on would crumble the minute he knew how nervous being this close to him made her feel.

Her prayers went unheard of course as the smirk on Yamato’s widened with amusement.

“Are you sure about that, princess? Because your heart is beating too fast to be close to someone you don’t care about.”

A soft whimper escaped her lips, and Mimi was ashamed of her reaction but her voice seemed to have gotten lost somewhere deep inside her throat. It was almost unbelievable that she was losing a battle of stubbornness against Yamato of all people, so all Mimi could do was blame the change in her attitude on the stupidly cold cave that made her long for the warmth of excitement that came with being the absolute centre of Yamato’s attention. She also blamed the Digimon that appeared out of nowhere and separated their little group in such an odd manner. Because she was sure that if a few more of their friends and their Digimon partners were around, this disagreement of theirs would have ended with both of them huffing and puffing and turning away from each other, not with their faces hovering so close that a single a push or a trip of her feet could send her lips crashing onto his-

“Yamato san, Yamato san, can you hear me?”

The two teens immediately pulled back at the sound of their friend’s voice. Mimi took a few steps back into the cave, her hands pressed to her cheek as she tried to hide the redness across her face. While Yamato ended up stepping out of the cave and into the rain, his pale cheeks however, betrayed no hint of embarrassment, only his chest fell and rose irregularly as he took a few deep breaths.

“Yamato san, can you hear me?”

The two turned their attention to the source of the voice, Yamato's digivice which was attached to his pant’s belt loop. Frowning, the blond removed it from his pants and raised it towards his mouth, responding in a hesitant tone.

“Koushiro?”

“Yes! I’m glad I was able to connect with you too. I’ve gotten hold of everyone else, well except Mimi san but I was planning to reach out to her next.”

The digivice being used as a walkie-talkie was something new to both of them, but if someone was capable of figuring that out it was Koushiro. Yamato lowered the digivice, holding it between the two of them so Mimi could lean in closer and listen better too.

“Mimi’s with me.”

It was a simple statement, a factual one in fact, but the words made Mimi’s stomach churn unbearably. She wanted to slap herself across the face just to get out of this stupor she seemed to be under, Yamato and she had never been anything more than casual friends, and she should know better than to dream of something more.

“I see...That’s...uh that’s good to hear.”

Koushiro’s voice seemed more timid than earlier, as if he was not happy to hear about how the two of them had ended up together. Yamato too must have noticed the change in their friend’s voice as he scowled at the device in his hand, possibly annoyed that Koushiro would take a dire situation like this and make it about his feelings for the brunette.

“What do we need to do next?” Yamato cut right to the chase, the urgency in his voice made it seem like he wanted to put an end to the whole dilemma of being stuck alone with Mimi as soon as possible and that finally made the jumbled-up feelings inside of her calm down for a minute.

“Let me explain the rendezvous location to you…”

Mimi tuned out the conversation, knowing that Yamato would guide her in the right direction, she took that time to collect herself instead. By the time they left the cave and followed Koushiro’s directions to where they would meet up with their friends, the surge of emotions she’d felt by simply being around Yamato alone began to simmer down. The two walked in silence, with Mimi trailing slightly behind. She was dragging her feet across the ground so slowly, which came as a surprise to Yamato and he would often turn to check if she was still around. He must have thought her behaviour odd, considering how aggressively Mimi had wanted to get out of the cave to go look for Palmon a while ago.

But now, she knew that the minute the two would reunite with their friends the problems surrounding the Digital World would take centre stage in both their minds. Until the battle was over the two would probably never get the chance to think about what had almost happened between them in the cave. What Mimi feared the most, however, was that both of them would eventually forget the heated moment they had shared and never again make an attempt to get close to each other.

Which is why she walked slowly, to keep the memory of Yamato’s mesmerising blue eyes staring at her lips fresh in her mind for as long as she could. Deep down she hoped that Yamato would do the same, because maybe, just maybe if both of them held onto the memory of their tryst tightly, it wouldn’t wither out as a dream and remain rooted in their minds as something real for years to come.

- x -

[moonlight-melts]

Frozen mind, ray of light

If you asked me to explain myself, I couldn't answer.

The context of this is voluntarily unclear, it's a story that takes place post-canon that I started threading a little while ago and I kinda. Don't wanna explain it all before I'm 100% sure about the course of events. Please note however that Yūki was overwhelmingly supportive of this, surprisingly enough.

Also, when I said I was rewriting Charlie's story, I did. Not. Have that in mind. But then... Mh. Yeah. He kinda took over my brain, and, y'know how this kinda thing goes, lol.

Title comes from "Lone Prayer" from P.ersona 1, but I listened to "Alleycat" from P.ersona 5 while writing this, and I recommend you listen to it as well to ~set the mood~ (it's sad. The mood is sad).

Quick warnings before I shut up: This is. Um. Not really happy. I make brief mentions of self-destructive behaviour, murder and I make one (1) quick allusion to abuse, not necessarily in that order. Nothing graphic, though. Also I mention Shido (not by name). And this is dialogue-heavy because it's a first draft and I don't wanna go through the pain of editing it right now, lol.

Please reblog my writing! Reblogs > likes :)

¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸

The sun started to set a little while ago, and most of the room I walk in is dark enough for me not to completely distinguish his features.

What I can see, however, is how tightly his fists are balled as they rest on his thighs. How his head hangs low. How shaky his breathing his.

I can't possibly look any better. So much is happening all at once and none of us is exactly sure how we can deal with it. I don't say anything when I sit down next to him.

Now, anyone might ask themselves "how did we get here?", but not me. Not him. Not us. We know what happened, we know why, and...

-It's really unfair.

I say that last part out loud, and he turns to me. What remains of daylight slightly allows his face to show, and the way his face is as neutral as mine must be just makes me bark an acidic sound that's halfway between a laugh and what might as well be a sob.

-You're only noticing that?

His voice reflects the bitter smile he makes.

-Fuck no.

I feel like he might break his fingers if he keeps clenching his hands like that, so I cover them with my own. His gloves are warm to the touch, and yet I know his hands are cold.

He opens his mouth to say something, but ends up letting out a sigh instead. The air is heavy. I know why. These kinds of scars, we both have them. And considering our unusual line of work, we're far from being the only ones.

-If I could, he says after a while, I'd kill him.

-I'd help.

-How?

-I don't know. But I'd help.

-I don't need help.

-I know.

-So why would you?

-Because sometimes just knowing that there's someone you can crash to makes things a bit easier.

He doesn't answer that for a while.

-I've never needed anyone to "crash to" until now. Why would it change?

I hesitate a second or two.

-I'm just saying... I know you don't care much about your life just like I don't care much about mine.

Before I can go on, he cuts me off:

-That being said, I guess I care about your life.

-That's my point. I guess I care about yours as well.

My mind can't help but wonder if that makes sense. I think it does. I hope it does.

-And that's why, I add, I'd help you. Because I care about your life and...

-And?

Shit. I feel dumb because now I have to say something, but if I say what I want to say, I'd probably ruin everything, right?

But then I look up to see his eyes and the last shreds of sunlight lets them appear this shade of scarlet I start to feel safe with.

And my voice comes out on it's own.

-And I don't want you to hurt yourself on your own.

-That's... Very cheesy. Why so much sentimentality?

How can anyone be this dense? He's worse than me! I squeeze his hands a bit and shake my head.

-Because I think I'm falling in love with you.

Not a word escapes him before a sour giggle.

-Why?

-No idea. You're a bit of an asshole.

-Excuse me, says who?

-Heh, fair enough. But, yeah. I'm... I guess I kinda love you.

Hesitation clouds the room for a moment.

-Do you mean that?

-I do. I mean it. I love you.

With a sigh, he slumps his head on my shoulder.

-Uh, you okay?

-Will you shut up for a second and let me stay like that?

-Can't guarantee anything about the "shutting up" part, but yeah.

-That'll do.

We stay like that for a long time. His breathing slows down and it no longer sounds panicked. His hands are slightly less tense and that's good enough for me.

-I think... He whispers after a moment. I think I can love you. Maybe.

-That's enough for me. We have time.

-Do we?

-Yeah. I'm not about to let you die, y'know?

He snickers in a surprisingly light way.

-Alright.

-Hey?

-Mh?

-I love you, Akechi.

He just takes my hands in his. The sun has set.

For the first time in days, despite our awful position, we sleep through the whole night.

And when I wake up, our fingers are intertwined.

[blocksruinedme]

SMALLETHO WEEK STATUS: PENULTIMATE REPORT

(please let this be penultimate report)

Okay I have 11 hours to get these out in saturday my time zone and i am going to do it, or i'll take my me off and throw me in the lake (it's right there down the street I'll do it.)

You'd think they'd be done by now. You'd think given how many days ago they were first "basically drafted" they'd be done right now. But noooo, some bitch (me) decided the fic "deserve more" and there are scenes "they really need" and like fine yes I still agree but why can't they just be done.

Red Life fic:

the first three sections are about incidents after turning red than made etho go "huh" about joel. they serve their purpose, but currently exist mostly in the form i scrawled down on the back of another fic in my car after the dentist. I could def describe things more, add a little more reflection about their place in the double life ecosystem as they start murdering and burning

gotta make good kiss at end, and the last bits of lead in, and the little bit after

the main issues here is that i gotta go rewatch DL ep 4 from multiple POVs. at minimum i need pearl's pov of dying, and maybe check for some other people's reactions to joel's shit that are not in smalletho vids but in universe they would have heard. (if only i could shove knowledge of every traffic episode fully into my head, sigh. so much content.

so that's not too bad!

fuck me there's 36 [] around words i don't like/phrases that need to be replaced/etc. fml fml fml

LARPer au morning after fic

apparently i'm adding all this backstory, which means i got to take it out o the author's notes, which i hope will make it more appealing. it's mostly about the party that this is morning after, but it's joel pov and *very* focused on getting laid, he's kinda aware that a lot of shit went down for pretty much everyone else

i want to add a very quick awkward bit with joel asking jimmy about the party the night before, currently he's totally succeeding at making joel (who is very distracted) think he's fine. and it's not gonna get explained in this story, but i'm not setting up a giant mystery, it's just more of "joel missed some shit last night". if that upsets people... i'm sorry! i'm actually very new t writing fic but it feels fine? it's a 5k story, alluding to the rest of the world seems fine

then it's just, fuck holding my breath... 40 sets of []. many many many of them, when i have people look at them, they say "that's fine", and it's just me at "will i have a time to struggle for a synonym/rephrasing

Dear everyone who compliments my writing skill (which i love, keep on doing it)

i hope you are not comparing yourself to me. here's some reasons why i probably have a leg (several legs?) up on you

i am very old and have been writing in one way or another possibly since before you could write.

I legit used to teach sat prep in writing, i have been trained in this and made money on it

if you live like i do, when you are my age you will also have a pretty big vocabulary

i usually edit a lot. I get beta, i throw problem sentences and such at friends, i've gotten proofreading from actual professionals. If i published most of my first drafts, well. I might not get as many "well written" compliments (though i think my plot and characterization would be similar levels of quality, my voices not so much - i have google docs for the way people talks and go through my dialogue looking for places to change things. it's actually great. i could share it?)

it's wild that what is my most popular fic by 3x is the one that went from thought of to posted in <12 hours and thus had only quick editing. so, it's not alway from editing

i just never want anyone who doesn't have those things to compare themself negatively to me, y'know? That said I'm a hypocrite, I compare myself negatively to professional writers in other fandoms. So, do as i say, etc

am i avoiding getting back to writing? yes

back to joel talking about asking scott to help him get tarted up

okay one last thing, me being pleased with my writing - i am jumping between my early 20s larper au and my late 20s/30s burning man au, and i think i am doing a good job at giving age appropriate characterizations to similar version of the same characters. my 21 year old Etho feels 21 to me and my early 30s Etho feels early 30s to me. These ensembles are very much based on my own experiences so I've got a lot to work with, 60 year olds would be harder :)

[yeonchi]

Thirteenth Doctor Reviews: The Final Verdict (and Ncuti Gatwa is the Doctor)

In July 2017, Jodie Whittaker was announced as the Thirteenth Doctor, taking over Peter Capaldi’s Twelfth Doctor as the first actress to play the Doctor. Seeing the reaction to the casting led me to realise that I should see how she does in the series first before making any judgements, which I expressed in a November 2017 post that served as the prelude to this review series. Cut to May 2022 and Ncuti Gatwa was announced to be taking over as the Doctor after Jodie Whittaker announced her departure alongside Chris Chibnall the year before.

Given how much time has passed between July 2017 and now, it’s amazing to see how things have changed throughout this time. When I started this review series in October 2018, I had come out of a pretty toxic phase in my internet career (that almost saw me deplatformed) and was trying to find my feet after turning a new leaf. Now in October 2022, I’m talking about the things I love (from a new point of view) while maintaining a balance between my personal and online lives. It’s almost like this review series has seen me through a significant phase of character development.

Now with Jodie Whittaker and Chris Chibnall’s era on Doctor Who well and truly over, I take a look back at my reviews and give my final reflections and verdict for the whole era.

Series recap

These are recaps of each series’ reviews with some extra thoughts made in hindsight.

Series 11

Series 11 is the series I have the most positive view of, though part of it can be attributed to me being a bit dense on SJW politics and trying to find ways to justify it in my head. Graham O’Brien, Ryan Sinclair and Yasmin Khan join the Doctor as her diverse fam from different walks of life. There is no major running story arc in this series and given what we saw in the next two series, it’s another reason why I see this series in a more positive light.

Despite this, the series does still have its flaws. Why wasn’t Krasko’s past elaborated on so as to give context on what people he murdered or why he, as someone presumably from the 52nd century, thought the Civil Rights Movement was when “things started to go wrong”? Why did the Doctor criticise Jack Robertson for shooting the giant spider even though she knew it was dying anyway? Why wasn’t Manish the one who shot Prem instead of that other guy?

According to Bowlestrek (and possibly some others), this series felt like a slight on white men and single fathers, with several episodes containing at least one villain-coded white male, but I honestly didn’t feel that vibe when I first watched those episodes. I probably wouldn’t feel that vibe if I watched those episodes again, but hey, I’m not a white Canadian who’s bitter about SJWs taking over multiple fandoms, I’m an Asian-Australian with niche interests who’s becoming bitter at the world around me and trying to understand why.

Also, I said that I liked The Battle of Ranskoor Av Kolos, but given how Chibnall admitted that it was his least favourite script of his entire tenure because the filmed version was only the first draft (he didn't have time to do a second draft because he was helping all the rookie writers and doing rewrites), I want to come out and say that I only liked the episode ironically.

Series 12

With the previous series electing not to bring back any old enemies, Series 12 decided to revisit the broken trend (following the return of the Daleks in the previous New Year’s Special, Resolution), with the first returning villain being the Master, who was last thought to have been killed on the Mondasian colony ship as Missy. This series also reintroduced two-parters after doing away with them in the previous series. Notably, I went on holiday just as the third episode aired and came back just before the fifth episode premiered on Australia, so I ended up having to write up reviews for three episodes in the space of five days. Luckily, I wrote down some notes on my phone so I was able to get them out quicker.

Unfortunately, this series is what redpilled me to the SJW agenda going on in the Chibnall era. Orphan 55 served as nothing but a lecture about climate change without at least a decent resolution to the remaining characters featured in it. Then we get to the biggest turning point of the series, namely the Timeless Child revelation. After the Master revealed to the Doctor that he destroyed Gallifrey in Spyfall Part Two, the Doctor meets a woman named Ruth Clayton in Fugitive of the Judoon, who is apparently revealed to be a previously-unknown incarnation of the Doctor, known as the Fugitive Doctor. The relation between the two Doctors (apart from them being the same) is left up to the viewer until the Master tells the Doctor about the Timeless Child and that she was said child, at which point it becomes implied that the Fugitive Doctor is indeed the Doctor’s past incarnation, on top of being specialer than special.

Yaz does get a bit of a highlight after Graham and Ryan’s mini-arc in the last series, but it isn’t much. Sadly, Graham and Ryan leave the series in Revolution of the Daleks. I probably would have liked them to stay for another year given how things would unfold in 2020, but the filming for Series 12 ended at the end of October 2019 and the filming for Series 13 wouldn’t commence until November 2020, so the timing wouldn’t have been right there.

Series 13

After two years of waiting and an absolutely atrocious promotion campaign that didn’t reveal the release date until three weeks before the premiere, Series 13 came out in a different format than usual. Due to the coronavirus pandemic, Series 13 was slated to be only 8 episodes long instead of 11 (which was already cut down from 13 and a Christmas Special back during the RTD and Moffat eras), which was later confirmed to be a six-episode serial collectively titled Flux along with three specials, one of which was additionally commissioned for the BBC’s Centenary. Following Graham and Ryan’s departure, their place in the TARDIS would be taken by Dan Lewis from Liverpool.

After my redpilling in Series 12, I decided to hold the series to a higher standard than I did before. The series in general was alright, but it still had its flaws; we were jumping all over the place with plot threads and characters who served little relevance until the end, every second episode was extended instead of balancing the lengths of each episode, and the main villains of the series (Swarm and Azure) ended up being overshadowed by lesser villains (the Sontarans and the Grand Serpent) in the finale.

Unsurprisingly, this series doubled down on the Timeless Child revelation, with a woman, revealed to be Tecteun, confirming what the Master said to the Doctor at the end of Series 12, essentially killing off any potential speculation to the contrary. Surprisingly though, the revelation was not elaborated on further as the Doctor dumped the fob watch containing her apparent past into the TARDIS, thereby pussying out of the double-down. The last two episodes of the series were negatively rated because of those reasons.

As for the specials, Eve of the Daleks was a boring New Year’s Special with an annoying female guest character, while Legend of the Sea Devils was a pretty good Easter Special with good Cantonese language representation, though it felt like it could have been a regular episode seeing as it was only 50 minutes long and it had no mention of Easter. Although The Power of the Doctor, in the end, never revisited or retconned the Timeless Child revelation, it brought back old companions and Doctors for the memberberries. So admittedly, while Flux in itself was abysmal enough for me to nearly null out my review score, the 2022 Specials kind of redeemed it, but not by much.

Top 5 good things about the Chibnall era

Even among Chibnall’s disgraces to the franchise, we did get some gems out of it. Not gonna lie, it was a bit complicated trying to think of good things to talk about this era.

1. Can You Hear Me?

This episode actually got me to open up about some people from my past and later, it inspired me to talk about the IRL context to the characters and elements featured in my personal project when I started the Kisekae Insights series in the second half of 2020. This episode also provided significant character development for Graham, Ryan and Yaz where it was scarce in other episodes. Of course, there was one element in the episode that in the end, I didn’t like, which I’ll talk about in a bit.

2. Returning characters

In Series 12, we had the surprise return of Captain Jack Harkness in Fugitive of the Judoon before he returned again in Revolution of the Daleks. Unfortunately though, his actor, John Barrowman, had been cancelled earlier in the year due to accusations of sexual harrassment that resurfaced while similar accusations were being raised of Noel Clarke, who played Mickey Smith.

Series 13 saw the return of Kate Stewart with a rather lackluster level of involvement, though that was later made up in The Power of the Doctor, which also featured the return of Ace, Tegan Jovanka, Mel Bush, Jo Jones and Ian Chesterton alongside Graham and Dan. In addition, the First, Fifth, Sixth, Seventh and Eighth Doctors also appeared as projections or figments of the Doctor’s consciousness while at the end, the Tenth Doctor returned as the Fourteenth Doctor in a surprise move to prepare for the 60th anniversary specials in 2023.

In all honesty, the returning characters and allusions to past series during the Chibnall era felt like memberberries because they were coming off a series that was lackluster at best and disgraceful at worst. It didn’t look so bad during the RTD or Moffat eras because for the most part, the former was riding highs of success by the time Series 4 was being produced, while the latter was celebrating the 50th anniversary of the series.

3. Stellar performances from some actors

A couple of actors I’d like to highlight are Sacha Dhawan and Jo Martin, who respectively played O, the Spy Master and Ruth, the Fugitive Doctor. Although they played characters who were admittedly unnecessary (the Master had died and I would have rather had the Rani return, while Ruth, you’ll see later), they did a great job expressing their characters regardless, particularly since the Spy Master felt like a ripoff of John Simm as Harold Saxon, but with a classic series twist (shown by his readoption of the TCE and unique TARDIS among other things) and the Fugitive Doctor felt more like the Doctor than the Thirteenth Doctor was.

I will say though, it’s funny that the Master and Ruth were announced to be getting Big Finish audio spinoffs up to a fortnight after Legend of the Sea Devils aired when it previously took years for the Ninth, Tenth and Eleventh Doctors’ content to be cleared; this happened in August 2014, while in January 2018, the Twelfth Doctor’s content was cleared, just over a week following the broadcast of Twice Upon a Time. From the announcement, it appears as though the Thirteenth Doctor’s content was cleared six months before The Power of the Doctor was released, though it can be argued that the episode was completed a year before. But hey, I suppose if anyone in the Chibnall era deserves a Big Finish spinoff, then it’s the Master and Ruth.

4. Graham and Ryan’s character development

Although Series 11 had no clear-cut story arc, the relationship between Graham and Ryan follows a minor arc in the series as Graham tries to get Ryan to acknowledge him as his stepgrandfather, with a bit of r/FellowKids to boot. We see this in a few episodes where Graham tries to get Ryan to fistbump him only to be rejected, then in the finale, Ryan finally reciprocated Graham’s fistbump. Additionally, this series also shows Graham trying to deal with Grace’s death before finally learning to move on.

5. Select episodes

Aside from Can You Hear Me?, Nikola Tesla’s Night of Terror, Praxeus and The Haunting of Villa Diodati are some of the best episodes out of Series 12. The Haunting of Villa Diodati did seem a little boring at the start, but it all changed once the Lone Cyberman showed up. While there wasn’t an episode in Series 11 I would say that I really liked, Village of the Angels is probably my favourite episode from Series 13; likewise with The Haunting of Villa Diodati, the first half doesn’t have a lot going for it, but the second part is where the episode starts to get good. It’s likely that way because both episodes were written by the same writer (Maxine Alderton) and they were both broadcast before their respective series finales.

As for the specials, Resolution was a pretty great episode, followed by Legend of the Sea Devils and admittedly, The Power of the Doctor.

Top 5 bad things about the Chibnall era

Unsurprisingly, this series feels like it has more negatives than positives, particularly in Series 12 and 13. Originally, my plan for this section was going to be “top 5 bad things about the Chibnall era apart from the Timeless Child”, but I just had to put it in anyway.

1. The Timeless Child storyline

The Timeless Child storyline makes up the main background arc of the Chibnall era, making it a highlight and one of the reasons why this era isn’t fondly received by a lot of people.

The first mention of the Timeless Child was in The Ghost Monument, then it wasn’t mentioned again until the end of Spyfall Part Two, when the Master revealed that he destroyed Gallifrey because of what he learnt about the Timeless Child. In Fugitive of the Judoon, the inclusion of Ruth and the Fugitive Doctor was a secret addition on Chibnall’s part (I wouldn’t really say last-minute tbh) that played into his plans for the arc. Ascension of the Cybermen featured a C-plot centred around an Irish policeman named Brendan, which was revealed to have been a cover-up for the Timeless Child revelation that would be elaborated on in the next episode, The Timeless Children.

The story goes that Tecteun, a Shobogan and one of the indigenous beings of Gallifrey, found the Timeless Child beneath a wormhole into another universe and adopted them. However, upon discovering their ability to regenerate following an accident, Tecteun studied and experimented the Timeless Child for a way to replicate this regeneration, presumably killing them multiple times in the process while doing so (as regeneration is normally seen as the death of an incarnation). Eventually, Tecteun was able to replicate this on herself and as a result, she gave this power to other Shobogans, but limiting them to a maximum of twelve regenerations. This was the creation of the Time Lords, thereby making the Timeless Child their genetic template. Later on, the Timeless Child would come to work for the Division alongside Tecteun and eventually, Tecteun would have their memories removed as they became the Doctor and decided to leave the Division (presumably in their Ruth incarnation).

With this, the Doctor is no longer originally from Gallifrey and the First Doctor is not the first incarnation of the Doctor that we know. The Doctor ends up being a chosen one that spawns a group of chosen ones only to end up being reduced to the group they spawned. If this origin story was exclusive to the extended media (like the story of The Other) then it would have been fine, but it was introduced on-screen on a series where TV is god. It raises too many questions and plot holes, it makes the Doctor’s past complicated (as if it wasn’t complicated enough) and it was never deeply elaborated on again.

Later on, near the end of Flux, the Doctor would come into possession of the fob watch apparently containing all the lost memories of her past as the Timeless Child, but when she had the opportunity to open it and regain her memories, she decided to dump it in the TARDIS.

In an interview with Doctor Who Magazine, Chibnall admitted that the inspiration for this storyline was personal as he was adopted and he wanted to explore the adoption myth, about where someone is from versus who someone is. Mind you, in a world where #StopAsianHate crybabies think asking “Where are you really from?” is a microaggression, this really isn’t a good look. Also, being adopted doesn’t give Chibnall an excuse to disrespect nearly 60 years of canon the way he did. In a video breaking down the story of Flux and putting it into context with the Timeless Child arc, Chibnall justifies pussying out of the double-down as a “be careful what you wish for” kind of thing, but by that point, we had waited two years for something significant to come out of it, so it just felt a bit spiteful.

People say that the Timeless Child twist allows new stories to be told and adds mystery to the Doctor’s character. In regards to the first point, The Time of the Doctor already did so by giving the Doctor another regeneration cycle. While it does potentially allow alternate and non-canon Doctors to be canonised, I’d rather it be left to the fandom or extended media and not dictated by the TV series itself. In regards to the second point, unpopular opinion, but the Doctor doesn’t need any more mystery than they already have since the Moffat era, particularly when it destroys canon the way the Timeless Child arc did. We know that the Doctor is a Time Lord from Gallifrey who stole a TARDIS and became a renegade. Thanks to RTD, we know that the Time Lords fought the Daleks in the Time War and both sides were wiped out thanks to the Doctor. Thanks to Moffat, we know that neither the Eighth or the Ninth Doctors fought in the Time War, but a previously unknown incarnation who future incarnations rejected, but later came to accept. The Hybrid arc ended up being unnecessary, but it wasn’t as bad as the Timeless Child arc was even with the answer being non-existent or deliberately ambiguous. Also, over 30 years have passed since the Valeyard’s introduction and nobody ever bothered to address his existence yet. What gives?

Before the double-down, a lot of people were hoping that the Master was lying about what he discovered. Some went the easy way out and speculated that the Master was the Timeless Child, but I don’t agree with it because the Master’s past is likely just as complicated as the Doctors and even then, it doesn’t address Ruth’s place in the timeline (I’ll buy pre-Hartnell at best, but not between the Second and Third Doctors).

However, my ideal solution would be that the Doctor is actually cloned from the Timeless Child and that Ruth is one of the Timeless Child’s incarnations. The Time Lords attempted to clone the Timeless Child but ended up creating an ordinary male Time Lord instead, so they dumped him somewhere and left him to live his life as he did. The clone eventually becomes the Thirteenth Doctor and meets the Timeless Child again, who is now in her Ruth incarnation, and after a few encounters, she encounters Ruth getting their memories erased by the Division. The Doctor somehow saved the Timeless Child and set them up to live a new life; maybe they became a child again without their memories and the Doctor brought them back to the planet where Tecteun found them and they began walking hand-in-hand towards the future, or the Doctor managed to prevent or interrupt the process and save Ruth while also defeating the Division for good before leaving her to live her own life in her TARDIS. Or better yet, don’t do the Timeless Child altogether and instead address something else that’s important, say the Valeyard. Though I must say, given how this arc was never elaborated on in the 2022 specials, I think I could buy the Doctor being a clone of the Timeless Child and Tecteun deciding not to reveal that the Doctor was a clone so as to save her the trouble of wondering whether she was the clone or not, like the Space Beth arc in Rick and Morty.

Personally, I will not accept that the Doctor was the Timeless Child or had any incarnations pre-Hartnell First, including Ruth or the Morbius incarnations (which I believe to be Morbius’ incarnations); William Hartnell’s First Doctor always was, and always will be, the original Doctor.

2. The Doctor’s callous dismissal of Graham’s cancer concerns

Towards the end of Can You Hear Me?, Graham tells the Doctor about his fear that his cancer might come back before the Doctor responds, “I’m still quite socially awkward” without any reassuring words. In another interview with Doctor Who Magazine, Chibnall states that Graham’s cancer concerns were inspired from his own cancer diagnosis at the age of 22. After learning this, I honestly think that scene is totally something r/thathappened, but this is fiction, not real life, so it wouldn’t have hurt to put in some reassuring words because fiction doesn’t have to follow real life to a T. Heck, even Chibnall admitted in that interview that there was another version of that scene where the Doctor does give Graham some reassuring words. Here, I’ll give you my example that I quickly made up in the first hiatusbreaker update: “I should say a reassuring thing now, shouldn’t I? I’m still quite socially awkward, but I just want you to know that you’ve got me, Ryan and Yaz in the TARDIS, and we’ll be there for you if anything happens, just as you have been there for us.”

OK, so people might not know how to respond to something they have no experience of (which is understandable) and Chibnall was just trying to express that through the Doctor, but you’d think that the Doctor has lived for so long that they would at least be able to show empathy and support, particularly in an episode that mainly focused on mental health issues. Even with context, the way the scene was written still makes it look like the Doctor was being callously dismissive of Graham’s concerns. Yes, I know the Doctor said she was socially awkward and that I said in my review that her fam should have known this because they’ve been with her for so long, but sometimes opinions change when you get a better understanding of the situation from different people and it still doesn’t excuse the way she dodged the subject.

Look, being adopted and being diagnosed with cancer when you’re young are relatable situations, but this feels like Chibnall brought them up as excuses for the flawed writing in the respective episodes.

3. Hamfisted SJW politics without entertaining stories to back them up

The third episodes of Series 11 and 12, Rosa and Orphan 55, were the two series-requisite SJW-fest episodes focusing on social justice topics, namely racism and climate change. Unfortunately, they didn’t end up being as entertaining as expected; Rosa failed to elaborate on the background behind Krasko’s imprisonment and racism, while Orphan 55 failed to provide a decent resolution for Bella and Kane, making the episode’s ending feel like the Doctor lecturing the audience. I suppose improving the episodes the way I suggested wouldn’t do much to change the nature of how the episodes were presented, but at least it would make it entertaining.

Arachnids in the UK and Revolution of the Daleks featured Jack Robertson, an American businessman who served as an expy of Donald Trump, though in retrospect, given events that happened in the past two years, he could also be seen as an expy of Joe Biden, given how Robertson was shown to hate Trump in-universe (meaning that he could only be a Democrat candidate) and his actor, Chris Noth, is a liberal who got #MeToo’d in 2021. It’s so hilariously pathetic.

War of the Sontarans was an entertaining episode, but it featured Mary Seacole, who some say wasn’t actually a nurse even though she did help save lives on the battlefield. I didn’t know a lot about Mary Seacole and I’m not from the UK so I didn’t really care much for her character, but I believe that Seacole should be applauded for the good deeds she did, whether she was actually a nurse or not.

4. Lack of promotion and elusive marketing

I don’t know if it’s just me, but there hasn’t been a lot of marketing surrounding this series, with each series only getting trailers or release dates three weeks before their premiere. Even in the RTD or Moffat eras, the promotion of the series typically began at least three months before they were due to premiere. During Series 13, however, the BBC were being deliberately elusive with their promotion of the series with their #FindTheDoctor ARG that didn’t even reveal an airdate followed by an advertising campaign in Liverpool that also involved them deactivating their social media accounts for a day. The fact that the whole campaign won awards just shows how people will accept anything when they’ve been blueballed for two years.

On top of that, there used to be a lot more behind-the-scenes insights before the Chibnall era with Doctor Who Confidential, but as the years went on, the featurettes became shorter, now going up to around 5 minutes at most. Additionally, from 2009 to 2013, there were quite a number of documentaries produced as retrospectives to the series, with a majority of them being produced by BBC America in response to the series’ growing interest in the US and the 50th anniversary. All this reduction in behind-the-scenes content just goes to show how far this series has fallen over the past decade.

5. Poor writing and lack of significant character development

While Graham and Ryan did get significant character development throughout their appearances on the series, the Doctor and Yaz didn’t get much compared to them.

The Thirteenth Doctor ended up being an expy of the Tenth and Eleventh Doctors without any attempt to make her unique or understanding how the Tenth and Eleventh Doctors’ qualities make them unique. The Thirteenth Doctor’s moral outrages at people killing enemies (like the giant spider, the Sontarans and Marsissus the Sea Devil) were clearly ripped off from similar notions from the Tenth Doctor, along with his aversion to weapons, survivor’s guilt and “no second chances” attitude, but Chibnall didn’t seem to understand why those elements mattered to the Tenth Doctor nor the potential consequences of keeping the enemies alive. Aside from the Timeless Child, there’s no particular moment in this series that cements the Thirteenth Doctor as the Doctor (yes, I mentioned that thing at the start of Series 11, but that was post-regenerative and things have changed since then). I suppose the Doctor’s character can be summed up by whatever it says on the TARDIS Data Core article about her, but I don’t think that it’s enough.

Yaz got very little character development during Series 11 and 12, but then Series 13 went out of its way to regress her character development. OK, so we know that Yaz is a socially-awkward Muslim who was bullied at school and suffered racism while working as a police officer, but meeting the Doctor changed her life and eventually, she decided to quit the police force after randomly going on secondment for extended periods of time (and those ten months she spent being obsessed with finding the Doctor). Upon being separated from the Doctor and Dan in the Crimea and being transported to the Temple of Atropos, we saw that she had to have “WWTDD” - “What would the Doctor do?” - written on her hand (like a child) when at that point in her adventures with the Doctor, that phrase should have been the first thing that came to mind, not to mention that she has also been a police officer, potentially signifying that Yaz is too incompetent to rely on her instincts and logic. Later on, when Yaz gets trapped in the 20th century with Dan and Professor Jericho, she couldn’t recall the year they had to get back to even though she and Dan were supposed to know. They only figure it out once they get to Joseph Williamson’s tunnels in Liverpool and they find the door leading back to 2021. I don’t really believe in it myself, but there’s a reason why people like Bowlestrek and NoelZone call her “Yaz the plank”.

Throughout her run, the Doctor seemingly showed favouritism towards Yaz, which the fandom soon spinned into a ship known as “Thasmin”. This ship was explored during Series 13, but it was kind of rushed and there wasn’t much development because Chris Chibnall and Matt Strevens never planned on exploring it, though the resolution was okay. Eve of the Daleks apparently showed Dan “outing” Yaz to the Doctor, but I’m not LGBT so I can’t really comment on it.

Dan, like Yaz, doesn’t get a lot of character development, but I feel like we know enough about him in his first episode to conclude that he doesn’t need it that much, not to mention his sense of humor and the meme of him being “Evil Dan”.

And one more thing, I’ve got to mention Ryan’s dyspraxia, because it was only mentioned in like five episodes and it didn’t play that much a part in his character development nor do we see it affecting his adventures with the Doctor negatively. Chibnall could have written Ryan with autism and I wouldn’t be able to notice this.

A common rebuttal for the Chibnall era being bad because of its wokeness is “It’s not the politics, it’s the writing!” Um, is it possible that both things (among others) could have contributed to the Chibnall era being bad? Let me put it another way: The series isn’t bad because the writing is woke, but the series is woke because the writing is bad.

During the RTD and Moffat eras, the showrunners were working on other shows while working on Doctor Who; RTD was producing Casanova while working on Series 1, then was overseeing Torchwood and The Sarah Jane Adventures throughout Series 2 to 4 and even continuing after stepping down as showrunner in 2009, while Steven Moffat was producing Sherlock alongside Mark Gatiss simultaneously throughout his run as showrunner. Chris Chibnall, however, was not shown to be overseeing anything else while realising his “five-year plan” for Doctor Who (though given the coronavirus pandemic, he probably couldn’t do anything else even if he wanted to), so in all honesty, he had no excuse for the quality of writing we got from him. On the other hand, though, the Chibnall era was all about fresh blood in the name of diversity, so I could probably forgive the amateurish quality as being produced by rookies and not by experienced individuals. We can only hope that the RTD2 era will really bring back the show we knew and loved.

Final points tally

So in a few episodes, the Doctor has been giving out points, which she changed to gold stars and stickers as the series went on. Out of interest, I’ve been keeping a tally and I’d thought I’d sum everything up to see how everyone did.

Yaz: 20 (10 points S11E5, gold star S12E6)

Ryan: 20 (gold star S11E6, gold star S12E6)

The Doctor: 5 (given by Ruth S12E4)

Graham: 10 (gold star S12E6)

Gabriela/Adam/Jake: 10 (one gold star each S12E6)

Jack Harkness: 10 (gold star NY2021)

Mary Seacole: 15 (gold star and sticker S13E2)

The Master: 15 (self-granted gold star and sticker BBC100)

Yaz and Ryan are at equal first with 20 points, Mary Seacole and the Master are at equal second with 15 points (if you want to count the Master giving himself points), Graham along with Gabriela, Adam and Jake from Praxeus are third with 10 points and ironically, the Doctor is last at 5 points.

Final era rating and verdict

Specials are included in the ratings.

Series 11: 81/110 (73%)

Series 12: 83/110 (75%)

Series 13: 18/90 (20%) Hypothetical: 47/90 (52%) Conservative: 27/90 (30%)

Final era total: 175/310 (56%) Hypothetical era total: 211/310 (68%) Conservative era total: 191/310 (61%)

In the end, despite all the flaws and disgraces I pointed out with the Chibnall era, it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. I compared Chris Chibnall with Kamen Rider producer Shinichiro Shirakura and writers Shoji Yonemura and Toshiki Inoue; that comparison continues to stand even at the end of the Chibnall era. In terms of wokeness, to compare the three showrunners of the revived series up to now, RTD is someone who has been woke from the beginning, yet knows how to subtly incorporate politics in a way that still makes the episode entertaining; Steven Moffat is someone who had to learn how to be woke judging from the reception of Series 10; while Chris Chibnall is the r/FellowKids version of woke. The way the Chibnall era was presented seemed to be appealing to a new generation of younger viewers (given the modern music used in Series 11 and its promos back in 2018), but as time went on, it seemingly stopped appealing to some of the more hardcore fans with the Timeless Child arc. Would I still go to say that Chibnall is a hack writer? Maybe. I’m not a good judge of acting skill or film production, but I like to think that everyone, cast and crew alike, did an okay job with what they were given; undoubtedly, this era would have been better with different people at the helm.

Look, I’ve been trying to stay positive about this entire series, but I think we all need to accept that this era of Doctor Who sucked. If there’s one thing I’ve learnt over the past 2-3 years, it’s that sometimes, the people you hate, or the people you think you’re supposed to hate, were right about some things (but not necessarily everything) all along. In politics, it might be the people you call conspiracy theorists, grifters, anti-vaxxers, facists and Nazis, or even individuals like Donald Trump, Elon Musk, Nigel Farage, Pauline Hanson or Craig Kelly. In Doctor Who, it’s the people you might call racists, sexists, or NMDs (Not My Doctors); the people you gatekeeping assholes don’t consider fans because you think fans have to accept everything offered to you like consumers without being allowed to complain. Yes, and I am really saying this, people like Bowlestrek, Nerdrotic, Heel vs Babyface and NoelZone were right all along.

Although I don’t join in the fan discourse of the series on social media, I have to condemn the actions of people like Trilbee (Mr Tardis), Jay Exci and Tharries; Trilbee’s videos on Bowlestrek incited his fans to harass him, with one even making repugnant remarks about him doing something unspeakable with dogs, Jay Exci debating Bowlestrek and failing to properly counter anything he says while giving the excuse that he was tired, and Tharries used Bowlestrek and NoelZone for clout before turning on them. I’m just listing vague examples here, but I’m sure other people may have receipts. You may think NMDs are bad, but let me tell you that the people calling out NMDs are just as bad as them, so they should stop trying to act like they’re innocent of their actions just because they have the clout of their enabling fanbases.

When I started these reviews, I set out two questions that I hoped to answer with these reviews. I briefly answered them in the prelude for the Flux reviews and I’ll answer them again in this post:

1. How does Jodie Whittaker’s performance set the bar for other Doctors after her, male or female?

If it weren’t for Jo Martin and The Power of the Doctor, Jodie Whittaker would have set a really low bar for future female Doctors, but now, I can say that maybe another woman can become the Doctor in 10-15 years and do a better job than Jodie Whittaker, regardless of whether you feel she did her best with the material she was given. As I said in the aforementioned post, just because one Doctor acts one way doesn’t mean another Doctor will act the same way and as such, each Doctor should be measured and judged individually.

2. Will the so-called “SJW/feminist/diversity agenda” affect the way I see and think about Doctor Who?

Admittedly, it did, but it was mostly because Chibnall was being rather unsubtle about it, and even then, all the SJW red flags I found, especially in regards to Rosa and Orphan 55, got me talking about racism and climate change among other things. I was hoping that I’d find something offensive about Hong Kong, but it’s good that there wasn’t; in fact, Legend of the Sea Devils did a good job in Cantonese language representation, something that was last seen briefly in the third episode of the Third Doctor serial, The Mind of Evil. There was also the case of Chibnall adding LGBT characters for representation in Series 11 before they got killed off, but Praxeus did it right because the LGBT representation wasn’t killed off in the end.

Looking forward to RTD2 and Ncuti Gatwa

Admittedly, I was going to do a post about Ncuti Gatwa’s casting back in May, but I never really got around to it, so I’m doing this here.

So right after The Power of the Doctor concluded, we got a sneak peek into the 60th Anniversary Specials, then a couple of days later, the new Doctor Who logo was unveiled, reverting to a classic design, while also announcing that the BBC are joining forces with Disney on Doctor Who, with the BBC continuing to broadcast the show in the UK while the rest of the world (except Ireland) will have it exclusively on Disney+. Also, Disney is expected to give the show higher budgets than before, on top of Sony having a majority stake in Bad Wolf Studios, so yeah. OK, I can kind of get behind putting it on Disney+ worldwide so everyone can get it at the same time (and without ads unlike on BBC America), but why does it have to be streaming-exclusive? In Australia, the ABC will no longer be airing new episodes as a result and I don’t know how many other countries will get screwed over because they can’t watch it for free.

Honestly, the only reason why the series is still on the BBC in the UK (aside from them being the creators of the series) is because RTD is a fervent supporter of the BBC and the licence fee. I know that streaming appears to be the growing trend nowadays, but aside from it being free, I watch the episodes on ABC iView because I know they’ll be available on there right after they premiere in the UK so I can watch them as quickly as possible in order to avoid spoilers. While the Disney+ deal does make it easier for some people to watch the episodes, it’s actually become harder for others to do the same. I hope the BBC and Disney are able to chalk up some kind of a deal to give broadcasting rights to other broadcasters including the ABC, but if nothing changes by November next year, at least we’ll always have torrents.

Going into conspiracy theory territory and speculate on why things are the way they are. I suspect that RTD was asked to come back after the outrage that the Timeless Child arc caused; the BBC fired Chibnall and decided not to renew Jodie Whittaker’s contract, but were told that they could do a final series to wrap things up. Jodie leaving after three series would be believable, but Chibnall leaving after one Doctor would be surprising. If it weren’t for RTD’s willingness to return, the series may have been cancelled and The Power of the Doctor would likely have ended with a fade to black. Other conspiracy theories say that “Chaos in Cardiff” actually happened and that Chibnall and Whittaker were going to quit after Series 11 but were asked to return for Series 12, but that kind of neglects Chibnall’s “five-year plan” comment from the start of his era. There’s also the “hostile takeover” theory I covered in the Flux prelude which kind of turned out to be true but not really. I guess time will only tell.

UPDATE - 19 November 2022: So RTD has come out and confessed that he asked the BBC if he could come back to Doctor Who as early as December 2020 following the lockdown tweetalong for The Runaway Bride when he suggested the idea to Catherine Tate, who then suggested it to David Tennant. Once he knew that both of them were willing to return, RTD emailed Piers Wenger, Director of Drama at the BBC, to throw the idea out there. While this may have been the case, there is still the possibility that either person wanted to return to Doctor Who or the BBC was willing to let RTD come back because of the outrage that the Timeless Child revelation caused. Given what we would later see during Series 13, it was a good thing that RTD decided to come back when he did.

When Ncuti Gatwa was announced as the Doctor back in May, my first thought was, “Well, at least the Doctor’s a man again.” Jo Martin aside, Ncuti will be the first black actor to play a numbered incarnation of the Doctor and his incarnation is slated to be the first gay Doctor. RTD has stated that Ncuti’s casting wasn’t about diversity and representation, but a couple of days before that, he stated that he had someone else in mind before Ncuti came in to audition and “simply stole it”, which makes me a little suspicious, but at any rate I look forward to seeing how he does as the Doctor.

Aside from Ncuti, Yasmin Finney, a trans-female actor, has been cast as Rose and is slated to be the new companion with her debut being in the 60th anniversary specials. On top of that, David Tennant has been announced to be returning as the Fourteenth Doctor alongside Catherine Tate, (the late) Bernard Cribbins, Jacqueline King and Karl Collins, reprising their roles from the RTD era. Neil Patrick Harris has also been cast as a villain who is apparently slated to be the Celestial Toymaker, but further details aren’t known as of yet.

UPDATE - 19 November 2022: Apparently Millie Gibson has been cast as Ruby Sunday, who will be the Fifteenth Doctor’s first companion. So is Rose going to be in Series 14 or what?

The three 60th anniversary specials are due to air in November 2023 before Ncuti’s first episode is expected to premiere “over the festive period” in 2023. In the review for Eve of the Daleks, I was raging about why RTD couldn’t do Series 14 early in 2023 before the 60th anniversary specials, but I can sort of see why the arrangements are what they are now.

While the Chibnall era all but killed off most of my interest for Doctor Who, RTD’s return reinvigorated it and now, I would like to announce that I intend to continue reviewing new Doctor Who episodes, even if only for the content. At the start of this review series, I had plans to give up this series if the next Doctor was a woman, but now, I’m happy to remain as a casual fan (this would be the same if Jo Martin were actually announced to be the next Doctor). My focus in the Chibnall era was seeing how the SJW agenda would affect how I see the series; for the RTD2 era, my focus will change to seeing how RTD does (in writing and the SJW agenda) in comparison to Chibnall.

This series of reviews has been simultaneously posted to a Google Site which I share with my friends on my personal Facebook account. This was because I was still hesitant at sharing my personal project outside of my Facebook friends back then and I also wanted to share my findings on the Chibnall era without revealing this Tumblr to anyone, not that anyone would care nowadays. For future reviews, they will be exclusive to Tumblr and I won’t be doing the bookending prelude and epilogue posts for the era, just the ones for each series.

I would like to acknowledge everyone who read and liked my reviews over the past four years, even if they were few and far between. I would also like to acknowledge Blogtor Who, as it was the site where I got most of my review header screenshots from (as shown in the collage below). Like I said, I’ll be back for the RTD2 era, but until then, feel free to follow me and check out my content both related and not related to Doctor Who, such as Kisekae Insights, Doctor Who 10 for 10 and my reviews of Koei Tecmo’s Warriors games, which are being lined up for future release.

Once again, thanks for following the Thirteenth Doctor Reviews and I hope to see you around.

[softspiderling]

speak now (or forever hold your peace) | b.r.b.

summary: it's supposed to be the happiest day of your life.

pairing: bradley “rooster” bradshaw x reader

warnings: angst??? IDK! also violence

word count: 5,5k

author’s note: this has been sitting in my drafts for SO LONG! and then i decided to write the entire fucking thing, i'm not even joking, this fic was very much different two days ago but i have been waiting for the perfect moment and i guess it’s now🤭 thank you to sol who has been expressing her excitement for this fic (and we laughed about taylor swift inspired fics, bc this is OBVIOUSLY inspired by speak now (and that one japril moment. you know which one)). I HOPE YOU LIKE IT!!!!

Fixing the collar of his suit, Bradley stared at his reflection in the mirror. He had opted against his dress-whites, knowing you preferred him in a normal suit. Now however, he severely regretted it, missing the layer of protection his dress-whites provided him. He felt stuffy in the suit, vulnerable. He wondered if there was still enough time to go home and change, when there was a knock on the door. 

“Hey, you just gonna stay in here for the whole ceremony?”

Natasha was eyeing him carefully, not an ounce of shame present on her face, even though she was standing halfway in the men’s bathroom. Bradley put up a brave face, but he knew that she’d see right through it. God, he could already see the pitiful looks on his friends as soon as he’d step out the door again.

“I just- needed to fix my bowtie,” Bradley sniffed, straightening said bow-tie before turning to look at her. Natasha raised an eyebrow at him.

“You’re good, right? No regrets? No desire to ditch?”

Bradley looked back into the mirror to avoid Natasha’s gaze, resisting the urge to run his hands through his hair. He had been thinking about ditching the second he entered the venue, but that would just be taking the easy way out. You were his friend, and he should be there for arguably one of the most important days of your life. His own feelings be damned.

“No, this is her wedding. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be. It just… Sucks.” 

Natasha didn’t reply, clearly waiting for him to elaborate, her arms crossed over her chest. Judging by her face, he wouldn’t get around it. She always disapproved of the reasons why you and him didn’t work out.  

“I mean. I knew that this day would eventually come. She’s always been open about wanting to get married and you know, settling down and all. But I thought I had more time to get over her. I mean, I probably won’t ever get over her, but... I sound stupid, don’t I?”

“Yes.”

There was no hesitation in Natasha’s voice and Bradley shot her a pained look. With a sigh, she uncrossed her arms and fully stepped inside the bathroom, shutting the door behind her and leaning against it.

“I’m sorry you feel this way. You know how I always used to say that the two of you were kind of perfect together. Honestly, I still think that. But it’s literally the day of her wedding. You made your bed, now you have to lie in it. It’s too late now.”

Bradley’s chest tightened, and nodded quickly, dropping his gaze to the floor. “Yeah… Yeah I know.”

“I’m sorry,” Natasha said, reaching out to squeeze arm. “I wish things would’ve been different.”

So did he.

With a deep breath, Bradley glanced at the mirror one last time, before he put his hand on the door knob, straightening his shoulders. “Okay. Let’s go, before you get caught trying to sneak a peak.”

Bradley stepped out of the bathroom and was immediately thrown back into the bustling crowd, full of nicely dressed people. Even Callie, your maid of honor, had cleaned up nicely. 

“Hey, wasn’t sure you’d make it,” she said, not unkind, eyeing him up and down. “She’s down the hall, if you want to say hi.”

Bradley gave her a curt nod, before leaving Natasha to her girlfriend, walking down the hall, looking over his shoulder as the two women watched him go, conversing quietly. Callie had been cold ever since you broke up with him, treating him cordially, like a colleague, but never as a friend. And he didn't blame her, really.

He knocked on the brown door, before stepping inside, where you were sitting in front of the vanity, dressed in a white fluffy robe.

“Hey. How’s the blushing bride?”

“Hi,” you said and he smiled at you, somewhat sorrowfully, taking a seat on the ottoman across from you. “I’m kind of nervous.”

“Pretty sure that’s normal wedding day jitters,” Bradley joked. 

You gave him a self-deprecating smile, clearly lost in thoughts. 

“You okay?”

Bradley’s brows furrowed in worry as he took in your face and the slight frown. People said that wedding jitters were especially nerve-wracking, but you had always been a champ. And you had been looking forward to your wedding day ever since you were a little girl, he knew that.

“Yeah. Just can’t believe it’s finally my wedding day, you know?”

Bradley pressed his lips together, cupping your cheek gently. “I’m happy for you. Henry is a good man and he treats you the way you deserve to be treated. I’m really glad that you found someone who can give you what you want.”

Even though I wish I could give you what you needed.

You smiled at him, your eyes glassy. Wedding jitters really were something, huh?

“Guess your life plan really is on its track, isn’t it?” 

You choked out a laugh and he grinned at you warmly, squeezing your hand. He grabbed a tissue from the vanity, pressing it gently against your lower lash line so as to not ruin your make-up. 

“Do you want me to give you away?”

“W-what?”

He flushed, realizing his poor choice of words. 

“Do you want me to walk you down the aisle?” he rephrased and you chuckled drily, shaking your head.

“Oh, um, no. I’m good, thank you.”

Nodding, Bradley stood to leave, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek, holding onto your shoulder a bit too long than necessary before walking towards the door. He paused, just before crossing over the threshold, turning back like he wanted to say something. Bradley took a deep breath, his lips parted, the words almost tumbling out of his mouth, before he shut his mouth and just like that, he stepped out of the room, the falling shut behind him quietly.

Bradly breathed out harshly, rubbing a hand over his face, wondering if you were thinking about the same thing he was.

“Where is this going, Bradley?”

Bradley’s been ordered for a special deployment overseas. It was all hush-hush, and he didn’t know how long it was going to take and it made you face the impending doom of your relationship. Honestly, he  knew it was stupid to start something with you in the first place. From the first time you talked, you had made it clear that you wanted to find a good man and settle down, have a family and a house with a white picket fence.

Something he could never give you. 

He was still young when his father had died, but he grew up watching his mother juggle with the job of a parent, a job that was supposed to be filled by two parents. Bradley swore that he’d never do this to anyone he loved, that he’d never settle down and have a family himself. 

You didn’t have time to date someone and “see where this is going”. Even so, Bradley had always orbited you, drawn to your carefree attitude and your fierce loyalty towards the people you loved. His stance on settling down was about the only thing that held the two of you back. Instead, you danced around each other, flirted mercilessly, were friends. 

Just friends.

But after a night full of tequila shots and Bradley on the piano, he got weak. And he’d been weak ever since.

Things with you were simple, and it was almost scary how the two of you fell into a relationship that was so intense and burning, he should have known that this would blow up in his face one day.

“What do you mean? The mission isn’t going to take forever, half a year tops. You’ll still be here when I get back, yeah?”

He pulled one of his signature Hawaiian shirts out of his closet and threw it over his tank top, barely paying attention to the conversation. 

“Bradley, I am serious.”

With a glance over his shoulder, Bradley took one look at your face, before he crossed the distance between you, sitting on the bed. Lifting his hand, he stroked your cheek gently, a somber look on his face. 

“I want to get married.”

The words visibly cut him and Bradley immediately shut down, shaking his head as he pulled his hand away. Deep down, he’d known that this conversation was coming. He had been pushing it off, distracting you with slow kisses and wandering hands, but there was no pushing it off now. “You know I don’t want to. You’ve always known. Why are you bringing this up?”

“You’ve always known what I wanted, Bradley. What is it, what we’re doing here? Are we just gonna keep dating until we’re old?”

“Why are you turning this into an argument?” Bradley asked defensively, his cheeks turning red, like every time he got mad. “Fine, we both knew going into this that we’ve had different plans for the future, but I thought-”

“You thought what? That I’d just abandon the life I’ve always wanted?”

“This isn’t fair,” Bradley snapped. “Why can’t you respect my decision? It’s perfectly normal not to want to get married.”

“I respect your decision,” you said calmly and Bradley paused, his chest heaving as all the anger suddenly left his body. 

“Then what’s all this about?”

“It’s about me respecting my decision and what I want. And-...” you swallowed thickly, words stuck in your throat. Bradley’s eyes widened when he realized what you were about to say. “I think we have to break up.”

“Now, hold on-”

“Do you want to get married? To me?”

“You know it’s not about you,” Bradley pressed, his breath quickening. “It’s- I am doing this for you!”

“It’s a simple question, Bradley.” 

He opened his mouth, making a sound at the back of his throat, his eyes wide. Bradley didn’t really say anything, but it was enough for you to know. You smiled sadly, tears welling up in your eyes as you put your hands on his shoulders. “Maybe in another life… Maybe we will get our happy end then.” Pressing a soft kiss on his cheek, you left the room quietly, left him. 

Bradley sat there for an hour, stupidly waiting as if you’d come back, even though he knew you weren’t.

The break up had been hard. But he knew that you made the decision with a clear head. It wasn’t fair of you to want him to change his mind on a principle he was set on and it wasn’t fair of Bradley to expect you to give up on marriage. Even though you went no contact with him, he had thought of you every single day while he was on deployment and when Bradley got back, he just begged for another one until he got shipped off to Japan.

When he got called back to Top Gun and bumped into Callie, he couldn’t help asking about you and somehow the two of you were drawn back together, like you were destined to be in his life. And when he first heard about your engagement from Callie, Bradley thought about going to your place and stealing you away, begging you to take him back. 

Bradley wiped his sweaty hands as he walked between the chairs in the venue, before sitting down. He was jittery, and with Jake on the chair next to him, that probably wasn’t going to change any time soon.

“You sure you can make it through the ceremony?”

Bradley detected a hint of concern in the other man’s voice and he gave him a nervous smile, nodding. Jake clapped his leg gently, not entirely convinced, but there wasn’t any time to question him further, as the wedding march started playing. Bradley, along with the other guests, stood up. Your bridesmaids floated down the aisle where Henry was already next to the minister, looking perfectly fine in his steamed suit. The entire wedding party looked like a match-made in heaven, dressed in soft colors, but when you appeared at the end of the aisle?

You took his breath away. 

As you slowly walked past all of your guests, Bradley felt the sudden urge to grab your arm and run, so he stuffed his hands into his pockets, shifting from one foot to the other.  You gave him a small smile when you passed him and the one he returned was rather crummy. It should’ve been him waiting for you at the altar. 

God, he was a mess. 

Henry offered you his hand when you reached the bottom of the stairs, and together you ascended, stopping in front of the minister. 

“Could you maybe try and sit still?” Jake hissed to Bradley’s side, but he could barely hear him. The minister was droning on and on as the happy couple stood at the front of the venue, but all Bradley could hear was the blood rushing to his ears. He thought he could do it, sit through the entirety of your wedding ceremony, congratulate you after and have a few drinks at the party, maybe even dance. But now that he was sitting here, watching you get married to another man? He thought he was going to get sick. 

You and Henry turned around to look at your guests, smiles on your faces. Bradley’s mouth dropped open, and he suddenly felt so hot.

“And you, Y/N’s and Henry’s closest friends and family, are here today to bear witness to their union. Will you promise to love and support their marriage in all the days to come? If so, respond we will.”

“We will.” 

The two words got stuck in his throat, even if he had wanted to, he couldn’t have uttered them. For a split-second, your eyes met Bradley’s and he shifted in his seat. You were smiling, but the smile never really reached your eyes. Taking a deep breath, Bradley shook his hands out before suddenly standing up. There was rustling between the seats as everyone turned to stare at him and Bradley started sweating when you furrowed your brows. Bradley opened his mouth, but he couldn’t find the words.

“Now’s not the time, Bradshaw,” Jake hissed, gently tugging on Bradley’s hand before he sat down again. Bradley exhaled deeply, wringing his hands and you blinked at him nervously, before turning back around, while Henry frowned at him for a second too long. 

He knew that his friends were staring at him and Natasha leaned forward, subtly shaking her head at him, a horrified look on her face. But Bradley felt like he was suffocating if he didn’t speak up right now.

His hands were shaky as he got up once more, but his voice was strong, as it echoed through the room.

“Please don’t marry him.”

The minister stopped mid-sentence, and suddenly all eyes were on Bradley again. The silence was almost unbearable, his skin was prickling at the shocked and angry faces of everyone around him, but he had his eyes fixed on you. You were the only one that mattered.

“I love you,” Bradley said and the commotion he caused was nearly comical. “I made a mistake. I should’ve asked you to marry me the first time we kissed, because that was when I knew that I never wanted to spend a day without you ever again. I never should have let you leave, I should have fought for you. For us. I realize my timing is kind of shitty. I’m sorry it took me having to see you almost getting married to someone else to realize that,” Bradley swallowed thickly. “Don’t marry him. Please.”

When all of the words rushed out of his mouth, Bradley was relieved and terrified at the same time. Next to him, his friends’ reactions varied from covering their faces from embarrassment, mouth agape from the shock and just pure rage from Natasha. You were staring at him with wide eyes, your lower lip trembling. The tension was palpable and the longer it took for you to say something, anything, really at this point, Bradley started sweating, slowly processing what he had done. He was about to turn on his heel and run until he was in Canada when you bunched up the skirt of your wedding dress in your hands. 

Walking down the stairs, you slowly approached him and Bradley held his breath as you stared up at him, face unreadable. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, his heart beating against his ribcage when you suddenly raised your hand and slapped him across the face.

The other guests gasped in shock and stunned, Bradley held his cheek, his mouth dropped open. With a shake of your head, you took off, running down the aisle until you disappeared around the corner. Callie quickly followed suit, giving Bradley a look of disbelief as she passed him. Bradley however was rooted in his spot, and nobody moved, nobody even dared to breathe. 

When Bradley had to eject from his F18 during the mission, it was something he never wanted to experience again. His ears were ringing from the explosion and when he was ejected,  all of the oxygen left his lungs. The air was splitting cold, almost burning against his warm skin and when he slowly parachuted down into the ground, pines and needles scratched up his face, before the freezing snow hit him in all the wrong places. Every single limb was screaming in pain and he was so cold.

This was worse.

Bradley exhaled deeply, trying to loosen the knot in his chest, but it only coiled in tighter, especially when Henry stalked towards him. Bradley hadn’t lied when he told you that he liked Henry, because he did. He was a good man. A good man, who was about to sock him in the face, judging by the way his hands were curled in fists.

Whatever was coming, he’d deserve it. But Bradley squeezed his eyes shut anyway, not wanting to get punched in the eye, and he braced for impact.

But it never came. 

When he opened his eyes again, Jake had his hand wrapped around Henry’s wrist, his face hard. 

“I know you’re angry, but this is not the solution. Walk it off,” Jake said evenly and Henry scoffed out a laugh, turning his wrist out of the other man’s grip. 

“Get the fuck out of here.”

Henry came dangerously close to Bradley, his eyes furious, before he spat at his feet, storming off. Bradley was still frozen. 

“We should probably go,” Javy said, gently pushing Jake so he’d move Bradley. “I know we’re a lot of people, but literally his whole family is here and I am not sure if I can fight Henry’s grandma.”

It was a scuffle to get out between the rows of chairs, and Bradley was of no help, stumbling around like he was drunk, needing his friends to steady him as he walked out, past the guests who were slowly clearing out of the venue as well, throwing dirty looks in his direction. Somehow, he got in the backseat of Javy’s jeep, Jake on the passenger seat while Natasha was to his left, watching him with narrowed eyes.

It was only then, that it slowly started sinking in what he had just done.

“Oh my god…” he moaned, horrified, leaning his head down, burying it between his knees. “What the fuck did I do?”

“What were you thinking?” Natasha , her face contorted in anger. “Do you realize what position you put her in?”

“Trace, not now,” Jake muttered and Natasha leaned back in her seat with a scoff, crossing her arms over her chest, staring out of the window. The rest of the car ride was spent in silence, and by the time the car rolled to a stop in front of Bradley’s house, he was miserable.

Without waiting, he tumbled out of the car, trudging inside the house, heading straight to the fridge to grab a beer. He’d nearly drunk the entire bottle by the time the others walked inside, almost a complete set. His squadron lined up in front of him, Jake giving Bradley a pitiful look, handing out beers to everyone, giving Bradley a chance to collect his wits, before it inevitably all came crashing down on him.

“That was fucked up, Rooster.”

Out of all the people, he had expected Bob the least, especially with the expletive. He really messed up badly.

“We’ve had her wedding invitation for ages, you had plenty of chances to tell her how you feel, why would you leave it to the last second?” Reuben asked and Bradley dropped his gaze, because he knew he was right.

Logan made a noise. “His timing was shitty, yes, but the way she reacted tells me she had second thoughts.”

“She reacted like that because Bradley put her on the spot, are you fucking joking?” Natasha snapped at him and Logan’s eyes widened, raising his hands defensively. “She’s been dreaming about this day all her life and you just went and fucked it all up, like it was easy.”

“Tash, take it down a notch,” Javy said and Natasha glared at him. 

“No, I am not going to coddle him. He fucked up, big time and he needs to own up to it.”

“Jesus, I know I fucked up, okay?” Bradley suddenly burst out, his breathing heavy. “I shouldn’t have interrupted the ceremony like that and I shouldn’t have let her leave in the first place all those years ago. But it was not easy for me, Natasha, so don’t say it like I did it for shits and giggles!”

Natasha sighed with a deep breath, her shoulders relaxing a bit, though there was still a frown on her forehead. Bradley looked at his friends, who all wore expressions varying between worry and pity, when he realized that there were people missing.

“Where’s Billy and Neil?”

“I think they’re at Callie’s. Things at the venue kind of bombed after we left and she asked them to come help,” Brigham said, purposefully vague and Bradley’s eyes shoot to him immediately.

“Is-?”

Brigham shifted uneasily on his feet, shrugging with his shoulders. “I think so, yeah.”

“Um. I think I’ll go and apologize, right?” Bradley asked, shoving his empty beer bottle on the counter and Mickey made a hesitant noise.

“I don’t think that’s the best idea? Maybe the two of you need space right now?” He said and Reuben nodded, agreeing with his backseater.

“Yeah, I think you need to give her some time. And you should use that time to collect your bearings, too. Get your head sorted.”

Bradley deflated, leaning back against his fridge and Jake gave him a look, before clucking with his tongue. 

“Alright, how about everyone just get changed and get some rest? And then come back, we’ll do dinner back here, that okay, Bradshaw?”

Jake glanced at him, raising an eyebrow and Bradley muttered a yes in response, knowing that he was only trying to help. And it was probably best if he didn’t stay alone right now, or else he’d do something stupid again. Everyone voiced their agreements and then started filtering out of his kitchen, not without clapping Bradley on the shoulder in consolation. 

Pressing the heel of his hand in his eyes, Bradley let out a deep sigh, before looking up at the remaining aviators in his kitchen. Natasha had her arms still crossed, Javy eyeing her like he was considering putting a leash on, Jake just, uncharacteristically worried and Bob.

“I don’t have enough food in my fridge to feed 11 people,” he then said. He barely had any food in his fridge, if he was being honest, since he was supposed to be eating dinner at your wedding. 

“We’ll just pick up pizza later, don’t worry,” Bob said, giving Bradley a small, comforting smile. “You should rest up.”

Bradley nodded, heading out of the kitchen and upstairs into the bedroom, not missing how the hushed conversation started as soon as he left the room.

“- him? He’s a grown man and he made a mistake.”

“You’re kicking him while he’s down, Trace, have a bit of sympathy.”

“That’s rich coming from you, Bagman, I-”

“Hey, let’s just, take a breather, okay?”

The rest of the conversation faded as Bradley climbed up the stairs and finally reached his bedroom, dropping down on the mattress, face first. He was drained, emotionally and physically. His cheek was still stinging from when you bitch-slapped him across the face. Sitting up, Bradley groaned in frustration, suddenly feeling like he was suffocating, tugging on his bow tie until it unraveled, tossing it somewhere on the floor. His suit jacket quickly followed, the dress shirt got dropped on the floor, and with a bit of resistance, his dress pants got discarded on the floor as well. Grabbing the nearest piece of clothing, he threw on a black shirt and some sweats, hoping to ease the tightness in his chest. Bradley took a deep breath, that was too shaky for his liking, his skin was itching and he was just way too warm. 

He had to get out of there. 

Getting to his feet, Bradley tumbled down the stairs, only stopping briefly in the door to the kitchen, his friends freezing when they saw him. Bradley was sure he looked like a lunatic.

“I need some air,” he gasped out, before disappearing out back through his backward, ignoring the calls.

“Bradley!”

Bradley walked in quick strides, hoping none of them would follow him outside as he cut through the neighborhood until he reached the beach, the salty air filling his lungs. His feet sank into the sand, seagulls crowed as they dove past him and Bradley finally felt a sense of peace in his body. 

Taking in a deep breath, he shut his eyes, only to see your face staring back at him, your hand shaking as you raised it to slap him across the face. Wincing, Bradley forced his eyes open again, the tension back in his shoulders. He had to apologize. Turning his back, he stared into the direction of his house, knowing that there was no way the others would let him go, so he had no other choice but to walk to Callie’s house. It was a two hours walk, minimum, but he could use the fresh air to find the right words. 

By the time he trudged up the walk-way to Callie’s house, it was dark, the sun had set about half an hour ago, right about the same time he got cold. Pressing the doorbell, Bradley rolled his shoulders back, confident that he had found the right words to apologize to you, when Callie opened the door. 

Fuck.

“You got some nerve coming here,” Callie bit at him, glaring. “You know damn well I can kick your ass, and don’t think I wouldn’t just because you’re Natasha’s best friend.”

“I don’t think that she would mind,” he admitted, his voice small. “Can I please talk to her?”

“Why? So you can break her heart all over again?”

Bradley’s heart sank and stuffed his hands in the pockets of his sweats. “I’m- I just want to apologize. Please. She doesn’t even have to talk to me, I don’t even have to see her, I can talk to her through the door, just- I need her to know that I’m sorry.”

Callie stared him down for at least a minute, before she stepped to the side to let him in. 

“If she doesn’t want to talk to you, you best believe I will kick your ass out of here,” she called after him as he headed inside, waving awkwardly at Billy and Neil who were sitting in the living room. Billy was unimpressed and Neil only sighed when Callie pointed him towards the first floor. 

“She’s upstairs, second bedroom to the right.”

“Thanks,” Bradley said meekly, walking up the stairs until he stood in front of the closed door. There were small sounds coming from the room and he knocked on the door gently, nervously. 

“I am not hungry, Callie,” you called from inside the room, your voice congested. Like you had been crying. Bradley contemplated turning on his heel to leave, not wanting to hurt you even more, but he breathed in deeply, before speaking. 

“It’s me.”

He heard you inhale sharply and he leaned his forehead against the door, closing his eyes.

“I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done what I did in the middle of the ceremony. I just- I thought I could be happy for you, see you off with Henry and maybe even have a few drinks with you, toasting to the new chapter of your life. But when I saw you up there with him. I couldn’t take it. I am not sorry about what I said, because I meant every word. But I am sorry for ruining your wedding and putting you on the spot like that. It was unfair and you didn’t deserve that,” Bradley said softly, sighing quietly. 

There was no reaction on the other side of the door and Bradley accepted that he had done all he could do. 

“I’m really sorry…” he added, before taking a step back, clearing his throat.

Suddenly, the door unlocked and he had an armful of you, beating against his chest with your hands. 

“Do you know how long it took for me to accept the fact that you weren’t going to marry me, Bradley? Ages, YEARS! I was completely heartbroken when we broke up and it took me so long to get back out there, telling myself that I would find someone. When Henry proposed to me, a tiny part of me thought that maybe you would come to your senses and tell me to call off the engagement. Hell, even in the bridal room, I kept thinking that maybe you were going to stop me, tell me that you loved me and that you wanted to marry me. You had so many chances, Bradley. I gave you so many opportunities to catch up with me, and when I finally closed the door on you, you chose the worst possible moment to kick it down screaming?”

The hits against his chest grew weaker and weaker, until you were just clawing at his shirt, breaking down against his body. Bradley wasn’t sure when he had started crying, but silent tears were running down his cheeks as he held you. For a while, the both of you just stood there in silence, both in tears until you pushed yourself out of his arms, wiping the tears from your face with the sleeves of your sweatshirt.  

Your eyes were rimmed red, and your skin was still glistening with tears, but to Bradley you have never looked more beautiful. 

“You stink,” you said and Bradley let out a water laugh, his chest rumbling. 

“Yeah, I walked here.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “From your house?”

“From my house.”

You hummed, biting on your lip. Bradley reached out to comb your messy hair back, his fingers getting tangled in the knots, before stroking his thumb over your cheek gently.

“Have you talked to Henry?”

You let out a humorless laugh. “Yeah. He lost it. Said that I embarrassed him in front of his entire family and friends. I think he’s still getting drunk at the venue with his boys. My dad almost got in a fist fight with him.”

Bradley smiled at the thought of your father, barely 5’5, trying to take on Henry, who was almost six feet tall. He noticed how you left out how things were between you and Henry, though Bradley didn’t let himself get his hopes up too much. 

“Is it too late?” he asked softly and your eyes found his, unshed tears on your lower lash line. “Am I too late?”

Sighing deeply, you dropped your gaze. “Do you want to get married?”

“I don’t. But I want to get married to you.”

Squawking, you gave him a shove and Bradley stumbled a few steps back, beaming at you. He knelt down in front of you and making you flush.

“Bradley, get up.”

“I am serious. I meant every word I said. If you’ll have me, I will marry the shit out of you. I will make you the best Mrs. Bradley Bradshaw,” Bradley said earnestly and you stared at him with wide eyes. 

“... Okay then.”

“Okay?” 

“Yeah. I mean, I’m not getting younger and my other engagement just fell through-”

Bradley gave you a look, but he nosed along your ring finger, pressing a soft kiss on your skin before standing up, lifting you up with him. You laughed and there were still dried streaks of tears on your cheeks, there were so many obstacles he had to overcome, but he’d take it all, if it meant having you in the end.

author's note: whoop. sorry. this got angstier than I intended. anyways, you know the drill. SHARE! COMMENT! REBLOG!!

[ashneedsmilk]

Viktor x Fem!Reader who creates the vibrator PT.1 NSFW

Contains: Masturbating, Awkward moments, getting caught

Y/n’s Journal

Day one of this experiment...

In all honesty, this has got to be one of the hardest (yet easiest) research to follow through on.

It was merely just a silly thought, one I had joked around but couldn't seem to get out of my head. Why? Cause apparently I'm a horny idiot who got turned on by the idea of overstimulation by a... toy of some sort.

Thank the academy for the locks on my lab door.. for I have not left this room for six days now, conducting, drafting, theorizing sheepishly.. the outcome this may result in.

Today I've fully started after about a week of creating a hairbrush-sized, battery-operated tool that vibrates at the edge.

I call it a 'Vibrator' :)

What will this do for the world? What impact will it have on it? Probably nothing...

but my mind is stumped on my previous project, I need... I need to relax...

Start clean on an easy project which will fuel the interest back in creating. I need inspiration.

Yep...

That's the reason for this project...

"Nghh.." you grunted, pen slipping from your hand and onto your journal. Your knees buckled, growing weak as you let your hands catch your twitching body against the floor, laying yourself down to catch a breath.

On your side, your hands were holding the vibrator to your clothed clit, willing to continue the experiment although you knew that your project had worked exceedingly...

What was the experiment again? You couldn't remember, but certainly, the vibrator was much more experienced at stimulating than your fingers were.

"Mmn! Fuck..." you hummed, trying to keep your growing orgasm undercover. Footsteps grew evident by your lab door and you already knew it was going to be Jayce, asking if you were still alive, if you were going to join him and Viktor in their lab later...

It had been a week since you've started this project and it had been a week since you've last seen them...

When the knock at your door came, you called out to shoo Jayce away, trying to sound as... stable as possible. "Jayce, not right n-now..." you irked, eyes shutting tightly as you continued to stimulate yourself, sweat dripping off the side of your head.

"It's Viktor! are you okay?" The accented voice was muffled through the doors, but you could recognize it from a mile away... Fuck, of course it just had to be your crush- right when you began testing...

"I-I'm fine! Please, I'm just working on something- mm!"

The door began rattling and you began cursing Viktor for his nosy personality. You didn't want him to see you in that state, but another part found itself even more turned on by the thought of getting caught by him. You began to wonder how his eyes would linger over your body, slowly analyzing the messy condition you were in. "Y/n, I'm coming in!" he informed, searching for the key to your lab. "Wait-" you tried to sit up, back slamming against your desk, the vibrator still held up against your clit.

The door banged open with a loud thump and you could've sworn Viktor left a hole in the wall where the doorknob was positioned. Upon entering, his eyes grew wide; a vibrating toy still going on the floor, your tired figure reaching to your journal as you wrote down notes to add easier, less rough levels to your little invention. The crimson button-up you had always worn was unbuttoned, showing off the black lace underwear you had on.

Viktor glanced around your desk, messy with tools and scraps of materials.. your skirt...

Turning the other way, he tried to give you some sort of privacy.. but a mirror conveniently stood where he could see your reflection. No matter his morals, Viktor could not look away. How could he? Tearing his eyes away? When his crush was undressed right behind him?

Sure Viktor felt shitty for offering you no respect to seeing your close to nude figure.. but his eyes just wouldn't turn away. He watched you stand up weakly, turning off whatever invention you had created and placing it on the table with a sigh. “Uh, I...” Viktor began, following your every move towards him. Finally, he closed his eyes, your presence closening.

He listened to the lab door shut, your footsteps reaching to stop in front of him. “Vik, come on I don’t bite” you scoffed and Viktor opened his eyes hesitantly. You stood inches away from him, button-up undone, laced bra and panties, messy hair... You didn’t miss the growing erection Viktor wasn’t very good at hiding, but you were generous enough to ignore it instead of pointing it out and replacing your embarrassment with his.

“I was running out of energy.. inspiration to continue creating, I needed to start fresh... on a project small and successful” you explained as you walked back to your desk, Viktor turned to follow you in silence, his attention was on the tool.. you made; listening to your words carefully. Each syllable rolled off your tongue delicately, no trace of shame hidden although he had literally caught you masturbating. Viktor had caught his crush masturbating.

“M-may I..?” Vik stammered. You turned to gaze at him, eyelids heavy from the edge of post-nut clarity. You nodded at him in return and he hesitantly picked up the brush-sized toy in his hands, analyzing its buttons and features. He then put it down to read the last pages of your journal, interest piqued at your way of bringing back inspiration. He had to admit it was clever... Starting a small project you knew was going to work? then successfully achieving your goal? It was a creative way of reminding yourself of the feeling of accomplishment. Sure, it may not bring a huge impact to the world, but it didn't have to...

“Interesting... and this works?” Viktor raised a brow, his previous embarrassment gradually withering into curiosity. “Um well, it was but I didn’t get to finish- ahem... testing...” you coughed, clearing your throat awkwardly as you hugged your arms in attempt to ignore the heat filling your cheeks. Viktor gaped at you, his golden eyes piercing and analyzing your features up close. You shivered as you watched him look you up and down, the vibrator in his hand.

“Shall we continue your testing then, Y/n?”

[felassan]

Dragon Age development insights and highlights from Bioware: Stories and Secrets from 25 Years of Game Development

Some really tasty factoids here.

Cut for length.

Dragon Age: Origins

The continent of Thedas was at one point going to be named Pelledia, a name initially floated by James Ohlen

“Qunari” was a temporary name that ended up unintentionally sticking, much like “Thedas”

Mary Kirby wrote the Landsmeet. To this day, nobody understands how it works, except possibly her. If she’s “really really drunk” she can explain how it works. There’s as many words in it as Sten’s entire conversations put together

Concept art for Thedosian art - as in in-world art - draws heavily on Renaissance-era portraiture, the Art Nouveau movement, religious styles and media like stained glass, and favorite pieces from the golden age of illustrations in the early 20th century

Andrastianism in-world (art-wise) is depicted in wildly different methods depending on who in-world made the art in question. “One religion, 3 different lenses”. There’s the Chantry take, the Orlesian take and the Fereldan take; each with its own different interpretations, different mediums and different stories

The stained glass images were drawn by Nick Thornborrow for DAI, to decorate religious spaces in that game “and beyond”

irl Viking art influenced Ferelden

Greek and Italian art influenced Orlais

The book also had other insights into and anecdotes from the development of DAO, but I’ve transcribed them recently as they’re essentially the stories DG has recently been relating on the awesome Summerfall Studios DAO playthrough Twitch streams. (On those streams he provides dev commentary while Liam Esler plays through DA. The ones with DG are currently once every two weeks. Check them out! Here’s a calendar where you can check when the next one is) Instead of repeating myself I’ll just provide the link to the first transcript. From there you can navigate to the subsequent parts. Note these streams are ongoing. At this point I will also point you to a related post which is cliff notes of the Dragon Age chapter in Jason Schreier’s book Blood Sweat and Pixels.

Dragon Age II

DAO had the longest development period in BioWare history. In contrast DA2 had the shortest

Initially DA2 was going to be an expansion to DAO. A few months in EA said “Yeah, expansions like these don’t sell very well, so let’s make it a sequel.” So it suddenly became DA2 and they had to make it even bigger, although they still only had 1.5 years of time in which to do this

Production of DA2 officially lasted only 9 months, and at the time the team was still supporting live content for DAO! They finished development that January after the design team crunched all the way through the holiday period that year. Then it went to cert 9 times

The limited time they had is why the story takes place mostly in and around 1 city, and over 7 years (so it was temporal, rather than over physical distance, because a more expansive world would have taken more irl time to make)

They had no time to review even the main plot. Mike Laidlaw pitched the idea of 3 stories taking place at different points in the PC’s life, tied together by Varric’s recollections of events. DG rolled with this and made 1 presentation on the idea. This presentation was then approved and off they went

As they were writing DG realized that there was going to be no oversight and that everything was going to be a ‘first draft’. “Because nobody had time.” He sat down with the writers and said “Look, here’s the conditions we’re working under. A lot of what we’re putting out is gonna be raw. We’re not going to get the editing we need. We’re not going to get the kind of iteration we need. So I’m going to trust you all to do your best work.”

Looking back, DG has mixed feelings on DA2. “A lot of corners were cut. The public perception was that it was smaller than DAO. That’s a sin on its own.”

Despite this he thinks DA2 has some of the best writing in the series, especially character-wise. The DA2 chars are his favorite

The pace with which production progressed may in some ways have helped. “When we do a lot of revision, we often file away [as in buff off] some of the good writing as well. Somehow DA2′s whirlwind process resulted in some really good writing”

The pace meant chars landed on the writers in various stages of completion. For example Isabela was fairly defined due to appearing in DAO. In contrast Varric at the start was just that single piece of widely-shown concept art

Varric was conceived as a storyteller not a fighter. His skills are talking and bullshitting. Hence the question became, so what does this guy do in combat? The direction was to make him as different as possible to Oghren, so not a warrior. He couldn’t be a dual-wielding rogue in order to differentiate him from Bela. But you can’t really picture this guy with a bow. “For a dwarf, it would probably be a crossbow. We didn’t have crossbows, or we only had crossbows for the darkspawn. And they were part of the models. We didn’t have a separate crossbow that was equip-able by the chars. They had to like, crop one off a darkspawn and remodel it. And that became Bianca” (quote: Mary Kirby)

“Dwarven mages are exceedingly rare.” [???]

If DAO was a classic fantasy painting, DA2 was a screenshot from a Kurosawa film or a northern Renaissance painting. (Here Matt Rhodes was commenting on art style)

John Epler: “In any one of our games, there’s a 95% chance that if you turn the camera away from what it’s looking at, you’ll see all kinds of janky stuff. The moment we know the camera is no longer facing someone, we no longer care what happens to them. We will teleport people around. We will jump people around. We will literally have someone walk off screen and then we will shift them 1000 meters down, because we’re fixing some bug.” John also talked about this camera stuff in a recent charity Twitch stream for Gamers For Groceries. There’s a writeup of that stream here

Designing Kirkwall pushed concept artists to the limits of visual storytelling, because it has a long history that they wanted to be present. It was once the hub of Tevinter’s slave empire, so it needed to look brutal and harsh, but it also then needed to feel reclaimed, evolved, and with elements of contemporary Free Marches culture

The initial plan was for DA titles to be distinguished by subtitles not numbers, so that each experience could stand on its own rather than feel like a sequel or continuation. (My note: New PCs in each entry make sense then when you consider this and other factoids we know like how DA is the story of the world not of any one PC). Later, DA2′s name was made DA2 in a bid to more clearly connect the game to its predecessor. For DAI they returned to the original naming convention. (My note: so I’d reckon they’d be continuing the subtitle naming convention for DA4)

DA2 was initially code-named “Nug Storm”, strictly internally

The Cancelled DA2 Expansion - Exalted March

This was a precursor to DAI

It was meant to bridge the gap between DA2 and DAI

It focused on the fallout from Kirkwall’s explosion, with Cory serving as the villain

Meredith’s red lyrium statue was basically going to infest Kirkwall and it would end up [with what would end up] the red templars taking over Kirkwall and essentially being Cory’s army

To stop him Hawke would have recruited various factions, including Bela’s Felicisima Armada and the Qunari at Estwatch, forcing Hawke to split loyalties and risk relationships in the process

It was meant to bring DA2′s story to an end and end in Varric’s death. DG was very happy with this because all of DA2 is Varric’s tale. The expansion was supposed to start at the moment Cassandra’s interrogation of him ended in the present. “And we finished off the story with Varric having this heroic death.” It tied things up and would have broken many fan hearts, something BioWare writers notoriously enjoy. But between a transition to the new Frostbite engine and the scope of DAI, the decision was made to cancel EM, work any hard-to-lose concepts into DAI, and in the process save Varric’s life. DG has talked about the Varric dying thing before

Concept art for EM explored new areas previously not depicted in the DA universe, with costumes that reflected next steps for familiar chars. Varric was going to war, what would he have worn? With Anders, if he survived DA2, the plan was to present a redeemed Warden

A char that vaguely resembled Sera in DAI was first concepted for EM. This fact was mentioned near this concept art (see the female elf) and this concept art of Bethany with the blond bob

The writers sketched out plans to end it with Hawke having the option to marry their LI. This included alternate ceremonies for party members like Bethany and Sebastian if the player opted not to wed. There was even a wedding dress made for Hawke. This asset made it into DAI (Sera and Cullen’s weddings in Trespasser). The dress can also be seen in DAI during an ambient NPC wedding after completing a chain of war table missions

The destruction of a Chantry was explored in concept art as it might have happened in EM. This idea ended up carrying over to the beginning of DAI. (My note: Lol, the idea that DA2 could have had 2 Chantries being destroyed in it 😆)

World of Thedas

Sheryl Chee and Mary Kirby started with “a disgusting little dish called fluffy mackerel pudding”. In the middle of DAO’s busy dev period one of them (they can’t remember who) found a recipe online for this, scanned in from a 70s cookbook. “I don’t understand why it was fluffy. Why would you want fluffy mackerel pudding?” MK says. “We loved it so much we included it in a DAO codex.”

This led them to create more food for Thedas, full recipes included, like a Fereldan turnip and barley stew from MK and SC’s Starkhaven fish and egg pie. The fish pie became Sebastian’s favorite. “To me it made sense for it to be fish pie because a lot of the Free Marches are on the coast”, SC says, “It was something that was popular in medieval times, so I thought, let’s make a fish pie! I looked at medieval recipes and I concocted a fish pie which I fed to my partner, and he was like ‘This is not terrible’”

For WoT the whole studio was asked to contribute family recipes which might have a place in Thedas. SC adapted these to fit in one Thedosian culture or another, including a beloved banana bread that localization producer Melanie Fleming would regularly bake to keep the DA team motivated. “Melanie’s banana bread got us through Inquisition”

DAI

It says part of DAI takes place in or near the border with Nevarra [???]

This game was aimed to be bigger than DA2 and even DAO in every conceivable way

The first hour had to do a lot of heavy lifting, tying together the events of DAO and DA2 while introducing a new PC, new followers etc in the aftermath of the big attack. DG rewrote it 7 times then Lukas Kristjanson did 2 more passes

DG: “Our problem is always that our endings are so important, but we leave them to last, when we have no time. I kept pushing on DAI: ‘Can we work on the ending now? Can we work on the ending now? Can we do it early on?’ Because I knew exactly what it was going to be. But despite the fact that it kept getting scheduled, whenever the schedule started falling behind, it kept getting pushed back... so, of course, it got left til last again.”

“The reveal of the story’s real antagonist, Solas, a follower until the end, when he betrayed the player”. “Solas’ story remains a main thread in Inquisition’s long-awaited follow-up” [these aren’t DG quotes, just bits of general text]

Over the course of development they had 8 full-time writers and 4 editors working on it. Other writers joined later to help wrangle what ended up being close to 1 million words of dialogue and unspoken text. While many teams moved to a more open concept style of work for DAI, the writers remained tucked away in their own room, a choice DG says was necessary, given how much they talked. All the talking had a purpose ofc as if someone hit a bump or wall in their writing they would open the problem up to the room

As writing on a project like DAI progresses, the writers grow punchier and weirder things make it into the game. This is especially the case towards the end of a project (they get tired, burned out)

Banter and codexes require less ‘buy-in’ (DG has talked about this concept a few times on the Twitch streams) from other designers. DG liked to leave banter for last as a reward because it was fun. Banter begins as lists of topics for 2 followers to discuss. These may progress over time or be one off exchanges. One banter script can balloon to well over 10k words. “The banter was always huge because we were always like, laughing, and really at that point, our fields of fucks were rather barren, so we would just do whatever”

The bog unicorn happened pretty much by accident. It was designed by Matt Rhodes and was one of his fav things to design. They needed horse variations and he had already designed an undead variant which was a bog mummy [bog body]. irl these are preserved in a much different way to traditional mummies. When someone dies in a bog their skin turns black and raisin-like. The examples we know of tend to have bright red hair for whatever reason. It’s a very striking look and MR wanted to do a horse version of this as he thought it’d be neat. 5 mins before the review meeting for it he had a big ‘Aha!’ moment, quickly looked up a rusty old Viking sword, and photoshopped it through its skull like that was how it died. “And I was like, ‘I just made a unicorn. Alright, in it goes!’” It got approved. “So we built the thing. It fit. It told a little story”

With the irl Inquisition longsword, one of the objects they tested its cleaving ability on was a plush version of Leliana’s nug Schmooples

The concept art team explored a wide variety of visuals for the Inquisitor’s signature mark. It needed to look powerful and raw but couldn’t look like a horrific wound. In some cases, as cool as the idea looked on paper, they just weren’t technically feasible, especially as they had to be able to fit on any number of different bodies

Bug report: “Endlessly spawning mounts! At one point during development, Inquisitors could summon a new horse every time they whistled, allowing them to amass a near infinite number of eager steeds that faithfully followed them across Thedas. “You could go charging across levels and they’d all gallop behind you,” Jen Cheverie says, “It was beautiful.” Trotting into town became an epic horse siege as a tidal wave of mounts enveloped the streets. Jen called it her Army of Ponies”

The giants came from DA Week, an internal period when devs can pursue different individual creative projects that in some way benefit DA. They also had a board game from one of these that they were going to put in but they didn’t have time. It’s referenced though. It was dwarven chess

Josie’s outfit is made of gold silk and patterned velvet, with leather at her waist. She carries “an ornate ledger” and she has “an ornamented collar sitting around her neck, finished by a brilliant red ruby, like a drop of Antivan wine in a sunbeam”

Iron Bull’s armor is leather. His loose pantaloons and leather boots give him agility to charge

On DAI in particular, concept artists took special care to make sure costumes would be realistic, at least in a practical ‘this obeys the laws of physics and textiles’ sense. “While on Inquisition, we thought about cosplay from a concept art perspective. Given how incredible a lot of [cosplays] are, I now am not worried about them. In fact in some cases in the future I want to throw them curveballs like, ‘All right, you clever bastards. Let’s see if you can do this!’”

2 geese that nested on the office building and had chicks were named Ganders and Arishonk (it wasn’t known who was the mom or the dad). Other possible names were Carver Honke, Bethany Honke, Urdnot Pecks, Quackwall, Cassandra Pentagoose, the Iron Bill, Shepbird, Garroose, Admiral Quackett, Scout Honking, HChick-47 and Darth Malgoose

Bug report: “The surprising adventures of Ser Noodles!” DAI was the first time the series had a mount feature, meaning this had a lot of bugs. A lot of the teams’ favorite bugs were to do with the mounts. There was a period of time where the Inquisitor’s horse seemed to lose all bone and muscle in its legs. They had a week or so where all quadruped legs were broken. It was a bit noticeable in things like nugs and other small beasties but the horse was insanely obvious. “The first time we summoned the horse [for this] and started running around, the entire QA exploration room just exploded with laughter.” Its legs flapped around like cooked fettucine, leading testers to lovingly nickname it Ser Noodles. At galloping speeds the legs almost looked like helicopter blades, especially when footage was set to classic pieces such as Wagner’s Flight of the Valkyries

For DAI the artists were asked questions like “What would Morrigan wear to a formal ball? Can Cassandra pull off a jaunty hat?”

On DAI storyboarding became the norm. John Epler: “Cinematic design for the longest time was the Wild West. It was ‘here’s a bunch of content, now do it however you want’, which resulted in some successes and some failures.” Storyboarding gave designers a consistent visual blueprint based on ideas from designers, writers and concept artists

Quote from a storyboard by Nick Thornborrow (the Inquisitor going into the party at the end of basegame sequence): “Until Corypheus revealed himself they could not see the single hand behind the chaos. A magister and a darkspawn combined. The ultimate evil. So evil. Eviler than puppy-killers and egg farts combined.”

A general note on concept art:

In the early stages of any project, before the concept artists are aware of any writing, they like to just draw what they think cool story moments could be. It’s not unusual for the team to then be inspired by these and fold them into the game as the project progresses

– From Bioware: Stories and Secrets from 25 Years of Game Development

[wwekayfabequeen]

Take Advantage | Randy Orton Story  (Part Two)

PART ONE

Randy Orton x OC (additionally with some very light Jeff Hardy x OC because that’s how I roll...)

Disclaimer:  This story is an AU of its own. The WWE history is pretty much the same, but the personal lives of the characters/superstars are fictional. Canon Characters are based on real people with an emphasis on kayfabe storylines. The events in this story are completely imagined and do not reflect true events.  

Warning: Mentions of alcohol and blurred lines from previous chapter carry over. Strong sexual encounters in this chapter. Rough sex, penetration, dominance, etc. 

Background/Recap: After a night of heavy drinking and blurred perspectives, (Y/N) finds herself in a situation she can’t help but wonder is more trouble than it may be worth.

Word Count: 2468

Author Note: Here is part two, after some requests for me to post it! I have part 3 drafted but it may take a little time for me to refine it. Until then, enjoy some Viper smut!

-----

The next morning, I woke up in my own hotel room, my head pounding. I sat up in bed, rubbing my face as the regret and humiliation began to sink in. I didn’t remember much from the night before, only bits and pieces. With a sigh I opened my eyes to see Jeff sleeping on the couch, still shirtless from the night before. My heart sank, remembering a blur of him basically carrying me back to my room. I looked down to see his shirt on me and began to remember everything else. Mostly remembering my steamy moment with Randy Orton. My stomach turned, whether from the alcohol or the humiliation, and I bolted to the bathroom.

After throwing up in the toilet, I decided on a long hot shower. I let the water run over me, washing away my guilt. Despite everything, I couldn’t get Randy out of my head. It annoyed me that I couldn’t stop thinking of how the moment felt. Even though I had been too drunk to have made any decisions, I still found myself wishing something would have happened. Part of me hated myself for it.  

After my shower, I combed my hair, brushed my teeth, and changed into sweatpants and a tank top. I closed my eyes, not wanting to face Jeff after the night before, not remembering what I said to him. I knew I couldn’t hide in that bathroom forever and had to face any embarrassment. I opened the door slowly, his shirt in hand. By now he was awake, still lounging on the couch as he was also feeling the hangover. I tossed his shirt to him.  

“Mornin” I mumbled. He nodded, sitting upright. He tapped the seat on the couch next to him, beckoning me to come sit. 

“You didn’t have to stay...” I said, walking over and taking a seat. My face was red from embarrassment. 

“I kinda did,” he laughed lightly, “you wouldn’t let me leave.” 

“Oh,” I said, hanging my head. “Sorry.” 

“Don’t be,” he said, nudging me. “I couldn’t leave you like that anyway.” His voice drifted off. He looked at me softly. Jeff was my best friend, I hated him seeing my vulnerable side. I hoped I didn’t jeopardize our friendship with anything I said, or did, but I couldn’t remember anything past crying in his arms.  

“I know I was a hot mess last night,” I said, avoiding eye contact. “I hope I didn’t make an ass of myself.” 

“(Y/N), hey, don’t worry about it,” he said. He was quiet for a moment. “...I’m just glad I caught you when I did.”  

I leaned down, my elbows on my knees and my face in my hands. “Oh God,” I mumbled. I knew he was talking about the entire Randy situation.  

“Look, I don’t know what happened, but I don’t the way he left like that and how upset you were.” His voice was blunt. I knew he, and probably everyone else at the party, had to assume that something happened. I could only imagine the way Matt was judging the situation.  “I just need to know you are okay.” 

“Jeff,” I said, looking over to him. “Nothing happened. It almost did... I think. But I don’t know, I was really drunk.” 

“I know you were,” he said. “I’m just glad you didn’t do anything you weren’t really into...”  

I scooted closer and leaned my head on his shoulder. “You’re too sweet to me, Jeff.” 

“I know,” he laughed, “I mean you started hitting on me when I got you back here.” 

“Oh God, no,” I said sitting up, completely red with humiliation, “I didn’t, did I?”  

“Just a little,” he admitted, putting an arm around me and pulling me back to where I was. “I know it was only the whiskey talking.” 

“I am so sorry, Jeff,” I whispered, still completely embarrassed, sitting up again, looking him in the eye.  

He shrugged with a smile. “It was kind of flattering, but I knew you didn’t mean it. It just wasn’t right... As tempting as it may have been,” he teased.  

“Oh, stop,” I laughed, playfully hitting him on the shoulder.  

“Look,” he said, “Matt saw you and Orton disappear last night. I’ll talk to him and tell him what happened, or what didn’t happen, I guess. Don’t worry about him, I’ll take care of that. You, get some caffeine and food, and I can check on you later. Okay?” 

“Jeff,” I said, biting my lip. “Thank you. For everything.” 

He gave me a wink before standing up and heading to the door. “I’ll always have your back.” 

I did as Jeff instructed and called for room service. Ordering a large coffee and a plate of French toast. There was no way I was leaving that hotel room; I couldn’t stand the thought of seeing anyone from the party... With the exception of one person. I knew it was complicated and wrong, but  The Viper invaded my thoughts. It was as though he awakened something in me that I didn’t know existed. Whether it was curiosity, or just lust, I was losing my mind overthinking it all. 

By mid-day, I was staring at my cellphone. I knew I had Randy’s number from coordinating training for him and Matt. I told myself not to do it, but I couldn’t help myself. I texted him a simple hey, stranger. 

I immediately regretted it, but my heart pounded, waiting to see if he would reply. What felt like hours was only a few minutes before my phone showed a message. Hey yourself. 

I froze, not sure what I was doing. So, I asked if we could talk. He replied with a simple sure. As I was contemplating what to say, a few minutes passed. I heard a knock at my door that stopped my heart. I was hoping it was Jeff, coming back to check on me.  

I looked through the peep hole and saw The Viper standing there in the hallway. My heart immediately sank to my feet. I wasn’t ready, I didn’t expect him to show up. I took a deep breath and opened the door. I must have looked like a deer in the headlights.  

“You wanted to talk?” He said, stepping into the room, acting as though he didn’t need an invitation. 

“About last night,” I said biting my lip. 

In only seconds, he aggressively shut the door and backed me against the wall. Without another word, his hands pinned mine to the wall and his lips crashed onto mine. I was in total shock, but moaned into his kiss. It was full of passion and what almost seemed like frustration. He broke the kiss, his intense eyes meeting mine.  

“Tell me to stop,” he said, his eyes searching mine.  

“No,” I whispered between heavy breaths, as I leaned up to kiss him again. I didn’t know what I was doing but I loved how it all felt.  

“Good,” he muttered into the kiss. His tongue slid into my mouth, immediately taking dominance. He let my arms go, only to pick me up. The next thing I knew he was throwing me onto the bed and taking off his shirt. I watched as he crawled over me. 

The way he looked so intimidating was incredibly sexy. I gasped as he pinned me to the bed, kissing me roughly. He used his knees to spread my legs, taking total control of the situation. I wanted this so badly in that moment. I moaned into the kiss, feeling Randy grin wolfishly. He perched up and began to undo his pants quickly, I reached for mine but he quickly stopped me. He wanted complete dominance, everything would be on his terms, and I liked that. I laid there, submissive as he removed his pants and pulled down my sweats. He wasted no time in returning to kiss me with that fiery passion once again, between kissed he was pulling off my tank top and unclasping my bra. 

My head was spinning and my heart was pounding, I couldn’t believe what was happening but wanted nothing else. I was lost in the moment and his kiss when I felt his rock-hard cock come crashing into my tight pussy. I cried out in surprise, jolting at the sudden sensation. With a smirk he moved to kiss my neck, thrusting deeply into me.  

“Fuck, baby, you’re so tight,” he said, biting at my neck. I moaned in complete ecstasy, not noticing the pain of the bite. I clenched through the pain until I finally adjusted to his size and length. “I’m going to fuck you harder than you’ve ever been fucked.” 

“Please,” I begged. His trusts were fast and hard, I began to cry out in pleasure, taking in every inch of him. Abruptly he pulled out and flipped me onto my stomach. Quickly and aggressively, he thrust into me again from behind. I screamed out as I felt his weight on my body. His hand reached around to hold me by the throat, tilting my head up so he could smother my neck with his rough kisses and sucking hard on my soft skin. His other hand buried itself under the front of me, finding my clit and playing with it. 

The entire bed was rocking and I knew the room next door undoubtedly heard our moans. My hips buckled as he found my sweet spot. I screamed loudly as my walls tightened with an orgasm surging through me. Randy’s cock pulsated inside me - I knew he was close too. Quickly he turned me over again, steadying his pace as he kissed my once again, moaning out loudly as he finally came. He collapsed on top of me, just as breathless as I was.  

“Holy shit,” I said, trying to find my breath. 

“I wanted you to remember it,” he said.  

After taking a minute to collect ourselves, I still couldn’t process what had just happened. Both Randy and I began to get dressed. I was searching for my words when all I could manage to say was that we shouldn’t tell Matt, earning a smirk from The Viper. 

“Don’t tell me you don’t think it could be a really good angle for our rivalry,” he said. “Just think of the crowd’s reaction if you turned heel like that.” 

“Are you ever not thinking about work?” I teased, slipping my top back on. Randy approached me, kissing me deeply. 

“Well, I wasn’t thinking about it when we were doing that.” He nodded towards the bed, causing me to blush.  

“Look, I’m really not looking fo-” I began but was cut off. 

“I’m not looking for anything either, this doesn’t have to mean anything if you don’t want it to,” he said, staring down at me. 

I nodded, smiling slightly. I didn’t know what it was between Orton and me, but I knew it was trouble. 

“That being said,” he said, his hands placed on my hips. “I’m not one to turn my back on a gorgeous woman completely.” 

I blushed, biting my lip. “So, casual sex?” 

“Whatever you want to call it, sweetheart,” he replied. He used one of his hands to tilt my chin to the side, admiring the hickey he left on my neck with a smug smirk. “When you need me, I’ll be around.” 

His charisma was irresistible, but I felt like there was a catch to all this. There always was with him, at work anyway. Then again, to be the best heel in the business, the lines had to blur somewhere into reality.  

He took his leave and left my room. I smiled to myself, loving the thrill of it all. I had never been a casual-sex kind of girl, but something about the idea was exhilarating to me. I freshened up before starting to pack up to head out of the hotel. After a while there was a knock at the door, I was suddenly hit with anxiety, knowing it was probably Jeff, or less likely Matt. 

I opened the door to see Jeff standing there with his duffle bag.  

Shit, I murmured before opening the door, trying to act as natural as possible. “Hey, Jeff.” 

“Hey, how ya holding up?” He said, walking in and dropping his bag on the floor.  

“Not bad, just packing,” I said, crossing my arms. He looked at me, noticing something that hadn’t caught his attention earlier. 

He stepped towards me, gently brushing my hair away from my neck, raising his eyebrow at me when he noticed the bruises from the bites and hickey that had been left there. His expression was stern. “That wasn’t there earlier, was it?” 

I quickly covered it back up with my hair again, blushing. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“You know you can tell me anything, (Y/N),” he said, taking another look at the hickey, more closely. “Jesus, were you mauled? That’s quite the mark he left on you...” He began to put it all together. “Who was it, anyway?” 

I knew he was suspicious; I knew he already probably knew the answer to his own question. I felt guilty, though I wasn’t entirely sure if it was because of my status as Matt’s manager, or because of the look Jeff was giving me and the way it made my heart drop. “Jeff...” 

“I can guess, if you’d like,” he said bitterly. “This really isn’t like you, (Y/N).” 

“I know,” I sighed, in defeat. “But it didn’t mean anything, it doesn’t mean anything.” 

Jeff sighed, grabbing me by the shoulders gently. “You’re an adult, you make your own decisions.” His tone was serious, “but I can’t see you get hurt, okay?” “Yeah, I know,” I said, looking down.  

“I care about you, but your business is your deal. Just don’t tell Matt, he’s still mad about that match last night and this definitely wouldn’t help.” He paused, looking me in the eyes. I noticed something in his stare that I didn’t really understand.  

“I know, Jeff...” “I just... Why him, (Y/N)?” He asked, his voice sounded almost hurt.  

“I really don’t know,” I said, looking down. I couldn’t look at him in the eyes. “It just sort of happened.” 

He looked taken aback, like he couldn’t understand. But then again, even I didn’t understand. Finally, he picked up his bag and shifted towards the door. “Well, we are still heading back to Cameron for a few days before the next show in Atlanta. Are you still going to stop by to talk business with Matt?” 

“Yeah,” I said, crossing my arms. “I’ll be there after I check in with my family back home. Probably Wednesday.”

“See ya then,” he said, before walking out the door. 

[1kook]

attachment: 1 image

— jjk x (f) reader

summary; But for Jungkook to initiate some sexting, nevertheless sexting at 1pm on a Saturday, when you were at work and you were almost positive he was supposed to be on stream right now? Unheard of, you had to mark this down somewhere. warnings; sexting, dick pics, dirty talk?, phone sex, vivid depictions of jungkook being just so sexy bc its true, rating; mature (18+) misc; mentions of youtuber kook 🥰, he’s just horny, stupid selfie trends (see here), he’s a little whiny but so hot v.v  wc; 4.6k 

notes; I've had this in my drafts since april 😐 n then i was like maybe we should actually finish this so i started n then last night i hit another follower milestone!!! so then i rlly forced myself to finish this bc i was so 🥺🖤👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 anyway enjoy lmk what u think its not proofread bc uhhhhh yeah 🤩

You’re at work when it happens.

It’s sometime between your usual listless thoughts of what to write for your weekly reflection papers for some course, and your trip to your store’s pharmacy to bother a coworker. Your phone vibrates in the pocket of your work apron. You’re normally pretty good at ignoring the sound, most of the times it’s just a classmate asking for help on homework or Jimin lamenting his love life, so you’ve grown used to ignoring the tiny vibrations, stocking a quarter shelf of different cooking oils before something in your brain tells you to check your phone.

You already know it’s not something grave, but that thought alone means nothing at the sight of the tiny jungkook♡ that appears at the very top of the list of notifications. Your boyfriend’s texts tended to be wildcards, never following a certain routine or alluding to any specifics. He could send you a long paragraph on how much he misses the scent of that one shampoo, the one you’d briefly run through last year because your usual brand was out of stock, with a ten point explanation on why you should switch back to it. Or two word, caveman sentences that drove you crazy because you never understood what exactly he wanted when he’d send those nondescript “munchies dip” texts.

You unlock your phone, clicking to the messenger app instead of directly on the notification. Hopefully the preview will give some warning on whether you should invest in this conversation or not. You hated the read receipts on messages, choosing to ghost conversations as you pleased, but Jungkook had wiggled his way into your phone one afternoon and specifically turned them on for his chat with you, and you’d never turned them off since. So he knows if you choose to ignore Attachment: 1 Image at 1:43pm exactly, and he'll pester you about it until you respond.

You contemplate it all for twenty seconds. It could be a variety of things, you guess, but the only way to find out is to actually see with your own eyes what he’s up to this time. He knows better than to distract you at work, is usually really good at waiting until your shift is over to spam you with messages. For him to send you something now, only a few hours into your shift, is uncharacteristic of him.

But you glance down the aisle anyway, taking note of some elderly woman you’d helped a few minutes prior and another teenager aimlessly walking around, probably looking for the snack aisle. You inhale and press down on your chat with Jungkook.

It takes you a moment to make out exactly what the image is, twisting and turning your phone around as you fight to see it without raising the brightness. It’s only when your eyes finally adjust to the dark screen, the faint beeping of the check-out registers fading into the distance, that you realize it’s a shot of the front of his sweatpants.

“Hm?” you murmur, getting brave enough to pinch the image between two fingers, zooming in until you’re able to decipher a multitude of details. For one, there’s a Flaming Hot Cheeto stain on the hem of his sweatpants, the same one you’d accidentally put on there a few weeks back and haven’t been able to wash out since. Then there’s that huge palm of his, tattoos and all, rested carefully against his thigh. It’s veiny and thick in all the right places, bringing all the attention to his knuckles, which you guess is what he was going for when you consider the centerpiece of the image—his hardened dick straining against the grey material.

There’s no text attached to the message, no snapchat font slapped over the image, so you wonder what exactly he wanted you to do with this information mid-shift. Well, realistically, you know exactly what he wants, but that doesn’t mean you won’t clown him before getting there. After all, Jungkook was seldom the naughty texter; sexting annoyed him, he would whine, because he would do all that and not even get to feel the true pleasure of sex, of being inside you. You’ve dabbled in it here and there, but it never went as perfectly as it did in pornos. He’d drop his phone and forget it, or you would straight up ignore the damn device as you went all in on yourself.

But for Jungkook to initiate some sexting, nevertheless sexting at 1pm on a Saturday, when you were at work and you were almost positive he was supposed to be on stream right now? Unheard of, you had to mark this down somewhere.

you what’s this about?

You decide to play it safe, because as exciting as the image of Jungkook at his computer chair, cock hard and angry at the thought of you, fluffy hair ruffled in that way you adored, jaw twitching and tightening as he touched himself, moaned deep and rough and just how you liked and—

As nice as that image was, for all you knew this vague message was Jungkook sending you a picture from a week ago to purposefully fuck with you at work.

jungkook♡ what time u get off? jungkook♡ miss you bad baby

Your stomach flips, and it takes everything in you to not squeal and bounce between the shelves like a toddler on a sugar rush. Here was your boyfriend, the cutest, sweetest boy, sending you dirty pictures of himself and telling you how much he needed you. Yes, YOU, not some random on the street, or someone else in a club, Jungkook needed pleasure and that pleasure could only come from you.

You glance back down the aisle again, checking your surroundings for the second time that day. You’ve been standing here, stock cart empty for a little over five minutes now, so it’s probably best to change location lest your manager come barking down your neck. You send one quick text before heading off for stock again.

you 4pm :(

Your phone dings again just as you’re leaving the stockroom, but you decide to check it once you get to the hygiene aisle you need to work on next. Still, the prospect of Jungkook having texted you has you walking with a skip in your step, one your coworker teases you about when you pass by her.

jungkook♡ fuck jungkook♡ tell me what panties youre wearing jungkook♡ please ?

You bite your lip, stopping yourself from smiling at the tone you’d picked up from his message. There was no doubt he’d been riled up for a while now, and you wonder if he sat through his usual Saturday morning streams with his cock hard, pushed against the edge of his desk like you knew he did when such things happened. The thought has you nearly fumbling with a bottle of aloe vera.

you seamless black thong you the one you bought me at the last vs sale

Briefly, you wonder if you should have lied and told him you were wearing that red lace set he’d given you last Valentine’s Day, the one he’d bought with his first big YouTube check. But the beauty of being in a relationship with someone like Jungkook is that you could have told him you were wearing grandma undies and he’d still think you were the most beautiful person to grace the planet.

jungkook♡ mm jungkook♡ tiny ones u ruined last time?

You set your phone down, speed stock a row of sunscreen like you’re on some shelf stocking national competition, before daring to text Jungkook again. Your cheeks are still warm, and your hand tightens dangerously around a bottle of shaving cream.

Before you can formulate some response, he’s sending another one in.

jungkook♡ u soaked those jungkook♡ came fast that day jungkook♡ want u so bad

Your cheeks burn, a little embarrassed that he remembers such details. As with all Victoria’s Secret panties, they were, like Jungkook said, extremely thin. You pause, shift your stance just barely, but you’re definitely wet. Not terribly so, but with this fabric, you’d start to notice it sooner than with others.

you mm you makin me wet bunny

It’s not a complete lie, but knowing Jungkook this is exactly what he needs to hear to get that competitive streak going. You shake your head to clear your thoughts, stocking another section of men’s shaving cream. It takes longer for him to message you back, and you wonder if he got off fine on his own. If it’s over now, at least he provided you with some distraction midway into your shift.

When he texts you again, you’ve almost completely convinced yourself he’s finished, so the Attachment: 1 Video that appears on your lock screen throws you for a loop.

It’s a short clip, no longer than ten seconds, but it has you scrambling to lower the volume on your device as some unsuspecting mother of two wanders past. You flash her your practiced smile, the same one you give all the store’s customers. Not like your boyfriend is jacking it off on your phone, shallow pants filtering out from the speakers.

You turn your phone over carefully after she leaves, try to at least pretend you’re still doing your job as you play the video again.

Sweats are gone, but boxers remain. Legs deliciously exposed, thick thighs with muscles that ripple when he moves. Shirt pulled up just slightly to showcase that broad expanse of tummy, cute belly button and defined abs that tighten with each glide of his palm over the outline of his cock. Your mouth fills with drool at the sight. He was so hot.

Your brain hasn’t even processed it yet, all your energy directed towards your clenched pussy, when he shoots another text.

jungkook♡ im so fckin hard jungkook♡ wanna kiss yuo every where baby jungkook♡ come ove r soon ??

Shutting your eyes and counting to ten doesn’t help ward off the sudden wave of horniness that consumes you, but it does remind you of the job you’re supposed to be doing now. You shake your head, as if the image of Jungkook’s dick throbbing beneath his boxers, low voice in your ear, will magically disappear. It doesn’t, and it plagues you even more when you begin stocking a section of sunscreen, numbly instructing yourself on what to do next. Shaving cream, sunscreen, lotion next, you repeat.

It doesn’t help.

Two minutes later and you’re scrambling for the phone you’d hastily tucked into your apron pocket, tapping your passcode in until your messages with Jungkook are pulled up again.

you after work you promise

Your head is absolutely spinning, the coil in your stomach too tight for you to try and be a functioning member of society. Something in you says to sneak off to the bathroom and call him, but your boss is a little bit of a prick when he wants to be, thinks you take too many bathroom breaks as is.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear. A curt call of your name has you whirling to face your shelves again, phone tightly pressed against your ribs like maybe it’ll melt into your skin and he won’t see it. At the same time, your sudden fright has you scrambling to turn it off, fingers sloppily pressing against the buttons, hitting the volume like seven times before you eventually feel the familiar click that signals it’s off.

Your boss disappears shortly after, and with his sudden appearance having made every hair on your body stand, you find yourself now slumping against your stock cart. Jesus, that man was a handful to deal with.

The paranoia sticks for a little bit, has you stocking shelf after shelf like a robot until you finish the entire row of hygiene products, back stiff from bending over so much. It’s only when you return to the stockroom ten minutes later that you dare take your phone out again.

A pleasant surprise awaits.

It would appear that during your haste to hide your phone from your boss— Jungkook’s scandalous messages and all —your frantic hands had done something else. A fuzzy picture on your end, a blurry display of lotion bottles you had stacked just before your boss’s impromptu appearance, with no words to accompany them. Normally Jungkook would have ignored that; you frequently sent accidental messages like this, butt texted him, he says.

But there’s something about Jungkook’s horny brain that makes him do stupid things, makes him blow up your phone with a series of question marks, call you four times, whine and fuss in your message thread, and eventually, send you probably the oddest image to date.

jungkook♡ ??? jungkook♡ ????what is that jungkook♡ baby please jungkook♡ I don’t get it ??

jungkook♡ Missed Call (4)

jungkook♡ baby jungkook♡ what does it mean jungkook♡ please ur drivign me insane jungkook♡ jsut wanna hear yuor voice jungkook♡ fuck please just

And then, there’s another one of those cursed Attachment: 1 Image messages.

You shouldn’t be as surprised as you are. You’ve been dating Jungkook for a few months now, know he had that sort of unique personality most college dropouts turned YouTubers do. But every now and then the absurdity of his actions makes you question him still, makes you wonder what exactly goes on in that pretty head of his to warrant such ideas, makes him balance a bottle of body lotion on the thick outline of his cock like this.

Unlike the first few images, this one was taken in front of a mirror. The blinding fluorescent light in his bathroom paints him in a stark color, has every inch of his pretty face on display for you. Rosy cheeks, dewy skin. Perfectly swollen cock straining beneath his grey boxers, curved up against his hip. Shirt pulled up, finally freeing that expanse of muscles on his abdomen, cute little belly button on display once again. The red material is pulled up to his mouth, pearly white teeth biting down on the fabric, and he’s got this flushed expression on his face.

But the real star of the show isn’t his chiseled abdomen or sexy expression, but the sheer hardness of his dick that lets him balance a bottle of body lotion over it, like a fuckin’ shelf or something. He’s so hard, dick so full beneath his boxers. So big too, the little boxers pulled taught around said engorged cock and thick thighs.

Your brain says to laugh, to tease him for being such a clown even when he’s horny as hell. He won’t take it to heart, will probably laugh along with you and you’ll add it to your still growing list of funny memories.

But your caveman libido says call him, so that’s what you do, ducking down behind a new shipment pallet with a squeak as the phone rings. It only lasts four seconds before he picks up, voice breathy and low, but it sounds so loud in the silence of the stockroom.

He doesn’t even let you get a greeting in. “You like my picture, baby?” he husks. It sounds like he’s right there, right beside you, speaking into your ear. Your pussy throbs at the way he sounds. Paired with the picture from before, it has your body tingling all over.

“What the fuck is that?” you hiss, trying to not let the sudden overflow of arousal leak into your words. Jungkook chuckles.

“What?” he huffs. There’s the brief sound of shuffling, the scratchy noise of his phone presumably being pressed against his shoulder. “I’m so hard, baby,” he sighs before you can pretend to reprimand him any further. “Fuck— you, can you just talk to me?” he groans, and the disgusting sound of him spitting into his palm fills your ear.

Your face feels warm, eyes nervously peering across the stockroom like your boss will suddenly appear now of all times to rip you from this important phone call. The anxiety and arousal mix weirdly, have your leg bouncing but every new movement sends a shock up your aching cunt to your chest, and then out to the tips of your fingers.

“You shouldn’t be doing that when I’m at work,” you murmur hurriedly, moving to nervously bite at your finger. Jungkook moans softly.

“Uh huh,” he says.

The air conditioning turns on and you nearly jump out of your own skin. “Kook,” you stress, frazzled by your own burning arousal and the fear of being caught. Like you said. Weird mix. “I— not when I can’t respond.”

He shudders on the line. “You’re responding now,” he points out. You hate when he’s right. Before you can defend yourself, define what a proper response is in this scenario, he’s beating you to the punch. “Baby,” he whimpers, voice so airy yet low, makes your eyes roll into the back of your head, back unconsciously arching. “Couldn’t stop— fuck.”

Your mouth feels dry, all and any form of lecturing fading from your thoughts as you become consumed in Jungkook’s little whines and whimpers. He talks smoothly, a modern day Casanova, and it’s certainly because of that cult-like harem he’s gathered on YouTube. Teenage girls who kiss his ass, tell him he’s cute and dreamy. Make his ego so big.

But then he gets horny and can barely contain that lisp you tease him about, shivers and melts when you put his cock in your mouth. “Couldn't what, bunny?” you mumble, voice drawn tight because now you were really horny, and it was all his fault.

The nickname makes him mewl prettily, your speaker suddenly going scratchy as he fumbles with his phone. “C- Couldn't stop thinking about you— your mouth,” he admits, and now you’re certain he’d sat through that Saturday morning stream like this. “T- Tits,” he adds, lisp slipping through. “Fuck.”

You bite your lip, eyes fluttering shut as you remind yourself now was not the time or place to get yourself off. But, well. That didn’t mean you couldn’t get him off. “Sat through your stream like this?” you murmur, circling your kneecap with a trembling finger as if it’ll ward away the raging lust in your abdomen. Jungkook confirms with a breathy moan. “Had all your little fans wondering why you ended so early.”

He groans. “No,” he chokes, voice hot from how much it wavers. “They— I lied,” he confesses out of nowhere, “s- said I had a doctor’s appointment.”

You muffle a giggle into your palm. “Naughty,” you tease. “Too hard to do your job.”

“Just,” he cuts off, voice feathery. He sounds so close and you haven’t even said anything of substantial value yet. “Tell me,” he says quietly, “what to— mmh, what to do.”

A smirk consumes your features. You try to hide it, but there’s no one here anyway so you’re left grinning at an unpacked box of dental floss like a madwoman. “Why?” you inquire playfully, bask in the sad little whimper he responds with. “Shouldn’t you know how to make yourself cum?”

Another groan of frustration, desperation seeping into his tone when he speaks again. “Baby, please,” he begs, and it feels good. Feels nice to have this big YouTuber begging for you like this, whimpering your name like his doesn’t appear on the top 25 most viewed. “Like when you— ah — when you tell me… what to do.”

Your body feels hot, thighs pressing together with each whimper that falls from his lips. “Okay,” you concede, and he audibly moans in relief. “Tip first,” you instruct softly, eyes defocusing as your brain slowly starts to manifest the image of Jungkook spread out on his bed. Thick thighs, grey boxers pulled taught around them, fat cock between his pretty hands, inked knuckles squeezing around his member. You swallow. You can tell exactly when Jungkook does as you say because another muffled moan fills the speaker. “One finger,” you remind him quickly, head spinning from the mere memory of his dick. “Run it… run it over the slit, bunny.”

“Nngh—“ Jungkook sputters. You can only imagine the face he’s making now, the bottom lip he’s bitten raw by now. He does it a lot; it’s a nervous habit. But as sexy as it looks when you’re in bed, you know he has sensitive lips because of it, bleeds easily if he’s too harsh. You have half the mind to remind him about it now, but then he’s hurriedly gasping out for more. “And, and then? Wha— what then, baby?”

He sounds so sweet, melodic voice dripping with honey. “Touch your balls,” you say a little breathlessly. “Don’t squeeze,” you add, “just roll your palm over them.” Your palm squeezes against your thigh, as if it’s remembering the feel of his body, the soft skin between his thighs when you’re down there. He gets so jittery, thick thighs nearly crushing you if you drag him along too much. “O- Other hand on your cock,” you stumble, thighs squeezed together. “Stroke yourself just like I do, bunny.”

Jungkook complies. “Just like you?” he mumbles, suddenly sounds farther away. As if he’s dropped his phone off to the side. “Fffuck,” he grunts, “m- mouth is so pretty.”

“Hm?” you inquire, so consumed with tampering down your growing arousal for a second that you miss his sentence.

Jungkook’s breath stutters, and for a moment you’re met with the wet squelch of his cock in his hand. And then, “pretty mouth… make me— make me wanna see you cry.”

You bite your lip. “Why,” you say tentatively, finally caving in with a hand fluttering over the front seam of your jeans. Not a question, more of a gentle nudge for him to spill his thoughts.

“Be- Because,” he cries, fucking into his hand. He sounds closer and closer. You have to wonder just how long he had been riled up. It’s been a while since his first message, he was probably desperate by now. “Y- You’re so nice,” he cries, and the sentiment, though oddly out of place, makes your heart squeeze with adoration for the boy on the line. “Wanna be,” he groans, “wanna be so fucking mean to you, baby.”

The sudden change of tone makes you choke on a moan, hand pressing against your mound like it’ll somehow penetrate the thick material of your jeans and give you the sensations you crave. As it stands, it’s a muted feeling you get instead. When your hands fail, his voice compensates. “Fffuck, don’t you— don’t you think about it too?”

Admittedly, no.

Jungkook had always been a gentleman in bed. Always cared for your needs before his own, went out of his way to make you feel pampered and adored during your most vulnerable moments. Contrary to what his online persona might say, he was a good boy. Sweetest boy you knew, touched you like you were made of glass.

So to suddenly learn of this dream— fantasy? kink? —of his that you would certainly enjoy equally as much, well. It made you whimper into your palm, eyes worriedly flickering toward the stockroom’s entrance.

“Why?” you whisper, feeling like a broken doll repeating the same phrase over and over again. You’re suddenly aware of how hot everything was. Your polo felt sticky against your spine, apron too tight, jeans too stuffy. How long had you been hiding in here for? You don’t even know. Hopefully your absence on the floor had gone unnoticed.

Jungkook pants into the line; everything sounds so sticky and wet on his end, hand undoubtedly working away at his cock. “Shit,” he curses, doesn’t really answer your question until you prod a second time. “I- I like it,” he stammers. “When you… fuck, when you look small.” He elaborates before you can even ask, breath heavy and drawn out. He was so close. “When your mouth… when it hurts,” he says, thoughts a scrambled mess. “Like when you— when you cry because my cock is— it’s too big for you.”

A blatant ego boost you’ll ignore for now. Not like you can focus on too many things right now anyway. “Your cock is big, bunny,” you agree softly instead. Your legs feel cramped from crouching so long, so you push yourself to your feet. Except then you’re made aware of how fucking wet you are, panties soaked from the phone call with your boyfriend. You shift and they stick to your folds, make you release a shaky exhale that Jungkook doesn’t miss.

“I— you’re wet,” he says boldly, and this time your meek confirmation isn’t a lie. Jungkook grunts. “Fuck, baby, I—“ cut off by his own whiny cry, probably bucking into his hand like a madman by now. “Wanna, wanna kiss you everywhere,” he says, a call back to his earlier message. Your legs feel like jello. You want him to kiss you everywhere too— lips, tits, cunt that is dripping for him now.

“I- I’ll be over soon,” you stammer, feeling like you’ll pass out if he carries on any further. He sounds so good on the line, soft pants, rough growls. You can’t possibly listen anymore, not when you’re so wet and horny in the middle of your shift. “Just,” you pause, can’t get the image of his pretty cock out of your mind. Every blink makes it more vivid, reminds you of the vein on the underside, the exact shade of the tip.

“What?” Jungkook hisses, voice higher than usual, parts of it lost under the rapid movements of his hand. “Tell me, baby, tell me what to do,” he begs hoarsely, “I’ll do it.” Sounds so desperate and needy, two seconds away from busting all over his hand.

You have to lean against the wall of the stockroom to ground yourself, remind yourself you’re not in the same situation as Jungkook and can’t cum in your pants like a teenager. “J- Just cum,” you choke, eyes fluttering shut.

He must’ve been waiting for that command, because the second the words leave your throat he’s filling the line with breathy groans and cries as he comes all over himself, probably ruins his t-shirt. The sounds have your hips unconsciously bucking forward into nothingness, the frustration of not being able to cum with him manifesting in the form of a tiny little sob. Luckily, he doesn’t catch it.

When it’s all said and done, he’s left panting into the receiver, flooding your speaker with breathy sighs that only make you more and more aroused.

“You’re terrible,” you frown, cheeks flushed, body tingling. You flip your wrist over and check the time; it’s been about sixteen minutes since you disappeared from outside. Sixteen minutes of listening to Jungkook touch himself and moan and whine and whimper. Tease you with new possibilities you had never considered before. And now he’s satisfied and you’re not.

Jungkook chuckles, low and tired. The sound shoots straight to your cunt. “Come over after you shift,” he says, as if you’re not planning to fake a severe case of the flu right now in order to get off early and run to his bed. You only had a little less than two hours of your shift left anyway. Not like they paid you well to begin with. Jungkook shifts, releases one of those saccharine groans as he probably snuggles into his bed, all sweaty and worn out. “Want you to fuck my face, baby.”

You frown, counting to ten to calm yourself down. Another few minutes of listless conversation, and you hang up. Your body feels featherlight, a little woozy as you make your way back out into the floor.

Nothing has changed. Customers pour in and out, your boss scolds you for a display you didn’t do, and life inside the store drags on. No one knows that you’re soaking your panties to hell and back, Jungkook’s soothing moans in your ear. Life goes on.

you shift ends in 20

jungkook♡ sweet jungkook♡ got your seat ready jungkook♡ Attachment: 1 Image

Copyright © 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[no-reply95]

Jealous Guys

Something I’ve been thinking about for a while now is the different ways jealousy manifested for John and Paul over the course of their friendship.

I’m going to look at John and Paul in turn and have a look at some of the key ways jealousy appeared, before, during and after the Beatles period. This will be a looooong post so if you want to go on deep dive keep reading below.

John

Jealousy was something that John acknowledged as a big part of his personality, as far as I’m aware, he only acknowledged his jealousy publicly in terms of his relationship with Yoko but I believe jealousy was a feature of all of John’s major relationships. John’s first real partnership was with Pete Shotton, his childhood best friend, and Pete has outlined how John’s jealousy and possessiveness was a feature in their friendship with them falling out when Pete first started showing interest in girls and with John acting out when Pete started to spend more time with other friends, instead of him, here Pete recounts John’s reflection on this period of their friendship:

“Years later John confessed to having felt acutely jealous throughout that interlude: “I was scared shitless I’d lost you after our fight in science class, when you starting playing with David Jones. I really thought I’d gone too far with you that time.“

Pete Shotton, John Lennon: In My Life , 1983

Pete’s recollections establish a pattern in John’s life of acting out due to a fear of abandonment and losing those who are closest to him so it’s not surprising that once John had formed a strong bond with Paul that would stir similar fears in him. 

Below I’ve categorised the groups of people that were the focus of John’s jealousy and have picked one person from each group as an example:

Family - Jim McCartney

Paul’s family was and continues to be a big part of his life. From the outset of their friendship, John was made aware of how important Jim was to Paul and vice versa. John and Paul had to skip school to hang out together because Jim wouldn’t have John in their house initially and John confessed his resentment of Jim’s influence over Paul’s life. It appears that after some time John grew tired of having to contend with Jim for the position of the most important person in Paul’s life, and this culminated in John giving Paul a pseudo ultimatum as John discussed in 1971:

“But Paul would always give in to his dad. His dad told him to get a job, he fucking dropped the group and started working on the fucking lorries, saying, "I need a steady career." We couldn't believe it… “So I told him on the phone, "Either come or you're out." So he had to make a decision between me and his dad then, and in the end he chose me”

St. Regis Hotel interview, Sept. 5, 1971

Friends - Mal Evans

Throughout the active years of the band it was typical of them to refer to each other as their best friends and, given the lives they led, I think the simple fact that no one else could understand what it was like to be a Beatle would have meant they all shared a special bond. However, they all had friendships outside of the band and this was something that could cause issues for John when it came to Paul.

According to Tune In, Mal initially became friends with Paul during the band's initial shows at the Cavern Club then, after a suggestion from George, Mal became a part of the Beatles entourage thereafter. Mal had friendships with all the Beatles, as part of their inner circle, but from his comments it appears John took umbrage with the closeness of Mal’s friendship with Paul:

“Paul would suddenly come in with this circle saying, “This is Magical Mystery Tour, will you write that bit?” And I was choked that he’d arranged it all with Mal anyway, for a kickoff, and had all this idea going”

St. Regis Hotel interview, Sept. 5, 1971

Mal also comes up when John discusses his recollections of the writing of Eleanor Rigby:

“So rather than ask me, “John, do these lyrics—” Because by that period, he didn’t want to say that – to me. Okay? So what he would say was, “Hey, you guys, finish off the lyrics,”... “ Now, I sat there with Mal Evans, a road manager who was a telephone installer, and Neil Aspinall, who was a not-completed student accountant who became our road manager. And I was insulted and hurt that he’d thrown it out in the air”...” There might be a version that they contributed, but there isn’t a line in there that they put in.“

Playboy interview, David Sheff 1980

John’s discomfort with the closeness of Paul’s relationship with Mal was something that wasn’t lost on Mal’s wife Lil:

“He was always at their beck and call. He was a nice fella to have around, so much so that it could provoke little jealousies within the band. When I met Yoko years after Mal died, she said John had told her he’d been very jealous at one point of Mal’s relationship with Paul.”

Lil Evans interview with Ray Connolly, 2005

Love interests - Linda McCartney

Throughout their friendship both John and Paul had quite a few love interests, which (to varying degrees) prompted jealousy between them.

Although John displayed jealousy of a few of Paul’s love interests this was no more apparent than with Paul’s first wife Linda McCartney, which is confirmed by both John’s words and actions regarding Linda and her partnership with Paul:

“"Then Klein informed Lennon that McCartney had secretly been increasing his stake in Northern Songs. ‘John flew into a rage,’ recalled Apple executive Peter Brown. ‘At one point I thought he was really going to hit Paul, but he managed to calm himself down.’ One unconfirmed report of this meeting had Lennon leaping towards Linda McCartney, his fists raised in her face"

Peter Doggett, You Never Give Me Your Money

"Int: When did you first meet her [Linda]? John: The first time I saw her was after that press conference to announce Apple in America. We were just going back to the airport and she was in the car with us. I didn't think she was particularly attractive, I wondered what he was bothering having her in the car for. A bit too tweedy, you know. But she sat in the car and took photographs and that was it. And the next minute she's married him."

St. Regis Hotel interview, Sept. 5, 1971

“I was reading your letter and wondering what middle aged cranky Beatle fan wrote it... "What the hell—it’s Linda! . . . Linda— if you don’t care what I say—shut up!—let Paul write—or whatever.”

"Of course, the money angle is important—to all of us—especially after all the petty shit that came from your insane family/in laws—and GOD HELP YOU OUT, PAUL—see you in two years—I reckon you’ll be out then"

Draft letter from John Lennon to Linda McCartney, circa 1971

"The presumption is a) the Beatles would get together again or are even thinking about it and b) if they got together, John and Yoko split, Paul and Linda split"

John (with Yoko) talks to John Fielding on Weekend World, 1973

"John often speculated on why Paul and Linda remained married while, at the same time, resenting their evident happiness, to the extent that he had Green do a tarot reading to ensure him that Paul and Linda were really secretly miserable and were going to divorce within a year"

According to Fred Seaman and John Green, source

Paul

Of course jealousy wasn't a one-way street in the Lennon-McCartney relationship. Unlike with John, for Paul I'm focusing more on the key people I believe his jealousy, regarding John, was directed to:

Stuart Sutcliffe

John met Stu at Art College and struck up a really close friendship with him. At the point that John met Stu, John had already become friends with Paul so Paul felt threatened when Stu entered the picture:

"When he [Stu] came into the band, around Christmas of 1959, we were a little jealous of him; it was something I didn’t deal with very well. We were always slightly jealous of John’s other friendships.

When Stuart came in, it felt as if he was taking the position away from George and me. We had to take a bit of a back seat."

Paul McCartney, Anthology 2000

"Paul was saying something about Stu’s girl – he was jealous because she was a great girl, and Stu hit him, on stage. And Stu wasn’t a violent guy at all."

John Lennon, 1967 Anthology 2000

"I looked up to Stu. I depended on him to tell me the truth. Stu would tell me if something was good and I’d believe him. We were awful to him sometimes. Especially Paul, always picking on him. I used to explain afterwards that we didn’t dislike him, really."

John Lennon, The Beatles Hunter Davies 1968

Yoko Ono

Of all the relationships I've already discussed, the relationship and jealousy displayed from Paul towards Yoko is probably the most widely discussed in Beatles historiography and general discourse. From the official start of Yoko's relationship with John in 1968 it was clear that Paul resented her presence in John's life and her proximity to the band:

"He even sent them [John and Yoko] a hate letter once, unsigned, typed. I brought it in with the morning mail. Paul put most of his fan mail in a big basket and let it sit for weeks, but John and Yoko opened every piece. When they got to the anonymous note, they looked puzzled, looking at each other with genuine pain in their eyes. ‘You and your Jap tart think you’re hot shit’, it said."

Francie Schwartz, Body Count 1972

"Cause she’s [Yoko] very much to do with it from John’s angle, that’s the thing, you know. And I – the thing is that I – there’s— Again, like, there’s always only two answers. One is to fight it, and fight her, and try and get The Beatles back to four people without Yoko, and sort of ask her to sit down at the board meetings. Or else, the other thing is to just realize that she’s there, you know. And he’s not gonna sort of – split with her, just for our sakes."

Paul McCartney, Let It Be Sessions, 1969

"I told John on the phone the other day that at the beginning of last year I was annoyed with him. I was jealous because of Yoko, and afraid about the break-up of a great musical partnership. It’s taken me a year to realise that they were in love. Just like Linda and me."

Paul McCartney, interview with Ray Connolly, 1970

What are the similarities and differences in the way jealousy manifested for John and Paul?

I think it's obvious but bears repeating that both John and Paul displayed jealousy towards other people who they felt would threaten their relationship so that's central to all the instances I have flagged, Jim, Mal, Linda, Stu, Yoko all posed real or imagined threats to John and Paul's partnership.

However, you'll note that I included more sources to display John's jealousy regarding Paul and that I categorised John's jealousy targets whereas I only pulled out two key individuals for Paul, this isn't to say that John was more jealous than Paul was, as jealousy isn't something you can quantify, but to highlight my opinion that Paul's jealousy regarding John was more targeted than John's jealousy regarding Paul. I think what stands out to me is that, I think generally Stu and Yoko are held up as the prime examples of Paul's jealousy of other people getting close to John, as far as we know, Paul never had significant issues with other people who formed close relationships with John like Pete Shotton, Cynthia Lennon, Magic Alex etc., why was that? I think that Paul was more threatened when he felt that John was replacing him so by bringing Stu into the band (even though he wasn't a musician) and Yoko into the studio (one instance where Paul was especially hurt was when John gave Paul's line in The Continuing Story of Bungalow Bill to Yoko to sing), Paul perhaps felt that his place as John's primary collaborator was in jeopardy and that he could lose a partnership that had become central to his self-worth as a person - that, I believe, was when his jealousy was most likely to rise to the fore. John, on the other hand, had a much wider range of targets when it came to jealousy regarding Paul, why was John jealous of Linda? Linda wasn't trying to replace John as Paul's collaborator, if anything she wanted the Lennon-McCartney partnership to be stronger. Why was John jealous of Mal? Mal wasn't a musician, Mal was a huge fan of the band and constantly worked to fulfil their requests, so why was John so threatened by his friendship with Paul? For me, John's jealousy regarding Paul was more than just a fear of directly being replaced, I believe John's jealousy was fundamentally triggered by a fear of abandonment. I think the childhood trauma John experienced, of being left by both his parents, meant that whenever any of his close friendships and relationships were threatened, or he felt that someone close to him may leave him, he would act out. John fell out with his childhood best friend Pete when he got a girlfriend, John hit Cynthia when he saw her dancing with Stu, John was rude to several of Paul's love interests and ultimately John never fully accepted Paul's relationship with Linda because, although he could see that she could offer Paul the family life he always wanted, John didn't want Linda to take Paul away and give him a family that meant that Paul would no longer be able to prioritise John in his life as he had in the past.

Ultimately, we'll never know all the ways that jealousy factored into John and Paul's relationship with each other and those around them, as I'm sure it impacted several relationships in more complex ways than I can articulate (i.e. I suspect jealousy played a part in Paul's initial resentment of Brian but they grew closer over time so maybe Paul's jealousy lessened over time or Brian became less of a threat?). I do think it's important to consider that jealousy was present on both sides and was likely a factor in the breakdown of John and Paul's relationship, the breakdown of the Beatles and was a continued factor in disrupting reconciliations between John and Paul into the 70s and 1980.