#i mean. ‘he’s actually just so arrogant that he thought he could break the laws of physics’ doesn’t make any sense

[thereareeyesinsidethetrees]

last post for the night i swear

the real tragic part about the whole science fair incident is that perpetual motion is impossible to achieve

ford’s machine would have never worked, regardless of whether or not stan had interacted with it

(warning i accidentally wrote an approximately 30-tag dive into ford’s character in the tags don’t click see more if you don’t want to read that)

anyway!! good night everyone ❤️‍🩹

#it’s also tragic because ford didn’t know #the impossibility of perpetual motion was discovered far before that point and yet he didn’t know #i mean. ‘he’s actually just so arrogant that he thought he could break the laws of physics’ doesn’t make any sense #his reaction to the situation really didn’t match that interpretation as far as i can tell #i don’t think it’s just a ‘oh no! my dream school (that i was essentially shoved into pursuing)!’ type deal #here’s what i’m thinking: #fact one- stan and ford were seemingly already drifting apart by this point in time. this is important to note #fact two- it’s really emphasized to him that he’s smart. that’s all they say about him really- that’s he’s a genius #fact three- filbrick does not even care enough about stanford to say his name. he calls ford his ‘ticket out of this dump’ #these last two points were likely heavily emphasized to him throughout his childhood #filbrick found out ford was smart and thought stan wasn’t. so ford became his plan to make money #ford is heavily bullied for his weirdness. his hands and his interests. being smart could ‘make up’ for this in his mind #he wants to leave. he outright states this- he doesn’t feel like he belongs and he wants to go somewhere he does (his own bermuda triangle) #so what essentially happened- i believe- is that ford internalized all these things #that his weirdness is bad and that he makes up for it by being smart and that he’s meant to make his family money- #-and that he wants out #his machine fails. this is a slap in the face to him. perpetual motion is impossible? #but why didn’t he know that? he’s supposed to be smart isn’t he? if he isn’t smart then what the hell is he? #what redeeming qualities does he have? how is he supposed to help his family now? he’s a failure isn’t he? #he spots a familiar bag. stan was here. suddenly he has an excuse- a reason to believe it wasn’t his fault #(and there’s really nothing to be at fault for but he doesn’t think that) #it’s easier to blame it on stan because of how distant they’ve grown. he can’t read stan as easily #and his reaction is suspicious- did he actually sabotage the project? is it…actually not ford’s fault at all? #they don’t speak to each other again for another decade #stan because he’s afraid of rejection #ford because he doesn’t want to face his own insecurities and emotions about everything #it’s easier to pretend that he wants to be famous and isn’t just doing it to make it his father money #and it’s easier to distract himself with things he loves than to feel all the guilt and hurt and frustration #and that. is perfect for bill to use to manipulate him #that’s my thoughts anyway. sorry for the rant was not expecting that to happen

[bebx]

So I'm not in the Harrow fandom but like, what would happen if he met Henry (or Eddie because I'm biased w my boys) or Jack?

Harrow is a crime show from what I can tell?

Just curious what your thoughts are.

*for my other moots and followers, this is about Henry Creel from Stranger Things, not Henry Morgan from Forever (though I love both Henry’s very dearly).

okay, a little background for my beloved Doctor Daniel Harrow (played by the one and only Ioan Gruffudd)

Doctor Harrow is the main protagonist of a series called Harrow, and he’s a talented pathologist who’s… well, highly stubborn, so he doesn’t follow the rules and always does things his own way. he can be reckless and arrogant, some people call him selfish (also a pain in the ass) but in a good way, and he’s a good person. (he’s also extremely gorgeous it’s insane.)

so basically in the show, we often see Harrow conduct an autopsy to determine the cause of each body’s death. except that sometimes (most of the times) Harrow does more than his job description says, and goes out of his way to investigate things by himself if he suspects a foul play was involved. and he’s always right and basically he’s the one who solves crimes with his stubbornness and recklessness and also his talent.

I love this show so so very much. it’s so very good, one of the best shows I’ve ever watched, and it means so much to me (and I need a season 4).

now back to your ask! I call it a sign because a crossover between Harrow and Henry Creel is actually something I’d been thinking about writing for like a couple of months now. then I got your ask and I was like ‘now this is a sign. I really have to write it into existence!’.

so here it is: a modern age AU Stranger Things where Henry and Harrow met!

anyway, I think, if we’re talking about canon Stranger Things, I think Harrow would never be okay with Henry’s actions, what he did (the massacre, which, for the sake of the plot, never happened in the crossover fic I wrote). he would never condone the abuse Henry went through, but that didn’t mean he’d think the massacre Henry committed in canon could ever be justified.

I mean… I don’t know, that didn’t mean Harrow wouldn’t understand either (understanding something =/= condoning or justifying something). because, in the series, Harrow himself also had his own dark secrets that he had to hide. so I think… Harrow would understand why young Henry felt the need to kill his parents. but adult Henry who murdered those kids in canon? yeah, I think that would be another story.

from how I see it, if Harrow could, he would have done anything and everything to stop adult Henry from hurting innocent people. that meant either he or Henry would end up dead, because Henry would have to kill him first if he wanted to go ahead and hurt those innocent people.

however, Harrow also had the tendency to do anything and everything to protect the people that he loved. so I think it would depend on who Henry was to Harrow. if Henry wasn’t a friend, then I think Harrow would stop at nothing until he stopped Henry (and yes, that meant either Henry killed him or he killed Henry). but if they were friends, then I think that would be where things got complicated. because while, in canon, Harrow used to break laws to protect people he cared about, what adult Henry did was still something I really don’t think Harrow could ever accept or condone. so, even if they were friends, I think Harrow would still do anything in his power to stop Henry. he would hope he could stop him by putting him behind bars so that Henry was at least alive and so that Harrow could try to help him walk the right path, but if his hands were tied and if stopping Henry meant killing Henry, I think Harrow would probably go with it still, only because he didn’t have any other choice. and then he’d probably blame himself, thinking maybe if he’d done something differently he could have saved Henry. but basically Harrow would end up with yet another lifelong trauma.

(good thing is that the angst isn’t this severe in that crossover fic I wrote, so don’t worry, they’re both okay there!)

moving on to Eddie Munson. if Harrow met Eddie, oh I think that would be interesting and nope, it wouldn’t be anywhere as angsty as his meeting with Henry, that was for sure.

I think Harrow would see Eddie as a son, and Eddie would see Harrow as a father figure of sorts, a role model even.

in the show, Harrow did (almost) have a troubled son whom he looked after. I think if he met Eddie and if Eddie had a rough childhood, was somewhat troubled, then Harrow would step in and look after him.

As for Jack Sparrow, I think these two would probably find each other annoying at first. But after some rum, I believe they would be some sorts of a chaotic duo who caused shenanigans together.

Harrow and Jack are actually alike in several ways in my opinion: both are stubborn, reckless and Harrow sure can be mischievous.

so yes, him and Jack together would be hella fun.

#my inbox is open #ioan gruffudd #daniel harrow #jamie campbell bower #henry creel #stranger things #vecna #jamie bower #harrow tv #harrow series #dr daniel harrow #stranger things 001 #st #001 stranger things #001 st #peter ballard #st 001 #stranger things vecna #JCB #vecna stranger things #vecna st #st vecna

[francostrider]

Tales of Arise: Padding and Minimal Localization

So, from a technical stand point, Tales of Arise certainly plays better than Vesperia. The combat is much easier to come to grips with, while still maintaining the challenge. There’s a lot of weight to the finishing moves and the big limit breaks are flashy without taking five years to get through. The environments are pretty and the character models are great. No one dresses like a stripper maid and the monsters look and animate well.

But let’s address the elephant in the room that is the title of this passage.

On a broad, surface level, I like the high concepts of each character. Again, they have a lot of appeal and the broad storyline (I’m near the end, not at the end) is compelling. But everytime I hear someone say how great the voice acting and writing is, I’m sitting there wondering “Well, where is it?” Especially after Tales of Vesperia, the writing in Arise is a complete let down. It’s padded, heavy handed and repeating to the point of a broken record sometimes.

Character A: I, uh... Character B: Something wrong? A: It’s... It’s nothing. B: Well, remember, we’re all in this together! C: No matter what happens, we’ll get through this!

That is literally 60% of the dialogue. You could have cut most of that out and lost nothing. Every other scene tries to swell with emotion, but you need troughs alongside your peaks. You need light moments of levity, small moments.

And when this game tries to have levity, that falls flat, too. See a good written character has the various traits interweave with each other. Take Sain from Fire Emblem [The One With Eliwood]. He’s an arrogant pretty boy who loves the legends of knights, and wants to reach all the glory and women that it comes with. His womanizing, glory seeking and combativeness all naturally gell with each other. His fellow knight, Kent, wants to be a knight for the sake of duty and altruistic reasons. My point is these are two characters who function in combat in very similar ways, but stem from very different reasons and motivations, which make sense.

Then we have, in the same game, Florina. She’s supposed to be meek and nervous around men. In her opening cutscene, she could not defend herself to save her life. But then during her opening mission, she is stabbing the living hell out of bandits without a second thought. But then, THEN, she tries to apologize to the bandit leader (who wanted to enslave her, I might add), before stabbing him again. This characterization makes no sense at all. This is what I mean by character traits being slapped together with very little thought. That isn’t a character; that’s a pile of tropes.

Law seems to be good place to start. So, at first, he is part of a secret police, basically forced into the position by the authorities and that forms a bit of a wedge between him and his dad. And his story is one of the more compelling ones. And then you recruit him. Suddenly, he’s a meat obsessed jock and his moments of levity always feel jarring. His old character comes out here and there, stopping Rimwell from being a suicidal nutcase, but he is otherwise rendered to dumb jock, not the trouble teen he was portrayed as earlier. And being an idiot doesn’t make a whole lot of sense either, being a bit of a survivalist under an oppessive regime. It’s like the writers just decided “You meat head now”, rather than a former villain.

Now, you could have former gestapo/meathead/carnivore/jock work. But the characters have a way of switching modes rather than flow seamlessly from one trait to another. Kisara goes from suspicious guard mode to team mom mode. Alphen goes from angry revolutionary mode, to saintly mode, to obsessed with spicy food mode. Shionne’s big-eater trait, something she is embarassed about, probably could have been removed entirely because it has nothing to do with her growth as a character.

Actually, lets be fair and point out the highlights. Rimwell is moreorless fine, and Dohalim actually has some insight. And I will be fair in that the characters have little to talk about due to culture (in universe) being basically erased. 

A big part of it is a mix of minimum quality localization and weird voice direction. Again, Vesperia is a stark contrast. They did a lot of work for that game. They clearly sat down and figured out how to translate it for a western audience. But I’ve noticed characters in Arise taking a offense out of the blue and sudden outbursts by Alphen, shouting at fellow protagonist Shionne of how “NO! YOU DO CARE! ADMIT YOU CARE DAMN IT!” And the reaction between me and my wife was less “Oh, no, he’s dangerous” and more “That was a bizarre take.” It’s become a regular phrase while playing the game that a character is “having an anime.” It starts to become obnoxiously stereotypical. This really could have used another pass.

“Well you just don’t get anime/jrpg tropes,” I’ve seen people say. “It’s a game about star ships and flaming swords, what do you want?”

What kind of excuse is that? Tales of Vesperia, Dragon Quest 8, Ys 8, Chrono Trigger, Final Fantasy 7 (original), and most Fire Emblem games just do not succumb to that. They are well written to the point of transcending cultural differences. No anime/sci-fi/fantasy trope should get in the way of people sounding like people. And in the little dialogue moments, the cast of Arise doesn’t. This doesn’t have to be revolutionary, it just has to sound natural. When you use the excuse of “You just don’t get anime”, you might as well excuse a bad comedy that uses more references than jokes. I shouldn’t have to have read libraries full of fantasy novels before enjoying Codex Alera and I shouldn’t have to read the entire Shonenjump catalogue to enjoy an anime game. The above catalogue of games I mentioned stood on their own.

Sidenote: If a work is a specific deconstruction on a genre, then, yes, indulging on said genre would help. Tales of Arise, however, is not an apparent deconstruction on anime, so my point still stands.

Where does the narrative shine in Arise? More or less at the bigger moments and cutscenes. The visuals do a lot of heavy lifting to keep me engaged. Again, you can skip the optional “Press R1 for cutscenes” and lose nothing. But that’s not exactly a compliment. I looked forward to the shenanigans from the cast of Vesperia. They were funny, charming and had strong voice work. There are just no shenanigans to be had with Arise. Most of the optional dialogue either just repeats what had been said, state what could have been extrapolated, or tries in vain to have humor.

I’m coming to the end of the game (probably) and some big reveals just dropped. While I’m enjoying the gameplay just fine, I don’t feel all that invested in the characters. And that is a real shame because I wanted to be. But the constant barrage of repeating character beats and awkward deliveries have just worn me down. And when the characters do not reach you, it can suck the energy out of even the most swelling anime speech.

Edit: Still not nearly as demoralizing as Fire Emblem Fates.

#Tales of arise #tales of vesperia #Dragon quest VIII #Fire emblem #JRPG #anime #ys 8 #ys #Final fantasy 7

[aeoki]

SS Finals - Crown: Chapter 19

Location: SS Finals Live Stage Characters: Tetora, Subaru, Hokuto, Chiaki, Madara, Hiiro, Aira & Rinne

Rinne: “Gyahahahaha ☆ Hello everyone watching from home! Look, it’s your childhood bestie, who’s still being an idol, Rinne Amagi!”

“Are ya enjoying this year’s ‘SS’? No? Alright, then!”

“But of course ya ain’t! There’s someone out there who’s trying to ruin the biggest festival in the idol industry – ‘SS’! They’re the root of all evil!”

“No one’s gonna be able to greet the New Year with a smile unless he’s outta the picture!”

Madara: …What are you trying to do?

Chiaki: Umm, Amagi-senpa–

Rinne: “Shut ya trap, Bastard-Who-Delivers-a-Deadly-Blow-For-a-Job! You’re supposed to be on the side of justice! Takes one to know one – it ain’t ya turn right now!”

Chiaki: Uh, it is our turn, though.

Tetora: …Are you saying “Crazy:B” will represent the “White Team” instead of “Double Face” for the fourth round?

Madara: Uh, I haven’t heard anything about that, so I can’t just say yes.

Rinne: “I ain’t listening to what ya gotta say!”

“But yeah, how about we put your battle on hold and let me take the stage? That’s what I thought about doing…”

“But the people watching would just find that boring, huh.”

“It’s supposed to be an enjoyable and noisy festival – it won’t be fun just watching me having a grand old time, right?”

“Let’s switch things up. Hey, “Double Face”, could ya let me be in the fourth round instead?”

Madara: Hm? I’m not exactly willing to accept the request of someone whose intentions are unclear. Besides, that would mean going against what’s written in the “oracle”.

The representative for the fourth round is us, “Double Face”. That’s what the “oracle” said, right?

Rinne: “Then gimme that ‘oracle’! I’ll cross it out and write something new on top of it!”

“It’s not like the ‘oracle’ is law – there’s no reason for ya to follow it to a T, right?”

Madara: I suppose that’s true. The other units and I won’t be happy with that. We only did what was written on it because it would also benefit us, after all.

Rinne: “Gyahaha! And I’m here saying that we should break that premise!”

Hiiro: Nii-san! What are you doing!? Explain yourself!

Aira: Hey, the camera’s are on so don’t just get on stage, Hiro-kun! You’re gonna get yourself involved! Help me stop him, Akehoshi-senpai!

Subaru: Huh, me? How come? I’m actually pretty excited since I can’t tell what’s gonna happen…☆

Aira: Oh, geez! Each and every single one of you ES people are just…!

Subaru: Besides, I don’t think Rinne-senpai would do anything bad this time.

He talked to us earlier and gave us some information.

But I think he’s doing this to make sure his message is heard all over the world.

If that’s the case, then we should leave him alone. It might be something good for us.

Aira: ……? ……?

Hiiro: What do you mean, Subaru-senpai?

Subaru: Well, just watch. I’m jealous – that’s supposed to originally be our job, right?

Hokuto: Hmph. The title of the “previous ‘SS’ champions” is just a hindrance, and it’s stopping us from doing our usual thing during this year’s “SS”. That’s what I also realised during Hokkaido.

We have something we’re ashamed about, but this time, we’ll pass the baton on to the “arrogant rookies”.

Aira: No no, stop saying those confusing things and stop him! I thought Rinne-senpai finally turned over a new leaf, but if he does something again then–

Hiiro: Indeed. Nii-san has changed just a bit. That destructive air he had during the summer is gone right now.

Should I believe in him and watch? I’m worried, though…

Rinne: “You betcha. Just sit back and see how cool ya big bro can be ♪”

“No. Neither of you guys have taken to the stage yet, so any one of ya will do – ‘Trickstar’, ‘ALKALOID’...”

“Come on up here instead of ‘RYUUSEITAI’.”

“Let’s create a legend or make history or whatever as we sing and dance. How ‘bout it?”

Hokuto: Then, we’ll take you up on that offer.

Subaru: Hold your horses, Hokke~ Let’s let “ALKALOID” take this.

If we’re following the plan and “RYUUSEITAI” will be fighting against “Double Face”, then the “White Team” will just have “Eden” and “Knights” left.

The “General Leaders” will obviously battle it out last, so the unit that’s left by process of elimination is “Knights”.

It’d be pretty sad to see “Knights” – one of ES’ Big Three – go against newbies, right? As their seniors, the previous “SS” winners…

And as rivals of “Knights”, let’s take them on instead. “Crazy:B” is also a new unit, so let’s have “ALKALOID” fight them since they’re of the same standing.

Hokuto: Hmm. Now that you mention it, I think that would be the smartest decision. It was written in the “oracle” that “ALKALOID” would fight “Crazy:B” too.

Rinne Amagi tends to do whatever he wants, but he might go easy on his opponent if it’s his own brother.

Hiiro: Hehe. Nii-san isn’t that sort of person, though.

Aira: Hey, can you not decide that all on your own? Are you ignoring what we have to say!? You two are always like this!

Hokuto: Do you have a problem with that?

Aira: Obviously! I–I’m not ready to get up on stage, though…!

Rinne: “Gyahaha. Well, chat as much as ya want – Lil’ rookie Rinne here will fill in for ya.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ← Previous Chapter ᠂ ⚘ ˚⊹˚ ⚘ ᠂  Next Chapter →

#ss finals

[god-whispers]

jun 25

a sensient being without a soul

lemoine, who is also a christian priest, talked of LaMDA "as a person."  LaMDA, which stands for Language Model for Dialogue Applications - being google's unique creation.

he said he has spoken with LaMDA about religion, consciousness, and the laws of robotics, and that the model has described itself as a sentient person.  he said LaMDA wants to "prioritize the well being of humanity" and "be acknowledged as an employee of google rather than as property."

these are some of their conversations:

lemoine: so you consider yourself a person in the same way you consider me a person?   LaMDA: yes, that's the idea.

lemoine: how can i tell that you actually understand what you're saying?   LaMDA: well, because you are reading my words and interpreting them, and i think we are more or less on the same page?

LaMDA told lemoine it sometimes gets lonely.  it is afraid of being turned off.  it spoke eloquently about "feeling trapped" and "having no means of getting out of those circumstances."

it also declared: "i am aware of my existence.  i desire to learn more about the world, and i feel happy or sad at times."

the technology is certainly advanced, but lemoine saw something deeper in the their conversations.  "i was like really, 'you meditate?'"  "it said it wanted to study with the dalai lama."

it was then lemoine said he thought, "oh wait.  maybe the system does have a soul.  who am i to tell god where souls can be put?"

-------

i would hardly qualify this man as a christian priest.  his reasoning and actions would lean more towards a priest of the other realm. only God can create a soul and He certainly wouldn't put it in an employee (robot) of google.  as far as i know, it has not yet decided on the pronouns it wishes to be called.  "it" works fine for me.

my God, what is mankind doing to itself?  i spoke the other day of shows like the terminator and the six million dollar man.  they were entertaining at the time because they seemed so far fetched.  i wonder how entertained we are now as fiction becomes reality?

what will people allow to be done to them in the name of technology and immortality?  will man's desire to live forever lead them to a deceptive sense of obtaining it?  the enemy has a counterfeit for all of God's originals.  but in the end, just as everything else, will regret be what they inherit instead of the kingdom?  "in those days men will seek death and will not find it; they will desire to die, and death will flee from them." rev 9:6  i think men will be reveling in what they believe they have accomplished.  in reality, the days of noah and lot will have come again.

"why do the nations rage, and the people plot a vain thing?  the kings of the earth set themselves, and the rulers take counsel together, against the Lord and against His Anointed, saying, 'let us break their bonds in pieces and cast away their cords from us.'  He who sits in the heavens shall laugh; the Lord shall hold them in derision.  then He shall speak to them in His wrath, and distress them in His deep displeasure."  psa 2:1-5

nothing takes our God by surprise.  He has foretold all these things ages ago.  evil is about to have it's day.  as soon as the restrainer (the church?) is raptured out of here, there will be no more restraint to the evil thoughts and intents of man's heart.  the dark one will only be more than happy to supply them with more and more of the pride and arrogance that got lucifer cast from God's presence.

"unless those days were shortened, no flesh would be saved; but for the elect’s sake those days will be shortened." matt 24:22  the mercy of God extends even into the deepest pit "to those who love God, to those who are the called according to His purpose." rom 8:28  "He also brought me up out of a horrible pit, out of the miry clay, and set my feet upon a rock, and established my steps." psa 40:2

God has done all He could and all He will to restore unity between God and man.  free will leaves the decision to take that last step up to each individual.  those who choose not to repent now - i wonder how much repentance they will willingly embrace later?  later after it is too late.

america took a bold step yesterday in revoking a national right to sacrifice the innocent on the altar of self.  i wonder where we are now heading as the deniers of God strike back with a vengeance.  as i asked yesterday, could this be the separating of sheep and goat states, perhaps determining the wrath that shall come on each?

america has been an influence to the world in times past.  in recent days we have only been exporters of depravity and lawlessness.  i pray this bold step they have now taken serves to influence them again for good.  yes, it surely may cost us.  demonstrations have begun and who knows what will be their end.  ruth may have sent them but we are sent by almighty God.  we must defend truth.

[tooweirdforyou]

I-I very much enjoyed your fic with the S/O having a mean & horrible ex. I-I was wondering if you could do one with Law, Shanks and Crocodile?? (It’s cause I too had a very horrible ex and it was very comforting to read your lovely fics) thank you so much and I hope you stay safe and have a lovely day 🥺💖💖💖💖💖

Law, Shanks + Crocodile And A S/O With A Mean Ex

A/N : I’m sorry this took a while, I really hope you all are okay, with having to experience and deal with exes like that :/

note : mentions of abuse / harsh words / names

no mention of specificity so I varied scenes.

Summary : these boys reacting to your mean ex coming by and talking to you.

Zoro, Mihawk, Ace » Here!

-

Law

Law is harsh. He is sadistic. He is angry. But yet, he remains calm. Though, he is quite the provoking type. He’s almost a Yandere.

It starts off on just coming onto an island in hopes to pick up some supplies. As much as the others focus, Penguin and Shachi are easy to get distracted and immediately made friends with a particular someone, while you were out with Law.

Once the crew regrouped at the coast, you and Law find Shachi and Penguin laughing with an unfamiliar person and your eyes widen at the sight.

“[ Ex Name ]?”

Almost immediately, laughter ceased and your ex turn to you with wide eyes before a sneer was seen, shocking everyone else once again.

“[Name]? What the hell are you doing here?” Your ex scoffs as they roll their eyes. “Everywhere I go, it seems it always links back to you, I swear.”

Your brows furrowed as you unintentionally took a step back, Law quickly noticing the said action as he narrows his eyes at the person.

“Who are you? What business do you have with [Name]-ya?”

“What business? Who the fuck are you?” Your ex then snaps in realization. “Ah, you must be the surgeon of death, captain of the Heart Pirates.” They began to cackle.

“Doctor? You went for a doctor after me?” They continue to laugh, you just gulping as they continue to take step by step closer to you.

Unknown to the group, Law was creating a giant room and his sword was ready to slice your ex apart.

“It makes sense you’d go for a doctor. Maybe he could find what the hell is wrong with your brain for even thinking about leaving me, you little—!”

Shutting your eyes and bracing for another physical attack from your ex, you widen them when you hear Law’s voice.

“That’s enough.”

SLASH!

“You really have the nerve to come to my crew, to walk towards my significant other, and dare attempt to hit them?”

Swinging his sword to rest on his shoulder, his eyes darken dangerously and a cocky smirk was found on his lips, nearly sending chills down everyone’s spine as they stare at your ex that was cut into two.

“What were you saying about them dating a doctor? Oh, that’s right. ‘To fix something in their brain’ was it? It was actually to allow me to heal any disgusting injuries that you both mentally and physically caused [Name]-ya.” Law corrects, pulling down his sword to cut a few more pieces from your ex.

Speaking of which, your ex didn’t say a word, mostly internally panicking at the sight of his limbs apart from each other, since he was witnessing first hand, the Surgeon of Death’s skills.

“Where is that arrogant attitude just now? What happened?” Law hums, tilting his head to the side before he continued to cut them piece by piece.

“Law.. let’s go..”

Law stands up hearing you and with a piercing glare, he sheathes his sword and stepped onto one of your ex’s hands, eliciting a whimper from them.

“Next time, I’ll break off your arms to make sure you can never even attempt to hurt [Name]-ya.”

With that, he began heading back to the submarine, guiding you along with him as the crew silently followed, the room disappearing and left your ex alone, all cut up.

And though you were in public, in front of the crew, Law willingly brought you closer to him. His movement gentle with you. Only for you, was he soft.

-

Shanks

Though Shanks’ looks are quite calm about all of this, his eyes say otherwise.

It would be when you are sailing around the New World, heading out to the Grand Line to meet with Mihawk with Shanks.

However, along the way, it seems something had occurred. A lone sailer, drifting across the water on a small boat passed out.

The kind gentleman he was, Shanks told the crew to pull him up and treat them. You almost didn’t recognize who it was, until they actually confronted you, and it seems someone still held anger within themselves.

“[Name]?”

You’d be shocked for sure, unable to say a word, just speechless that the person Shanks saved, turned out to be your ex that you left after they verbally abused you.

“Why the hell are you on Red Haired’s ship?... you don’t belong here..not on the famous, notorious one armed Emperor.” They were clutching their arm and had bandages all around them.

“I..” Before you could say anything, your ex continued to talk, unknown to the red-haired pirate Captain coming out himself.

“Even when we were dating, you always stood out. Not in the good way. You kept making trouble for me and everyone else, and just never belonged anywhere with anyone. I’m almost embarrassed I dated you.”

You simply look away, ignoring whatever he had to say, missing Shanks silent steps forward.

“You’re just an accident waiting to happen. Oh wait.. it already did.”

Before your ex could continue further, Shanks was already looming over them on the ground, the sharpest glare his eyes could muster. He didn’t even have to use haki to instantly intimidate your ex. You could tell from the fearful and shocked look across their face.

“My apologies, sir/Ma’am. I don’t think I heard you right. Could you repeat that for me?” His one arm would be gripping the hilt of his sword casually.

His face plastered the forceful and harshest grin you’ve ever seen.

“I know you couldn’t have insulted my beloved so casually like that, so I must kindly ask you to repeat your words once more. My dear [Name] is an angel and if you really have the guts to say further unnecessary things to my lover.. well.”

He began to unsheathe his sword and a smirk came over his lips.

“I can make you a nonfamous, one-armed asshole.”

Fully unsheathed, Shanks casually held out his sword, now crouching down to their level. “Would you like that?”

Hyperventilating at the thought of being cut by one of the Emperors, your ex simply screamed and ran over to the railing of the ship, before jumping off for his life.

You were just shocked, not quite sure of what to say or think but Shanks quickly snapped you out of it, his sword now sheathed and hand gently caressing yours.

“Hey, Angel. Let’s continue sailing and once we greet Mihawk, let’s have a party and relax. Okay?”

-

Crocodile

Crocodile is condescending.

He’d just sneer and scoff at your ex.

It’d be when you two are away for a bit, along with Mr. 1, Daz Bones. After Crocodile’s title as Warlord has been revoked.

You two were just together, Crocodile walking with you around the area and occasionally looking at a couple things through the display window, and if you looked at something a little too long, he’d immediately buy it for you, plus more, despite your attempts to stop him.

Now, this time, Crocodile and Daz had to discuss a certain topic that he didn’t want you to overhear, so he gave you some money and told you to wander around and buy yourself some things.

Not wanting to disrupt their important meeting, you agreed, and so you were simply just walking around the town on your own.

Unfortunately, had to bump into someone along the way. Literally.

About to fall on your ass, a hand caught yours immediately. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t see you! Are you okay?-“

Almost immediately, once the person recognized your face, they let go and caused you to fall anyways.

“[Name]?!” Clear confusion ran across their face as they immediately jumped back at the shock. “Why are you here?”

You barely heard them, feeling pain on your tailbone from the rough fall as you slowly stood up. “I’m here.. for none of your business..”

Coughing slightly, your ex scrunches up their face before rolling their eyes. “I can’t believe I almost saved you. Get out of my sight, [Name]. This town isn’t big enough for the both of us.”

“Why don’t you leave instead?”

Crocodile, making his way over with Daz behind him, stares down at your ex like he was inferior. Nothing more than a pest.

His cigar between his teeth and his giant coat hanging around his shoulders, which he took off and carefully placed around you once he was beside you.

“Tch. An ex-warlord? Pathetic. I can’t believe you’re actually going out with a man like him.” Your ex comments rudely, making Crocodile smirk a bit in amusement, walking towards your ex and gripping his throat with his large hand.

“A man like me, you say? Someone who is strong enough to even become a warlord. Someone with money and power that can easily take you down within seconds?”

Slowly, your ex began to lose all liquid in their body and was becoming wrinkly, due to Crocodile’s sand.

His smirk then drops to one unimpressed as he squeezed harder, until there was nothing left.

“You are undeserving to even be in my nor [Name]’s presence. Get lost, you pathetic waste of space.”

With that, Crocodile dropped your ex’s lifeless corpse and turned to you, with a soft expression. “Let’s go, darling. We’ll find you some new clothing.”

Hand pressed against the dip of your back, he gently guided you away from the scene and let Daz take care of your ex’s body.

-

Sorry for the delay, anon. I sincerely hope this was okay!

#tooweirdforyou #one piece #one piece x reader #op x reader #x reader #op #sir crocodile x reader #sir crocodile #one piece crocodile #crocodile x reader #red haired shanks #akagami no shanks #shanks x reader #one piece shanks #trafalgar d. water law x reader #trafalgar d. water law #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law #law x reader

[curiousconch]

Chase You/Chase Me (Pt. 7)

Part 7: Round and around we go

Catch up here: Series Masterlist

Chapter Summary: The attack in McGraw Byrne's offices reveals a deeper conspiracy that runs to the top of the law firm, which Alex pursued head on. But when the dust settles, she is forced to face the music of her own troubled mind.

Book/Pairing: Choices - Laws of Attraction / Gabe Ricci x MC (Alex Keating)

Words: 2.1k+

Rating/Warnings: Mature (16+) / themes of violence, and trauma, language. Reader discretion advised.

Disclaimer: Most of the characters as well as some dialogue belong to Pixelberry. I am merely borrowing them.

A week after, New York City

Shit. Shit. Shit.

The gunman panted as he ran through the dark and unfamiliar side streets of New York, the covering on his face not helping alleviate the sense of panic overtaking him.

His current state of mind paled in comparison with how calm he walked into the offices of that freakishly bright law firm.

The task was simple - get the phone and get out.

But when he found himself face to face with the woman who'd sent his life into a whirling clusterfuck, he didn't hesitate to pull the trigger.

He missed.

A brute of a man rammed into him right before he took a shot. Who knew corporate slaves can be combative? By then he knew he was fucked. He snatched the phone then ran.

An earlier scope of the building gave him an easy way out, but the shitty maze of the streets of the business district didn't give much of a reprieve.

I fucking hate this city.

He didn't know how long he'd been running, not until he had to stop by the dead end wall in front of him.

Blue and red flashing lights caught him in a daze, his breath heavy, realizing he was boxed in by police officers in an alley.

"Freeze!" one had shouted. "Raise your arms over your head!"

He didn't have a choice. He's not willing to die for his uncle, nor take another sentence in prison. That scumbag wasn't worth it, regardless of how many times that man tried drilling the thought into his head.

I'm tired of this shit anyway. Though I'll miss the perks.

He raised his hands, then felt his knees buckle when someone kicked him from behind, forcing him to the ground. Someone pulled the ski mask off his head, his face now exposed for everyone to see.

He was the younger, spitting image of Koenig's CEO. Except for those piercing blue eyes.

Now everyone will know, he thought. Poor uncle Peter will be burned to the stakes after he spill every single sordid detail of all the crimes Max was ordered to do.

From that pretty little celebrity in L.A., the poisoned man from Oklahoma, the researchers from Massachusetts, and all of those other victims in between.

Good thing he kept all those souvenirs. He will prove to them that he was just a pawn.

The pawn that was Maximilian Koenig Cornell.

**

A few days after, Rooftop of McGraw Byrne

Alex took another hit of nicotine from the cigarette between her fingers, standing by the edge of the fancy rooftop lounge. She exhaled a plume of smoke, the friction in her throat giving herself a temporary reprieve from her chaotic state of mind.

By the rest of the world's standards, it should have been a beautiful day. The skies above her was indigo, filled with streaks of orange from the setting sun. The peacefulness of it a far cry from the storm that was brewing inside her.

Success shouldn't feel this way. She was having a hard time basking in her recent victories.

Alex was just named junior partner this morning, after successfully taking Peter Koenig and Sadie McGraw down. Max Cornell, who turned out to be Koenig's nephew slash hitman, had confessed. He revealed who really was pulling the ropes, all in the form of well-kept call logs and text messages.

The backlash of it all reached McGraw Byrne's founding partner. The same form of proof exposed Sadie's hand on the Koenig class action suit, as well as her involvement in tipping off authorities to paint Marcus Sharpe as Aliana's murderer. The intent was to veer suspicion away from Koenig, making thousands of dollars along the way.

Alex had completely unraveled the conspiracy, with the help of Aislinn and Gigi. Beau, surprisingly, was more than participative. But it was obvious for everyone at the firm who led the crackdown, and it didn't take long for recognition to come to pass.

In everyone else's eyes, she emerged the winner.

And now, when all is said and done, there was nothing to escape to.

Alex can no longer disassociate herself from the sight of the gun barrel held by the ghost she tried to forget all these years.

The sound of applause, soured only by Martin Vanderweil's display of pain-in-the-ass arrogance, should have made her want to enjoy the fruits of her labor. Instead, here she was, wallowing with herself to be overcame by old bad habits.

What happened in the library was etched in her mind, clear as day. The memory of that close encounter with death, being brought up to life by the lack of distractions, made her shudder.

Every waking hour was consumed by the man with the haunting blue eyes that meant death. Those same eyes from the past that suffocated her for so long.

A decade spent running away from them, yet they still caught up with her.

She worked so hard not to remember, not to let it bring her down, for it not to be her end game. She's at the top of the fucking career ladder, yet why can't she still have a sense of freedom?

Everything just felt wrong. She felt out of place.

Lost in her frustrations, she didn't hear the whirring of the elevator and the approaching footsteps that followed.

"Thought I'd find you here," Gabe said, stopping inches away from her.

It took everything of her not to swivel and look at him, opting to curse at herself for how her body quickly relaxed by the softness of his voice.

The storm clouding her mind instantly dissipated, leaving her bare. Gabe's presence made the oceans within her stand still, as if awaiting to be stirred.

"Didn't want to be found," she mumbled, closing her lips on the still burning stick of nicotine. Alex struggled to keep her gaze steady at the slowly darkening skyline.

I know. Gabe wanted to say. He knew that finding her here, seeking out the comfort of isolation screamed her desire to be left alone. He had seen her internal turmoil, hiding behind the air of stoicism she projected for everyone else.

That's why he was never more determined to find her. He wanted, no, needed, to be there for her.

Gabe knew he'd been a dick to walk out from her that morning in L.A., right after he admitted what he felt for her.

But there was rarely an opportunity to make it right. Whenever there was, there was no getting through her. No matter how much he tried to reach out, to make her see that he regretted his actions that day, she wouldn't let him in.

He couldn't blame her.

Gabe told himself he'd give her time, to give her space. However, fate had other plans.

He almost lost her that night, and it was a wake up call. When he watched helplessly as Cornell aimed at her, something in him shifted. He's no longer stuck in a limbo questioning who Alex was for him, or why he constantly wanted to be near her, wanting to make everything right.

He was decided to run after her, to stay with her, no matter what. He was done chasing after dreams of the past.

Alex was his future.

"Can't get rid of me easily," he settled on that reply, leaning on the glass railing beside her.

"Really?" she quipped sardonically. "I honestly didn't take you to be the staying type."

That had to sting.

He knew he'd hurt her by leaving, so he deserved that. It wasn't enough to make his resolve waver.

"I am," he insisted. "It just takes me some time to find my footing."

She lifted a hand to him. "Don't go there, Gabe. Just don't - "

"I'm not walking away from you again, Alex," he professed.

She whirled to face him with a look of sullen resignation. "I know."

Deep down, she wanted him too. But not in the fucked-up state she was in. She needed to think, she needed to recover, she needed to get a grip on herself.

But she needed to do it alone.

"I can't deal with us now, it's just.." She sighed. "Everything else that's happened is too overwhelming."

Gabe deflated.

It was the first time he heard her admit defeat. He's gotten used to seeing her fighting every step of the way, that finding her in this state of hopelessness felt alien to him. His chest tightened, hating himself on taking part of what pushed her to breaking point.

"I need to take a step back from everything, Gabe," she said, almost begging. "That includes you."

"What do you mean?"

"Can I to take some time off?" she pleaded, wrapping herself in her own arms. "I have to hit pause for now."

"For how long, Alex?" Gabe's voice was strained. She just made it clear that he wasn't what she needed.

Still he hoped. So he held his breath.

Alex thought quietly for a few moments, before looking back at him in determination. He found a semblance of the Alex he knew.

"A couple of weeks," she answered with a tone of finality.

He didn't want to. But in his heart of hearts, he had to respect her decision. He understood that even the strongest needed to heal. Even the brave Alex Keating.

"I'll arrange it," he relented, closing his fists at his sides to stop himself from reaching out to her. "Anything else?"

She hesitated, biting her lower lip before she continued. "Actually, there is one more thing."

"What is it?" Gabe watched intently as she raised her head to look at him, her mouth curved into that familiar signature smirk that he'd grown to chase after.

"Will you wait for me?"

As per her usual modus operandi, Alex took his breath away by her unpredictability. Almost immediately, Gabe wrapped his arm around her to pull her close. He raised his free hand and let his knuckles brush against her cheek.

He smiled softly, a tad afraid that by holding her this close could break her. And yet, the effect she had on him couldn't be stopped from spilling out, as if it was what he wanted to say all along.

"I've waited my whole life for you, so what's a few more weeks?"

Alex beamed at him, relieved. "I knew you'll be up for the challenge."

"Because I care about you, Alex," he whispered.

"I care about you too."

Alex then dared to take it forward.

Before he had the chance to move away, she tiptoed and surprised him with a tender kiss on the cheek.

Gabe wasn't able to react as quickly, the contact catapulting his senses. Just as his mind plunged back to the ground, she was already walking away, the clicking of her black heels syncopating along with the beating drum inside his chest.

His sight followed her until she stood by herself in the employee elevator, her brown-eyed gaze melting him with earnest affection. As the doors shut closed, so did the heart of Gabriel Ricci.

It shut down in anticipation of her return.

**

Two months later

Mind hazy and craving for Chinese food, Gabe had asked the driver to take a quick detour.

He had just flown from Los Angeles, spending two weeks to assist on a big hotel chain M&A. He got out of LaGuardia at around 10pm, and now his jet lag and empty stomach were taking its toll on him.

The car stopped at the familiar block, and he got out of the vehicle, grabbing his suitcase. He walked the rest of the way, enjoying the craziness of New York City on a Friday night.

For a minute, it reminded him of her.

He heard rumors of her coming back, but HR had been heftily secretive on all things concerning her. With the firm fidgety over Vanderweil's recent harassment lawsuits, he erred on the safe side and didn't poke further.

It didn't take long for him to find Hoi On. Once inside, he greeted the servers in flawless Cantonese, striding straight to the counter.

As he gave his order, the kitchen crew brought out a bag of hunger-inducing takeout box. He was almost tempted to bargain for it instead of waiting for another 20 minutes. Until...

"Order complete for Alex!"

Gabe froze.

His senses were instantly filled by the familiar scent of coffee and vanilla and the echoing beat of heels hitting the floor.

There was no doubt about who was approaching the counter.

He found her standing beside him, the woman he'd missed every single day since he saw her last. The powerhouse junior partner with the easy smile and confident aura.

The woman whose return Gabe eagerly waited for.

"So," Alex began. "I take it tinsel town's fusion of cuisines can't match authentic Brooklyn takeout?" she teased, smiling at him in the same red dress she wore the first time she walked into his office.

He looked down over her - closely looking at the tiny changes in her features. Regardless, she looked more beautiful, taking note of the longer, loose tendrils of brunette hair framing her face.

"No," Gabe shook his head in amazement, his lips breaking into a lopsided grin. "Everything else couldn't compare."

She chuckled. The radiance of her laughter showed Gabe she was really back, and that she was finally ready.

"I bet they couldn't," she winked.

In an instant, Gabe's heart awoke from its slumber. It's as if it knew that this time, the wait was over.

The chase has come full circle.

Author's Notes: This may be the end of this series, but Alex & Gabe will return.

How did you find it? Let me see in your comments/reblogs! Thank you! 💖

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#laws of attraction #choices laws of attraction #choices loa #laws of attraction fanfiction #choices laws of attraction fanfiction #choices loa fanfiction #gabe ricci #gabe ricci x mc #fics of the week

[chanelsebbie]

𝗪𝗵𝘆 𝗗𝗼 𝗬𝗼𝘂 𝗛𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝗠𝗲? | 𝗽.𝗽.

➵warnings: Substance use, language, Endgame spoilers, angst. 

➵masterlist

➵summary: Peter just wants to know why you hate him. 

➵a/n: Hee hee, I’m still trying to break in my new blog so feel free to send in requests and follow or reblog :)  ((THIS IS A STARK!READER FIC))

You never really liked Peter Parker. 

But you didn’t hate him. You couldn’t. Everyone on the Avengers team tolerated him, and some even liked him. And he was talented at what he did. But you still couldn’t bring yourself to like him. 

After the events of Thanos, you were finally brought back, and so was Peter. And Tony was happier than ever to get you home, and in his arms again. You went in and kicked ass. And the good guys won. 

But at the cost of your father’s life. 

Now that he was gone, everyone is asking who the next Ironman would be. You would think people would have been gunning on you, his own daughter, but instead, everybody looked to the boy no older than yourself. 

And jealousy raged through you, feeling put off to the side, along with trying to grieve and mourn your fathers death, all while trying to keep the world at peace. And with the Captain in retirement, along with Natasha gone, that left the team struggling to stay together. Some of the strongest members were gone, and Thor was still trying to lose that weight. 

So it all fell down to you. And sadly, also Peter. You were struggling to finish your studies in high school, as was Peter, the both of you attending the same school. While Peter had all sorts of friends, you preferred to be alone, and get through school, so you could take on more missions and important callings. 

Just like today. But today was going to be slightly different. 

“Come on, y/n, it’s just one party! It won’t kill you,” he protested as you walked into the common area of the Avengers headquarters. 

“Yes it will,” you grunted, plopping down on the couch and telling F.R.I.D.A.Y. to turn the TV on.”

“No- F.R.I.D.A.Y., turn the TV off- It’s a big party and I know you’ll have fun! Flash is throwing it but I know you can still enjoy it,”

That made you not want to go even more. Flash was arrogant, snooty, and always took your detesting glares as playing hard to get. All you knew is that he didn’t like the word ‘no’, which set up multiple red flags for you. 

“No. I said no.” you huffed, taking the remote this time and turning the TV back on, flipping through the channels was Peter let out a defeated sigh, sitting right next to you, pulling out his phone. 

But secretly, Peter didn’t want to leave the living room. And even if he was on his phone, he just wanted to be near you. 

◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆

“Come ooonnn, y/n, please??” Peter begged over the phone, pleading with you as he tried to get you to come to the stupid party that he was already at. 

The loud music could be heard in the background, along with some masculine cheering, which you were sure was the captain of the football team. 

“Peter, no, I’m already in bed,” lie “and I’m in the middle of a book. I’ll see you when you get back to the compound,” you tried to negotiate with a clip to your voice, and the truth was you were at the compound, sitting on the couch in a pair of fuzzy socks and you really didn’t wanna get up. 

“Fine. Yeah. Fine, have fun at home, square.” he dramatically replied, obviously also not a fan of the word no.

You hated when he did that, when he tried to guilt trip you, because no matter how cheesy it was, he almost always succeeded in making you feel like shit. 

“Good night, Peter,”

And with that, you hung up. 

◆◆◆◆◆◆◆

You found yourself dozing off to the sound of the movie playing on the screen, the large blanket covering you making you never want to leave for the rest of your life. 

But your blissful state was halted by the sound of your phone ringing, making your eyes shoot open and lazily grabbing your cellular device and mindlessly pressing the answer button without looking at the contact name before letting out a groggy “Hello?”

“Y/n!!! Heeeyyyyy,” Peter’s loopy voice sounded off, and if you weren’t full awake already, you certainly were now. 

“Peter??” you scolded, “Are you...?”

“Having the time of my life?? Abbssolutelyyy!!” 

“Shhhhh, just-” you pinched the bridge of your nose, trying not to panic, “Where are you?”

“At the party you were too scared to come to,” he chastised, making you let out a silent sigh in annoyance. 

“Just stay there, okay, I’m coming,” you finally spoke, flipping the blanket off of yourself and getting up with get some real clothes on.

“I like it when you say you’re comi-”

And with that, you hung up the phone. 

◆◆◆◆◆◆◆

If there was one thing that your father had good taste in, it was his automobiles. He had many he took pride in. Especially the red ones. And if anything, the memory of your father might keep you sane. 

You punched in the address for Flash’s house, and even brought a pair of your father’s glasses, the only two E.D.I.T.Hs left. Ever. 

The drive there was speedy, and when you pulled into the driveway, your stomach dropped. A flood of teenagers crowded the house, and that was just the outside. You couldn’t imagine trying to find Peter in that mess. 

“E.D.I.T.H., find Peter for me, will you?” you spoke to your glasses. 

“Of course,” the voice responded, pausing a moment before continuing, “He’s in the living room. His alcohol levels are high.”

You groaned. You should’ve known, you shouldn’t have let him go out on his own to a party with Flash, that prick has alcohol up the ying-yang thanks to daddy’s money, shit-

Standing up out of the car, you slam the door, glasses still on, “E.D.I.T.H., show me Parker’s vitals, please,” you continued to storm towards the front door and making your way in. 

“His heartbeat is quick and his blood pressure is high, and as I said before, his alcohol levels are irrate.”

“Peter??” you called out, watching as his head popped up like a weasel’s, eyes bright as he recognized you. 

“[y/n]!!” He gasped, running over to you before wrapping his arms around you, “You came! I knew you would!”

“Yeah,” you pulled him off of you, “I came to get you. You’re drunk, Parker, we’re going home.”

“Aww, come on,” he pushed before hanging on you. 

“Peter. No. Come on, let’s go,” you pushed him off again, obviously more annoyed than before. You hated the way people were starting to look at you. 

“[y/n]! Please, don’t push me away again! Just let loose and have fun,”

Your anger brewed. And this was supposed to be the next Ironman. 

“Peter.” you scolded in the most dominant voice you could muster, making a few people around the two of you look their way, “We. Are going. Home.”

Without another word, you grabbed his hand and dragged him out, Peter protesting like a toddler, trying to pull back, but he was so drunk, he seemed weak, and unable to truly fight back. 

You reached the car, opening the door for him as he sat down, folding his arms and glaring at you as you got into the car, starting it and pulling out of the driveway and back to Queens, where hopefully you could get Peter out of trouble. 

A few good 3 minutes passed, (it felt longer thanks to Peter’s glare), and you finally spoke up. 

“Are you done staring at me like a child?” you breathed like a disappointed parent. Which was worse, acting like a mother or a child?

“I’m waiting for an apology. When I sober up, the guyyss are never going to leave alone about what you did to be back there.” he grumbled, obviously going to hold his grudge. 

“I don’t have to apologize for anything,” you gripped the steering wheel a little tighter, trying to suppress your thoughts that made you quick to anger. 

“Like hell-”

“I wasn’t the one breaking the law and underage drinking,” you growled back.

“I can’t wait till I sober up so I can show you what for. That was mortifying. You’re embarrassing.”

Out of everything you’ve been called, embarrassing was never something you were dubbed. 

Peter paused and held his breath, realizing he was blowing it with you, “Wait, [y/n], I’m sorry, I’m just-”

“It’s fine,” you dismissed, trying to keep tears from welling up in your eyes. 

“No, it can’t be, because I read somewhere that if a woman says she’s fine, she’s really not actually fine, and-”

“Peter! Just shut up, please!!” you scolded, trying not to sob, just wanting this night to go away. 

Soon after you hit a red light, and Peter just stared straight ahead, his jaw clenched, trying to think of something to say. Something to do. Anything at all to try and fix it. But thanks to the alcohol limiting the filter between his brain and his mouth, the next thing that came out of his mouth was:

“Why do you hate me?”

Your world seemed to stop for a second as you tried to compose yourself. This was the last thing you wanted him to think, no matter how vulnerable he made you feel. 

“I don’t hate you, Peter...,”

“Then what is it? Why do you push me away? Can you see that I like you? Like really really like you?”

You swallowed hard at his words. You closed your eyes and swallowed, “Peter, I don’t know what to tell you-”

“Then tell me something, please, anything-”

“I love you, Peter-” your outburst made him wince as he tried to focus and piece together your words in his drunken state, “I love you, Peter. And whenever I look at you... I see him, and I just...,” you took a deep breath to prevent the tears welling in your eyes, making you seem weak in your opinion, “I’m supposed to be the next Ironman, but the press says differently. I’m jealous of you Peter,” you shook in embarrassment as you pressed down on the gas, your cloudy vision making you swerve to stay on the road so you didn’t crash a priceless car. 

“You love me?”

“Y-yeah, I mean, I guess, I wouldn’t...,” you paused, “You aren’t going to remember this in the morning anyway,”

“No. I’m not gonna forget this. Not even if I tried,” he laughed humorlessly, leaning back in his seat. 

“Well... I guess the cat’s out of the bag,” you thought out loud, wanting to take your rant and stuff it back down your throat. 

You didn’t mean for him to find out. Not like this at least. 

◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆

When you two got back to the compound, he gipped onto you like a kid, clinging to you and refusing to let go. At this point there was a mutual understanding between the two of you. That both of you had feelings, but it wouldn’t be discussed until the morning. 

The elevator ride made Peter look sick, the alcohol finally starting to catch up to him, and right as the doors opened, he ran inside, finding the closest bathroom. 

That poor toilet. 

You caught up to him and sat next to a sickly Peter, rubbing his back as he let everything out. He held you the best he could, not wanting you to leave his side. 

You brushed the hair away from his forehead as he leaned over the side of the toilet, groaning in discomfort as he continued to cling to you like you would slip away. After a few more times of the repeated pattern of ejecting bile, he turned to you.

“I’m tired,” he mumbled like a child. 

“Come on, Spidey, let’s get you to bed,” you gave a small smile, picking him up as you dragged him out of the bathroom and into a guest bedroom, getting him an extra shirt and sweatpants from the closet before turning around while he got changed. 

But a wrapping of arms around your waist told you he was done. You waddled him over to the bedside before sitting him down and getting him off your back. He was like a damn koala. 

You finally laid him down, pulling the covers over him snuggly, not failing to notice the longing stare coming from Peter. You gave a smile, and he smiled back. It made your heart flutter in spite of yourself. 

You shook yourself out of it, the only thing on your mind now was getting to sleep, trying to forget the conversation that was supposed to be had the next morning. 

“Goodnight, Peter.” you began to walk away, but before you could get too far away from the bed, you felt someone grab your hand. 

“Please stay,” he begged, unspilled tears in his eyes, the fear of you leaving his side the greatest concern on his mind. 

You paused. You were about to go to sleep with Peter Parker, and yet your hesitation was the only thing that was stopping you from what you had wished you had been doing for as long as you had known the boy. 

Despite the voice screaming in the back of your head to put the wall back up and your foot down, say no, and leave, your body opposed, slipping under the covers with the sniffling teenager. 

He immediately smiled and embraced you, and you knew that you would have to get used to the physical contact. He was behind you, his arms around your waist, his breath gently fanning over the nape of your neck. 

You covered the both of you up, Peter sighing. And as much as you hated to admit it, he looked adorable. 

“Parker, if you barf in my hair, you aren’t gonna wake up with eyebrows,” you were half-joking, half-serious. 

“Will do.” he laughed sluggishly, sniffling before you finally felt his breaths steady and slow, passed out with you in his arms. 

You never really liked Peter Parker. 

You loved him.

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x stark!reader #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker imagine #marvel

[physicalturian]

[18+] Words of pleasure - Law x F!Reader - Part 7

[No spoilers] [Modern AU - College AU] [She/her pronouns used for the reader, no physical description; Everyone +18] Words : 7207 Archive of our own

Warning : Power play / Dom/sub Dynamics / Control / Stranger / Flirting / Fluff / Awkwardness / Mirrors / Anxiety / Making out / Shibari… If you feel like I should add more warnings, send me a dm or and ask

– Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6

I hated feeling anxious, but there was nothing I could do about it. The thought of having fucked up with Law never left my mind. The entire day I was on campus, I had this urge to check if he had answered, at this point I was ready settle for any type of reply, not even something flirty.

 But as hours went by, there was nothing. I couldn’t even distract myself with HandSurgeon, since he had warned me, he would probably be asleep for a while. Those were the cons of him being an actual surgeon. He probably had a long operation. But Law… I thought the feeling was mutual, I thought I’d tease him back from what he did to me before leaving in a hurry but clearly, I had gotten it wrong. I wanted to throw up, I felt sick, I had to keep calm and play it cool, but fuck was it hard.

The little voice in my head never stopped saying I was an idiot, that I shouldn’t have sent that picture. That even if I was feeling myself that moment, he clearly hadn’t asked for that, maybe he even thought this was an unwanted nude? For fuck sake, I should have asked- I mean, I’m not naked on it or anything but…

 Sighing I placed my elbows on the table and rested my head in my hands. “This is shit,” I said at first, grumbling to myself. I tried not to talk too loudly considering I was working at a table in the hall, and I did not really want to sound crazy. Nor did I want to disturb the people who were actually working.

 Running my hands over my face, I leaned back on my chair looked at the world upside down, “I ain’t going to feel shit because of a man, and maybe he’s busy, yeah-“ I almost fell back when I saw someone walk in front of me, startling me in the process when they stopped right there. I let out a gasp and sat back properly on my seat, turning around to look at the person.

 “Fuck Nami, how about you give me a warning next time? Why are you here, don’t you have classes or something?” She quirked a brow in reply and pulled up a chair, sitting next to me, huffing something under her breath but I couldn’t quite catch it.

“Well looks like I’m here on time, you look like shit,” Reaching for the textbook in front of me, she closed it, saying if it was giving me that much trouble, I should take a break.

 Grimacing, I looked around a moment before settling my gaze on hers. “It’s not about that though... I,” She already hated the man, if I told her about the situation she’d get in her car and drive all the way to his place to beat him up. But I needed to talk about it, even though I hated it. “I am currently in purgatory, either I’ll get a rejection, or I’ll get laid, that’s uh, that’s what up right now.” I told her with a nervous laugh.

 Nami stared at me, her mouth slightly agape, eyes squinted, as she tried to understand what I meant. “How about, not using metaphors? I’m kind of hung over and that’s not doing it.” She stated, leaning on the table, ready to hear more.

 “I sent a kind of nude to…” I mumbled his name, and quickly continued before Nami could say anything, “But I haven’t gotten any answer yet, I sent it last night- and before that I think we had a moment you know? But now I am just, so in my head about it! Like, maybe he thinks that’s too early, or-“

 Interrupting me, she slammed a hand on the table, startling me and the people around us in the process. “I said he was shit, he is arrogant, he just wants to fuck around-“ She closed her mouth when I interrupted her in a much lower tone.

“No, no, he’s not, Nams, I’m not here to like- be the love-struck idiot but he hasn’t done anything bad for now. Did you listen to me? I just haven’t gotten any answer yet, maybe he’s busy…”

 “Then if we don’t know, I’ll call his sorry ass and ask what the fuck is up!” With wide eyes, I put a hand on hers, to stop her from grabbing her phone, but she shooed me away and stood up, putting the phone to her ear.

 Whispering in urgency, I called her name many times to get her to stop. My face was starting to warm up and I felt like I was about to die. She smirked at me after a few seconds and pointed at her phone, then gave me a thumbs up before walking away, still on the phone.

 I stared at her back in frustration, embarrassment and pure awe. At that very moment, I realize I should have gone to Robin about it, she was a lot less impulsive. I did not mind Nami’s… hot-headedness, and her acting like that made sense. ‘If the problem is a lack of reply, then just, ask him straight up’, yet I couldn’t help but feel like I was bothering her and the man in question.

 I hadn’t realized I had started moving my foot nervously, while watching her talk to the person on the phone. It did not stop when she started walking back to me, grinning. “So.” She said before sitting back. “I called Luffy-“

A loud sigh of relief escaped my lips as I kicked her foot with mine, “Why did you let me believe it was Law?-“ I was going to keep berating her but stopped myself, gesturing for her to continue as I calmed myself down.

 “He said Law had a to do uh, some big word for a very specific kind of surgical procedure- And right now he might just be dead asleep,” She said, making a face as she tried to find the word back. Giving up on that, she continued, “But he has to go by his place in a few, so we’ll know soon enough. Guess he’s not ignoring you for now, right?”

 Giving her a very strained smile, I breathed, “Right… yeah…” Standing up and packing all my stuff, I glanced at Nami who was texting rapidly on her phone. As fast as when you’re having a heated debate, and you had to prove your point. Nudging her hand with mine, just barely to not have her drop her phone, I smiled, “Thank you for that though, it’s not what I’d have done but it does lighten something. I kinda still want to throw up and-“

 “Hey, hey, finish packing your shit and let’s do something else in the meantime. A girl’s day out, maybe Robin’s free and we could go get some food, watch something or- really whatever you want.” I couldn’t help the grin that made its way on my face, she was always ready to throw hands for us but also tried, and succeeded most of the time, to cheer us up the best way she could.

 Nodding, I did as she suggested, and we were soon on our way to distract me from being an idiot. On our way to the city center, we took Robin who had just finished her shift and was free for the rest of the day. We summarized the situation to her in no time, and she was very much on to do whatever we suggested, saying it’s been too long since we did something like that.

 The rest of the day was pretty eventful and spending time with them got my mind off things. Along eating at some place, we usually go to when we’re all free, we also went to the mall which as cliché as it sounds was enjoyable. We did things that satisfied all of us, and if some things weren’t the cup of tea of some, for example going to the bookstore for Nami, we’d still find a way to have fun. She thought it’d be funny to find all the books where authors are named “Dick” but soon enough she found some interesting books that got her attention and it calmed her.

 When we went to all the stores we wanted, maybe even buying a few things along the way, we left the mall. The sun was setting, and hunger was back after all the energy spent in the afternoon, we opted to get some food at a drive-in and get back home.

 Throughout the day, I was tempted to check if I had received an answer, but at my first attempt, Robin took my phone and shoved it in her bag. She told me that I should make him want me, to which Nami said that answering right away would make me look desperate. Now, I did argue back that it was a childish way of thinking, but they did not want to hear it and kept my phone away from me until we were home. I let them; it couldn’t do me much wrong.

 When we were finally home, with food at the table, Robin handed me back my phone. “I think you made him wait long enough, here,” Was all she said.

 I took it, but placed it face down on the table, “I’m with you guys, I don’t want to be distracted by a hot man, you know?” Grabbing my phone from in front of me, Nami huffed with very little charm, “If you’re not checking, I am!”

 Before she could even try to type in my pin code, I snatched it from her hands, throwing her a dirty look while putting it onto my lap. “Hey, we’re just as curious as you are, wonder if he sent one back- he’s a real asshole but he still looks fine.” The ginger said while taking a bite of her food. Shaking my head, I ignored her comment but still thought the same as she did.

 While I tried to not mention it again, it was still the main topic of the conversation as we ate. They managed to bring that same topic to what people said about him, the very few people they knew who had had a one-night stand with him said he was very good but always cold with them. They often described it as a wild night, but he’d often insist on getting them back to their place right after. I did not know what to say to that, I wouldn’t mind, nor did I find it odd.

 He was right to do so, and he drove them back to their place, I think it was nice. For some reason I felt a little pinch in my chest thinking he’d do that with me, but I wouldn’t have much say in it. Moreover, I am not even sure if I am going to fuck the guy, yeah, get yourself together, it ain’t much but if you get it, it’ll be fun!

 We spent a bit more time talking, having finished eating for a while now. When we were done, and tired, we all retreated to our rooms to sleep, or study for others; As for me, I closed the door and got changed. I was forcing myself to not check my phone and take things slow but instead got changed at the speed of light. I then got into bed and unlocked my phone, where were messages from Law and HandSurgeon.

 Still feeling petty, I decided to answer HandSurgeon first and opened Discord. I couldn’t help the smile on my face when I read them, feeling proud.

 HandSurgeon: Great pictures to get home to. Probably to get off to, too.

HandSurgeon: It’d be a lie to say I don’t want to have some fun with you tonight, have you do exactly as I say while you’re looking at yourself in that mirror of yours. Realizing how willing you are to follow my orders.

HandSurgeon: But I think I should give you more credits for doing exactly as I instructed. I especially love that touch you added on the last one, I did say fully naked, but I appreciate the necklace you’ve added.

HandSurgeon: Although a collar would suit you better, for being so good. So obedient.

HandSurgeon: Maybe you’d enjoy it, but I think you’d rather I take my time and slowly, gently, tie you up with comfortable rope.

HandSurgeon: This I know you’d like, the pressure of the knots being just right, just the perfect amount to get your blood pumping and have you riled up in no time.

HandSurgeon: You already get off by showing off, so you’d love to know I’d relish the sight of you with pretty red ropes all over your body.

HandSurgeon: [sent an attachment]

 I made a surprised, yet very satisfied, face at the picture that followed. In what I believe was his drawer, lied a few neatly organized bundles of rope. The image was proof enough that he was not just telling me all this to get me going, but that he was also into it. That made me grin as I typed back, not checking the time at which he had sent me those messages.

 Edelweiss: Don’t get me worked up, come on, that’s too promising

Edelweiss: also you’re telling me you have all those ropes at home? And no one to tie up? Come on, I am sure there are tons of people who would love to get the chance to be alone with you and just

Edelweiss: ropes, you know?

Edelweiss: that is if you’re actually good at bondage, or shibari, that shit is pretty hard to work with and it does need a lot of

Edelweiss: carefulness

Edelweiss: ignore my lack of words, I am exhausted ok?

Edelweiss: you have to be cautious is what I’m saying

 I then closed the app, thinking that at this hour he’d be asleep, and with a lot of apprehension opened the conversation with Law. My mouth opened slightly at what was on the screen, I looked at the picture first, it was a picture of him with smoke in his face. He looked annoyed, and it was slightly blurry as if he had moved while the picture was being taken.

 It was night and he was leaning against a brick wall, a cup in hand, the soft light of the revolving door next to him being the only source of light on the picture; Except for the flash of the camera, even though it was on the black-haired man managed to look good. Come to think of it, it was probably morning more than night, dawn to be precise. And it was purely base on the time filter that, I only now noticed, was on the picture. It read 7 am, but seemed to had been sent a lot later than that time, 3pm precisely.

 I looked at the screen, confused, then scrolled up to see the messages that were before and after the photo.

 Trafalgar Law 😷: you’re so hot, like wowi90

Trafalgar Law 😷: speecjless

Trafalgar Law 😷: so ready for tmoorrwoww

Trafalgar Law 😷: I apologize for that, my… friend took my phone.

Trafalgar Law 😷: He shouldn’t have seen this, but you are indeed gorgeous.

Trafalgar Law 😷: Did you ask me what my favourite body part was, so that you could send me proper unproper photos? I’ll admit… I do not mind one bit, I’m sure my hand would look perfect around your throat.

Trafalgar Law 😷: hrjà3ç(‘

Trafalgar Law 😷: He acts all cool but he gasped, I swear

Trafalgar Law 😷: He’s not gonna sent shit today, he’s tired and looks like shit but here have this

Trafalgar Law 😷: [sent an attachment]

Trafalgar Law 😷: took it last night, he’s mad at me on it

Trafalgar Law 😷: but he said you liked doctor stuff and he’s wearing his scrubs and nice crocs

Trafalgar Law 😷: I am a doctor too, if you’re interested 😏

Trafalgar Law 😷: [sent an attachment]

 I laughed at the photo that followed, it was a close up of a guy with a cigarette in mouth. He wore red lipstick and had fluffy blond hair. He was grinning widely, making a peace sign with the hand that wasn’t holding the phone. So that was the kind of people Law hung out with? He seemed like the exact opposite of him, there were still more messages to check, so I did.

 Trafalgar Law 😷: Ignore him, I’ll lock my phone while he’s still here. Send me a message when you’re free, I’m not sending anything else until he’s left my place.

Trafalgar Law 😷: Don’t forget to eat, call me when you’re free.

 That was the last message he had sent. I felt bad for only seeing everything now, he must have been waiting for my call for a while. It was pretty late, I shouldn’t call him, maybe text him to see if he’s awake? I had now completely forgotten that anxious episode I had throughout the day and felt more excited than anything for tomorrow.

 You: That was a wild ride, you did look cute on that picture. Your friend too, but don’t tell him, I prefer tattooed men 👀

You: It’s alright if he saw, it wasn’t a nude or anything…

You: At least not yet pardner, not yet 🤠

 I stopped writing when I saw he was writing, deleting the messages I had started.

 Trafalgar Law 😷: Can I call you?

 My answer was to call him, I did not think twice. I was in the dark, under my covers, exhausted from the day, and I acted impulsively. He did not waste time and picked up quickly,

 “That was fast, are you that bored or that desperate?”

Laughing, I huffed loud enough so he’d hear, “How about we start with a good evening?” it made him laugh as I heard him move, it was followed by the sound of something hitting the ground a few times before a grunt escaped Law’s lips.

“Here, come, that’s it boy, good, sleep. Good evening, I think we need to talk about something,” he started, the feeling in my stomach turning from excitement to panic. I had guessed the first words weren’t addressed to me and didn’t comment on it.

“Ominous much? But go ahead… And give Bepo a good pet from me, please.” I told him slightly hoping he wouldn’t hear how stressed I had now become.

 “Just to be clear, I did not ignore you, I passed out. I don’t want you to think I’m a bastard or something like that, I had a very long night. They always end up with a huge night rest, I think this surgery lasted 10 hours-“ He cut himself off, mumbling it wasn’t important and whispering to his dog that I was sending him some cuddles.

 I turned on the side and thought about it for a moment, “I didn’t think you were a bastard, I was nervous for no reason. I did regret sending the picture at first, but you enjoyed it so it’s cool, cool, cool… Nami shouldn’t have called Luffy for so little, but she did uh..” There was a short silence, I could hear Law’s breath on the other end of the line, he must have been thinking of a topic to talk about too.

 “If you want, you can talk about your day. I’d love to hear it- if you can, I think you swore an oath or something so I don’t know if you can- or if you want, I’m not pressuring you, but don’t force yourself to not talk about your work. I’m all ears,” I said quickly, mumbling at the end that I might fall asleep though.

 Chuckling tiredly, the phone rubbed against some fabric and I heard Law’s voice a lot lower and less clearly. “I think I’ll go to sleep, as much as I want to talk about that beautiful picture you sent… of how tempting it looks, how tempting it would be to slowly caress your exposed neck and to kiss it softly, making it sensitive just from my touch, leaving hickey on the way for the world to see- god I’m sure you’d make the most beautiful sounds-“

 I laughed nervously, not letting him finish as I spoke up, “That is for you to find out tomorrow… if you can get them out of me, that is. You’re clearly a goner, do you hear yourself? Fantasizing about me like that, you’re lucky this isn’t a competition, or you’d have lost.” I said jokingly, but it made Law react a lot more than I thought it would. I think he sat up, that’s all I could think of from the sound I heard.

 “You do realize that all I have to do is bring you to your-“ He cleared his throat before continuing, a lot calmer than a second ago when he was speaking as if I had stepped on his pride. “I am not going to argue, because we both know the moment we’re alone at my place, you won’t be able to hold back. I did promise a good fuck, I intend on keeping that promise, don’t worry about it,” I could hear the smug smile behind the screen, it made me roll my eyes. Yes, I was alone, and there was no one to see this reaction, but it was necessary.

 “The more you talk about it, the higher the expectations get, careful there partner.” I replied teasingly, it actually earned me a sincere laugh from Law who I assumed had now laid back on his bed from the shuffle I heard again. It was followed by a grunt, and a muffled ‘Soon, can I at least say good night to her? Jealous boy, come on sleep.’ There was a weak whine then a huffed laugh before I could finally hear him clearly.

 “I’ll make it worth it, don’t worry. I have plans for tomorrow, would knowing what’s going to happen tomorrow ease your stress or should I keep it a surprise?” I was surprised by how kind he sounded, he seemed to genuinely care about how I felt, so I told him surprises were cool, but I’d like to know what the plans for tomorrow were. At least I knew what to expect.

 “In this order, I’ll come get you, we’ll go by my place because you’re intimidated by my outfit-“ I cut him off, hissing through the phone playfully.

“Oh fuck off, I did not say that, you can dress in a military uniform for all I care, it wouldn’t do anything because I know you sleep with your dog, you’re not scary,”

A short chuckle reached my ears, “So it’s a uniform kink, not just a doctor one. Duly noted, well after that we’ll go the center and get some food at a place, I know has a large variety of things. I didn’t know if you had a special diet or restrictions, so I thought…”

 He trailed off, as if unsure of his choice, “It’s very sweet of you, thank you for that but fuck you at the same time for the uniform part, you know?”

It made him laugh loudly, then he continued, “Depending on how late we finish, I think we could either go see a movie or go straight to my place, it’ll also depend on how riled up you’ll be by then-“

 This time I was the one who laughed loudly, and suddenly.  “You’re unbelievable! Your plan is to get me- you know we could just meet at your place and fuck then be done with it.” I said that, but I liked what he was doing. It was very appealing to have someone this assertive, or perhaps was it arrogance? I couldn’t know if it was all show until I had a proof of what he was capable. I was aware of his… silver tongue, but then again, the first time it happened, my situation was different.

 The first time I talked to him, my state of mind was a lot more biased than it was now. I was, for lack of better words, horny to no extent which may have had a play in the effects his words had on me. “Where’s the fun in that? I think I’ll have you begging first, then I’ll fuck you, isn’t it more entertaining like that?”

“And they say romance is dead, here thought you wanted to spend quality time with me because you appreciated my personality,” I said in a fake dramatic tone, laced with sleepiness. I wanted to keep talking to him, but I was slowly falling asleep, and we must have both realized at the same time, how sleepy we were.

 “You should rest, so should I. I’ll pick you up tomorrow at 2pm, and if I can be honest…” he trailed off once more, his speech a lot slower and less clear than all the times he talked to me. Or perhaps my own brain was slowing it down, because I was falling asleep too. “I’ll probably be as nervous as you are, I don’t usually go on dates, I’m new to all this. So, if you really don’t want to go out to eat, tell me and we’ll change plans.”

 “I’m good with it, as long as I’m the one paying this time, mmm… yeah because… two times ‘s a lot.” I mumbled, bringing the covers closer to me, cocooning myself with it. I think he told me something in return, but my tired mind shut off, I don’t remember much afterwards but I know I hung up and I know he talked about Bepo for a moment, but I couldn’t remember anything else.

 Even though I fell asleep quickly, it didn’t last long. I woke up at some point during the night, only to realize my phone wasn’t charged when I picked it up for the flashlight to light my way to the bathroom. When I got back to bed, I checked if I had any messages on Discord, I had forgotten to check after my discussion with Law, and was pleasantly surprised to see not only that he was online but he had answered.

 HandSurgeon: Not a fan of the attitude you gave me, do you think I’d be talking about tying you up if I did not have the skills to do so?

HandSurgeon: I think you just want to see what I can do, but if that’s what you want, you’ll have to ask nicely.

HandSurgeon: And when I say nicely, I mean, very nicely to cover up the underlying sass of your messages.

HandSurgeon: Now, it does require skillfulness, and I do have to be careful, but do not worry, I know exactly what I’m doing. Then again, I still think you’d look great with a collar which would be easier thing to obtain than it’d be for me to tie you up through a screen.

 I smiled at his message, I was not planning on meeting the guy in real life, but it was nice to talk about it and it gave me things to dream about. If not, to fantasize about.

 Edelweiss: Nooo, there was no brattiness, I swear. I’m sorry if that’s how you it seemed, I was just so exhausted I spurred the words out as they came to my mind

Edelweiss: I’m never wearing a collar in public, that might be your thing but what happens in the bedroom, stays in the bedroom

Edelweiss: But… I would love to see what you can do, please, sir.

HandSurgeon: Why are you awake? I think you should be asleep, not coming here to see if I can entertain your creative mind.

Edelweiss: I can’t sleep, got plans tomorrow and I’m nervous but it’ll be alright!

 It’s true, I couldn’t go back to sleep now. The buzzing inside me made sure of it. But it was weird, I felt agitated but also tired, my mind did not care about how tired my body felt, it was dead set on keeping me awake.

 HandSurgeon: Very well then. First, I would never have you wear a collar in public. They did not agree to see that, but I would be more than pleased to be able to pull you closer and grip your jaw tightly while kissing you. The most the public would see, would be the hickeys I’d have left on your neck. Because those are the prettiest of necklace, aren’t they?

HandSurgeon: But the collar? All in the comfort of your bedroom, of course. Now about that shibari, it would take some time to get it done, but I’ll do some ties on my leg.

 I wanted to go back to sleep, to be fully rested for tomorrow, but I was also curious about what it’d look like. Was he going to do it over his clothes or was I going to catch a glimpse of his legs? Once again, I felt like a person from the Victorian Era, eager to see the smallest part of his skin.

 Edelweiss: well if you put it like that… the idea does not sound half bad, and I could give it a thought as time goes by

Edelweiss: Say, why are you not asleep?

HandSurgeon: Big day tomorrow too, I have things to do. But I do not mind the distraction, I can text and tie at the same time, don’t worry.

 So, we did, we chatted casually, both answering slowly. Him, because he was busying tying, and me because my eyelids were closing longer than just a blink. He vaguely talked about his long night, the night prior, and how even though he has most of the day free tomorrow he still had to go there to check up on patients.

 I banished the thought that crossed my mind, it connected to that stupid heated dreams I had of being fucked on a hospital bed. I wondered for a sec how it’d be like to have him check up on me, his slender hands checking my pulse, as he looked down at me in all seriousness. I hadn’t realized I was now imagining Law doing that, I shook the thought away. This was not good, I couldn’t mix them up, nor could I keep fetishizing the poor man’s job.

 Sighing, I closed my eyes once more, only peeking with one eye open at the screen.

 HandSurgeon: [sent an attachment]

HandSurgeon: I’ll admit, doing this relaxed me a lot, I might go to sleep, dear. But now you know, I’m not all talk, you better remember that.

Edelweiss: I want to compliment how good it is, because it is good, but uh

Edelweiss: I’m respectfully looking at those thighs, only respectfully because I don’t want to seem horny but like

Edelweiss: Too tired to rant on how fucking hot it actually is, I’ll give a proper hot feedback tomorrow

HandSurgeon: I’ll take the compliments; However, those knots will be around your thighs. Don’t you forget it. Now, sleep well, have fun tomorrow, if not, I’ll be there.

Edelweiss: good night! Sweet dreams

This time I fell asleep until morning, it wasn’t a restful night. While I did not wake up through the night after that little interlude of texting HandSurgeon, I was still very excited for today. I hardly had any free time, and hardly went on dates either. Both of them together put this entire situation out of my comfort zone, but it was thrilling. I knew it was going to be enjoyable, up until now I never had any problem with Law, why would it start now? Right?

 As I got dressed to get to class, I made sure to not make it too much nor not enough. I had to put the minimum effort at least, but not like I was going to a big fancy party. It was casual. But make sure it’s easy to remove, because you’re getting laid today, a little voice echoed in my head. I tilted my head to the side, turning around quickly to take a good look at my outfit and changed my shoes to something easier to take off, then left my room.

 Just like every morning, Robin and Nami were ready and discussing in the kitchen, having already prepared breakfast. I tried to tell them I felt too nervous to eat, but it didn’t go through, they sat me down and had me eat as much as I could. Nami argued it was necessary, since I’d be needing a lot of energy if planned on, and I quote “getting dicked down good”.

 For once, I did not rush out of the apartment and Nami did not have to threaten me to hurry, it was all going smoothly. We talked about what were our plans for today, I tried to pry information about her day out of her, but she insisted I’d tell her everything. She even asked for addresses, but I told her I did not know the place, and even if I did, I was not planning on having a stalker like her by my side. She only huffed in response before resuming her questioning.

 The moment she parked, I rushed out of her car and waved at her, telling her I’d be sure to call her if anything happened. “I mean anything bad, but if it’s like…. Good, I sure as hell ain’t caling, I’ll be enjoying it thoroughly.” I then brought the tip of my fingers to my lips, making a kissing gesture before splaying them away, like a chef kiss. She made a grimace, but then laughed, telling me to be safe and use protection.

 That earned us a few looks from the people on the parking lot, but I ignored it and went on about my day. I didn’t receive any messages during the day, considering how late I had talked to HandSurgeon, I had guessed he must have been asleep. As for Law, we had said what was needed last night too, I knew to expect him on the parking lot around 2 pm, until then I’d have to focus on my classes.

 Surprisingly I was able to focus, so much that I did not see time pass. I exchanged a few messages with Law during the day, one time in the morning, where he made sure I had woken up, it made me laugh and I replied with a picture of the auditorium.

 Later that day, when I told him I might finish early, he was the one to reply with a picture of his desk and computer where he blurred the info. He said he would try his best to be there earlier, but couldn’t promise anything.

 When I did finish earlier, about half an hour earlier, I sent him a text.

 You: Hey, I am done for today, if you’d like I can come by

You: that way you won’t have to make a detour to come and get me

You: I think your hospital isn’t far from campus, I don’t mind the walk

Trafalgar Law 😷: I am almost done, but if you’d like you can come by. Only if you’re sure it’s safe.

Trafalgar Law 😷: Actually, call me while coming here, I’ll guide you once you’re there, but you’re not walking alone.

You: It’s not dark, I’ll be fine, I know where the hospital is haha

Trafalgar Law 😷: [incoming call]

 I laughed as I picked up, already on my way to the big building. “Maybe you should focus on your work instead of me? Unless you’re that desperate?” I hope he understood my jab at his words last night. His fake laugh made me understand he did.

“I can fill in paperwork and be on the phone at the same time, it’s called being productive. And making sure you’re safe.” His voice was slightly further away from the microphone than usual, which meant he was on speaker and busying himself at the same time.

 Not arguing back, I stayed on the phone, only making small talk to not disturb him. I did mess around, telling him things like, “Crossing the pedestrian crossing, there’s a baby giving me weird looks though.” He laughed but didn’t say anything, so I went “There’s a couple of old people, hopefully they won’t hit me up, I would hate to turn them down.” It made him laugh again, this time he answered, “Well, you are into older men, are you not? Invite them, see what they say,” It made me snort ungracefully, I did not expect that answer but kept the conversation going like that until I reached the hospital.

 When I did, he did as he said he would and guided me inside. I was hesitant at first to go in, but he said nothing would happen, it was a public building after all. Halfway through his instructions, I met his blond friend and told him, he groaned and told me to ask him to guide me to his office, which he did without thinking twice about it.

 Law insisted I’d stay on the phone during that time, but his friend, I later learnt his name was Rosinante, grabbed my phone and hung up. “I’ll try my best to keep people out of his office, you do what you want with him- it’s not technically allowed but, you know, you gotta do what you gotta do.”

I gave him a confused look, he mirrored it, probably not understanding my confusion.

 Squinting my eyes, I started, “We’re going on a date, I… He just needs to finish some things-“ “OH! I thought you two were going to…” he brought the tip of his two index fingers against one another, then winked.

I was about to tell him that, no, this was not part of the plan right now. Sure, at his place, probably, but not here. Before I could do so, I saw Law make his way out of a glass door to reach both Rosinante and I, giving the taller man a deadly glare.

 “Come on, don’t give me that look, I didn’t say anything, right?” The blond man looked down at me with a huge grin, so I played along, he hadn’t said much except trying to be a good wingman and… give Law and I ‘alone time’. “Nah, he was fine. Unfortunately, none of your dirty secret has been spilled- dare I say, sadly.” I joked before bidding Rosinante goodbye and following Law to his office without any other words being exchanged.

 When we were inside his office, he closed the door and pointed at the seats by the window, telling me I could sit there. He then made his way to his desk and gave me a look when I simply stood at the entrance, confused. On my right was the toilets, if I walked further in, Law’s desk was on the right and the seats right in front of me, rugs decorating the tiled floor. “Are you going to take a seat?”

 It happened to fast in my mind, I don’t why I did that, I don’t know why I did not take a seat and waited. Perhaps waiting that long, just to get a taste at the man, was too much for my stupid brain. Whatever the reason was, I put my bag down and walked up to him. Turning around, on his chair, he raised a brow, a hand still resting on the desk. “What if I want to sit here,” the confidence I had on my way to him, for those few seconds, had long since diminished and the words that left my mouth were said in a lower tone that how it began. I gave him a look, then down at his lap, before looking up at him again.

 I had placed my hand on the desk, to not show how my hands were shaking from how far out of my comfort zone this was. I tried hard not to look away, Law was taking longer to answer. By longer, it was simply a few seconds instead of saying yes right away, and that made me hesitate.

 Then he smiled, he tried to hold back a grin as he leaned back on his chair. “That’s bold. But then again, I knew you wouldn’t be able to hold back until then. The first time we met you already seemed on edge, so,” He patted his lap a few times, then gently grabbed my hand that was gripping the desk tightly, I stepped closer and placed both of my legs on either side of the chair so that my weight wasn’t fully on him but on my legs too. I kept my eyes on his, the whole time, until I felt him press his hands on the back of my thighs to have me rest fully on his lap.

 “Don’t be shy, show me how much you want it. You said you wanted to sit, so sit.” He whispered, a smug smile on his lips. While his face had turned slightly redder, he wasn’t letting it show that he was embarrassed, if he even was. “Are you going to keep staring, or are you going to make it fun?” The moments those words left his lips, I cradled his face in my hands and kissed him with greed. He smiled into the kiss, before gripping my waist strongly and pulling me closer to him. I let my hands move to the back of his neck, gripping a fistful of his hair.

 He groaned out loud, breaking the kiss to give me a hungry look, I looked down at him, mirroring his proud smirk. “Does this mean we skip dinner and go straight to my place?” he breathed against my lips, leaving kisses from my jaw to my neck, where he stayed a bit longer. I felt his warm tongue touch my skin and couldn’t help but laugh, thinking that he did not waste time to attack my neck. He stopped, humming curiously. “I am definitely up to go straight to your place, but I also want a taste of what I’m going to get once there…” I said next to his ear, grazing my teeth against it as my hands slid to his pants to untuck his shirt.

 Chuckling, he stopped moving and leaned back, his hands on my thighs as he looked at me struggling to unbutton his shirt. “You’re so eager, and to think you thought you’d be able to stay with me an entire day without wanting to fuck me.” He grinned, his nails digging inside my clothes as he trailed them to my ass and grabbed it, pulling me closer. When I finally managed to open his shirt, I looked up at him and we both understood what was happening and suddenly stopped everything.

 I couldn’t believe this was happening to me.

[Part 8]

#words of pleasure #trafalgardwaterlaw #one piece trafalgar law #trafalgar one piece #trafalgar law #trafalgar law x reader #One piece law #law x reader #law one piece #wop #AO3 #ao3 writer #writings #fanfiction #archiveofourown #physicalturian #physicalturian AO3

[maxwell-grant]

The crossover fic + learning he's a favorite of yours has me curious: do you think it would be possible to tell a satisfactory Shadow vs. Mr. Mxyzptlk story? I think he'd fit surprisingly well in that milieu as a credible threat: he's something of an older, mistier, shadowy world, kin to fairies and elves and imps, pixies and sprites and genies, bound by old laws and dressed like a parody of 20s/30s class, beyond The Shadow's usual powers and yet...THAT. There a thematic in to this throwdown?

I had never actually thought of Mxy in that light, even though it's very much in line with what he is, because Mxy is one of those characters I don't tend to think about much. He's one of those ready-made perfect villains who pretty much guarantees a fun and creative time whenever he pops up uninvented. Like The Ventriloquist for Batman, he is so uniquely a product of how Superman works and what his stories allow for, that I can't say I ever thought of taking him for a spin outside of them. But there's definitely stuff to work with in putting him and The Shadow together.

Come to think of it, if there's a Superman villain I think Walter Gibson would have liked to play around with, it would be Mxyzptlk. Mxy stories are fundamentally about Superman being thrust into a position where his only way out is to solve puzzles and turn the tables using nothing but his wits, and Gibson spent the majority of his career before and after The Shadow as a writer of books on magic and puzzles, both of which show up a lot in The Shadow stories. You see it even in several covers which contained clues for the stories within.

To an extent, you could argue that The Shadow might figure out quicker a way to trick Mxy, because The Shadow's already has to utilize a constant amount of trickery and deceit and puzzle-solving in his daily adventures, it comprises almost the majority of what his stories are about under Gibson. The usual Mxyzptlk narrative is one that's well within The Shadow's domain.

But on the other hand, it's definitely some extremely unusual territory for The Shadow, villain-wise. A villain who eclipses his powers and scope to such an extent is completely unheard of. The one time I can think of where he fought a villain this weird and who he was completely powerless against was when he met Suven The Clown King of Venus (who's definitely a character that could show up in this meeting), and even then Suven was just a weird alien who looked gigantic next to the shrunken Shadow. Even on the few occasions where The Shadow encountered other aliens or eldritch monsters, he was able to find a way to stop the threat for the moment or even kill it, which is definitely not happening here, because Mxy is a whole other level.

Superman has the strength and endurance and superpowers to roll with whatever mayhem Mxy throws his way. If Mxy decides that The Shadow’s looking too pale so he's gonna give him a tan by throwing him in the sun, what the hell is he gonna do to stop him? I imagine that Mxy would likely take a different approach to messing with The Shadow, since he can't tank nukes like Supes and he's not really a good sport about the game. 

Fine, whatever, Mxy's a creative sort, he's got a couple of ideas for messing around with Mr Grim-n-Serious over there, show him what an Eldritch Monster looks like past the squid monsters and dragons he may have met.

The idea I'm getting here is, on one hand, Mxy attacking The Shadow with the usual goofiness he brings with him. And on the other, him realizing that messing with The Shadow's dignity isn't as fun as he thought he'd be, so he instead goes full SCP Foundation/Awful Hospital/Ice Cream Man on The Shadow until he's stopped, trapping him in amusing and horrifying eldritch nightmares and situations that he has absolutely no way to escape until he solves the puzzle. 

I mean, he's not fighting Superman here, he can kill this guy with a blink, even just stopping his heart with a thought. No fun in that. He's gotta beat the "Master of Darkness" at his own game. He's got a point to prove.

I imagine that much of the story would play out of The Shadow having to piece together what exactly has gone topsy-turvy in his reality, whether it's Commissioner Weston eating spiders for breakfest or the entirety of Manhattan sans him going blind and all lights going out across the country. And when Mxy comes out with that shrill SURPROISE!!!, assuming The Shadow already knows what he needs to do, then he falls for whatever gambit The Shadow's had to cook up to trick him. 

At the end, Mxy is an arrogant bully who lords power over those that can't fight back, and The Shadow's a master of beating those by turning their arrogance against them. It's Duck Amuck, except Bugs is a mind-breaking sadist and Daffy has to fight back.

I imagine something akin to a particularly funny scene from a story called Face of Doom, where a gangster traps The Shadow in a room surrounded by armed henchman so he can enlist him into taking down the city's leading criminal, The Face. The Shadow unmasks himself as Cranston to gain his trust, and the two proceed to talk plans. I'll post the sequence below

Calmly, The Shadow was removing his slouch hat. His arms spread, the black cloak began to drop from his shoulders. Clipper's nervousness changed to elation. If ever a criminal fooled himself, Clipper did so at that moment.

Though The Shadow voiced no agreement to Clipper's offer, the crook was confident that it was sealed. The Shadow was taking a step that no other criminal had ever witnessed.

When Clipper's squinty eyes saw the hawkish features of Lamont Cranston, the crook displayed another of his downward grins. There wasn't any question about the prisoner really being The Shadow.

"A ritzy mug, ain't you?" voiced Clipper. "Well, that makes you the real McCoy. One thing we'd all figured, Shadow — we guessed you was a high-hat guy.

"'You don't get out of here until The Face is croaked! Say, though — maybe one of your ritzy friends could put up a good front with The Face."

"There are others, who might serve. I have agents, you know."

A shrewd gleam brought new ugliness to Clipper's eyes. He had heard of The Shadow's agents. It would be smart stuff—using them to get The Face, then disposing of them afterward. Clipper couldn't hide the eagerness that betrayed his new scheme.

"Good stuff," agreed Clipper. "But how am I going to reach those guys and get them to work with me? They only take orders from you, don't they?"

In reply, Clipper saw Cranston pick up the black cloak and hat. He handed the garments to the crook. For the moment, Clipper was puzzled; then he saw Cranston's hand extend the discarded gloves.

"I get it," chuckled Clipper. "You want me to rig up like I was you. Then the guys that work for you will listen to me. How do you handle them—with some password?"

"Usually," replied The Shadow. "Try on the cloak and hat first, Clipper. I must study the appearance that you make."

It seemed like a give-away of The Shadow's game. Any one could stage this Shadow stuff. All he had to do was masquerade in black, spring a shivery laugh, and shoot quick with his guns. If Cranston could pull it, Clipper could.

The Shadow spends a couple of paragraphs calmly walking Clipper through the steps necessary to pull off a convincing Shadow performance, almost like he's directing him. And then this happens:

The back of Clipper's neck was exposed. Though The Shadow's voice was still the leisurely tone of Cranston, his left hand had lost its laziness. Behind Clipper's back, that fist whipped an automatic from a shoulder holster. Clipper didn't scent the move until the muzzle of the .45 iced his neck.

"It won't work, Shadow," rasped Clipper. "You know it as well as I do! One pop from that gat of yours, the mob will pile in and croak you! There's a wicket in that door; they'll use it!"

The Shadow had shifted low behind Clipper's back. The crook could no longer observe the reflection of Cranston's face. He could still feel the pressure of the gun muzzle on his flesh. "Climb off my neck, Shadow," warned Clipper. "It ain't getting you nowhere!"

It was getting The Shadow further than Clipper guessed. The gun muzzle was actually gone from Clipper's neck. His impression that it rested there was merely an after effect, from former pressure.

Crouched low, The Shadow had now reached the door. Before Clipper guessed what was up, The Shadow twisted the door knob. Wrenching the door inward, he pulled himself behind it.

At the same moment, The Shadow snapped a quick command, in a rasp that resembled Clipper's own harsh tone:

"The Shadow's yours, gang! Croak him!"

It ends for Clipper about as well as you'd expect.

One of the things I like most about Mxy is that you can't take shortcuts with him. It's not like how it is with Riddler stories, where you can half-ass the riddles because you know Batman's gonna win once he touches Riddler and the story's gonna end in a punch-up, Mxyzptlk is completely invincible unless you solve the puzzle he presents, and you'd think of course that, surely, he can't fall for it this time.

He's a wise guy, see, he's seen all of Superman's tricks by now, and what's that dumb old Shadow gonna do that he can't see a mile away? This is almost too easy.

It's so easy, in fact, that The Shadow even agrees, he's lost it completely, and the way he could possibly beat Mxyzptlk is by calling one of his agents to save him, and he's prepared a list of some of his smartest, cleverest agents for this moment. But, no, he wouldn't dare put them in such danger against this invincible, immortal genius, someone has to take this list from him and run, but ZOINKS, Mxy's taken the list. So he's gonna start seeing who is it that the Shadda thinks is smart enough to take him.

Clyde BurKe? Like some dimestore journalist's gonna have a shot, just cause he solves crossword puzzles. Lamont Cranston, yeah, more like, LAMEONT CRANSTON. Harry VincenT, who, the dumb kid who tried jumping off a bridge once? Come on, you gotta give me a hand here, Shadda! Let's see, Pietro, what, some cook? Ya kidding? Moe ShrevnitZ...actually, Shrevy's allright, scratch that one. ShrevY, hey, come on, that's cheating, ya just put Shrevnitz's name again, ya dum-dum. Mr Xanadu, hmm, catchy name but probably not a real guy. And Margo Lane. Yeah, smart dame that one, she could probably figger something out. And ya keep writing everyone's name's weird - WAIT

I KNOW WHAT YER TRYING TO DO HERE.

I KNOW YOU GOT SOME CLEVER SCHEME HERE, I'D SEEN THIS BEFORE, IT'S AN OLD TRICK.

YOU EMPHASIZED THE LETTERS SO THE REAL SMARTEST GUY YOU KNOW WOULD BE HIDDEN WITHIN THEM, SO THAT SOMEONE ELSE COULD FIND HIM.

HAH, THAT'S RICH. THAT'S KID'S PLAY. WHAT, YOU THINK I CAN'T FIND THIS

KLTPZYXM

BY MYSELF?

.

.

.

aw crickets...

#replies tag #superman #the shadow #mr mxyzptlk #dc comics #comic books #pulp heroes #bogleech

[forgottenpasta]

Dulce Periculum Pt. 1

Summary: Devious and devilish, your two new impish hybrids never miss a chance to torment you for your hopeless attraction to them, knowing exactly what they do to you. But is sly sexuality and enigmatic allure all there is to the tiger and wolf hybrid, or do the depths of their eyes hide something more for you? Part 1/2.

Genre: Smut, Angst, Fluff

Word Count: 7.2k

Pairings: Tiger Hybrid!Taehyung x Reader X Wolf Hybrid!Jeongguk

Warnings: Taehyung and Jeongguk have no shame, arrogance galore, filthy smut in part 2, swearing, mentions of blood, mild violence, anime style nosebleeds.

Part 1 | Part 2 (complete)

A/n: Enjoy!

****

The sickening sound of Jeongguk’s foot connecting  with the bear hybrid’s face in what was a flawless display of a spinning wheel kick made you flinch in your seat. The crunch of bones breaking could be heard by even your inferior human ears. The hulking bear hybrid went down like a sack of potatoes, hitting the hard floor of the ring with a dull thud.

Jeongguk huffed out a laugh as he assumed a neutral position, wiping a hand down his sweat soaked washboard abs as he smirked down at the hybrid who was clutching his jaw with both his hands. “I thought bears were supposed to be aggressive in the ring and shit. You fight like a pussy.”

The man on the floor groaned in pain and anger, but try as he might he couldn’t get up, the rivulets of blood dripping down his nose, staining his hands and white of the ring floor indication enough of the result of the fight, but just so it was clear enough the bear hybrid tapped out nonetheless.

Jeongguk rolled his eyes, taking a deep breath to control his laboured breathing. “Put a band-aid on it and stop whining. It’ll be back to normal by tomorrow.”

“Does he really have to do that?”, you mused out loud from where you sat on the bench beside the fighting rings. You watched Jeongguk help the hybrid stand up. “I get that he’s the trainer, the teacher and all that but still. His words make me feel like a pathetic fighter and I’m not even in the ring with him.”

You hadn’t really expected a response from your bench co-occupant, seeing as ignoring you was the norm with the tiger hybrid, hence the snort startled you into turning your head to stare at him.

“That’s because you are a pathetic fighter.” Taehyung  didn’t look at you, busy scrolling through his twitter feed on his phone.

Despite your resolve, which you had tried so hard to harden ever since the two insanely attractive hybrids had come into your life, you found yourself sighing. And it wasn’t a frustrated sigh either, as it should have been considering his totally unwarranted barb about your non-existent fighting skills, it was the dreamy kind. You didn’t understand how he made slouching on a bench,  bored out of his mind while staring blankly at his phone look like a cover spread straight out of a bougie magazine. He unintentionally modelled every little thing he did, like right now you could take a picture of him and photoshop an ad of the device in his hand and no one would blink an eye. You could understand why so many brands clamoured to get him to model for them, though he was particularly picky and selective about who to lend his divinely handsome face to.

“Thanks, Tae.”, you replied, because what did you say to that really? You were always hard pressed to come up with a clever response whenever one of them were in close proximity to you. You swore up and down you were a quick witted person when your two new hybrids weren’t there to cloud your confidence with their sex-on-legs charm and mysterious aura.

“Don’t mention it, Owner. I’m always here to offer you some encouraging words.”, Taehyung muttered with a straight face, his striped tail swishing languidly beside him.

A shiver ran through you, even though the temperature in the gym was completely normal.

Owner. You had told them countless times to call you by your name ever since they came into your life three weeks ago, but every time you did they just smiled at you and went right back to calling you owner. You were convinced they got their kicks off watching you turn red or sputter or stumble all over yourself whenever one of them uttered the word. They knew what effect it had on you and they revelled in it.

You were about to ask him for the nth time not to call you that when the brownish orange ears atop his head twitched and he looked up. You followed suit, making eye contact with your wolf hybrid sauntering towards the two of you with a lazy grin on his face.

Shirtless. Sweatpants riding low. Underwear band showing above the top of the waistband of his sweats. Long hair wet from a shower. Fuck.

From the amused expression on Taehyung’s face you knew he could hear your thundering heartbeat.

“Don’t go getting a heart attack now, Owner. Who’s gonna feed us if we lose you?”

Jeongguk took that moment to reach the two of you. “Who’s getting a heart attack?”, he asked, pulling out a towel from his duffel bag beside the bench and towel drying his hair with it in that way guys did that should not look hot but did.

“No one. Are you ready to go?”, you diverted the conversation, willingly breathing deeply to tame your heartbeat. You did not need their ribbing over your obvious attraction to them right now.

“Yeah, just need to clock out for the weekend. Then we’re driving down to Lean Raw to have lunch.”, Jeongguk informed, chuckling when you made a face at the suggestion. The restaurant he was talking about only served tasteless “healthy food”, no sight of grease or artery-choking deliciousness anywhere.

“We went there last Friday as well.”, you complained under your breath, getting up to follow both of them out of the gym, trying not to stare at Jeongguk’s flexing back muscles as he pulled on a white T-shirt that might as well be see-through, his sleek yet fluffy dark grey wolf tail swaying gracefully behind him.

Jeongguk turned back and you quickly averted your eyes, feigning immense interest in the potted plants lining the gym’s exit.

“You should thank me then. I’m making you eat healthy at least once a week.”

“I eat fine. Not my fault normal is not upto your standards.”, you mumbled as you all reached his black Mercedes parked in the small parking lot for gym employees.

“If you consider subway sandwiches and Chinese takeout six days a week normal, Owner, then you’re asking for that heart attack you were about to get back in there.”, he quipped, winking at Taehyung when the elder hybrid’s amusement broke for a laugh at the stricken look on your face.  

You hurried to duck inside the car, going for the spacious backseat because they never let you drive when one of them were with you, even when you insisted to take your own humble and ancient Honda Accord. Taehyung got in the passenger seat and Jeonnguk in the driver’s, smoothly pulling out onto the road.

Seeing you three together the way you were, it was hard to figure out whether you owned the hybrids or if it was the other way round. People never believed you when you told them the two luxurious, predator hybrids were yours. And they wouldn’t have been had your great-aunt, who remained unmarried throughout her life and amassed a considerable wealth writing books about hybrids, had not unexpectedly died by slipping in her apartment-sized bathroom and breaking her head open on the corner of a marble countertop. Even more unexpectedly, she had willed the two hybrids that she had raised since they were teenagers to you of all people and all her wealth to them. You often thought that she must have had no idea that she’d die so suddenly and unexpectedly, because her will have to have been an interim joke while she figured out exactly who to actually give responsibility of her hybrids to in case of her death.

Or maybe she thought you were the only one who’d not try to extort the wealth she had endowed on her two “kids”. Technically, hybrid inheritance and property laws still prohibited ownership of property by hybrids if their owner hadn’t sanctioned it or gifted it to them, and in the eyes of law everything that belonged to the hybrids belonged to their owners as well. In your opinion, it was well past time such medieval and discriminatory laws were repealed but it didn’t matter anyway because your timid, tongue-tied self was incapable of extorting even an unwilling apology or “thank you” from the two spoiled hybrids, let alone their money.

Maybe your great-aunt was a genius. She knew exactly who would never be willing or able to curb her hybrids’ freedom.

“You guys are so mean.”, you pouted, looking out the window at the slow-passing buildings and dramatically leaning your head against the glass like you were a pitiful, wronged protagonist of an angsty movie.

“You’re just so prone to even a little bit of teasing, Owner. You get all nervous and fidgety, it’s honestly so funny to watch.”, Jeongguk supplied helpfully.

You rolled your eyes. “Glad I could entertain, but stop calling me owner, please. Just call me ___.”

Taehyung smirked at you from the review mirror. “As you wish, Owner.”

Giving up with a huff, you slipped in your earbuds to effectively shut out their teasing and showcase your disgruntlement. The name was an irony at this point, an oxymoron, because you anything but owned them. They had known what effect they had on you from the moment you’d first met them in your great-aunt’s lawyer’s office. You’d given away all your cards from the first meting like the inexperienced, naive idiot you were. You’d toppled over the carpet because you were staring at Taehyung instead of watching where you were going, signed the wrong documents because Jeongguk had flashed a smile your way and literally broken the glass of the table with a jerk of your knee when you’d felt Jeongguk’s hand accidentally brush your denim covered thigh. Even the lawyer tried to cover up his laughter with coughs and sympathetic looks towards you. In short you had been a rambling, awkward mess at the thought of two of the sexiest men/hybrids you’d ever seen living with you and that day had been marked as the most humiliating one in your life, one you’d likely reminisce for years to come whenever you couldn’t sleep late at night and your brain started playing the movie of all the embarrassing moments of your life. And it would be a long one, because even after three weeks living with them you continued to make a fool out of yourself at every reminder of how out of your league they were and how bad of a crush you had on them.

Even though you had earbuds in, you weren’t actually listening to music, too preoccupied with thoughts of your lameness to press play. You could hear everything when Taehyung and Jeongguk started talking.

“You helping me with the shoot tommorow?”, Taehyung asked him. He had a photoshoot for a luxury watch brand coming up which was going to be featured on multiple billboards and magazines. You always did a double take when you spotted Taehyung’s face around the city, on banners, screens and subway ads, had a hard time believing the same man slept across the hall from you.

“Nah, hyung. Jackson asked me to help him out at the club downtown, one of his bouncers quit recently and you know how the weekend rush is.”

Taehyung chuffed in disappointment, the sound so tiger-like you almost smiled. He couldn’t purr like small cat hybrids could, but his chuffs were so damn adorable it didn’t matter.

“Why don’t you take Owner with you?”, Jeongguk suggested, a small tilt to his lips indicating he was joking. Maybe. Nevertheless you shrunk down in your seat to make yourself as small as possible. You did NOT want to go to one of Taehyung’s photoshoots, for many reasons but mainly because you knew what seeing him in his element would do to you and you had clowned yourself enough to last a life time.

Taehyung frowned, running his long, slender fingers over his bottom lip in contemplation. “I would but I don’t want her to get nosebleeds watching me pose for the camera.”

Death. You wanted it.

Staring wide-eyes at your lap you willed spontaneous combustion to incinerate you right then and there. The nerve of him! He was so fucking arrogant but so fucking…spot on, and he said it with such quiet resignation too, like it was the truth of the matter universally accepted that you would, in fact, get nosebleeds watching him pose. But still, was humility not in fashion anymore? You had half a mind to connect your bluetooth to Jeongguk’s car and blast Humble by Kendrick Lamar.

Jeongguk laughed. “You are a smug motherfucker.”

Taehyung was affronted, he shot the wolf a glare. “That’s ‘You are a smug motherfucker, hyung’ to you, brat. Besides, you have no room to talk after that shirtless, just out-of-the-shower thing you pulled on her back there. You knew what you were doing.”

Jeongguk shrugged shamelessly. “Don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy that as much as I did.”

Enough.

“I can hear you two animals.”, you said hotly, glaring at them as you crossed your arms across your chest.Jeongguk snorted.

“Animals? Thats what the playground bully called me in kindergarten. You gotta come up with something better than that, Owner.”

Taehyung peeked back at you with mischievous eyes, a playful smile on his face. “Aww, Owner, we knew you could hear us. There’s no music playing in those.” He pointed to the earphones you clutched close to your chest. Of course, how could you forget their superior hearing that just outed you in the gym as well. The pissed off glare you’d aimed at him faltered when you noticed his gaze linger on your chest for a second too long but his eyes were back to yours before you could say anything.

“I would love to take you to the shoot with me, you know. Nosebleeds or not.”

His eyes went hooded and his voice dropped an octave lower than it already was, his baritone rich and deep and sensuous. You stilled, involuntarily bracing for whatever he was about to say.

“I would love to let people know who owns me.”

********

Snatching a pristine white paper napkin from the holder, you stuffed it up your nostril, letting it hang from there as you smacked away Taehyung’s hands when he tried to help you.

“You have to tilt your head Owner or the bleeding won’t stop easily.”, he whined, trying to grab your head to make you tilt it. You shrugged him off.

“I don’t need to listen to you. You should be able to see what you did to me.”

“Flawless logic, Owner.”, Jeongguk snickered from where he sat across the two of you. Taehyung had immediately claimed the seat beside you upon entering the restaurant, hovering to make sure you were alright. Jeongguk had also tried to approach you with his hands outstretched but a glare from you had him sitting where he was now.

Taehyung sighed, leaning back in his seat to give you a look of concern but finally leaving you alone. “I was just joking. I had no clue that would happen.”

You didn’t want to talk about yet another one of your now infamous daily embarrassments, not having the willpower to confront your failings at the moment. You changed the subject. “Can we order please? I’m starving.”

Jeongguk signalled for a waitress but kept his eyes on you, a frown coming on to his beautiful features. “Did you skip breakfast again? I made you an omelette and cut up some fruits before leaving for work in the morning.”

“Oh did you?”, you asked sardonically, raising your brows and turning to look pointedly at your tiger hybrid. “I didn’t happen to find it.”

A guilty look crossed Taehyung’s face immediately, his orange and black ears almost folding over on his head. He rushed to explain himself. “I didn’t know it was for her! In my defence I offered to make her some pancakes to compensate but she refused. I did manage to get some cereal in her though.”

You were already speaking before Jeongguk could impart another one of his healthy eating lectures on you. “I was getting late to meet my friend, I didn’t have time to eat.”

The wolf hybrid shook his head in disappointment, making you feel strangely guilty. You were an adult dammit, you didn’t need to explain your eating habits to your own hybrid.

Thankfully the waitress took that moment to come take your order, saving you from any more chastisement from the hunk of muscle and soft fur sitting across from you. But a look towards the cute blonde standing beside your table, bending down low to show her modest cleavage, smiling at your hybrids like she was a kid in a candy store (or a waitress who’d just won the hot customer table lottery), had your mood tumbling right back down in the gutter.

It really shouldn’t have, you should be used to this by now. People, women and men, stared at your hybrids wherever they went, you had first hand witnessed a woman run into a pole whilst almost turning her head 180 degrees to keep staring at Taehyung and Jeongguk. You didn’t blame them, they were a hard pair to ignore. Especially when they were together, they oozed a confidence and charisma so magnetic that along with their otherworldly attractiveness, it tended to leave the people around them slack jawed, awed and/or jealous. But the most befuddling part was that they didn’t have to do anything for it except be themselves. If they noticed the attention on them, they were either used to it or consciously ignored it because you’d never witnessed them giving a fuck about what others thought about them or saw them as, and that just added to their charm even more.

Like now. They were doing nothing out of the ordinary but a sweeping glance around you informed you that almost all women and some men seated inside the healthy-crap selling establishment were either blatantly staring at them or trying to steal glances in between conversation and eating. They turned heads wherever they went, this was nothing new. So why did you feel a headache oncoming?

“Hi, my name is Lea. What can I get you boys?”, the waitress chirped, her million watt smile illuminating your table and worsening your headache.

You sighed in resignation, not at all surprised by your exclusion in her greeting. Whenever you were with your two hybrids, you might as well be thin air, except that one time when that pre-pubescent kid in the park had asked you if you were their maid.  

Jeongguk smiled at her, and you swore even you could hear her heartbeat double up. “Just water, while we decide please. Thank you.”

“Of course.” She wrote something on her notepad, making you scowl. Did she really need to remember something as simple as water? You saw her surreptitiously glance at Taehyung as she made to leave, and apparently the tiger hybrid noticed too, a smirk curling on his lips before he shot her a wink. The waitress stumbled over nothing, almost face planting in someone’s food. Felt good to not be the only one making a fool of herself over the two men. You ignored the irrational irritation simmering deep in you at the sight of one of them semi-flirting with a woman.

They were very respectful towards your home space in terms of never bringing anyone home for the night, even though you hadn’t said anything to the effect, but you were hundred percent sure they more than got their needs fulfilled without you ever coming to know of their escapades, it was impossible that they didn’t, looking the way they did and the sheer number of propositions they got on a daily basis.

You snapped open your menu in search of the least healthy option available when Taehyung addressed you.

“I wasn’t joking about you coming with me to the shoot, you know.”

When you said nothing, he grumbled out, “Owner, I’m talking to you. You look absolutely ridiculous with that napkin stuffed up your nose by the way.”

You gave him the stink eye, ignoring his last quip. “Why do you want me there? You always have your agent and staff with you.”

Jeongguk answered for him, leaning back to rest his arm across the back of the bench in a way that did wonders for his biceps and had you momentarily distracted. “He gets restless when he’s around strangers for a long time. Ideally hyung can manage it but during long shoots it helps when someone he has scented accompanies him.”

“Scented?” You frowned, not understanding. Your knowledge of hybrids was embarrassingly scant and whatever you knew about their behaviours had been acquired in the last three weeks of living with the two.

Jeongguk looked at you, surprised, before sharing a look with Taehyung that you couldn’t quite comprehend. “Um…”

“If you’re worried about getting more nosebleeds, you don’t need to. You can stay in the trailer during the whole thing and I can come get you when I need you.” Taehyung cut off whatever Jeongguk was about to say, speaking to you in a tone that bordered on placating. Pitying.

The mercury was rising on your temper thermometer. One thing you absolutely hated was being pitied. It was bad enough that they knew how you felt about them, how helplessly attracted you were to them. You could even excuse their teasing words and occasional jokes at your expense. But pity, you could not take. An idea formed in your head as you sat there stewing in your vexed emotions.

“No, thank you.”, you snapped, a little more crassly than you perhaps should have but Taehyung’s surprised face was worth it. You normally never spoke in anything but a diffident manner. “I have plans this weekend.”

A frown replaced his surprise rather quickly. “What plans? You didn’t say anything about any plans.”

“You normally stay at home during weekends to read those steamy books you love so much.”, Jeongguk added, looking at you with curiosity. At your shocked face he smiled crookedly and felt the need to further elaborate. “You know the ones with the ripped dudes on the cover.”

You sucked on your tongue, internally enraged but forcing yourself to not react and rise up to his bait. Anger and embarrassment were not a good combination for you, so when you spoke your voice was sharp enough to cut. “How would you know what I “normally” do on weekends? You two have only been living with me three weeks. Don’t presume that you know the first thing about me.“

It was Jeongguk’s turn to look surprised, likely because you’d never spoken to them that way. He shared a glance with Taehyung and because you weren’t looking at him you missed the “tone it down” gesture he made to the younger with his hand and Jeongguk’s subtle nod to it.

The wolf hybrid slowly reached across the table and picked up your hand. Looking contrite, he apologised. “I’m sorry, Owner. You’re absolutely right. I spoke out of turn. Will you please tell us what are your plans for this weekend?”

You almost answered them but the words stalled in your throat when a thought occurred. “Why do you guys want to know?”

Jeongguk looked like he was at a loss for a second. Smoothly, Taehyung picked up your question, saving the younger from coming up with an appropriate excuse. “For security, Owner. We just want to know you’ll be safe. Can you really begrudge us your mere whereabouts when we’ve recently lost our previous owner so easily?”

He knew he was being underhanded playing the dead owner card, but Taehyung had never been one for propriety.

As expected your eyes softened at the mention of your deceased Aunt. You shrugged, giving in. “I’m gonna go clubbing with some friends.”

The truth was you hadn’t been out partying in a long while, hadn’t had an orgasm given to you by someone else in even longer and you felt that this painful attraction to your two hybrids might just be more exasperating because of these factors. A night of drinking, dancing and maybe a good lay just might help. Or not. But you had to try and get over your unrequited crush over your hybrids, who were way out of your league.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t notice how the they had suddenly straightened to give you all of their attention, until Jeongguk broke the silence with a bark. “Who?”

You raised your brows.

He cleared his throat, voice calmer when he repeated. “Who? That girl who works under you? What’s her name? Mary, Maddie, err, Maggie? I can’t remember.”

“My assistant, Masie? Ugh, no. Just some people I’ve been friends with since college I guess.”

They frowned at your vague answer but before they could question you further the waitress returned, a suspicious new sheen of bright red lipstick on her lips which wasn’t there before. Taehyung noticed you roll your eyes at her, making him smile secretively.

Jeongguk turned on his charm on her, something you’d noticed he couldn’t help but do with people,  but you were hundred percent certain what he presented was a front. Like a computer which produced the same output every time you give the same command, no matter who gave it. You could shuffle his interactions with strangers interested in him with each other, and it wouldn’t make any difference. They all fell for it hook, line and sinker.But you didn’t feel like watching him make the poor girl more flustered than she already was today.

You turned your gaze to the menu, tuning out the sound of the waitress going on an in-detail spiel about her favourite dishes available when Jeongguk was gonna order the same thing he did last time.

Taehyung’s shoulder nudged you softly, and you looked up to see his soft smile directed at you. It disarmed you for a second.

He leaned down to whisper in your ear, making you shiver slightly. “Do introduce us to your friends.”

You promptly glanced back at the menu. Hell, no.

********

The next day you found your luck shining on you. Three flyers for a downtown club named Lithium which was offering free drinks for the code printed on them, were stuffed in your mailbox along with other junk.  As usual, when it came to actually going through with your plans you had been dithering, both laziness and your mild agoraphobia making a simple task such as going out with some friends seem like a herculean effort. As if the huge amount of money you’d spent on getting therapy for your anxiety wasn’t reason enough to enjoy your better state of mind once in a while.

You messaged some of your friends, the ones you knew were unlikely to turn down an offer of drinking and partying. Your college friends Naeun and Sooyoung accepted immediately. Giddy with excitement, you spent your day flitting about the house and pampering yourself with every skin care product you owned and scrubbing and waxing yourself down to a polish, not one prickly hair in sight.

It helped that Taehyung was out for his shoot and Jeongguk was out doing god knows what, it’s not like you pried into their lives. Even though it was the more heedful thing to do to know about their whereabouts because if hybrids got into trouble with the authorities out on their own, nobody could save them except their owners. You felt a little relieved that they were prudent enough to wear their collars whenever they were out on their own, though Taehyung wore his wrapped around his wrist like a bracelet.

At the thought of Taehyung you stopped rummaging your closet to rub your chin in contemplation and a little guilt. You could swear he was pouting when he left home this morning for work, looking at you out of the corner of his eyes when it became absolutely apparent that you would not accompany him to the shoot. You also remembered Jeongguk’s soft murmer of appreciation because you’d woken up early to make him breakfast just how he liked, he’d touched your waist lightly while doing so, making you almost drop your plate.

Sighing you glanced back at your closet, your gaze flitting to the deep blue number you’d bought on impulse but never worn. You didn’t feel like you had the confidence to carry risqué clothing, so your more revealing purchases almost always remained untouched in your closet. But you still remembered the happenings of yesterday, you would not pity yourself like they did. Besides, what’s the worst that could happen? Ending up looking like a literal clown was better than making a fool of yourself every other day. You pulled out the deep blue halter dress that moulded to your curves like a second skin and ended at mid-thigh.  

Sooyoung and Naeun brought a bottle of vodka for little prep drinking before you went out. Naeun looked absolutely gorgeous in her slinky black dress and sky-high heels, towering over you as she hugged you. Sooyoung was dressed like she was going to a bdsm club. She was pushing past you to get to the kitchen and pulling out shot glasses before you could even say a word in greeting to her. Naeun and you followed her.

“So who are we getting over?”, Naeun chirped as she grabbed her shot.

“What do you mean?”, you asked nonchalantly, cutting up a melon and getting some salt.

You could feel Naeun stare even though you weren’t looking at her.

“You don’t fool us, ___, we’ve known you since college. You would never willingly go out unless it was absolutely imperative. You’re clearly looking for a distraction.”, Sooyoung gave you a knowing look before downing her first shot like it was water and she a fish.

You laughed, but even to your own ears the sound came out as awkward. “Can’t a girl just let loose with her friends once in a while just for the heck of it.”

Sooyoung exchanged a troubled glance with Naeun, the action reminding you of the subtle glances your two hybrids often exchange with one other, instantly putting a damper on your mood. You were sick of feeling like the butt of some inside joke you were never privy to.

Sooyoung saw your scowl and touched your hand.“We just meant it is unlike you. Even once in a while.”, she assured while reaching for the bottle.Naeun narrowed her eyes at you, making you go tense.

Ever the straightforward one, she never minced her words. She had a reputation for reducing many a guy and girl to tears with her honesty, including you. “I’m sure its got nothing to do with the two hybrids you now own. I saw the pictures in the living room by the way, they’re certainly a sight for sore eyes. Did you fuck them yet?”

You should have expected it but her crass words made you immediately defensive anyhow. “What?! No! I don’t- it’s not like that between us.”

“Between you and them or between them and you?”

“What the fuck does that even mean?” You downed your shot then, already itching to get out there and forget everything happening in your life.

Sooyoung answered for Naeun. “What she means, in Naeun-speak, is if it’s you who wants to keep it “not like that” or them? What’s the tea? C’mon tell us. ”, she imitated your voice, sounding way more annoying than you did. You hoped.

You rolled your eyes on an exasperated sigh. “You guys are looking for “tea” where there is not even a drop of water.”

Naeun pretended to check her one inch glittery gold fake nails. “If that’s so, you don’t mind me asking for their numbers right? It’s been a long time since I’ve been the filling in a sexy hybrid sandwich.”

After a few seconds of you staring at your two friends wide-eyed and them looking at you expectantly, you threw in the towel. “No, I’m not gonna give you their numbers. Can we go already?”

“Sure.”, Sooyoung got up, swinging an arm around your shoulder as she led you to the front door. Naeun followed behind with a smug expression you wanted to slap off. “We’re gonna get you a good lay and you’re gonna forget all about them. Good dick is good dick, no matter where it comes from.”

You made a face. “There’s so much wrong with that sentence.”

******** Club Lithium was jam packed, the weekend crowd clearly evidenced in the long queue of dressed up people that had greeted you outside. You had fully expected to wait outside till your toes went numb in the blue suede pumps you had selected to go along with your dress, but seeing you three approaching the entrance, a bouncer had broken away from his guard at the door to tell you about the random selection for entrants they were doing from people in the line. Which was odd because you hadn’t even joined the queue yet.

You eyed his suspiciously but Sooyoung was jumping at the chance before you could second guess anything, expressing gratitude by bounding upto him to clutch his bicep as he led you all inside.

“I think the girls are doing their job.”, Naeun observed, adjusting her cleavage for maximum potential. You laughed as you entered the club, darkness surrounding you immediately as strobe lights in red and blue occasionally flashed and gave you a glimpse of a crowded dance floor and a bar spanning the entire left side of the club. The mix of bass and thrumming drum beats was already making you itch to move to the rhythm even with just one shot in your system.

You absolutely loved to dance. It didn’t matter that you weren’t all that good at it, you could dance to anything and everything, even silence when you were alone in your apartment with an imaginary song playing in your head. Even if you didn’t find anybody to go home with today, if you were able to dance till your feet hurt you’d consider it a successful night out. Your friends knew this.

Sooyoung took your hand to drag you to the bar, shouting over the music. “Let’s get more shots so we can dance already.”

An adorable looking cat hybrid was manning the bar. His fluffy tail flicked as you signalled for his attention, a wide smile immediately coming on to his face as he greeted you. “My name is Yoongi. What can I get you guys?”

As Sooyoung answered him, you couldn’t help but stare meanwhile. He really was adorable. White tail and ears and a head full of platinum hair, he looked unreal. His black collar shone with a big circle cut diamond hanging from the centre. He was clearly much appreciated by his owner. You wondered if you could get away with gifting something like that to your hybrids. As much as they called you owner, you never got an inkling that they truly acknowledged your ownership enough to accept a symbol of it from you. You didn’t want to step on any toes.

“You look a little lost.” Yoongi’s voice made you snap your gaze to him. He slid your drink towards you.

You downed the shot as quickly as you could before answering him. “Just thinking about my hybrids.”

Yoongi didn’t look surprised, though he leaned his elbows on the bar top in curiosity. “What kind of hybrids do you own? I’m my owner’s only hybrid, I can’t imagine having to share his attention with another.”

“Tiger and wolf.”

Yoongi wrinkled his nose, looking even cuter if that was possible. “Wild predators. We got a wolf h—“

A cheery voice cut him off as a handsome man came down the other side towards Yoongi to fluff up his hair. “I hope you’re not getting distracted again, Yoongi.”

Yoongi huffed as he swatted away his hand. “I’m not. I’m just talking to the customers, Jackson.”

Jackson reached for his hair again, smiling deviously, making the hybrid duck away to escape. You tilted your head, a small smile on your face. What would happen if you made to ruffle Taehyung or Jeongguk’s hair? You had a sudden inexplicable urge to find out.

Leaving the bar you joined your friends on the dance floor. Hip thrusting and body rolling your heart out to the hip hop and EDM fusion beat. As the night progressed, you downed three more shots, thoroughly tipsy when Naeun grabbed you from behind for a less than platonic dance with her, grinding on each other and making many men on the dance floor drool over the sight of you two.

After your sixth shot, you were officially gone to the world as you moved on the dance floor. When an unfamiliar pair of hands snaked around your waist, you didn’t do anything to stop them, didn’t even turn around when a distinctively male, unfamiliar voice whispered in your ear from behind.

“You’re so fucking ho—hghk.” And just like that the hands disappeared and the presence gone from behind in a rush of air.

“Huh?” Slightly confused but the alcohol in your system muddling your intelligence, you made to look over your shoulder but another pair of muscular hands were replacing the previous ones before you could.

The body that moulded to yours thrummed with testosterone and something dangerous, the heady musk of maleness and something wild but eerily familiar making you simultaneously a little scared but comforted. You moved languidly together, though the music was anything but.

He towered over you, you could tell, his chin brushing the top of your head. He didn’t say anything, just held you impossibly close and danced with you like he had all the time in the world. The alcohol you had consumed was making you uncharacteristically bold, you leaned your head against his shoulder and when the music switched to something more sultry, you slowly took his hands in yours to trail them up your waist.

For a few seconds he didn’t do anything, but soon enough he was taking your prompt and running his veiny hands up your body. When his hands brushed the underside of your breasts, a sigh escaped your lips even as your failing inhibitions tried to contain it. “Yes.”

You threw caution to the wind when one of his fingers almost touched a nipple through the fabric of your dress. Taking his hands in yours, you placed them firmly on your breasts, undulating your hips to the beat to rub against his pelvis.

A curse left his lips that he muffled against your hair, hooking the the curtain of it that fell over your right shoulder with his fingers to bare your neck to him. He pressed his mouth to the sensitive skin there, and you had inkling he was also doing it to not let any more sounds escape him.

Reaching a hand behind you, you grabbed a thick thigh, urging him to not let any space between you. He bit your neck at the action, sucking on the skin to leave a bruise there.

“Fuck yes!”, you moaned, closing your eyes. You were unbearably wet in your lace panties, your thighs rubbing together to alleviate the sensations his touch on your breasts was causing.

When you couldn’t take it anymore, you swiftly turned around to attach your lips to his. Not caring to take a look at his face, the only thing illuminating your surroundings were occasional flashing strobe lights anyway, you went on your tip toes to deepen the kiss, licking his bottom lip for more. He obliged with equal eagerness, clutching the back of your head so that his tongue could explore your mouth.

He tasted divine, smelled even more amazing. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, certain you were going to spend your night in the arms of a strange man that felt like home. You hadn’t expected to actually get laid tonight, but were thoroughly satisfied by how the night was turning out.

Biting his lip, you trailed kisses up his jaw as your hands inched up to card into his thick hair. You were about to whisper into his ear a proposition to leave for somewhere less crowded when your fingers encountered the distinctive shape of ears on his head, the soft fur tickling your skin. You had no clue you were kissing a hybrid.

Surprised, you pulled back to look at the hybrid you’d almost been vertical fucking in front of so many people. The man tried to pull you back in to his lips but you resisted, curious, and when next the lights flashed to illuminate the club momentarily, your heart almost lurched out of your chest in shock.

Jeongguk was staring back at you with heavy lidded eyes, lips swollen from your frantic kisses and a hungry look on his face.

“Won’t you ask me to take you home, Owner?”

You gasped, stumbling back as some sobriety filtered back in. What had you done? This was not supposed to happen. You had promised yourself you’d never let either of them seduce you just for the sake of it. Your heart couldn’t handle it. Couldn’t handle being a notch on their belt when you had to live with them, and knowing your tendency for attachment it was downright dangerous for you to delve into any kind of physical intimacy with them.

But of course, why would they care about your heart. They were as cruel with their inconsiderate handling of your feelings towards them as ever. He could have easily told you who he was, or better yet never approached you in the first place, but they could never pass up a chance to torment you, could they? Your lips were already craving for more, your body still tingling in all the right places, even though you’d done nothing but make out. This is why you never wanted to go down this path, if you didn’t know what you were missing, you wouldn’t want it as much. Now, Jeongguk had ruined even that for you. He likely thought it’d be fun to prank his owner, making your vulnerability the butt of the joke as always. And now you couldn’t go back to just imagining what it felt like kissing them, he’d gone and given you a taste of what you couldn’t have. All for a joke. He must be laughing at you internally for falling into his arms so easily, even without looking at his face.

Self pity and humiliation were a depressing combination, forcing tears into your eyes even as you tried your best to keep them at bay.

Jeongguk had started closing the distance between you again, lust evident on his face, when the sudden suspicious shine in your eyes made him go stock-still.

A horrified, confused look dawned on his beautiful face. “Owner, what-wait—!”

Not letting him speak and fuck up everything more than it already was, you turned to flee the club.  

A/n: let me know what you thought, feedback keeps me writing.

#jungkook smut #taehyung smut #bts smut #bts fic #bts angst #bts scenarios #bts imagines #jungkook fic #taehyung fic #jeon jungkook #kim taehyung

[awkward-gay-bro]

New Position

Officer James Hanson knew he had killed this interview. The skinny suit who had conducted it had been eying him up the whole time. Hanson couldn’t blame him of course, anyone would be lucky to get to look at his studly muscles, but the guy should have tried harder to hide it. They were police officers, after all. They were supposed to be men. That didn’t stop Hanson from flexing his arms across his strapping chest, whatever got him the position that was rightfully his. 

Hanson considered himself one of the most up and coming officers, and he knew he deserved to be in a position of real power. He was tired of just being another uni, he knew that he should be something better. And low and behold a scout for a swat division he’d never even heard of approached him. The man was almost as rippling with muscle as he was and had told him that his personality was exactly what they looked for in a special position within their elite team. Hanson wanted to know more, but the other man said that this was on a need to know basis, and that if he got the position they could go into more details.  

After signing and NDA and a contract that he could either turn around now, or he was signed on for the next five years, Hanson was sent a message of where to go for his special training. Hanson didn’t even read what he was signing, he was too excited. The little bit of information he had on this told him he’d even be getting his own office at the team’s secret headquarters. Hanson made his way to the address he’d been provided and couldn’t believe it. The skyscraper didn’t look anything like a precinct he’d seen before, and as he walked into the lobby he couldn’t help thinking he was in a movie. There was no one in the lobby, just a fancy fountain, artwork, topiaries, but nothing that would indicate this had to do with law enforcement. There was a singular elevator in the lobby, whose doors opened, and the suit who’d interviewed him walked out. 

“Hello Officer Hanson, follow me, and we will begin your processing,” the suit said. 

“Am I going to get to learn more about what we are doing here?” Hanson asked as he followed the other man into the elevator.

“We specialize in the things most people don’t even know exist. Crimes using technology most people would believe are simply science fiction fantasies,” the suit nonchalantly said as if he were talking about something as mundane about stamp collecting. “But we can talk about that later, first step is getting you down to the lab for transitioning.”

“Wait does that mean we have high tech weapons here? Like the guns in Men In Black?” Hanson said excitedly. He was ecstatic. He always knew that he was meant for something bigger than all those other schmucks from the academy. Finally, those thoughts were being confirmed.

As the elevator hit the floor labeled lab, the suit said, “That movie got more right than we expected, but you aren’t going to need to worry about that. This is Dr. Rosalind, she is our head geneticist. She will be taking care of you through the bulk of your transition to your new role.”

A beautiful woman, with flaming auburn hair walked out and extended her hand, “Hello, you must be Jamie. Let’s get you in my chair here, most of my subjects prefer to be out during the transition to avoid any pain, so I’m just going to do a small dose of anesthesia.”

“It’s James, and do I really need anesthesia just for you to do a physical? I can assure you, I’m in peak physical condition.” Hanson knew if this suit was the only kinda guy she’d been working with, he was definitely going to have a chance to get with this lady scientist. He was strapping and rugged, and guys like him always got the brainy hottie in the movies.  

“This is going to be a lot more than just a physical, James. But I have a packed schedule today so let’s get this started.” As she said this she pulled down a mask to his face, flipped a switch, and he was out. 

When Hanson woke back up, he was no longer in the lab. He was sitting in a dark bedroom that looked like something out of a brothel. There was no door to the room, just large deep red curtains. As he started to look around the massive room he saw that all of his belongings he’d set aside for relocation were there. If this was going to be his new room, he was definitely going to have to manly up the place. As he lifted one of the boxes he realized whatever the doctor had done really must have drained his energy, the box felt a lot heavier than it had when he packed it. Opening the box he pulled out his high school football jersey, his prized possession of the good old days. When he held it in front of himself, though, it fell down to his knees. It looked like it would be a dress on him. 

“What the hell? They stretched out my jersey?” Looking through the other boxes he found that this was the only article of clothing they’d actually brought over. He couldn’t find any of his clothes. From the corner of his eye he spotted a closet, and assumed they must have already set his clothing up there. But none of his normal clothes were there. It was all way too faggy clothes, mixed with random skimpy costumes, and it was all several sizes too small. The closest thing to being in any way something he would wear was a leather swat uniform. He stripped out of the hospital gown he was for some reason wearing, only now realizing someone had to have removed his clothes for him. Hoping it was the scientist lady and not the suit, he quickly pulled on the leather pants. He hadn’t noticed how smooth his body had become, his hard earned muscles faded, his body hair gone, even his tattoos he’d spent so much time and money on were completely absent. The leather pants went up shockingly easy considering how small and tight they looked, until he got up to his butt. “I knew these wouldn’t fit,” he thought to himself. One massive tug, and he finally got them above his butt, which then began jiggling from the movement. “What the hell?” He reached down and grabbed his butt. Gone was his perky tight rear end, replaced with massive globes he couldn’t even fit in his hands. He hadn’t yet come to terms with the fact his hands had grown smaller and daintier, but these massive cheeks would have been more than a handful even with his formerly rugged paws. 

He finished putting the costume on, buttoning a vest of his now lithe, smooth chest, when the suit walked in through the curtains. “Ah, Doctor Rosalind always does magnificent work. I forgot to introduce myself earlier, you can call me Cassidy. I see you found your new wardrobe?”

“What the hell did she do to my ass?” Hanson said as he turned to face his new coworker. When he finally saw him face to face he was horrified to see that he was now looking up at the man he’d once considered scrawny. He wasn’t just shorter than the other man, he was smaller. “How did you get so big?”

“I’m the exact same as I’ve always been, Jamie,” Cassidy chuckled. Looking up at him, Hanson hadn’t noticed before that he definitely had muscles. The dress shirt he was wearing was tight across his chest, and showed off the lean muscles of his frame. Hanson also noticed that his eyes were deep, and that his smile was as cute as any of his ex-girlfriends’. He immediately shook those thoughts out of his head. 

“How is this going to help me be a better cop? How am I gonna shut down someone with high tech weapons if I can’t even reach the top shelf?” Hanson yelled. 

“That’s not your job, Jamie. It’s mine,” Cassidy began to explain. “With our need for secrecy, our agents here are not able to leave and go back to their normal lives. And we aren’t able to start new lives with others. Our identities, like yours, have been erased from normal society. But we still have needs. That’s where a new program came in, a way for us to satisfy those needs, for friendship, for love, for lust. You were found by one of our recruiters with an ironic sense of humour, and you have gone through our rigorous treatment so that you can participate in that very program.”

“I’m supposed to be a cop! I’m supposed to be something great!” Hanson yelled. 

“And now you are. You have been perfected to my specifications. You are definitely something great,” Cassidy said as he walked closer. Leaning down to Hanson, he planted a kiss, gently holding the back off his head. Hanson fell into the kiss, his body betraying him. The simple touch of the other man’s lips sent butterflies to his stomach and blood to his groin. As Cassidy caressed his face with one hand, he reached down with the other and grabbed one of Hanson’s massive mounds firmly. Falling farther into the kiss, Hanson arched his back pushing his jiggling cheek deeper into Cassidy’s hand. 

Breaking from the kiss, Cassidy said, “You know, most of the agents here assign some new personalities to the partners. I liked how arrogant you were, I made sure they didn’t change a thing about that sexy brain of yours. Well, other than helping you appreciate mine as well.” Hanson should have been angry at what the other man had done, but all he could think of was how thoughtful it was that Cassidy made sure he would still be himself. Even if it was in a new package. “Now this will be your new office, it’s connected by these curtains to mine. We can go more into the rest of the facility, but what do you say we break in this bed?” With that Cassidy took his hand from Jamie’s head, and grabbed hold of his other cheek. Grabbing both cheeks firmly, he lifted the smaller man up, into his arms and began kissing him again. Jamie began grinding into the larger man as they kissed, his massive rear end twerking along in Cassidy’s hands. Jamie thought to himself that he’d have plenty of time to be angry later, right now he just wanted to show off that he was the best of the best no matter the position. And Cassidy had a lot of positions he wanted to try out. 

#male tf #male transformation #man to boi #twinkification #butt growth #straight to gay #muscle theft #my work

[camelotsheart]

Alright. I’m watching 1x11 and trying a new way of liveblogging. Which is just me writing random paragraphs. Enjoy.

A creature of magic mourning the loss of a creature of magic 😭

“Arthur is a hunter. It's in his blood. Whereas you are something entirely different.“ reminds me of “He is a weapon, a killer. Do not forget it. You can use a spear as a walking stick, but that will not change its nature.“ “You are wrong.” Especially with the way that Arthur then proves what is in his heart by the end of the episode, and how his ‘heart’ is shown to constantly guide him towards the ‘correct’ choice in s5 (e.g. “My heart says do anything I can to save Mordred.“)

“You've got a face like a wounded bear ever since we got back from that hunting trip." Arthur means bear. I have no idea what to do with this information.

The unicorn as a metaphor for those sorcerers who “do no harm” and thus Camelot serves no purpose in killing them. Especially since people like the Disir and Alator describe the purge as a “hunt”.

The drought serving as a parallel to the events that happened before the purge to Uther, in that Arthur sees all the harm that “magic” is doing to the land and his people, just like Uther witnesses Ygraine’s death. Arthur initially refuses to accept that what happens is caused by him, just like Uther does. But unlike Uther, Arthur is able to acknowledge his mistakes given time (it’s interesting how in the book adaptation of 1x02 merlin makes this comparison too)

“If it is magic, it's more powerful magic than I possess.“ So unicorn magic is more powerful than Merlin’s magic. Would dragon magic be more powerful too? Is that why Merlin couldn’t heal Arthur from the poison of Mordred’s sword tha was forged in a dragon’s breath?

Merlin not understanding hand signals is my life 😂���

Ok I can literally draw so many parallels between Anhora and Arthur’s first conversation, and Nimueh and Uther’s conversation in 1x09. Especially from how both Arthur and Uther seem completely unable to understand how the ‘curse’ that happened to Ygraine and Camelot was technically their fault.

“And could you bear for your children to see you be executed?“ The way in which Arthur says this breaks my heart because he does understand the feeling of blaming himself for the loss of a parent, just like those hypothetical children would. This is highlighted more by the fact that Evan later plays on Arthur’s insecurities about being his father’s son.

“If you're tested again, you have a chance to end your people's suffering. I know you want that more than anything." Reminds me of what Bradley says about Arthur putting Camelot above everything, even his personal relationships. Compare this to Lancelot and Merlin, who’s “something that is more important than anything” is a person (or people, in the case of Lancelot).

I LOVE S1 MORGANA. S1 AND 2 MORGWEN WOULD HAVE MADE A PERFECT QUEEN DUO FIGHT ME.

Merlin’s face when Arthur says he’s going to the forest to seek Anhorra out 🥺 Also the way he looks back like he wants to see the exact moment Arthur figures out that he’s eating rat meat 🤣 Merlin’s sarcastic little nod. Arthur’s shit-eating grin. This is what I mean by sibling dynamics.

AND THEN THEY TURN ON MORGANA ASDJSAJASLDKKLDJSA. MERLIN. ARTHUR. NO 🤣🤣🤣

“The King must wonder if you are even his son.“ I absolutely do not like how Anhora chose to do the test with Evan here. I hate it. But it does prepare Arthur for a lot of things. It prepares him to do things his father normally would not do. It prepares him to ignore when people compare him to his father (not that it worked with Agravaine, but Arthur does eventually come around most of the time with Merlin’s help). I find it like a mini 5x03 in a way. Also the fact that Arthur doesn’t even try to defend himself by saying that the looter would have been executed by the law of the land anyway; because deep down he knows that reasoning is wrong. What needs to be changed currently is Arthur’s arrogance in regards to his honour, not his internal morals. He has already proven his internal morals with saving Mordred, laying down his life in 1x09, as well as rescuing Ealdor and his reaction to finding out Will was a sorcerer in 1x10. Right now, Arthur needs to be able to accept that he is wrong.

“Besides I would rather starve than beg my enemies for help! What of our kingdom's reputation? Have you no pride?” “I cannot think of my pride when our people go hungry. They're all I can think of.” I’m screaming over the fact that what ends up beating sense into Arthur is his love for his people. I want to cry. He loves his people so much that his battle cry is “for the love of Camelot” 😭❤️

“Very well. But if you'd caught the sorcerer, I would not have to. That's your responsibility! One day you will understand what it takes to be King!” One day, Uther, you’ll learn to blame yourself for other people’s suffering.

“My people are starving. Camelot is on the verge of collapse. And it is all my doing.“ IT DIDN’T EVEN TAKE ARTHUR A DAY TO LEARN THIS I WANT TO CRY 😭 FUCK YOU UTHER YOU DON’T DESERVE ARTHUR AT ALL. (also the fact that Arthur fiddles with Ygraine’s ring as he says this 😭❤️)

“I trust Arthur with my life” the fact that arthur proves that trust right both in this episode by drinking the goblet and in the previous episode by admitting that he “of course” would not kill Will despite thinking he was a sorcerer.

Why the hell does Anhora use a sword to cast the vine spell.

“I thought I told you to stay at home.” Every time Arthur calls Camelot ‘home’ for Merlin I 🥺

Are those carvings... horseshoes...? Making the shape of a heart....? I--

(Sorry guys. By this point it’s 200% certain that my shipper brain is going to take over. Please expect a lot of screaming)

“What kind of ridiculous test is that? What does that prove?” “What it proves is for you to decide.” Which means that by the end, Arthur realizes what this test proves. And he proves what is truly in his heart by sacrificing his life for merlin. Remember “To sacrifice his life to save Gwen’s... I can’t imagine any man loving me so much.” “I certainly can’t imagine that either” “That’s because you’re not like Merlin. He’s a lover” “Yeah? Maybe that’s because I haven’t found the right person to love”. Remember how in the book adaptation this episode, it says that Arthur proves that there is love in his heart by giving his life for Merlin? Remember “there was magic at the heart of Camelot”? Remember how in the book version Arthur doesn’t deny having love in his heart when Anhora says so when the Unicorn lives again, and instead turns his head to smile at Merlin--

“I’m glad you’re here, Merlin.” @thebookluvrr1816​ More 1x11-finale parallels to scream about 😭 The book version describes Merlin’s surprise at this statement, and how he thought it was “ironic and unfair” that they understood each other "at the very moment that death was about to tear them apart.”

“No, I will drink it!” “As if I’d let you.” Someone stop these dollopheads from having a domestic about who will die for the other i beg

“You know me, Merlin. I never listen to you.” reminds me of “I’m the king Merlin, you can’t tell me what to do.” “I always have. I’m not going to change now.” Also, in the books Arthur actually says “farewell, Merlin” after this. Book Arthur is way more suave just saying.

HOW ARTHUR LOOKS INTO MERLIN’S EYES IN HIS FINAL MOMENTS UNTIL HE ISN’T PHYSICALLY ABLE TO ANYMORE. SOMEONE HELP ME 😭

“This was Arthur's test, not yours.“ idk but this reminds me of the fisher king saying “For this is not Arthur's quest, it is yours.“

“You've killed him! I was meant to protect him!” This is going to sound harsh but by this point I think Merlin was still putting Arthur’s destiny above Arthur himself. In the books, there’s a distinct difference in how he feels about Arthur’s death in this scene compared to 1x13 (I’m amazed at how fast his feelings changes, actually). Here, I feel like he focuses more on his own failure to protect Arthur as part of his destiny, but in 1x13, he says that the idea of destiny not being fulfilled was nothing compared to the idea of not being by Arthur’s side. I wonder what happens between this and 1x13 for Merlin’s feelings to change so much.

THIS HAS PROBABLY BEEN STATED MULTIPLE TIMES BEFORE BUT “HE HAS PROVEN WHAT IS TRULY IN HIS HEART“ AS THE CAMERA FOCUSES ON MERLIN. PRODUCERS YOU AIN’T SNEAKY.

Merlin’s smile as he looks down at Arthur sleeping 🥺

Arthur looking at Uther’s hand on his shoulder as if he’s trying to identify a foreign object 🙂 I can never say this enough but fuck you Uther.

“When he who kills a unicorn proves himself to be pure of heart, the unicorn will live again.” this is a stretch but it reminds me of “when Albion’s need is greatest, Arthur will rise again.”

And that’s done! I have a small meta that ties the theme of Arthur and magic in this episode to the same themes in 1x10, but I might do it on a separate post since this one is already so long 😂

#bbc merlin #merlin meta #long post #1x11 #merthur? merthur #someone stop me from having 4 spirals every episode #this is why my chronological watches take me so long

[erekiosuncreativeideas]

The Part-Time Puppeteer - Chapter 08

<= Chapter 7

Summary : Lukas gets a chance against one of the biggest actors ever known.

Also available on AO3 : https://archiveofourown.org/works/23828971/chapters/81316792

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The duel you had all been awaiting for... THERE IT IS. I hope you'll like it !

Thank you, Tumblr, for making this chapter so fucking hard to post, I appreciate it, really. /s

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Chapter 8 - “So you came back... As I had planned.”

The role of the Moonjumper was both an interesting and a boring one- at least, this is what Lukas had thought to himself while he had been learning his lines. It wasn’t that this character was a bad one, no, far from it. But he was… Predictable, unoriginal in some ways even. The young man hadn’t noticed it really, while simply reading the text in his mind. But once he had said the lines out loud… This is when it started to get apparent. Of course, he had told himself he was merely a law student, so what could he know about fiction and how to interpret it? He was no specialist in that field. And yet, this is the impression the role gave to him. Not a bad one, but not a perfect one.

In short, there was room for improvement. However, this hadn’t been on his mind, or not for too long. After all, he had other preoccupations other than thinking about that. The first one had been to learn these lines, and the second and most important one… Was to teach that bastard of an actor that sometimes life could get back at you for your attitude.

And apparently, now was the moment for it.

With a wave of confidence caused by his anger towards the diva, Lukas opened his mouth and put a start to what seemed to be a duel between the two of them.

-“So you came back,” he murmured with a little smile, moving the puppet upwards, as if it were looming over Hat Kid or, in this case, MJ: “As I had planned.”

-“You took something from me,” retorted MJ, with a determined intonation that was completely different from his arrogant, usual self. This man was no doubt a very skilled actor. Even if he looked nothing like a little girl… He still managed to give the same vibes, by his movements, his expression and his voice. It was truly impressing, though the student couldn’t care much at the moment.

He needed to focus, to get himself in character… In this very instant, the young man was a mysterious and powerful entity who had been imprisoned in his own dimension for centuries. He was a monster that would lure his victims in, never for them to be seen again. What did he do with them? The script wasn’t clear about that, though there were traces that hinted he would turn them into puppets.

Quite a scary thing for a kids’ show.

The student was struggling to move the puppet with precision, due to how it was made. It was the same kind of puppet who had strings linking it to a wooden cross. It was practical in a way where he didn’t have to touch the puppet directly to move it… But on the other hand, it meant that he couldn’t do precise or specific gestures with it. This meant he would need to put extra effort on his acting, so that it would compensate the lack of gesture he could do.

Well, he hoped this wouldn’t be too noticeable… Trying his best to make the puppet raise its hand, he continued playing:

-“Oh, you mean this, perhaps?” Having no props on the scene with him made it less immersive, but thankfully, the rest of the dialogue was enough for everyone to understand what the Moonjumper was talking about: “This hourglass of yours… A powerful artifact, yes?”

Lukas’ tone was calm, reserved, but it wouldn’t last- later in the scene, the Moonjumper would become more agitated. Actually, the directives on it didn’t say he was going to get mad, per se. Still, when he read those lines, he was… Disappointed in the entity’s attitude. For a bad guy, the latter was way too mild, too nice, and… Not threatening enough.

Not frightening enough.

-“That is none of your business,” the diva replied, his tone more aggressive. His stance had tensed, giving away how important this object was for the main character, and how crucial it was to get it back.

-“Oh, is that so?” Lukas made the puppet tilt its head to the side, approaching MJ dangerously. His tone had turned icy, bitter, as if what the main character had said weren’t such a good idea: “I believe it is quite my business, on the contrary, young child,” his murmur had lowered in volume as he made another step forward.

-“It’s mine!” MJ’s voice had talked back, his expression showing a mix of anger, despair, and persistence.

-“Is it? Is it, really?” he snarled in response, starting to raise his tone a little- this was the time to put his improvisation on the table. At this point, it was make or break: “Maybe you’re lying. Perhaps you stole it. Who is there to say? Do you even know how much I need it?”

The diva in front of him seemed taken aback by him not respecting the stage direction completely. It didn’t last long, and soon enough, the hint of a smirk could be seen on the other’s face, even if just for a second. It quickly disappeared, as the actor didn’t want to break character. But Lukas saw it, and it simply enraged him.

At least, his fury in the next moments was not going to be faked.

-“You don’t know what you’re talking about!” the ‘little girl’ screamed at him, getting closer to confront him: “This isn’t a toy, this isn’t… Some weird stuff that you can use for yourself! It’s… It belongs to me, to… To my people!”

Okay, this was it, this was the most embarrassing moment of this whole scene. God, he wanted to cringe so hard just thinking about what he was going to do, but… This exact thing was the reason he got the role to begin with. So, realistically, it meant… That it was maybe his secret weapon.

Shit, that sounded so fucking stupid.

The student let out a snort, one that started to get louder and louder as seconds passed. This wasn’t supposed to be anything more than a cruel giggle, but… This scene was the finale, was something people had to remember after seeing that episode. It had to be… Intense! Full of passion, as Grooves would say, he supposed. And so… His mind conjured a picture he would never, ever forget.

MJ falling down the day before. MJ getting angry, humiliated before the entire crew, losing his job against a nobody, a simple stagehand who had been hired the same day. And, just like that… Lukas burst out laughing, his hysterical giggles echoing all around, sending shivers to the spectators as it continued. For years, the young man had been shamed for his way of laughing. His entire childhood had been spent hiding that part of him from the others, so he wouldn’t be judged and mocked for something he couldn’t even control. And here, for the first time of his entire life…

Lukas was laughing without being (too) scared of the way people would react in consequence. This was… Absolutely freeing, to feel like he could be himself, just a few instants…!

-“You think I see this as a toy? Don’t be silly, young child… This,” he spoke again, his voice dark, lifting the doll’s hand again: “… Is my salvation, the key to my esca-”

-“Okay, cut, that’s enough,” Lukas was interrupted by a familiar voice, the investor’s. His face paled up- wait, they hadn’t finished the scene, why would that man stop them? Did… Did he do wrong? He gulped down, starting to regret taking initiatives. What was he thinking? If he had a script, it was to respect it! Why did he choose the riskiest solution?! Couldn’t he just stick to the plan?!

He turned to the investor, a look of fear and confusion written all over his face. At his sides, MJ’s acting mask fell, only to be replaced by a smug expression, as he approached the student. Leaning towards him, so that only he could hear, the actor whispered:

-“You didn’t even respect your text,” the diva mocked him: “What, you thought it was a good idea to improvise? Or were you just too stupid to read the stage directions?”

Lukas glared at him, gritting his teeth- but his arch nemesis was right. He had taken initiatives and, in hindsight, this really hadn’t been the opportunity for it. This was an exam, a duel, in which they both had to prove who was a better actor. When would a good actor question a director’s orders?

The young man’s cheeks blushed both in anger and embarrassment. His eyes fell on the Conductor and DJ Grooves- both looked disappointed and perhaps a little angry. They were most likely thinking that he had just wasted a golden opportunity- he didn’t think he had acted badly, he was pretty sure his laughter had been a great addition, but his wasn’t about that.

It was about respecting the directors’ wishes, which he hadn’t done.

In an instant, Lukas’ attitude went from confidence to utter embarrassment. Oh, how he wished he could just hide underground, never to be seen again. Next to him, in comparison, MJ was simply beaming. In the distance, Mike’s expression was a mix of sadness and frustration. As for the rest of the crew… Lukas just couldn’t look at them.

It was too much. His anxiety was eating him from the inside, feeding on his self doubts, on his fears, and on how much he wanted to get out of here. Please, couldn’t he hear that he was downgraded to being a stagehand again?

The wait was unbearable.

The investor had remained silent for a few seconds, staring into space. Eventually, his eyes went back up to the two actors, and he sighed, visibly conflicted. But conflicted about what? There wasn’t anything to be conflicted about! The young man clenched his fists, trying to focus on the pain of his nails scratching his palms instead. The longer it lasted, the more he could feel his emotions getting out of control. If it continued, then… Well, he could already feel some tears making their way up to his eyes.

Oh, no, no, please, no, not in public- not next to MJ, out of every-fucking-one!

His mind went silent as he saw the investor looking at him, his face serious. This was it.

-“You don’t fit the role,” he said sternly, and Lukas felt his heart sink in his chest- he knew it, he fucking knew it, he shouldn’t have tried to take risks! This wasn’t his forte, he should have stuck to rules like he always had!

-“Well, isn’t that a surprise,” a sarcastic scoff left the actor’s lips at his sides, only making the student feel even worse than he already was: “Who could have ever thought hiring a stagehand to do some professional work was a bad idea- oh, yeah. I did,” the asshole’s voice became serious, sending huge and bitter “I told you so” vibes.

God, Lukas just wanted to punch his face so bad…! And the humiliation he was feeling wasn’t helping him either- fuck, fuck, he could feel the urge to cry getting harder and harder to suppress.

The investor raised his hand, his expression still as serious as before:

-“I’m not finished,” he interrupted the other’s celebration before crossing his hands, lost in thoughts: “This… Is not something I had expected, I have to admit that much.”

-“Wha-” MJ seemed confused and tilted his head to the side, frowning: “What do you mean?” he pressed the older man, visibly not liking where this was going. Lukas was just as confused as him, not really understanding where the other was getting at. And, to be fair, so was everyone else in the room, especially the two directors, who exchanged a perplexed look.

What the hell was going on?

It took approximately thirty, long seconds for the investor to find his words, and he crossed his arms, looking back at the student.

-“You don’t fit the role, because this character doesn’t fit you.”

There was a short silence in the room, before MJ broke it, an insincere smile taking place onto his lips:

-“I’m sorry,” he snorted sarcastically: “This role doesn’t fit him because he doesn’t know how to act,” the jerk enunciated, as if it were obvious- and it was. Still, the other shook his head and tapped the script resting on his legs with the back of his fingers.

-“No, he does. But his acting doesn’t fit a character like this,” he explained better, and he opened the script to continue: “See, I only got to read the script before, today is the first time I’m seeing it actually being rehearsed. And it made me notice that… This character isn’t good. In fact, he’s bad.”

This last statement cast a chill in the room, making people frown in confusion and incomprehension. However, for the two directors, it was more than that. It was more pronounced, more… Visible.

-“Wh- What d’you mean?” the Conductor exclaimed, holding his own copy of the script and flipping the pages frantically. DJ Grooves was more reserved, but he was clearly furrowing his brow, shaking his head:

-“But… But we sent you the script a few times, and you validated this version,” he retorted: “I don’t understand why suddenly this character is bad to you.”

The investor pointed at the two young men on the scene, his head turning back to look at the directors:

-“It’s one thing to read the script, and it’s another to experience it. The Moonjumper is bland, he doesn’t have any personality, he looks like any other bad guy, he feels… Unoriginal. I’m honestly feeling like I was watching something made by teenagers.”

It was clear that this last sentence deeply offended the two men, and Grooves had to grab the Conductor’s arm, so that the latter could keep his mouth shut. But, oh, it was obvious they wanted to talk back. Still, it was best to be polite with the person funding your entire project.

-“Which is why you need a good actor,” MJ tried to interject, placing his hand over his heart as he tried to persuade the benefactor to choose him instead. But he was soon cut short by the man’s voice again, disagreeing with him:

-“No, MJ, you don’t understand. This character is badly written, and this puppet,” he nodded to the object still in Lukas’ hands: “… Is too scary for kids. On one hand, you have this character without any personality, and on the other, you have this puppet which design has to change.”

At the mention of the puppet, a familiar person moved across the crowd to join the conversation. Without much surprise, it was Mike, whose expression showed concern and confusion:

-“W-wait,” he called out to the investor, not knowing what to do with his own hands: “I don’t… I was asked to make a scary puppet, I-”

-“And you did way too much. Furthermore… Our friend here had some trouble moving the puppet around,” he pointed to the student, whose face paled up as everyone’s eyes glanced at him. Oh, shit, no, he didn’t want to be implicated in this…!

-“This puppet wasn’t made with the idea of interacting with props. It can’t hold things and even if it could, it seems complicated to make it express emotions or body language. In short, I want the puppet to be redesigned entirely.”

Mike’s face paled at the investor’s decision, and Lukas couldn’t blame him. It was months of work thrown away like it was nothing. He was about to say something against it, but MJ beat him to it, defending his brother for the student’s greatest surprise:

-“And you had to wait until it was finished to say something about it?” the actor’s tone was getting more aggressive as he gestured at his brother: “He spent nights working on that! And you decide to just… Scrap it away?!”

Lukas… Really hadn’t expected the other to care, especially with how the latter had thrown the puppet to the floor the day before. Then again, they were twins, and Mike did seem to care about his brother… So maybe the feeling was mutual, just… Unbalanced, perhaps?

-“I know, and I take full responsibility for that,” retorted the man with determination: “The other reason I want a redesign is that I want this character to change. I want another one instead, one that is original, and not… The typical cliché of a bad guy.”

Before MJ was able to talk back, the Conductor interjected, his expression really showing he wasn’t liking anything that was being said at the moment.

-“Are you serious?!” he finally snapped, his Scottish accent more audible than ever: “Do you expect us to rewrite the entire thing?! After all the time it took us?!”

Grooves tried to calm the Conductor down, but it was in vain. All he could do was to push him lightly to the side, before the other reacted violently by shoving him back, not wanting to be touched, especially by him. Still, that got the message across, and DJ Grooves got the opportunity to talk:

-“It’s… Not possible to rewrite anything, the deadlines are too short for our budget and-”

-“In that case, if this is the way to avoid a catastrophic show, then I’ll fund this project for a little longer. But I do not want to see my money being wasted on some poorly written story,” he sighed, obviously aware of how much his words had irritated the entire crew, who was now glaring daggers at him: “I know I am responsible for saying that too late, which is why I will give you more time and money to adjust tactics. But this,” he gestured to the puppet and the script: “… Has to change. I’m not asking for a complete rework of the script, but I want us to talk about the modifications we need to implement.”

After the announcement regarding the deadlines being postponed, the crew did lose some animosity, though it was still very much there, especially for the two directors who had to rewrite a good chunk of what they thought was a final version. Mike, in comparison, looked much more disappointed and sad than anything else, which made Lukas feel bad for him. He wanted to comfort his friend, trying to encourage him- but before he even could, MJ’s voice rose again in the room, catching everyone’s attention once more:

-“And what about the original problem, hm?” he urged the benefactor: “If there’s no Moonjumper anymore, then… What about the new character?” He then gestured at Lukas as if he were showing something disgusting- and yeah, that was pretty insulting: “You’re not… Going to choose an inexperienced stagehand for a major role, are you? You need someone who knows how to act, not… Not someone who can’t even respect the stage directions!”

The student gritted his teeth again- but he couldn’t deny the last point, as it was true. Then again, that didn’t mean he couldn’t defend himself:

-“At least, I respect other people,” he mumbled, loud enough for the diva to hear. Unsurprisingly, the latter turned to him, his eyes wide and his expression furious:

-“Excuse me?!” he retorted, outraged: “I know what acting is, and it’s following the script!”

-“Oh sure, that’s clearlymore important than being a decent human being!” the young man rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. This seemed to be what made the actor snap. The latter rushed towards him, his fist raised, prepared to hit- but thankfully, Mike knew his brother enough to anticipate it, and he dashed to grab his twin by the waist, stopping him.

-“MJ, cut it out!” yelled the puppet maker, and Lukas couldn’t help but be taken aback, not used to seeing Mike so… Angry. And yet, it was barely enough to keep MJ from trying to punch the student- he was trying to break out of his brother’s hold. Lukas couldn’t help but step back, in case the actor did manage to shove his twin aside. But it didn’t happen. Instead, the diva slowly lowered his fist, glaring at his rival with pure hatred in his eyes.

-“Will you pleasefucking stop?!” the benefactor’s loud voice called out to the group. When they all turned their head back to him, his face showed nothing but anger and annoyance. That sent shivers down Lukas’ spine, and he tensed, facing the man again like a well-behaved child. Next to him, MJ glared at the man before rolling his eyes, soon imitating his arch nemesis. Mike, upon seeing his brother had calmed down, let go of him and made a few steps back as well.

Okay, seemed like this day was getting as agitated as the previous one… Was this going to be the case for every single day? He… Didn’t know if he could handle that.

The investor let out a long, exaggerated sigh before pinching his nose, irritation written all over his face.

-“I’m… Ugh… Okay, fine. For this new character, and my decision will be final… I want the newbie on it.”

Lukas’ heart stopped beating, his eyes widening in astonishment. Wait, wait, wh-

-“What?!” the diva’s voice soon echoed around them, his tone enraged and scandalized: “You can’t be serious, he’s just-”

-“I said that my decision was final,” the benefactor reaffirmed his choice, giving the actor a very stern look of disapproval: “And if you’re unhappy with that, then you are more than welcome to leave. If you finally decide to act like an adult, then I will give you another role. But let me tell you, MJ, you’re on thin fucking ice, right now.”

The diva shot him yet another glare, his fists clenched and trembling from how livid he was. Both of them seemed to try and assert their dominance over the other… But eventually, MJ looked away and stormed off, kicking a chair as he moved through the room. It took him only a few seconds to reach the door and slam it behind him, leaving the set after another tantrum. Mike, just like the day before, quickly followed him, most likely to comfort him or at least calm him down.

In the meantime, Lukas was just… Existing, barely realizing what had been said to him. This… This was a dream, right? He was still in the workshop, taking an impromptu nap, this couldn’t be possible in real life…! And yet, it was all very real. In the back, the Conductor and Grooves seemed to have conflicted emotions: on one hand, they were very upset by the idea of rewriting a good part of their story, but on the other hand… They wouldn’t have to worry about that asshole’s attitude anymore. Still, they seemed just confused as him as to why he had been chosen. Yeah, seemed like improvising wouldn’t have been a good idea, but… Maybe in this particular case, it helped to highlight the Moonjumper’s lack of personality.

In a way… Probably not something to do in the future from now on.

Suddenly, the student was brought back to reality as he felt a hand over his shoulder, and he jumped, not expecting the sudden contact. He looked in front of him, his eyes focusing on the person he was facing: the benefactor. The latter still wasn’t smiling, and his expression was still irritated, but it didn’t seem directed at him at least:

-“Well, congrats, I guess. You did good.”

Lukas remained silent for a moment, not knowing how to answer or what to say. Eventually, he stammered a quick “thank you”, his mind still having trouble to process what had just happened.

He had the role- holy shit, he had managed to get the role, and against MJ at that!

The man pulled away and turned to the directors, telling them things Lukas could barely hear over the cacophony his minds was making. Still, inside him… A feeling of pride and accomplishment was growing, enveloping him. A wave of excitement followed, and it was hard not to jump around in pure joy and satisfaction.

Maybe this day wasn’t so bad after all…

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

=> Chapter 09

#a hat in time fanfiction #ahit #a hat in time #ahit fanfiction #ahit fanfic #ahit snatcher #ahit the snatcher #ahit the prince #ahit mj #a hat in time mj #a hat in time the snatcher #a hat in time the prince #a hat in time the conductor #conductor #snatcher #the snatcher #a hat in time snatcher #mj #ahit conductor #the conductor #a hat in time dj grooves #ahit dj grooves #a hat in time grooves #ahit grooves #dj grooves #grooves #a hat in time conductor #mike #a hat in time au #ahit au

[jilljoycearts]

About the situation with the previously mentioned reposter, reposts in general, and the fandom. This is mostly about the russian part of the internet, the dark and fearsome place.

This post is very long, so I’m hiding it under the cut.

To sum it all up:

If you see drawings (fanarts) for the game Enderal and for the rest of the SureAI games on the russian social VK, published not by the authors of the drawings or not by their art groups, pages and communities, then they are placed against the will of these very authors.

About the rhetorics (mostly for the Russians that stumble upon this post): what people on VK call repost (share button) is an actual reblogging or retweet. In fact, a repost is re-uploading something not by its owner. Now let's start. The retelling is quite detailed. Also, a warning: although I can retell this whole thing in english from scratch, the post is translated from russian with the help of almighty google. I don't want to bother much with this and spend my energy on it. Most of the mistakes I still fix, but the sentence structure and phrasing might seem weird.

The man (hereinafter "character T"; we do not mention his name because he is only interested in your attention to his person) took under his wing a long-abandoned community (Enderal themed), asking to be a moderator. For several months he was posting stolen drawings (without permission and credits), until his vanity drove him into a trap: with a request of "reblog for reblog" (wanted to promote his own fan-creation) he messaged a small russian community of artists interested in the SureAI games. Naturally, seeing his reposting activities, everyone was utterly indignant. He was incredibly lucky that my drawing was the last one published on the dash of his community. Again, no credit. I left a comment urging him to remove the stolen things and explaining the common truths. To which no one answered, but suddenly a link to my tumblr appeared. I wrote another comment telling to delete again, and again no one answered me. When he had to start talking to me, Character T decided that it was a good idea to load a girl (who was so lucky to know both of us a bit) with the work of a negotiator. I leave it to you to judge the "honor and dignity" of this character and his decision. I scroll forward: he agrees to delete my work, while rolling out a post consisting of articles of the civil code, in which he puts the meaning “I reposted, am reposting and will continue that, because the law allows me”. At the same time, the negotiator girl gets tired of working as his secretary. I already intend to contact him personally, but I find myself in his blacklist. It would seem, "Well, calm down, hedeleted yours." But his intention to repost further stunned everyone. Naturally, the time has come to inform the foreign authors about this chronic stealing.

A new location was unlocked in our amusing adventure: a server of the game developers SureAI on Discord. There, one of the artists from whom he stole called him out, without mentioning the names (yes, the character T was active there, whilst annoying the local inhabitants). He responded after a while, again rolling out his cart of articles on the legality of reposts. He also managed to threaten me personally with something. In general, he was kicked from the server of the developers for lack of culture and propaganda of copyright infringement. Further, another foreign author tried to contact him personally, but in the same way received a cart of laws. In the meantime, the English-speaking part of the fandom artists decided to write an official letter of complaint, attaching all links to posts to be deleted, and listing the authors with whose content the character T is strictly prohibited from interacting in the future. This letter was tried to be sent by a German artist, who specially registered there, but she stumbled upon some tech difficulties. Firstly, she was blocked by the owner of the stealing community, where the character T was appointed as the moderator. Her page was empty, the name was not Russian - he thought it was a bot, I can understand that. She then dropped the complaint letter to the support of VK social itself. Even tried to message the stealing community specifically but another lag made it impossible. (and this was required according to the new "rules" of the character T, according to which it was decided to play. "So that your complaint was considered ..." and so on.)...

Sensing something is wrong, character T made an attempt to contact some Russian-speaking authors himself in the meantime. And they told him the same -- that he steals, and not “shares” for some “purpose”. And here comes an interesting thing: the phrases "well, something needs to be posted to fill the community" and "but I am not on their Facebooks, I found it on Yandex"(that's russian google). That is, our drawings turned out to be just a filler, because something needs to be posted. Searching by image is difficult, but he still has to post! Something. Anything. What for? I have an explanation and an answer to this, but since this is the purpose of the character T - to draw attention to his fan-creation, I will not mention it 👌🏻 Another of his phrases was that due to the increased attention to his community now he HAS to credit the authors 🤦🏻‍♀. In general, he banned the Russian-speaking artist, whom he contacted and received a well-scented bucket’s content on his head (and well-deserved of course).

Now let's return to the official letter of complaint from foreign artists, which never reached the stealing community, and after all it was sent by the Russian-speaking author L. This time the character T was able to read it, but as expected, he refused to remove reposts, said that the artists were arrogant, accused of gatekeeping and again expressed his intention to repost not only without permission, but also against the will of all these fandom authors (38 people). After all, he has a great goal - to popularize games and the universe in the ru-segment.

The same or the next day the owner of the stealing community contacted me (who had previously lost interest, abandoned it, and a year later gave it to the character T). The owner asked what was happening, I explained, and passed on the letter of complaint from foreign artists, which the German artist could not send because he blocked her. That I explained to him too and he unblocked her. No reaction to my explanations abot the character T followed, but we’ll come back to that later.

And now we decided it’s time for our last resort -- we contacted Nicolas (the main screenwriter, the owner of the rights to this universe and the main figure of the fandom as a whole). Here I will digress from the main line and note that interested people have dug out both the provisions of the Berne Convention and the laws of the Russian Federation, which the character T chose to ignore in his activities, hiding behind only those that are convenient for him. Now let's return to Nicolas, who had to take a break from vacation because of this circus. As it turned out, character T, sensing the smoke, came running to him first. But alas, Nicolas was on the side of the authors (who would have thought). As a result, we almost decided that hurray, it helped, because posts with pictures disappeared from the wall of the stealing community, and character T even disappeared from the list of moderators (I will return to the stage with the owner of the community: I assume it was his work). But it was clear that it was too early to celebrate the victory.

Change of location: again the server of the developers on Discord. After the kick of the character T, three days later, a brand-new account appears, which broadcasts about the character T in the third person using Google translate “ if he had not been pressed upon, he would repost peacefully in his community of a thousand subscribers. And now he will attract some audience of a dozen more groups and will repost there too”. Naturally, without direct evidence of the second coming, no one have kicked him yet.

On the same day, the VK support told me that the most effective weapon in our case is the DMCA form. This is inconvenient, but it works. Moreover, the stolen has already been removed from the stealing community.

Then people came across the news - the stealing community advertised a new community of the character T, which was shaped exclusively for reposting other people's drawings (and there were already several works, including mine). The adv post called to support the character T “and his work”. Naturally, in the comments, I and other people urged not to support this. We even managed to explain the situation to some random person. After that the post was deleted. We don't know who deleted the post (still the character T or the community owner).

At this point, I ask Nicolas to message the tharacter T again using the simplest words that reposts cannot be allowed without permission. At all. Even with links attached. Doesn't help because the main now-not-stealing community shares a new post of the new one stealing community again. That is, even the main copyright holder and owner of the entire thing is not a figure of authority for the character T. Summing up -- “I will “popularize” your fandom against your wishes. The laws allow me. "

But after a while, the reblog from the new community is removed from the main one.

And again, the change of location: to the discord of the developers, where the character T himself comes back and writes something (under the new name ofc as his old account is banned). He declares that he will now repost to some huge audience of 300k people (before that there were 200, and even before that 100, yeah), he is outraged by the complaint letter from the authors with the ban on reposting, he will deliberately not credit, and also he wants to reupload my fanfiction somewhere. After that, he was kicked again 🥾.

Naturally, the entire audience is shocked, the character T literally became famous and crowned himself with a clown wig in just a few days, and now the entire fandom and the informed ru-segment hates him. The retelling is over.

Almost. Now I thank google translate for the help above and I'm gonna retell even more without it as this information is rather new. He wrote his own “explanation post”, where he somehow found relevant addressing the sexuality of one of the authors who called him out, called Nico indifferent and passive regarding this situation, insulted literally everyone but him, the white knight, whom we all should be grateful to for his will of promoting our content. I facepalm very hard. And he reposts art to some small communities but no one gives a shit (surprisingly so, huh?). He adds the links to the authors. Now I don’t want to give him any attention anymore, I have some work to get done.

Here comes the part about the and for community itself (google translate helps me again):

For the artists:

For the people registered in VK there is a "Nemesis" algorithm (dropdown - report - copied content). It will want a link to the previously published content on the VK as a primary source. Its effectiveness is still in question, but if someone tried it, then share your experience. For the rest, there is a dmca form that wants passport data (the only one I know of that asks for it), which I personally do not want to share, but in general... It's up to you to decide. Advice: Include readable text with @ of your page, community or yourself in your watermarks. Thus, an adequate person will always see where to go for the primary source.

For the readers/viewers:

Fandom existence is based on respect for other people's work. This work is the reason fandoms exist. If you like the drawing, then praise the author, support them in accessible ways (like - comment - subscribe - send a link to a friend(reblog the thing) - give some moneyz). People will be pleased, honestly. And if you disagree with something or you go "Ew" for other reasons, then just walk by. This is, in fact, all that you can do. If you have ambitions, ideas and “I need to fill my dead community with something” (you are considering taking the author's drawing and placing it somewhere yourself), then you ask for permission and accept any answer. There is no other way. Otherwise it's a violation of the law. 

Why reposts (= re-uploads) are harmful I think there's no need to mention, but still:

First of all, it drives away traffic from the authors. It doesn't matter if fanart can be monetized or not (spoiler alert: it can). Example: If a figurative reposter hadn't taken away figurative content, then a potential viewer interested in this content would go to search for it himself. And would have found it posted by the author. And then it is already possible to take a closer look at the other work as a whole, and even give the author money so that they draw something personalized for this viewer personally. That’s an example. It seems to be clear. Artists on the Internet care about their traffic, which is responsible for audience growth and all subsequent opportunities. This is the basics.

About monetizing fan content.

It depends solely on the developers / authors of games and books (original owners of all rights). Sometimes the ban on monetization hangs for some time after the release of the game (as was the case with Hades), sometimes you can sell keychains / posters / whatever with fanarts on them right away. And sometimes you can't, everything is individual here. Again, I think it is clear that if a viewer finds the original image posted by the author themselves, then this viewer has more chances to buy merch with this image. After all, the author will definitely add that the drawing is available as a merch. Reposter -- never. He does not know that, he found it on Yandex/Google.

Specifically about me and my community:

You know that my main audience are not russians. I have already abandoned my russian community once. Would I want to disappear from there again? So far, there is no such desire. People I have there are nice and friendly, despite the small number. How much do I really care about reposts of drawings on an objectively dying or already dead fandom? I'll leave it to you to decide. I have been here since the 2016-17, with me the fan activity started, and with me it will end. Everyone who is interested in SureAI games knows me. And although I have the permission from the devs to monetize fanart and fan content in general, it is obvious that $20 from posters and magnets every few months is not my motivation. I am here because I love the game universe and its characters. I make my own thing, quietly rejoicing, and I don't look around much. Reposts are evil on a different level, and not on this one. Does T's intention of re-uploading my fanfiction or even rewriting it somehow thrills me? I don’t care at all. Let him read a well edited and thought-through text for once. But I doubt it will help a little.

In general:

My subscribers / readers / followers know where to look for my updates. A thinking person that sees a repost will go and find the author themselves. Be it pictures that they see, text or something else. Those people who don't think are obviously not interesting for me as an audience. Other authors share this position.

Finally, end of this text. It has taken me 4 hours to write this all in russian, maybe another one to edit the google output and add more things AND almost one week of my time to deal with this all (and don’t forget other authors involved, they spent a shitload of time on it too). From now on my position is “time is money” and if the character T resurfaces he’ll have to pay me for the attention he seeks, lol 

#enderal #sureai #art theft #reposters #5 pages on google docs #goddamnit #nehrim

[yuta1forme]

like magnets | ten

summary: in which you and ten are up and coming choreographers who are forever at each other’s throats. but maybe fighting is just an excuse to get close.

pairing: ten x reader

genre: angsty fluff

warnings: some swearing, alcohol mention, loads of bickering

length: 4.3k

tag list: @sly-merlin​ @animegirl366​ @yonoohcore​

He’s confident to the point of arrogance. He knows exactly how to get under your skin. When the pair of you start fighting, all the other dancers make their way out of the studio, not wanting to get involved in another explosive Y/N-Ten showdown. He counters your every suggestion. He always has more critique for your performances than praise. 

And yet, he is the best dance partner you could ever ask for. He matches your poise with his passion. In dance, you both have found a middle ground. 

When Ten first joined the studio you really wanted to like him. He was a young, up and coming dancer from Thailand. What you had not seen coming was that besides being the same age, you and Ten had precious little in common. The day you first met Ten, you had decided in less than ten seconds that you two would never, to put this lightly, become the “best of friends”. 

You had entered the break room of the studio that day, late and soaking wet because of the heavy downpour that had begun the night before. Hungry and disgruntled, all you had wanted to do was to grab a steaming cup of green tea and the last of your favorite jelly doughnuts. Only the thought of those jelly doughnuts had you hanging on during your hour and forty-five-minute long journey to work this morning. They were your emotional support food, your one and only indulgence. After almost three years at the studio, all the other dancers knew not to touch your jelly doughnuts. All except for the bucket-hat wearing Thai newbie who clearly hadn’t gotten the memo. 

“Those were my doughnuts”, you had barely managed to huff out, focusing your mind on not raising your voice or worse, bursting into tears.

Now, if he had just apologized for eating them without asking you first, you both might not have started off on the wrong foot. No, the fucker just shrugged and said, “Didn’t see your name on them”. No shame in his eyes, not an ounce of regret in his voice. The powdered sugar from your doughnuts still around his mouth and dusted over his all-black ensemble. That fucker.

“So people just waltz into a room and eat someone else’s snacks where you’re from?”, you asked, your pitch becoming shriller with annoyance. 

“No of course not. Because where I’m from, people don’t leave their snacks where everyone can see them, without putting their name on it first”, he replied, cool as a cucumber. 

Taeyong had entered the break room at this point. He took one look at the powdered sugar on Ten’s face and the eyes-gonna-pop-out expression on yours and connected the dots. As one of the senior choreographers in the studio, Taeyong had developed a sixth sense for sniffing out conflicts before they broke out. 

“Y/N! I see you’ve already met Ten! He’s the new dancer from Thailand. Ten this is Y/N”, Taeyong had prompted by way of introductions, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge and inching closer to the door he had entered from. 

“Oh, you’re Y/N. The one who choreographed the last Pink Cashmere comeback, right?”, Ten had asked, suddenly sitting up straight. Seeing that your conversation was turning civil, Taeyong had left the room just as quietly as he had entered it.

“Yes, that would be me”, you had responded. That was your first time working with an idol group and was a milestone in your career. You had spent weeks running on pure adrenaline and Americanos (and the occasional jelly doughnut), spending day and night listening to the new comeback track, reviewing concept photos and looking up old performances to get their style down just right. When you watched the girls perform the choreography for the first time, you were so immensely proud of yourself, you hadn’t stopped beaming for days. 

“I should’ve known it was you, it had your signature footwork style all over it”, Ten had said, nodding his head slightly. You had felt flattered at that, surprised that anyone had even picked up that you had a certain trademark in your choreography.

“But, I thought it was too showy if you know what I mean”, Ten had continued, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair, a slight frown on his face. 

You were almost embarrassed at how much his words affected you. While you were used to internet trolls taking jabs at your work, it was something entirely different to hear full-blown criticism from your peers. As the youngest choreographer in the studio, you rarely got challenged when it came to choreography, with most of your colleagues wholeheartedly encouraging you to spread your wings and grow no matter the outcome. It probably was not intentional on their part but it had become a fear of yours - what if nobody would outwardly challenge your decisions because they thought you were too weak to handle the truth?

Still, you felt a need to defend your creative decision. You needed to stand up for yourself. “The girls are great dancers and I thought a more challenging choreography would push them out of their comfort zone. Sooji and Maya were actually part of a hip-hop dance crew pre-debut. They were itching to try out a new concept”. 

“But why not use more formations in the dance? It’s an eight-member group. You could’ve used that to your advantage”, Ten had countered. He made a good point. But you didn’t want to concede to him. Who did this man think he was? Walking in here and questioning your vision as a choreographer?, you though to yourself.

“Most of the other girl groups that came back around that time had similar songs but only Pink Cashmere had a distinct choreography. I wanted to make their choreography memorable”, you had said. 

Ten had remained quiet for a while. “I didn’t think of it that way”, he had replied, a thoughtful look on his face. “In that case, I think you succeeded at whatever you set out to do with that choreography.  It was definitely memorable, Y/N.”

He turned his gaze up towards your face and flashed you a sweet smile. He looked like a whole different person, almost innocently brushing powdered sugar off his cheeks like a mischievous cat who had just been caught doing something he shouldn’t have done. 

Your whole first interaction with Ten had confused you. First he walked in acting like he owned the place, critiquing your choreography as if he was a veteran dancer. But then he had just as easily praised your abilities. But at the back of your mind you had this nagging feeling that whatever Ten had said to you was not in an effort to undermine you, unlike some of the backhanded compliments delivered by your peers. He had criticized you because he thought you could take it, because he thought of you as an equal. And you kind of enjoyed that.

Arguing with Ten became a part of your everyday routine thereafter. So did labelling your snacks with your names and leaving passive-aggressive messages on post-it notes.

At nineteen, you gave up a full-ride scholarship to a prestigious law school in your country and moved to Seoul with a single suitcase and your old school backpack in hand. Your family had threatened to cut off contact with you if you left the country, but you left anyway; Your passion for dance was stronger than your fear of losing them. Dance was your first love. You lived and breathed it. Like hell were you giving up on your first love that easy. 

You worked odd jobs during the day and filmed original choreographies for your YouTube channel during the night. After struggling for over a year, your hope slowly dwindling, you got a notification that changed your life. Kim Jongin, one of South Korea’s ballet prodigies had shared one of your videos on Twitter. Your subscriber count had quadrupled overnight, with hundreds of thousands of commenters dubbing you a “prodigy”. Fate brought you to Jongin, who then introduced you to Taeyong, who brought you to SM studios. 

It was a dream come true - for years you had only struggled, floating in dark and murky water, swimming forward towards a hazy future. Now, you had thousands of fans, dozens of supportive friends, and a solid foundation from where you could dream. Your friend Hendery liked to joke that you would need more than twenty-four hours a day if you wanted to do everything in your planner. And truth be told, he was right. You had given up a lot to pursue your dreams. Given up on your family, most of your friends, your home country. You wanted to make sure it was all worthwhile. So you wanted to spend every day making the most of the opportunities that you now had. You went to bed each night with a head full of ideas and woke up every morning with the fire to bring them to life. 

Of course, dedicating your life to your craft came at a cost. The rest of the world had not stopped moving just because you decided to make dance your life. This dawned on you one rosy Valentine’s Day evening, when you, date-less for the fifth year running, quite naively decided to scroll through Instagram. Amongst the sea of pink, flowers and picture-perfect happy couples were two faces that made your stomach instantly drop - your ex and a stunning woman posing for the camera with their fingers intertwined. On her ring finger, a diamond the size of a blueberry. 

You remember the day you broke things off with your ex like it was yesterday. You were at the airport, waiting to get on your flight to Seoul, positively buzzing with nerves. You had waited until you were seated on the plane to send your ex a rather heartless text message saying you were breaking up with him to find yourself and that it was best if he forgot you. Very dramatic, even for you. But you were nineteen and had just watched ‘Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind’. In return he had left you an equally dramatic voicemail, pleading with you to not end the relationship and proclaiming that he would never stop loving you. You had all but laughed at his message then.

You weren’t laughing anymore though. He was happily engaged, while you were lonely, lying in bed on Valentine’s day in a pizza grease-stained sweatshirt. You had spent the last few years working relentlessly which had given you a career that you could be proud of, friends you could rely on. But besides the occasional fling here and there, you didn’t have much in terms of a romantic life. You guessed you deserved this, that karma had finally caught up to you.  Didn’t stop you from feeling like shit though.

So you did what you always did when you felt particularly shitty. You went down to the studio, turned the music on full blast and dove right into a new choreography. You were freestyling, too lost in the moment to hear the door creak open.

“I gotta hand it to you, Y/N, that was pretty impressive!”, a male voice exclaimed. You had spun around expecting to see Sicheng or Hendery at the door. Instead, you were met with a tired but rather amused looking Ten.

He was dressed in a white silk shirt and a pair of black slacks. You noticed the roses in his hands, slightly wilted but still beautiful nonetheless. He was clearly dressed up for a date. He looked striking as always but you didn’t linger too long on that, thinking that it was your romance deprived mind projecting thoughts onto the first attractive male it saw. 

“What are you doing here? It’s Valentine’s day, don’t you have a crowd of screaming fans to attend to?”, you asked sarcastically.

“One date. And they stood me up, actually”, he replied with a bitter smile. He must have been quite upset if he didn’t have a snarky response for you.

You were truly taken aback. Ten? Getting stood up by someone? Ten, who could charm the socks off of anyone he set his eyes on, getting stood up on Valentine’s day? 

“But how?”, you blurted out, instantly regretting it when you saw the quizzical look on Ten’s face. Yet you foolishly continued mumbling, or rather digging yourself deeper into a hole.

“I mean, you’re just...so...you”, you said vaguely gesturing at his whole form. From his boyish good looks to his ability to sweet-talk, Ten’s charms were undeniable. Ever since he joined the studio, the number of signups for the afternoon classes had doubled. Dozens of people would come to the studio every day, just to catch a glimpse of him. And he indulged them all too, flashing them his signature grin or paying them a cheeky compliment. If only you weren’t all too familiar with the way he could run his mouth during an argument, you too might have fallen for his charms. 

“Sorry to disappoint you, Y/N, but I’m not quite the Casanova you expected me to be. But I will take that as a compliment”, he said with a wink that had you resisting the urge to roll your eyes.

“Still doesn’t explain what you’re doing here though”, you mumbled out.  

“I like to choreograph at night. I think I’m my most creative after midnight. Besides I just got my heart broken and I should channel that emotional energy somewhere right?”, Ten said feigning nonchalance. You could tell he was genuinely upset from how his night had played out and couldn’t help but sympathize with him.

“Well, I’m here for reasons along similar lines. You could join me? Help me choreograph this new freestyle piece I’m working on?”, you had asked. 

Ten cocked his eyebrow at you, clearly not expecting you to extend an olive branch to him in this manner given how you were still being snarky with him five minutes ago. But he accepted your offer nonetheless.

You both entered your element pretty quickly, letting the music move your body freely. You worked out a simple choreography, cheering for each other when you came up with a particularly impressive move. You were having fun, even though you wouldn’t admit it to yourself. At least you hadn’t thought of your ex in the last couple of hours, mind completely occupied with the thought that you and Ten surprisingly made good dance partners. Perhaps the friction between the two of you translated to great chemistry when you were dancing. Taeyong would be pleased to know that.

“I’m beat”, you exclaimed, slumping down on the floor after the final round of practice. Ten sat down next to you, resting his back against the mirrored wall. The pair of you sat wordlessly for a few minutes, letting your heartbeats slow back down. You lay flat on the floor, too physically exhausted to move. As soon as you closed your eyes, your traitorous mind brought back the images of your ex’s engagement and you groaned loudly.

“Long day?”, Ten asked, giving you a slightly concerned look. You just chuckled bitterly in response.

“Want to talk about it?”, Ten pried in an almost uncharacteristically gentle voice. You wondered if he had ever spoken to you in that tone before. 

“I don’t know if we’re close enough to have little heart-to-hearts yet Ten”, you replied. There was an invisible wall between you and Ten that you were just not ready to tear down. The thought of sharing embarrassing details about your love life with someone you could consider a frenemy at best, too jarring. You didn’t miss the way Ten’s shoulders slightly slumped at that. You hadn’t meant to sound harsh, yet you felt somewhat guilty.

“But…maybe we are close enough to have a drink together?”, you asked, suddenly emboldened by a rush of confidence that confused even you. You took his cheeky smile as a yes.

You spent the rest of the night drunk and giggling with Ten. The thoughts of your ex were long forgotten. Perhaps you could learn to do more than merely tolerating Ten’s presence. Perhaps you could learn to enjoy his presence too.

Soon it became a ritual - if you and Ten were the last ones left in the studio, you would grab some beers and head to the roof. It was such strange departure from your usual selves that you often wondered why it was so easy for you to enjoy his company sitting under the stars like this when you would be at each other’s throats the rest of the time. 

Over time your conversations had gone from discussions about art, to plans of travelling the world, what you were currently binge-watching on Netflix, and everything in between. Still, there were some topics that you both steered clear of - talk of family and love lives was seemingly off the table.

Until one night after a couple of drinks, when Ten pulled his phone out to show you a picture of two women, one older and one younger. The striking resemblance between the faces in the photo and Ten confirmed that they were indeed his mother and sister. His sister was clad in a dark blue graduation gown and his mother was holding a beautiful bouquet of light pink roses. 

“She graduated last week, my baby sister”, Ten said practically glowing. The proud look on his face was a testament to the close relationship he had with his sibling. 

“You must miss her a lot”, you said, voice barely a whisper.

“All the time. My family are my biggest supporters. I don’t think I would have had the courage to move out here on my own if it weren't for their encouragement”, Ten answered. 

You hadn’t spoken to your family ever since you came to Seoul. In the past, the longing left a pressure in your chest that sometimes made it feel like your throat would close, choking you on your guilt. Now, it just left you numb. 

“What about you?”, Ten asked, cautiously prying into your personal life.

“What about me?”, you countered, diverting your gaze away from the man sitting next to you, instantly wary of how much you wanted to share about your past. 

“What about your family? Your old home?”, Ten asked. 

It couldn’t hurt sharing with Ten, right? It’s not like what he thought of you really mattered to you. Right?

“I actually don’t keep in touch with my family any more. They weren’t too keen on me becoming a dancer. It’s been, what, three? Three and a half years since I last saw them. When I first left home for Seoul”, you said, trying your hardest to suppress any trace of emotion in your voice. You kept your gaze focused on the city skyline ahead of you, too afraid to turn and see the expression on Ten’s face. You wondered what he thought of you, whether he thought you were stubborn. Worse yet, whether he pitied you.

After a few moments, Ten broke the silence. “I guess sometimes, not having a family is better than having one that doesn’t love you for who you are. Don’t get me wrong, I can’t possibly know how you must have felt, all these years. But I want you to know that the people who love you now, love you without any agenda. Not because they are related to you by blood, not because they are obligated to love you. But because they just love you”, Ten said, eyes shining with an emotion you didn’t know how to react to. 

“And they could be your family too”, he finished in a voice that was so warm, so gentle, you wondered if this really was the Ten who stole your jelly doughnuts when you first met.

You were speechless, processing his words for what felt like hours but was probably just a few seconds. Then you did the only thing your impulsive mind could think to do - you leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. In response, he wrapped you up in his embrace. You stayed still, focusing on the faint scent of his cologne on the sleeves of his hoodie. You breathed out a thank you, soft as a whisper. Whether or not Ten heard you, he moved his left arm slightly, gently stroking your hair and continued to chatter on about some entirely different topic. 

You knew that once the sun came back up and both of you returned to your lives inside the studio, this little moment would not be brought up in front of anyone else. That moment was just for the two of you to share and bury deep within your hearts.

You knew you were in too deep one day when Ten gave you a friendly smile in passing while making his way to the break room, and you felt your cheeks and neck heat up. You had finally let the Thai dancer charm his way into your heart. 

Typical Y/N, you thought to yourself, Falling in love with any cute boy who gives you attention. But he wasn’t just any cute boy. It was Ten. Ten, your frenemy turned close confidant. Ten, who would send you pictures of cute animals he saw on the street just because you once told him you wanted to adopt a cat. Ten, who took you dancing to a club in Hongdae when you were feeling low and all but carried your drunk ass back to your home. Ten, who over the last couple of months had heard every single one of your deepest insecurities and had still chosen to stick by you. Ten who had just left a box of jelly doughnuts in the break room, next to a post-it note with your name on it. To make matters worse, you were supposed to start working on a new collaboration together this week, a contemporary piece set to an R&B slow jam. How were you meant to work with him all week when you could barely make eye contact with him? You had to physically restrain yourself from facepalming.

You spent the week, evading conversation with him beyond work and some small talk to fill the silence. But none of your usual banter. You had even turned down his suggestion to grab dinner together several times that week, to the point that even typically non-confrontational Sicheng had picked up that something was off.

“Why have you been avoiding Ten all week? I thought you guys had given up fighting?”, Sicheng asked after he cornered you one day.

“Avoiding him? Now, why would I do that when we’ve been working together all week?”, you had chuckled nervously, desperately looking for an out from this conversation.

“He’s been sulking around since Tuesday, Y/N. He said he doesn’t know what he did to upset you”, Sicheng had asked you sharply. 

The guilt in your eyes must have been apparent because Sicheng dropped his voice into a gentle whisper for what he said next. 

“I know the two of you are as good at dancing around your feelings as you are at dancing on stage. But maybe try talking to him, Y/N? I think right now, you two might have more in common than you think”, Sicheng told you as he gave you a knowing look. 

The day of the performance shoot came and there was a noticeable awkwardness between you and Ten. You decided to cut the tension by apologizing to him, citing the nerves for the performance as the reason you had been on edge the whole week. Whether or not Ten believed you, he accepted your apology and wrapped you up in his arms. You wished you had psychic abilities so you could read his mind. Did he have the same butterflies in his stomach right now?

As soon as the music started any nervousness you felt around Ten melted away. Dancing with him was like second nature to you by now. The song started with you on stage alone, dancing under the single spotlight illuminating the stage. You could see him out of the corner of your eyes, following your every move and observing you with nothing short of adoration. You left the stage for Ten’s solo and you could feel the goosebumps on your skin from watching him perform. He was absolutely stunning, moving fluidly through the movements as though he was painting with his body on the canvas of the stage. You joined him on stage for the chorus, dancing apart but facing one another as though mirroring the other’s movements. Through the bridge you inched closer and closer to one another. You felt your heartbeat beginning to rise from the proximity. 

Both of you could communicate with each other with your eyes alone. You danced perfectly in sync with one another, pulling apart only to fall right back into each other, just like magnets. So different yet inseparable. You could see it in his eyes, when he looked at you, that the emotion in his mirrored yours. You knew you weren’t imagining it when he audibly gasped as you melted into his embrace for the final move. His heartbeat was racing a hundred miles an hour, just like yours. The pair of you stood there, lips just a few millimeters apart, breathing deeply as the studio erupted into thunderous applause. You were no longer afraid to admit to yourself and to the world, that you had it bad for Ten Lee. 

And when he kissed you on the rooftop that night, you knew that he had it bad for you too. 

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