#yes this rabbit hole is very deep and i have no intention of leaving it any time soon

[incorrect-koh-posts]

'I am glad to meet Godfrey's son - he was one of my greatest teachers. He was there when, playing with the other boys, my arm was cut; and it was he, not my father's physicians, who noticed that I felt no pain. He wept when he gave my father the news ... that I am a leper.'

KING BALDWIN IV in Ridley Scott's KINGDOM OF HEAVEN (2005)

#kingdom of heaven #kingdom of heaven 2005 #ridley scott #baldwin iv #edward norton #perioddramaedit #movieedit #movies #crusades #my gifs #yes this rabbit hole is very deep and i have no intention of leaving it any time soon #what a beautiful boy #majestic

[judeswhore]

tell me that i’m all you want; steve harrington

summary: everyone in hawkins knows about steve harrington’s somewhat infamous past and with your relationship being new and a little devil on your shoulder you start to worry if you’re simply just his next play thing

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

requested: yes

warnings: none

notes: you can find my masterlist here.

“i was thinking we could do dinner tomorrow? and check out the new roller rink that just opened up, you can stay the night if you want, my parents still won’t be back.” steve’s voice was soft, a quiet whisper pushed into the almost silence of his living room. the tv was turned low, the images flashing bright lights over the ceiling, lighting up the room and illuminating both of your faces. his chin settled against the top of your head, finger tips tracing lazy patterns over the bare skin of your thigh. his touch was innocent, almost comforting, but the coil of worry that had taken up residency in your tummy made you think it was anything but.

you were tucked into his side, arm draped over his waist, the cotton of his yellow sweater warm and soft beneath your cheek and it would all be well and good, the perfect evening, if it wasn’t for your cloud of anxiety over your boyfriend’s intentions. his proposal of another night spent at his place sent a wave of uncertainty over you, your body growing a little tense, almost unnoticeably so because you weren’t sure what he wanted. you swallowed thickly, tried not to let your thoughts run wild but it was almost impossible.

your relationship with steve was still new, only a few weeks down the line and while everyone around you had made it known he was a different person, had assured and better assured you that he’d changed, you couldn’t help but question him. you knew all too well of his high school endeavours, had witnessed his reign as king steve, watched the string of girls that followed his every move, girls who always came away broken hearted but with a story to tell. steve had used them, had slept with them and then discarded them, had took pleasure in knowing he could have whoever he wanted, whenever he wanted and didn’t have to worry about commitment or long lasting relationships.

sometimes, when you let yourself fall down that rabbit hole, you wondered if maybe that’s what this was. wondered if steve was with you just to prove a point that despite his somewhat ungraceful fall down the social ladder since leaving school, he could still get girls, could still have them fawning over his every word. you worried that maybe his sweetness was an act, was a pretence to butter you up until you slipped into his bed and gave him what he really wanted. it was an awful thought because he’d never given you any reason to think he was only in it for sex but you couldn’t stop his reputation from tainting the image you had of him now and each summer sweet word felt like an invitation for more.

with the worry he only wanted you for sex came the even bigger worry that because you hadn’t slept with him yet he was bound to get bored, would grow tired of waiting and find someone else. steve wasn’t used to waiting in school, girls threw themselves at him even at every given opportunity and despite only having been together those few weeks you sometimes wondered if he was growing impatient, if he was tired of your simple make outs and wanted more. it wasn’t that you didn’t want to, you wanted nothing more than to have that special moment with him but deep down you were afraid if that happened that would be it, you’d simply become another notch on steve harrington’s bedpost and you weren’t exactly ready to find out if that was true or not.

“baby.” steve’s voice and the soft tap of his thumb against your cheek tugged you from your thoughts, brought you back into the room and you felt a little too hot when you realised he’d been waiting for a reply. he brushed his fingers lightly across your jaw, traced the very corner of your mouth and despite your minds worries, your body and heart reacted to him, skin prickling and chest squeezing.

“sorry, i-uh.” you coughed a little to clear your throat, pushed away from his chest with a careful hand to his stomach and steve’s hands fell to his lap, a crease appearing between his brow at the space you’d put between you. you watched the way he reacted, adam’s apple bobbing a little too harshly, lashes fluttering over glazed over eyes and a slow blush crept up his face, gripping his cheeks until they were dusted a light pink.

“you don’t have to if you don’t want to, it’s cool, y’know if you have other plans or you just like, don’t wanna or whatever. it’s cool, i just-i just thought i’d ask.” his fingers tapped a little restlessly against his thighs, a somewhat embarrassed edge creeping into the corners of his words, eyes darting from yours to focus on the tv instead. he swallowed again, dragged the palm of his hand over his leg and his cheeks turned a shade darker.

something twisted inside of you, a different kind of ache taking hold of your chest at the sudden look of vulnerability that had passed over his features. the air between you was suddenly awkward, tense and a little heavy and you felt your own embarrassment creeping up as you geared yourself up to finally talk to steve about your worries and insecurities. they were messing with your relationship and the quicker you got them out in the open the better it would be, no matter what the outcome was.

“steve,” you shifted on the sofa, turned so you were facing him, legs tucked up beneath you and thought over your words for a few seconds. “dinner and the rink sounds amazing it’s just… this is the fifth night in a row you’ve asked me to stay over and i don’t know, i don’t know if you’re waiting for something.” there was a pause, a silence filled only by the soft hum of the tv and before steve had fully processed your words you spoke up again, voice a little less sure than before. “i don’t think i wanna be just another girl to you.”

for a few seconds steve only stared at you, blush still high on his cheeks, fingers still fluttering in his lap and then he shook his head, an almost pained expression passing his face. “shit, that’s not- this isn’t- you’re not just another girl.” he stumbled over his words, rubbed a little aggressively at a spot on his cheek and you thought he was trying to push the blush away from his skin.

“it’s just i remember what you were like in high school, i remember the rumours and i know everyone says you’ve changed but i don’t wanna be just sex to you. i like you and sometimes i worry that you keep inviting me over when your parents aren’t here because y’know you’re expecting something.” you felt hot all over, embarrassed about your confession and suddenly a little nauseous that it might be true but steve was looking at you with a strange expression, a light softness to his eyes you’d never seen before.

“my parents are never here,” was the first thing he said, a sad declaration that had long since lost any real meaning to him. “i’d still invite you over even if they were but y’know, they spend weeks at a time out of town.” the embarrassed tone was back, the flush now settled over the tips of his ears. “i didn’t think about how you’d take it, me constantly wanting you to stay the night, i get how it looks but that’s not it. it’s-its not about sex, i don’t want to have sex with you-” his eyes widened at the way your brows raised and he rushed over his next words. “i mean i do eventually, like, i’ve thought about it, but it’s not all i think about, y’know i’m not like a creep or anything. it’s just a passing thing it’s not-”

“steve, i get it.” you laughed softly despite the situation, ignoring the blooming heat in your chest at how endearing his rambling was. steve winced and nodded, dragged a hand through his hair.

“what i mean is, i’m not asking you to stay because i’m waiting or expecting you to have sex with me, i want you to stay because i like having you here. i really like you and i like being able to just be with you, to not have to worry about everything else.” he stopped, swiped his tongue over his bottom lip and then held his hand out, palm up. you slipped your fingers over his, let him pull you into his side again, his warmth settling over you. “i was a douchebag in high school but i’m not that guy anymore, i understand that my reputation is pretty shit but i know how i feel about you. i know that i want you and only you and i don’t care if you never wanna have sex with me because i like the way you make me feel. it’s ridiculous, things have been shit these past few years but you make things quiet, you make me quiet. when i’m with you i’m not worrying about the kids or my parents or the fact i have a shitty job i’m just thinking about you and all the ways that you make me feel right.”

you blinked, heart in your throat, a blissful happiness floating through your blood because his words had settled something inside of you, had eased all your worries that steve was only in it for his own selfish gain. he was looking at you like you hung the moon, like you’d gifted him the stars and the universe right into the palm of his hand. his hair was falling on to his forehead and with deft fingers your pushed it back, carded your fingers through the soft strands and pushed impossibly closer to him.

“steve.” his name fell against his own lips because you were kissing him, slow and languid, heated brushes of your mouth over his. his hands pressed warm against your back, burning through your shirt branding himself into your skin with a single touch.

“i should have made it clearer, that this wasn’t about sex that there were no ulterior motives to me wanting you here other than you making me feel less lonely. i like you a stupid amount.” you laughed softly into his mouth, let him nuzzle his nose over yours with his own gentle smile.

“i should have told you how i felt but i was afraid if i told you you’d tell me i was right.” his smile suddenly turned cheeky, eyes sparking a little mischievously. he kissed your cheek, peppered soft pecks to the corner of your mouth.

“when are you ever right?”

“you really wanna ruin this?”

“..no.” he kissed you hard and full on the mouth, cupped your jaw and rubbed your chin with his thumb. “you’re not just another girl, this isn’t just some silly high school romance. it’s real with you.” he paused and the smile he sent you was somewhat shy. “when you’re here, when i get to wake up to you and go to sleep with you, when we cook and you sing terribly into a wooden spoon it makes everything feel okay. sometimes i like to imagine this is how it’ll always be because i don’t plan on letting you go.”

and he didn’t. steve liked you a scary amount, liked you more than he was willing to admit in that moment but he was certain he didn’t ever want to lose you. he wanted you and the comfort you brought him for as long as possible because it was only with you that he felt he could breathe again.

#stranger things #stranger things smut #stranger things blurb #stranger things fic #stranger things one shot #joe keery #steve harrington #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fic

[sapphireginger]

Didn’t Know I Was Lonely Til I Sensed You

AO3 Link

Summary:

He spun around and flung his magic at the predator, freezing when his magic also formed a shield around the man. “What?”

The man watched him and quirked a brow. “Your magic won’t let you hurt me. I wonder what that means.”

Stiles lived in Poland with his family. It was the only home he had ever known and he had no plans to leave. It was as he was walking home from the bar where he worked that the hairs on the back of his neck stood up and his spark flared to life. “I’d think very carefully about your next move, wolf.”

“I’m not a threat to you. I—”

Stiles scoffed. “It’s not wise to corner a magic user. Making one of us feel threatened guarantees that we’ll lash out!”

He spun around and flung his magic at the predator, freezing when his magic also formed a shield around the man. “What?”

The man watched him and quirked a brow. “Your magic won’t let you hurt me. I wonder what that means.”

Stiles sneered. “Nothing. It just means that I don’t truly view you as a threat.”

The man chuckled deeply. “Och mały króliku. Nie mam zamiaru cię skrzywdzić, pomimo tego, jak apetycznie wyglądasz. Czy naprawdę się mnie nie boisz?

Stiles’s heart pounded and his knees felt weak. “Mówisz doskonale, ale nie jesteś stąd. Czy władasz biegle językiem polskim?

“Masz rację. Nie jestem stąd. Zostałem tu przyciągnięty. Tak. Biegle posługuję się językiem polskim.”

“Drawn here how? By what?”

The man stepped closer, his lips hovering by Stiles’s ear. “Isn’t it obvious?”

Stiles vigorously shook his head, his breath hitching. “No?”

The man offered a soft smile. “You.”

Stiles felt like he had been sucked into a black hole and well he had no complaints as evidenced by the end result of him in bed with the wolf, both of them fully satiated.

“I sensed you. There was a longing that I couldn’t explain. I was lonely.”

Derek smiled wryly. “As was I. It wasn’t easy to leave home but at the same time it was as easy as breathing. There’s nothing for me at home now, and with a crazy ex standing trial…” he trailed off.

Stiles was able to read the wolf’s aura easily and felt brave enough to make an offer. “Derek?”

“Mm?” the wolf murmured, nosing at the spark’s neck.

“You can stay here.”

“Here?”

“Yes. W-With me.”

“With you?”

Stiles took a deep breath to steel himself in case Derek said no but persevered with his offer. “Yes. Stay here with me.” Derek didn’t reply and first and Stiles started to feel nervous. He quickly added, “You don’t have to but I…” Stiles trailed off and then cleared his throat. He knew he could do this. He was a spark damn it. “I-I don’t want you to leave.”

Derek stilled, the words finally breaking through the scent fog of mate that he had been basking in and he pulled back to meet Stiles’s earnest expression, the amber eyes full of hope. “Are you sure?”

Stiles smiled and softly said, “Stay?”

Derek smiled and gently kissed those perfect pink lips. “Yes.”

“Really?” Stiles breathed, his heart racing. Was this really happening? Was he finally going to stop believing he’d be alone forever?

Before his mind managed to wander too far, Derek cupped his jaw and rested their foreheads together. “There’s nowhere else I want to be.”

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂

Polish Translations:

▸ Och mały króliku. Nie mam zamiaru cię skrzywdzić, pomimo tego, jak apetycznie wyglądasz. Czy naprawdę się mnie nie boisz?

⚬ ⚬

▸ Oh little rabbit. I have no intention of harming you despite how delicious you look. Are you truly not afraid of me?

⚬ ⚬ ⚬ ⚬ ⚬

▸ Mówisz doskonale, ale nie jesteś stąd. Czy władasz biegle językiem polskim?

⚬ ⚬

▸ You speak perfectly but you’re not from here. Are you fluent in Polish?

⚬ ⚬ ⚬ ⚬ ⚬

▸ Masz rację. Nie jestem stąd. Zostałem tu przyciągnięty. Tak. Biegle posługuję się językiem polskim.

⚬ ⚬

▸ You’re correct. I’m not from here. I was drawn here. Yes. I’m fluent in Polish.

#teen wolf #stiles stilinski #derek hale #sterek #soulmates #spark stiles stilinski #alpha derek hale #stiles stilinski speaks polish #derek hale speaks polish #Poland #sapphireginger #sapphire ginger #mates

[iboulderdash]

HOKAY, SO

I'm prepping my ol' Tumblr account here as Twitter eats shit. It'll take some work to fully customize things and the like, but for now, this is a start.

I will be disassociating from the iBrony days and the... Conservative things I said. Nothing racist, thank god I was never that far down the rabbit hole, but I was conservative nonetheless. This'll be the only time I'll get political to explain.

I was conservative because it was how I was raised. I didn't understand politics as much at the time and just trusted what my mom would say. While ultimately a good woman, she does buy into the propaganda the GOP and the like spewed and it trickled down to me. I did post some things here on Tumblr a long time ago that while not offensive outright, I was vocal about Obama in my corner here.

Those are days I now rebuke.

I have the Trump administration to thank for letting me see the light of what the Republican party has become these days, a cesspool of hypocrisy and manipulators who use old fashioned values of community and family to then twist and turn the people who vote for them, distracting them while they fleece their pockets and get away with so much more. Yeah, the only good thing to come from the Trump administration is that they turned me Democratic.

I would say deep down, I'm still the person I was back then and that my affiliation change is now a better representation of who I always been. I always believed in treating people with kindness, respect, support, and to do your best to grow into a better version of yourself. I tried over these years to become a better person of myself, recognize my mistakes (justified or no), learn from them, and becoming more.

And yes, I'm sure some people would argue I was a bad mod. Maybe I didn't go about some things the right way, which I will own to. Yet on the other hand, there were some truly nasty and vile people who treated their fellow people as trash and would sling some very hurtful words my way not out of correct criticism, but because they're just a terrible person. I'm not mod of any site anymore and allow me a moment to express my true feelings now that I don't have to set an example for other people and so carefully have to choose my wording to be as inoffensive as possible.

"Fuck you."

You've no idea the times I wanted to just ban someone because they got in my nerves. If I had a nickel for any time that happened, modding would've been a pretty sweet gig instead of volunteer work.

But those days are past me and I have absolutely no intention of doing that again. I rather now just chill out in my own corner, not having the burden of responsibility to get involved in other peoples' business and getting trashed on for just doing my job. Irony is that it wasn't the members who broke me there, but rather my fellow friends on staff... but that's a can of worms I don't want to ever open again. Let's leave it at that I was asked to come back when I retired to help with a particular situation, told them what I needed to get it done and upfront on a particular policy, they agreed to it, but backed out when it came to cash the check. It was a very painful situation.

So yup, that's that. Gonna keep that in the past and just set up my bunker and network with the people I want to follow as I pull out a lawn chair and watch the multi billionaire recoil from a very costly mistake. I got butter lovers popcorn.

[genshinlover101]

Hey, I hope you’re doing alright, May I request headcannons Hu tao, Eula, and Jean with a s/o who makes dark jokes? They aren’t depressed or anything like that, they just enjoy dark humor. Sorry for the weird request, and keep up the great work!

Her Reaction to Your Dark Humor

Characters: Hu Tao, Eula, Jean

Warnings: none

A/n: nothings weird! Don’t worry I think this concept is great especially with the girls picked, I already had inspiration flowing even before I started writing

• Hu Tao’s humor was literally dark as well, it was the whole reason why the entirety of Liyue didn’t like her. Little did anyone know it was just her way of coping.

• She would laugh at your jokes and in fact join them. She would carry it on until it died or was no longer funny.

• Hu Tao would just change the subject whenever you made a particularly dark joke. She knew you could handle yourself and were mentally stable.

“Dang, that was deep.” Hu Tao said in response to one of your jokes, it was a little too dark for her to join in comfortably.

“Was it?” You asked confused. You pondered and tried to retrace your words but you still didn’t think much of it. Knowing Hu Tao was practically the queen of dark humor you took what she had into consideration if she found something dark. 

“Yeah it’s alright though,” Hu Tao giggled and gave you a wide toothy grin, she wrapped her arms around you very animated leaving space for Jesus in between you two.

“But I like that about you though ya know? Never change,” She cuddled up against you closing the gap, rubbing her face on your chest. “No one else can tolerate me, so having someone else who understands my humor is a dream come true.”

• Eula didn’t really have a sense of humor because of her level of maturity, but when she did joke around it was to pick or tease you.

• Whenever you made dark jokes she didn’t care. If they were too far she’d just stare at you, maybe make a comment. But honestly, she found some of them funny and would just scoff.

• Depending on if you responded to her criticism of you, would determine her reaction to you. She never made a big deal about it or never joined whenever you made a particularly dark joke. She knew you were capable and therefore didn’t doubt you.

“I’m simply going to pretend like I didn’t hear that,” Eula said as she didn’t even heed you a glance, she was focused on the state of her nails as she sat carefreely.

“Hm~ you thought that was too far?” You recalled your words and maybe it was? You couldn’t tell at this point though, you were too far down the rabbit hole.

“Of course, but I don’t mind. Just be careful someone might misunderstand the next time.” She still remained unfocused, as if she was used to trauma jokes. You couldn’t tell if that was a good or bad thing.

“Yes ma’am anything for you my liege.” You sarcastically mocked.

“You know I’m serious. I worry about you sometimes socially. I know I’m not one to talk but you have to know there is a time and place for everything in this world.”

• Jean’s humor was trash. Absolute garbage. Consisted of dad jokes or classics. “What time is it?” “Time for you to get a watch.”

• Jean would have two reactions to your jokes, no in-between. She would either not understand, therefore not react. Or she would scold you, depending on how dark would be her level of seriousness.

• I swear Jean would suggest Therapy with all the best intentions when you would go too far. She knew you were mentally stable but sometimes she doubted herself.

“Um…” Jean averted eye contact and you could tell she was uncomfortable. “Do you want me to recommend a therapist?”

“Absolutely not darling, why would I need one?” You asked puzzled, you thought your joke was fine just like any normal joke you would tell.

“That sounded a bit personal.” She wrapped her hand over yours to make sure you were okay even though she was aware nothing was traumatic in your life.

“Oh. Do you think? I thought it was average for me.” You thought twice about it.

“No surely that was above average. Someone might take your joke the wrong way, and if they do I won’t be there to get you out of it. Be careful what you say.” She said resuming her normal duties.

#hu tao x reader #eula x reader #jean x reader #genshin klee #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #hu tao #eula lawrence #jean gunnhildr

[pepperpills]

karl caught s/o masturbating

jeez, i got so excited for my first request that i may have made it a bit too long hehe hope u enjoy it

once it is said "s/o", i chose to do it karl x female reader because it is easier for me, but i'm sorry if that is not what you wanted .-.

here it is (needless to say it has NSFW content, so kids, skip this one):

Saturday Surprise

It was still Saturday. Usually, it would make you happy, because that meant you would have some time alone with Karl, he would take a break from work and his obsessions just to find himself cuddling your hair as you two watched one of the marvellous Romanian sunsets on the factory’s ceiling. But not this Saturday. He was gone for the weekend for “fixing those bastards, kitten” he said when he told a gloomy you about his soon-to-happen absence.

He left on Friday morning after a snoring heavy sleep due to the tiredness you gave him with your goodbye. Heisenberg kissed you on the forehead and told you he wouldn’t be long, but any time away from him felt like eternity to you.

You wandered the factory corridors – the ones you found safe -, ended up in a room full of his records and played a little music, dancing alone. It wasn’t bad, but at night, when you laid on that queen sized bed, oppressed by that sea of pillows unused, you missed him hard and could only fall asleep after putting on one of his explorer’s-like shirts. It has his smell all over it: metal, burned wood and a bit of oil too. It was infinitely reassuring and made you sleep tight.

The thing is, when you woke up on that lazy Saturday, not much later than the sun, lycans’ roars and crows’ croaks, that scent had you, well… wet, as if you had wet dreams with Karl, and maybe you had. The scent was like waking up to him, and as you wake up, you close your eyes and imagine him hugging you, sleepy mumbling into your hair, holding you to that position, trying to convince you to go back to sleep; you knew, on days like that, you would have to convince him to get up, he would hold you even tighter, let out low curses, harmless ones, and when he was lastly wakeful, he would attack you with tickles and fondness.

You snort in frustration and get up. A heavy breakfast would drive your mind away from it, you think. Anyways, you just have to hold it until he is back as you knew how teased he gets when you have a little fun without him. On your way to the kitchen, though, something else attracts your attention. His office door is opened. It wasn’t a secret, you could come in and out as you wished, just making sure not to disturb him on his work, but you never really pocked around there as he was always nearby. And there it is: a unique opportunity.

You sneak into the room as if you had bad intentions, you even imagine a cartoonish version of yourself rubbing hands, maliciously smiling at nothing in particular. His office has some filing cupboards on a wall, where you find nothing but his journals, notes on tests he applied and pictures of his experiments, some of its drawers have junk too and it is more or less disorganized. The right part of the office has a surgery bed and some tools, as you are not really interested in that, you don’t take a closer look.

Instead, you go directly to his chair. It is one of these quilted black director’s chairs with a tall backrest. There is a small, mahogany chest on the table in front of it, along with some minor metal parts, a lamp and some papers. You try to open it, but it is locked. You sigh, imagining what is inside. Maybe a gift? You wonder. Anyways, that morning laziness starts to get to you again and you feel comfortable in his chair. You close your eyes and can’t help yourself, but to remember all those memories of you two having fun in that exact spot. It arouses you instantly.

You were already wet, but now you are desperately needy. You recall getting on your knees one night when he refused to go to bed, even though he was restless, so, to convince him, you started kissing his waist line, going down, slowly, touching his strong, thick thighs, his moans like opera to your ears. Your hand slips into your pantie, automatically starting to stimulate your clit with your pussy soaked. You moan imagining it was his firm scarred hand rubbing you roughly, trying his best to satisfy you intensely on his steadfast manner.

You picture him coming from behind the chair, he touches your shoulders, put a little pressure on them, then let his fingers reach your breast through his shirt you are wearing, playing with your already hard nipples. You let low moans out, getting more and more turned on with that thought.

“Karl…” You whisper in pleasure.

“Yes?” A leonine voice responds from the door.

You open your eyes on a rush, turning fast to look a savage Heisenberg in the eye. He is framed by the door frame, looking like a man who just finished a mission, a hard day of work, but still has the energy. He still has his glasses on and is holding his hammer.

He walks in, saying nothing, which disturbs you deeply. He lays his hammer on the wall by the door and walks towards you. You can see his annoyed eyes because of the angle, he is too close, staring down at you.

“Having fun, ain’t you?” He asks, maliciously. “Hope you left enough for me.” Karl, then, smiles, not a sympathy smile, but a vicious one, one that tells you he will have you until the last drop of cum drains from him.

“Karl… I’m sorry. I’m gonna make it up to you.” You promise, almost on your knees.

“Oh, I bet you will.” He tells you. “Lean on the table.” It is an order.

You don’t have enough time to be confused, you don’t care anyway, your heart is beating fast, both because of fear and lust. You do as he says, leaning on the table so he has a privileged view of your butt. He spanks it one, two, three times, making you scream, getting even wetter than before.

“Tell me how much you like it, kitten.” He whispers fiercely in your ear.

“I-I love it, Karl, please…” You say in between moans as his hand grips your butt firmly.

His fingers touch your skin down the pantie, never penetrating your pussy, just messing around with your juice, pressing your butthole, entering just a little. You are hotter than ever, feeling tempted by this anal play, wishing for more.

All at once, the mahogany chest on the table spreads open – it has inner metal parts after all - and you see a shiny metal thing in there. You don’t recognize it at first, but when it starts flying to your back and you notice a black ornamental rose pinned to a drop-shaped object, you realise it is an anal plug. You groan to it as its cold metallic surface touches your hole. So Karl had a new toy hidden from you. That excites you even more.

“I don’t know if brats like you deserve this…” Heisenberg teases you, defiance sounding all over his tone.

“I will behave, I promise.” You promise again, willing to do whatever the hell he wants you to.

“Very well.” He says and you feel it slipping into you, making you feel so damn good.

You move your hips like crazy, feeling both his hand on your pussy and the plug in your ass. It feels good. Feels terrific.

“Argh, kitten, if you keep like that…” He groans and you know you have him hard, oh, you bet he has a major boner pulsating on those pants.

And you are absolutely right. Heisenberg is almost melting with the vision of your butt. Every time you move your hips you touch his delicious rod on. He has to bite his lips not to give you the satisfaction, but God damn it! you know how to make things hard for him. He can’t take no more of that.

Karl sits on the chair and pulls you straight to his lap, you sit on his cock and moan now knowing how you made him feel. He pulls it off, not even minding the rest of his clothes, just yours as he realises you from his shirt, having you completely naked for his gaze.

You don’t think much before hooping in his cock, feeling it all inside you at once, pressed by your very stimulated pussy and the plug. Both inside of you, giving you so much pleasure you could faint.

He is moaning savagely, griping your waist, making you shake for him, coming up and down like a happy rabbit, his happy pup.

He can’t stand the vision of your boobs jumping right in front of his eyes, so he grabs one and bites it. You scream due to surprise, but a wave of pleasure flows through your body. You are close, very close.

“Karl, I think I am gonna come.” You tell him, spoiled, moaning.

“I am too, buttercup.” He answers, sucking your neck, leaving a mark for sure, just to visually state that you are his.

You intensify the speed feeling as he tightens his grip. His cock is pulsating so much right now, you feel it all inside of you, you feel his cum being released deep down, filling you entirely and it is all for you and because of you.

You both are panting, completely weary because of so much exercise and pleasure. You hug him and burry your face on the curve of his neck and his collarbone, smelling the smell of metal, burned wood and a bit of oil too.

“I missed you.” You whisper in his ear.

“I missed you too, kitten.” He answers, cuddling your hair.

#resident evil #re8 #karl heisenberg #re village #karl heisenberg x reader #resident evil 8 village #heisenberg #heisendaddy #heisenberg resident evil #resident evil viii #resident evil 8 fanfic #resident evil village #re8 karl heisenberg #resident evil heisenberg #fanfic #re fanfic #heisenberg headcanon #lord heisenberg

[moonlightwritesdisney]

DREAM COME TRUE. -- WYATT LYKENSEN.

Paring: Wyatt Lykensen X FEMALE! READER

Requested: Yes / No

Warnings: foul language. nudity. graphic descriptions of blood and cannibalism. sexual activity. 

Summary: Weeks after your old elementary friend had finally vanished from all existence everything seems to finally go back to normal. Standing in a coffee shop you met him. And all hell breaks loose.

SEQUEL TO ‘YOU’.

PREVIOUSLY . . .

You were fashioned in the bathroom taking a warm cloth and bringing it towards your face wiping off the dried blood. You sucked in a breathe the sound of your beating heart filling your ears. You didn’t feel at all ashamed for what you had done. That bastard human deserved it.

The overbearing of your anxiety flared, you were worried you might get in huge trouble, since unfortunately, the human is never to blame. You had gone to bed that night in hopes for a better day the next morning -- the only problem was, he saw everything. 

THE DIRT BELOW HIS BROWN BOOTS became sore while he had previously been peering into your small window for the past five minutes watching you. Your brown pale skin covered in the blood that wasn’t your own. Your face dry and lips cracked from the crying you had done, you felt numb. Your heat besting rapidly in anxiety.

The mirror reflected your bruised image. The bags under your eyes were a dark purple, your eyes a dark brown with widened pupils ( a side effect of a broken Z-band which usually wears off after twelve hours ). Your sink water turned a bright pink as the last of his blood washed down the drain. Disappearing into the drain pipes.

Your mascara smeared down your cheeks, your nose and cheeks red and your eyes puffy. ‘Your going to kill him’. A selfish voice spat in his head, his sharp claws dug into the untouched flesh of his tan palm. He was furious.

How could someone so shameful have the power of destroying someone who was so innocent? She was a ray of pure sunshine. His sunshine. The pondering question he already knew the answer to racked the Alpha wolf’s brain. He couldn’t understand it.

You were so innocent. Baby like. His baby. He felt guilt.

A page pant of sadness washed over him. He had wished it was him, who could comfort you from what had just happened. ‘Shh baby it’s okay I’m here now, your safe, completely safe, I won’t let anyone ever harm you again, ever, never again. I am so sorry.

So sorry. So sorry.’ He had imagined you sobbing desperately in his chest the ache of your body he felt against his own skin, he’d stroke your arm softly and whisper sweet nothing in your ear.

He’d reassure you constantly, be their for you when having to deal with the gained trauma even after the act. He’d give you anything you needed. Leave you loving encouraging notes in your belongings. Hold you every night as you slept. Lock every door and window in the house.

He’d lay bare with you in bed for hours just to make sure his babygirl was okay. Although he couldn’t help blame himself. He knew that he couldn’t just burst into your house and save you from your attacker, even after the matter.

‘oh uhm yeah, I’ve totally been watching you for months, that includes changing, and showering, and well... pleasing yourself too.

I’ve seen it all, and uhm I’m kinda in love with you too so I mean that’s a plus, uhm I know literally everything about you, how you are very persistent in organization and you hate cheesy romantic comedies.

How you’d just want to stay up until three a.m. reading a book about truce crime. How you can girl over the most underrated music artists and how you hate a guy that plays dumb in the most basic way. I know you absolutely hate roses anything I’m missing?’

He chuckled at the image of you stunned. He knew more about you than you knew yourself. How you’d jump into his arms, the feeling of your skin against his. Your soft lips brushing against his neck. He’d want it all.

That would immensely creep you out. His intention would to never make you uncomfortable. So the pain only grew worse. Not being able to call you by your name. Hold you. Take in the surreal beauty that was Y/N.

His white fangs pressed against his bottom teeth. His blood boiled to the brim. He wanted to make that disgusting human pay for what he did. His stomach twirled in mixed emotion.

He so badly wanted to hold you in his chest and comfort you, but some things have complicated consequences.

In the low midst of the night he kept a sharp eye on the human who groggily made his way down the deserted dirt road, stalking the weak being beneath the depths of the dark forest.

Small boots could be heard from miles stretched along the black canvas of the open air, the human male scanning his surroundings for some place to rest or.. a possible shortcut that could lead him home.

Wyatt licked his dry lips breathing out slowly watching the human stand in the clearing with curiosity. ‘Kill him’. ‘He deserves to suffer for what he did’. ‘Y/N’. ‘Think of Y/N’. ‘Gut him’.

The imploding thoughts trying to take control of him. His pupils shrunk and turned a bright yellow his fangs grew from the K-9’s in his mouth. He breathed heavily and beast like trying to regain his composure. Sure, he thought of you.

How you would’ve told him ‘this is dangerous and could get you caught by wolf patrol don’t’. But, the monster side of her would’ve agreed with him. Could’ve given into the impulses.

Could’ve joined in on the eccentric thrill of gutting a human to their bones watching as blood came spitting out of their body, falling limp to the ground and squirming like a dead rabbit, until their last breath leaves the closure of their lungs.

But he bit down on the inside of his cheek hard and shoved the impulsive thoughts aside. He caught attention of the human stepping through the clearing, Wyatt swiftly disappeared behind a tree. (Thank his wolf stealth.)

He watching closely behind the large oak as the midnight sky lit up with thousands of glowing stars the bright moon floating still. His feet crunched under the small wood chips and loose dirt, which made Wyatt’s right ear twitch occasionally. 

The human was lost, he had reached up to a large clearing in the middle of the forest ‘maybe this will be a quicker way home’. He thought to himself as he squeezed his way through the thick pine trees that scratched his face and dark leather. Little did he know he wouldn’t be going home.

An owl called in the distance alarming the human. Shrugging it off he walked a few more feet bonfire stopping in the middle of the clearing an eerie feeling began to set it and shake throughout his body. Wyatt quickly ran behind the large oak tree causing the bushes to rustle.

The human quickly threw his head around to the source of the sound, Wyatt felt his heart pace quickly , quicker as each second passed.

The moonstone laid on Wyatt’s chest grew a bright blue his sharp K-9s’ growing to a slick point and his eyes glowing a bright deeming yellow.

A low growl erupted from his stomach the animalistic nature taking grasp of his human side. The human caught sight of a dark shadow peeking out from behind the tree. He bolted the other direction.

His breathing paced as his nimble legs carried him the south west end of the dark dreary forest. Mud crushed under his boots his lungs burning and heaving out of exhaustion. Wyatt was faster. He dodged past trees and bushes running at almost fifty miles.

His leg got caught on a sharp tree ranch nearby he knew that whatever was out to kill him was going to make it quick. He was scared. He pulled with force which caused the branch to cut into the soft flesh of his leg, blood seeped through the blue denim and into Wyatt’s nostrils.

Jumping over large rocks and the bushes he caught up to the human quickly grabbing him by his jacket he pushed to human to the ground and used the force of his arms to hold him in a pin.

The human breathed heavily his eyes widened in fear “please .... don’t hurt me”. He spoke weak like it was an excuse to let him go. Wyatt’s eyes glowed his lips formed a deep snarl.

“Let you go? And what, you continue raping other innocent women”. He whispered a deeply distorted voice replacing Wyatt’s usual calm manner. The monster had completely taken over. The human whimpered and squirmed like a dead animal.

A scream left the human’s mouth and soared above the trees as Wyatt bite deeply into the salty flesh. The blood was warm a large chunk of his skin hung off of Wyatt’s mouth before he spit it out discarding it.

The human grunted and moaned in pain shooting out lines of foul words. Wyatt smirked as he straddled the humans hips in place allowing him to not move.

In panic the human began to wail his arms, the young wolf felt his heart erupt in his chest. The watched as the human wailed in half death, he felt evincible.

The blood squirted and poured out of the human’s uncared wound. The blood tasted sweet in his mouth, a true delicacy.

About fifteen minutes after he threw the discarded bones into a six feet deep ditch he had dug after killing the human.

His mouth, arms, and clothes all drenched in the human’s bodily fluids and chunks of his flesh on his chest.

He smelt foul. He knew he did. He wanted to make sure you were okay but couldn’t come to you smelling like this.

He had walked the path he knew like the back of his hand spotting the small watering hole, he stood at the shore of the small lake the moon glowing brightly over him.

Taking off his fur coat he stripped himself of his purple hoodie before slowly bringing up his white tank top over his head revealing his broad v line, toned abs and chest stained with blood.

Unclasping his jeans he slide them down towards his knees kicking off his boots and white socks. Then came his boxers.

He engulfed himself in the lake slowly, it was freezing cold but was used to it. The water has risen up to the middle of his waist, he began to vigorously rub off the dried blood splashing cold water in his face and arms.

Dipping himself under the cold lake he rushed up and breathed out coughing. Moving his wet hair out of his face he caught sight of a dark shadowed figure that stood at the shore. He could’ve sworn it was you. Your pale skin glimmered beautifully under the moonlight.

He didn’t move a muscle, yet he waited to see what your next intention was. A robe you were wearing slowly feel to the ground as you now stood naked your gaze kept on his, you slowly entered the water.

Your figure made your way through the cold water, his eyes never leaving yours he was absolutely stunned. This had to be surreal.

Your hips moved in the water causing ripples to shift outwards, your brown eyes fluttered innocently. He stood in front of you awestricken, you were gorgeous.

He was scared that maybe if he had made one wrong move you’d leave, so there he stood motionless waiting for you to respond.

You were now in front of him, your naked glory he kept his eyes on you out of full curiosity. Your face inches away from his you guided his hands towards your side his warm arms wrapped securely around your waist.

The tension was lingering, his heart was pacing at an irregular pace questions swirling around in his mind but nonetheless, he wouldn’t change a thing.

The two of your lips met in pure bliss, moving in synchronization your fingernails traveling up the back of his neck and into his soft curls his hands gripping your hips lightly not wanting to hurt you without permission.

His lips trailed from your jaw and to your neck where he softly bite and sucked gaining small moans from you in response.

Heavy breathing and moans began to fall from your lips as he held you in his arms his nails digging into the sides of your hips causing you to squirm, the fingers of his right hand gently sliding over your folds.

Unfortunately for Wyatt, he awoke in a panic, his head was spinning and he was covered in blood. His brown eyes scanned his surroundings, the green trees a dim green and the woods ground wet and sloshy from the rain the night before.

It was a dream.

Fuck. It was a dream.

Shivers shot down his spine and throughout his body as he remembered the horny dream he had. God he wished it where real. He observed his clothing. He was drenched in blood. His whole body.

He pondered to himself in confusion then it clicked. After killing the human he had retreated back to the clearing and fell asleep after ... Waking up he knew aside from the perks of his wolf powers one downside was that wolves couldn’t remember events that happen after they detach from their human form.

He licked his chapped numb lips while his ears perked up, sirens could be heard from miles away, holy shit. The police had found his body. Quickly, he stood up and ran left towards large similar oaks trees, lucky for him he knew the woods so it was easy for him. 

Suddenly while his head was turned behind him making sure he wasn’t seen he quickly looked forward and collided with anther body a loud grunt slipped passed his lips as he fell on the hard soil, groaning. 

#wyatt lykensen #wyatt zombies #Disney Channel #Disney #disney zombies #writes for Disney #lykensen #yandere #pearce joza #disney imagine #imagine #writing angst #z o m b i e s #z o m b i e s 2 #seabrook #addison zombies #bucky buchanan #willa lykensen #mal bertha #evie descendants #disney descendants

[variousqueerthings]

Daniel LaRusso: A Queer Feminine Fairytale Analysis Part 1 of 3

Disclaimers and trigger warnings: 

1. These fairytales are European, although there’s often overlap in themes globally. I know European fairytales better, which is essentially the reason I’m not going to branch out too far. I opted to also stick to Western movies so as not to narrow things down, but also in particular “waves hand towards all of Ghibli” amongst many others. There’s a reason the guys in Ghibli are so gender.

2. TW for discussions of rape culture and rape fantasies

EDIT: FUCK I’M A GOBLIN CHILD! FORGOT TO PUT A MASSIVE MASSIVE THANK YOU TO @mimsyaf​ WHO HAS BEEN THE NICEST, KINDEST EDITOR ON THESE THOUGHTS AND CONTRIBUTED SO MUCH TO THEM AND GENERALLY IS A WONDERFUL PERSON!

Part 2

Part 3

1. Introduction

I recently wrote a little thing, which was about Daniel as a fairytale protagonist – specifically one that goes through some of the kinds of transformations that are often associated with female protagonists of fairytales.

I used quotes from Red Riding Hood, Labyrinth, Buffy The Vampire Slayer, and Dracula, which, as an aside – the overlap between fairytales, horror, and fantasy and the ways each of those genres delve into very deep, basic questions of humanity and the world is something that will always make me feral. I will be generally sticking with fairytales though. Also I am very excited about some of those Labyrinth concepts going around!

I’m going to use “feminine” and “masculine” in both gendered (as in relating specifically to people) and non-gendered (as in relating to codes) ways throughout this, depending on context.

To be binary for a moment, because sample-sizes of other genders are low, women are usually able to fall into either feminine or masculine arcs, although sometimes the masculine-coded woman can become a “not like the other girls” stereotype and the feminine-coded woman a shallow cliché – in both cases they’re also under more scrutiny and judgement, so it’s always worth asking “is this character not working for me because of the writing or because I have ingrained biases? (Both?)”

Men don’t often get feminine-coded arcs. Because. Probably a mix of biases and bigotry. But there are some that seem to have slipped beneath the shuttered fence of “Sufficient Narrative Testosterone,” and Daniel LaRusso is one of them.

2. Some Dude Comparisons (Men Doing Manly Action-Hero Things like being trans symbolism and loving your girlfriend… seriously those things are hella manly, I wish we saw more of that onscreen…)

a. Neo

Much like Neo The Matrix, whose journey is filled with transgender subtext and specifically and repeatedly references Alice In Wonderland, Daniel doesn’t go through quite the kind of hero's journey usually associated with Yer Standard Male Hero, especially the type found in the 80s/90s.

Neo is my favourite comparison, because of the purposefulness of his journey as a trans narrative and the use of Alice. But I’m sure there are other non-traditional male heroes out there (but are they trans tho? Please tell me, I want trans action heroes).

Neo “passes” as a socially acceptable man, but online goes by a different name - the name he prefers to be known by - feels like there’s something inherently wrong about the world around him and his body’s place in that society, and then gets taken down the rabbit hole (with his consent, although without really “knowing” what he’s consenting to) to discover that it’s the world that’s wrong - not him. And by accessing this truth he can literally make his body do and become whatever he wants it to.

Yay. (The message of the Matrix is actually that trans people can fly).

Neo is – kind of like Daniel – a strange character for Very Cis Straight Guys to imprint on. He spends most of the first movie unsure about what’s going on, out of his depth, and often getting beaten up. He is compared to Alice several times and at the end he dies. He loses. He has to be woken up with true love’s kiss, in a fun little Sleeping Beauty/Snow White twist. Yes, after that he can fly, but before that he’s getting dead-named and hate-crimed by The Most Obvious Stand-In For Normativity, Agent Smith, and being carried by people far more physically capable than he is (people who also fall outside of normative existence).

Trinity and Neo in The Matrix. The fact that a lot of the time neither of them is gendered is something. Literally brought to life by true love’s kiss.

I’m not about to argue that Daniel LaRusso is purposefully written along these same thought processes, so much as the luck of the way he was written, cast, directed, acted, and costumed all came together in the right way. And this is even more obvious when compared to That Other Underdog Fite Movie That Was By The Same Director as Karate Kid.

b. Rocky

The interesting thing about Rocky is that he is (despite being a male action icon) also not written as a Traditionally Masculine person. Large portions of Rocky – and subsequent Rocky films – are his fear and insecurity about fighting vs his inability to apply his skills to another piece of work and wanting to do right by his girlfriend (and future wife), Adrian. The fighting is most often pushed onto him against his will.

Much like in Karate Kid there is barely any fighting in Rocky I. Most of it is dedicated to how much Rocky loves Adrian and the two of them getting together. The fight is – again like in Karate Kid – a necessary violence, rather than a glorified one (within the plot, obviously watching any movie like this is also partly about the badassness of some element of the violence – whether stamina or the crane kick, it’s all about not backing down against a more powerful opponent).

Rocky is played by Sylvester Stallone. He’s tough, he’s already a fighter (albeit in the movie not a great one yet), he’s taking the fight for cash – so although he’s also soft-spoken and sweet, you’re aware of the fact that he’s got those traits that’d make a male audience go “Hell Yeah, A Man,” or whatever it is a male audience does watching movies like that… cis straight men imprinting on oiled muscle men sure is a strange phenomenon, why do you wanna watch a boxing match? So you can watch toned guys groaning and grappling with each other? Because you want to feel like A Man by allowing yourself to touch the skin of other men?

Apollo and Rocky in Rocky III. This sequence also includes prolonged shots of their crotches as they run. Sylvester Stallone directed this. This was intentional. Bros.

Daniel LaRusso is not built like that. But that doesn’t really have to matter. Being smallish and probably more likely to be described as “pretty” than handsome, and not having a toxic masculine bone in his body does not a feminine archetype make. It just makes a compelling (and pretty) underdog. 

c. Daniel

So where does the main difference really lie? Between Rocky and Daniel? Well, Rocky has the plot in his hands – Daniel, largely, does not. Rocky is acting. Daniel is reacting or being pushed into situations by others. Just like our boy Neo. Just like Alice in Wonderland, Cinderella, Snow White – just like some of the women in some contemporary(ish) fairytale films like Buttercup (Princess Bride), Dorothy (Wizard of Oz), or Sarah (Labyrinth).

This isn’t a necessary negative about stories about girls and women, so much as looking at what it is girls and women in fairytales have/don’t have, what they want, and how they’re going to get it. It’s about power (lack of), sexuality (repressed, then liberated), men, and crossing some taboo lines. It’s also about queerness.

3. The Karate Kid Part One: Leaving Home

Daniel LaRusso is a poor, skinny, shortish kid (played by a skinny, shortish twenty-two-year old) who doesn’t fit in after having been taken away from the home he was familiar with against his will. Not every male protagonist in a fairytale leaves of his own will, and not every female protagonist leaves under duress – Red Riding Hood, for example, seems perfectly happy to enter the forest. However generally a hero is “striking out to make his fortune,” and generally a heroine is fleeing or making a bargain or being married off or waiting for help to arrive. She is often stuck (and even Red Riding Hood requires saving at some point).

Daniel then encounters a beautiful, lovely girl on the beach, puts on a red hoodie (red is significant), is beaten up by a large, attractive bully, loses what little clout he may have had with his new friends, and generally has a mostly miserable time until he befriends and is saved by Mr Miyagi. To do a little Cinderella comparison: Miyagi is the fairy godmother who pushes Daniel to go to the ball in disguise as well, and that disguise falls to pieces as he’s running away.

Then Daniel asks for help, Miyagi gets him enrolled in a Karate Tournament, and starts teaching him. Daniel wins the tournament and gets the girl, the end.

While Daniel has chutzpah and is a wonderful character, none of the big events are initiated by him, except for the initial going to the forest/beach (and within all of these events Daniel absolutely makes choices – I’m not saying he’s passive): Lucille takes them to California, Miyagi pushes him to go to the dance, Miyagi again decides to enroll him in the tournament and trains him, and only because Kreese doesn’t allow for any other option, Ali is the one who more often than not approaches Daniel, and even their first encounter is pushed by Daniel’s friends.

Daniel really is at a dance/ball in disguise and receives a flower from a girl who recognises him through said disguise, it’s unbearable! It’s adorable! I get it Ali, I fucking get it!

Daniel’s main journey within this – apart from not getting killed by karate thugs (love u Johnny <3) and kissing Ali – is to learn from Miyagi. He’s not necessarily a full-on feminine fairytale archetype at this point, although there are fun things to pull out of it, mainly in the context of later films and Cobra Kai: the subtext of karate and how that builds throughout all the stories, the red clothes, the themes of obsession, his being targeted by boys whose masculinity is more than a little bit toxic and based on shame… more on all that coming up.

He doesn’t technically get a home until they build him a room at Miyagi’s place, but he definitely leaves the woods at the end of this one, trophy lifted in the air after being handed to him by a tearful Johnny and all.

And then they made a sequel.

4. The Karate Kid Part Two: Not Out Of The Woods Yet

Daniel’s won the competition, Kreese chokes out Johnny for daring to lose and cry, more life-lessons are given (for man without forgiveness in heart…) and Daniel and Ali break-up off-screen, confirming that TKK1 was not really about the girl after all, which, despite Daniel and Kumiko having wonderful chemistry, is also an ongoing theme. Daniel enters the screen in The Most Baby-Blue Outfit seen since Tiana’s dress in Princess and the Frog? Or that dress in Enchanted? Maybe Cinderella’s (technically silver, but later depicted as blue)? 

(Sidenote: At everyone who says Sam ought to wear a callback to that suit,  you are correct and sexy).

Surprise, Miyagi’s building him a room.

Double-surprise, Miyagi needs to go to Okinawa.

Triple surprise, Daniel reveals he’s going with him, because he’s his son dammit.

The Karate Kid Part Two is maybe the least Daniel-LaRusso-Feminine-Fairytale-Protagonist of the three, because it’s not really his movie. Daniel runs around with Kumiko (aka the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen), continues to be The Best Non-Toxic Boy a middle-aged Okinawan karate master could ask for, lands himself another Built Karate Rival (twice is just a coincidence, right? Right?), and eventually doesn’t die while wearing red again – twice: When Chozen almost strangles him to death at the Miyagi dojo and then during the final fight. The Saving Of The Girl (both the little girl in the storm and Kumiko) actually puts him in a more traditional masculine space than the previous movie did, even if the main theme of the film is about compassion and kindness and by the end, once more the boy whose masculinity is built on rockhard abs and matchsticks is on his knees. Daniel just has that power over big boys. It’s called kick/punch them in the face hard enough that they see stars.

There’s an aside to be made here about how much Daniel really is an observer in other peoples stories in this, although he is the factor that sends both Chozen and Kumiko into completely different directions in life (Chozen and Kumiko main characters when?) Anyway he comes out of it presumably okay, despite being almost killed. Maybe a few therapy sessions and he’ll get over it. Too bad Terry Silver is lurking around the corner…

5. The Karate Kid Part Three: The Big Bad Wolf

Alright people have written Words about the third movie. It’s fascinating. It’s odd. It’s eye-straining. It’s like olives – you’re either fully onboard the madness or it’s too off-putting for you (or you’re like. Eh, don’t see what all the fuss is about either way...). It’s basically a non-consensual secret BDSM relationship between a guy in his thirties (played by a Very Tall twenty-seven year old Thomas Ian Griffith) and a 17/18 year old (played by a shorter twenty-eight year old Ralph Macchio).

Also recently we got more information on Mr. Griffith’s input on the uh… vibes of the film. Apparently it wasn’t just The Sweetness of Ralph Macchio’s face, the screenplay (whatever that amounted to in the first place – release the script!), the soundtrack, the direction to not tone it down under any circumstances, the fact that Macchio categorically refused to play a romance between himself and an actress who was sixteen, no: it was also TIG coming up with fun ways to torture Daniel’s character and suggesting these to the director. Clearly everyone has fun hurting Mr Macchio (including Mr Macchio).

The point is that aaallll of that amounts to that Intense Homoerotic Dubiously-Consented-To D/s subtext that haunts the movie and gives a lot of fun stuff to play with. It’s also a film that – if we’re analysing Daniel along feminine-coded fairytale lines recontextualises his role in this universe.

The Fairytale goes topsy-turvy. Through the looking glass. Enter Big Bad Wolf stage right. Karate is a metaphor for Daniel’s bisexual awakening. 

“Oh, when will an attractive man touch me in ways that aren’t about hurting me?�� he asks after two movies of being hurt by boys with rippling muscles. “Why do men continue to notice me only to hit me? Do you think wearing red is making me too noticeable? Anyway, Mr Silver looked really good in his gi today.” 

Daniel’s diary must be a trip.

#daniel larusso #the karate kid #cobra kai #ck #johnny lawrence #cobra kai meta #my writing #part one of three #some comparisons to matrix and rocky because I love to talk about those #terry silver

[obsessive-ego]

Beetlejuice x reader (ambiguous pronouns)

Prompt: Beetlejuice starts digging around your things in the dead of night. Not having the most structured sleep schedule, you hear him, and in the state of sleep deprivation forget that Beetlejuice was staying over, this mistaking him for an intruder. Hilarity ensues.

It was late, nearing one am. You only noticed this because you realised you had been sat in the dark, which you swore it had just been light, on another video binge that ended up rabbit holeing through videos of countless interesting topics. You sighed at yourself and your lack of awareness when it came to the passage of time. You've done this exact thing many times before. You took off your headphones and set your sights on actually trying to sleep. With the lack of a bulky headset blocking your ears, however, sounds of rustling and movement echoed from outside your room. You stiffened, listening to it. Someone was definitely in your house, there was no mistaking it. Carefully, slowly, you slipped out of bed to grab the bat out from under your bed. An impulse buy, you only bought it because it had "Li'l Bitch" carved into the top and the mental image of "accidentally" imprinting that on someone with a whack made you laugh. While remembering this made you grin, it faded at you hearing a soft thud. Were they upstairs or downstairs? It was hard to tell with the closed door. How long had the intruder even been in the house? Focusing on the problem at hand, you crept to the door and slowly opened it, peeking around it. You cringed when it let out a creak, straining to hear if there was more movement.

Thankfully, whoever was present was not sneaking around upstairs, meaning your awareness of their presence was undetected. You could hear their movements clearer now, and they were clearly downstairs. You were so grateful to yourself for having the common sense to keep your more important things in your room. Creeping over to the stairs, you kept your eyes peeled for any movement in the halls. Throat dry in fear, knuckles white from the death grip you had on your bat, you descended. You made sure that the stairs wouldn't creak by tiptoeing along the sides, slowly putting pressure in each step before commiting. You did not want to alert the potential threat to your presence. They could be armed. They could have intent to kill. Sneaking up on them and knocking them out was the best bet, the cops can be called once they were subdued.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, you worked out that the culprit was in the living room. You listened close, for any hint as to where exactly, before slowly inching closer for a glance. They were faced away for you, searching. It was dark, no lights on, so they wouldn't see a shadow if you snuck up. All you had to do was be quiet and get a hefty hit.

Taking in a deep breath, you advanced, bat at the ready. Your heart hammered loudly in your chest. Blood rushed in your ear as you got closer, eyes scanning over the vague silhouette for any clue that they'd turn. You froze as they straightened up.

"Nothing… Bet they keep all the juicy stuff hidden…"

So they were looking for things to steal! Taking another step closer, you got ready to swing. A creak of the floor betrayed you.

"Huh?"

Instincts kicking in, you swung the bat at their head as they turned. You put way too much force in it, in your panic. With a pained yell, the head went flying across the room, leaving a headless body standing in front of you. You stumbled back in shock, a scream getting caught in your throat. The body felt in the air for its lack of a head, to check it was really gone, before feeling around. In it's fumbling it turned on a lamp, and you instantly recognized who the body belonged to- Beetlejuice. That's right, he was staying over. He must have gotten bored while you "slept"...

"Yowzer! That hurt, doll, when'd you get so strong!?"

The demon cried out from somewhere across the room.

"Over here, dummy, come on!"

He made a series of whistling sounds in the hopes of getting his body to find him. It was fairly useless without the head so it had difficulty following the source of the sound. You watched Beetlejuice's body struggle to locate him as you clutched your chest, recovering from the scare. The anticipation leading up to the shocking conclusion really made the whole ordeal all the more frightening, and your sleep deprived state did nothing to help cool the adrenaline rush. It took a moment for you to realise Beetlejuice was calling your name.

"Will you help me out, already? I'm sorry for looking through your things, I won't do it again, maybe, just pick me up! It's dirty in here!"

You went over to the source of the complaints, a little amused at how you managed to hit his head directly into the fireplace that you never used. Who actually owns working fireplaces anymore, anyway? Dropping the bat, you reached in to pull the soot covered head of Beetlejuice out from there. He coughed his thanks, covering your shirt in more soot.

"Just slap me back on my neck, will you? You have no idea how annoying it is not having limbs."

You pondered the demand. He was looking through your things, and you'd quite like to know why, actually. Not to mention, a swift hit to the head was most likely not enough to teach the demon a lesson in privacy.

You gripped Beetlejuice's head by the hair, irritated by how that made him let out a purr, and shook him to get the dust and dirt off of him. He made an amusing, warbling yell, obviously not too fond of the gesture. His eyes rolled around in dizziness when you stopped. Beetlejuice groaned as you dumped his head onto the couch, tugging his body away from him by it's tie.

"Hey, hey hey, what are you doing?"

"I want to know exactly why you were looking through my things. You're not getting your body back until you tell me, and you better be honest."

Beetlejuice frowned, watching you as you turned the light on. You picked the bat back up, letting go of his body to turn back to Beetlejuice. You'll use your trust weapon to keep his body away from his head, if it tries anything.

"You won't last, you're supposed to be sleeping."

"You're right! That's why if you take too long, I'm going to go upstairs with your body and use it as a nice weighted blanket while you're stuck down here."

"WHAT?! Without me?"

You had to snicker at his dejected whine.

"Yes, that's what I said. Me and Dummy here are going to snuggle while you have to wait for the sun to rise, and probably longer seeing as I'm so tired. I'll definitely wake up late."

You couldn't help but speak in a taunting manner. It wasn't often you had the advantage over the demon, so it was a bit of a power trip when you did.

"You really know how to break down my walls, huh?"

You pushed the body away from you as it moved to grab at your head, as if it wanted to steal it for itself.

"Yep. Tick tock, you wouldn't want to have to wait for so long, right? So unable to do anything but stare at the unchanging surroundings…"

"Ok, ok, fine! I was looking for things you like, I… Well, it was supposed to be a surprise but… I wanted to get you a gift…"

You blinked at him in surprise. A gift? This had to be a joke, or some lie told to hide some other devious intent.

"... I said be honest."

"I am! I heard about the festival, holiday thingy that you breathers have, think it's called, uh, Valentide's Day, and I thought, well, you're my favourite breather, so… I'd get you a gift like people do."

You could feel your cheeks gaining colour as he spoke.

"It's Valentine's day… And typically, that's reserved for romantic gestures…"

"Romantic? Hmm…"

He looked down, pondering.

"Weeell, if you want me to put some petals on your bed too~"

You groaned, poking the body away from you with a bat as it tried to swipe your head again.

"Can I please have my body back, now? I did what you asked, even if it meant spoiling the surprise!"

Beetlejuice pouted at you, giving big pleading eyes in the hopes of you agreeing. You sighed, giving in. He had done as you asked, and you were too tired to milk the otherwise perfect opportunity to mess with him further. You dropped your bat, moving to pick him up.

His body had other plans, however. Hearing you unarm yourself, he lunged forward to snatch you up. You yelled in surprise, struggling in his grip.

"No, no, out 'em down you Dummy!"

Beetlejuice berated it to no avail. You squirmed in the hold, but it was just as strong as Beetlejuice always was. You were stuck.

"Help me out, Beets, there has to be something I can do to make him let go!"

From the face Beetlejuice made, it confirmed that there was. However, he seemed very hesitant to tell.

"I dunno, you might use it against me…"

That was true. Not even a might, having something to one up him would be lovely, and definitely put to good use. You weren't above lying, though.

"Of course not, Beetlejuice! Say, hey, if you tell me, I can still do the cuddling up plan- but with yoooou involved. Head and all!"

Jackpot, his face lit up at the suggestion.

"Really? You'd let me in your bed?"

"Yes! But I need to get out to reunite you to your body first."

Beetlejuice made a hesitant noise, waying up the options. In the end, the enticing over of getting to cuddle up with you was too good to pass up.

"Fine! But do not use it against me, I'll get you back for it if you do! Just… scratch at his ribs, not too hard, and he'll let go."

You nodded, shuffling in the body's hold to reach for them. You dig your nails in, raking them across it's ribs. The body shuddered before it let you out of its vice grip. You stumbled back, watching as it hugged his chest.

"Hold on, are you ticklish?"

"Are you?"

You squinted at Beetlejuice, who mimicked the action. With a tired sigh, you picked his head up and slapped it down onto his neck. He let out a pleased sigh, grabbing his head to turn it 360°, making sure it was firmly in place. You grinned when you noticed "Li'l Bitch" was imprinted on his cheek, and he squinted at you.

"Seriously, though, are you?"

Upon him clawing his hand at you, you kicked your bat up, grabbing it from the air smoothly. He got the message, holding his hands up in surrender. The fact you did that successfully was impressive enough to warrant a minor truce.

You turned away, heading towards the stairs.

"Try anything and I'll banish you. Also turn the lights off before you follow."

"You got it, boss!"

Crawling into bed after the whole ordeal could not have been more satisfying. The exhaustion hit you like a truck. Beetlejuice was quick to follow, diving under the covers before popping his head out, having gotten comfortable on top of you. You realised that he was likely not going to sleep, and he'd instead watch you. You were too sleepy to care, however, already dozing off. For a moment you wondered if he found anything to clue in on what gift to give to you… You decide you'd definitely look into finding in a gift, too, tomorrow.

...

I am hollering

This is beautiful

I cant Express that enough

My Only issue is that the tumblr app doesnt notify me when I get a submission lol

But like wow

I love the head and body bit so much, headless beej being a grabbing bastard 😩👌

Thank you SO much for sharing this

#my art blog is 3dimensionalcircles btw! #hehe free promo #beetlejuice #beetlejuice x reader #this isn't the most polished so sorry if you catch a typo or something pfpf #submission #just gonna add one more tag #musical beetlejuice x reader

[weaver-z]

Birthmark

A short horror story by B.E.

The women in my family have port-wine birthmarks, but none ever had any as strange as mine. 

Not even my mother, who had one that stretched across her forehead like a bloodshot eye, the pale sclera-white of her skin visible under the glaze of reddish violet. She told me, when I was very young, that my grandmother had one, too, along the back of her head--she, unlike us, had been lucky enough to have one that could be hidden under a bonnet, though her blonde hair still revealed it in the summertime.

“Can I see the ones on the legs?” Thomas asks, chewing the inside of his cheek like a cow chewing its cud. I allow it, even though I am a girl, because Thomas and I are friends, alone in the center of a field of tall summer alfalfa. I can feel his eyes boring into the marks on me in fascination, as he moves around me to see my arms, at the marks on those.

“I like the winter best,” I say, pulling my skirt up. “Pa hates it. But I like it, because I can cover all of ‘em up with my clothes, even the ones on my arms.”

“They’re not so bad,” he says. “They’re not on your face, at least.

“Guess so.”

He sits in front of me in the clear space between the eden-green strands of the grass, looking down at the marks on my legs. They are strange, wobbling lines, not blotches or patches--the lowest two are at my knees, lines that wrap around the joint like the borders of a county. 

There are two more on my upper thighs, though I don’t show Thomas those--he’s still a boy, and even though he looks at my markings with nothing but fascination, I still feel a little kernel of shame rubbing at the walls of my chest. The arms are easier to show to him--there are only two marks, just too low to be covered by my short sleeves, broad and awkward unevenly-stamped lines.

“So you’ve got more? On your back?” Thomas asks, sitting on his haunches, looking at me with intent, dust-brown eyes too large for his face.

“Yes. Almost like a corset,” I say, “like a nice corset, the kind rich ladies wear with their jewels. One on my waist, like a belt. One below my shoulders. Oh, and a line down my back, a kinda wobbly one.”

“Like the laced-up part of the corset,” he says, and I nod, happy that he understands. Most boys who live in these parts wouldn’t. He moves around me, and I sit straight, lifting my long frigid-blonde braid so that he can see the very top of the line that travels down my spine, the source of the splotchy red-and-purple river. 

“You ever wish that you could have them wiped off?” He asks. “I heard that God sometimes grants big miracles if you pray for ‘em enough.”

“Maybe,” I say, doubtful. “I’ve tried it. Pa makes me pray each night, but nothing seems to work.”

“Shame about that. Real shame. Maybe God’s busy with somethin’ else--” he says, and suddenly a gunshot rings out in the distance.

He freezes, pupils dilating like a rabbit that hears a hawk, and I scramble for my boots, forcing them on over the crumbles of mud on my feet. We can both hear Pa, coming through the brush, forcing his way through it with snaps and tears and nearly inarticulate grumbling. Thomas is off like a shot, running almost on all fours as he crouches, and by the time my father reaches me, panting and huddled in the grass, my friend is nothing but a mole-trail disturbing distant strands.

Pa is a tall man--though I inherited his height, I’m only 13, and he towers over me, so broad and heavy that I am thin as grass and summer wind below him. I stand, looking up at him with a look that must look shameful, and he lowers the rifle to point at the earth, face still and steely with malice.

“I told you I didn’t want no boys ‘round,” he says, voice thick, like smoke from a bonfire. “Told you I didn’t want you foolin’ round like a little whore.”

“He didn’t do nothin’,” I say, arms wrapped around my chest. “Honest.”

“Who was it, then? And why didn’t he come see me, an’ ask if he could talk to you?” He takes my arm--not tightly, but with such strength that I couldn’t run if I tried. 

“He and I met while I was out with the chickens. He was on the road going up to town.”

“Sure he was.” Pa shoves my arm away and laughs, the sound like metal clattering to a dirt floor. “Sure, the devil ‘e was. I heard him talkin’ bout your legs, girl. Didn’t hear much, but I heard that. You think you’re the pick of the meat at the market, don’t you?”

“Pa--”

“Don’t talk, pretty girl. Don’t talk, and don’t you ever try and do this again. You’re gonna pray as long as you can tonight. I want your damn tongue to fall out before you stop praying,” and he begins to move, and now the pain comes as I stumble half-backward with him, held in a vise by my arm. 

“Pa, I’m sorry--”

“You ain’t sorry yet, Lu,” he says. He looks back at me, from under the shadow cast beneath his brows by the white sun overhead. “You ain’t sorry, yet.”

---

He makes me pray, that night, for hours and hours, for forgiveness, for something I never did. But the praying he makes me do that night is only meager practice for the praying I do during the winter.

Our chickens die when a coyote pack rolls through in the late days of fall, snarling and barking with a sound like mocking laughter. We salvage what corpses we can, and for a while, we eat well, but not well, because while we dine on fresh meat, the knowledge that something terrible to come hangs over us like the fog of their blood. The cattle start to go soon after, the first to a weak cover over a well (it falls in, it screams for hours), the second to a river, the third to disease, the rest tumbling like the articles like a rotting shelf soon after them. 

When winter comes, we have little, so little, and my father tears into his meager dollars to buy us what we can. I am grateful to him, even as the food dries up, even as he becomes silent, frighteningly silent, staring at me above the candle that lights our dinner-table with a face like a haunting.

I am not allowed to leave the house anymore.

I only cook--clean--mend--read the scraps of old newspaper used to patch the walls of the house as best I can. I make what food he finds for dinner, if he finds any, and I give more to his portion, and he says almost nothing to me except to remind me to stay in the home, to keep house and to keep out of the snowstorms and the paths of wild things. He fixes the roof and sharpens the knives--those are the only tasks he does around the house, besides force me onto my knees beside him to beg God for something for our stomachs.

And it is in cleaning that I find the box.

It is a small box, barely as long as my forearm and as shallow as the length of my hand, and it is under his bed, dislodged from a long stay deep in the shadows beneath his cot by a storm that shook the house.

I pull it slowly from beneath--it is unpainted, made of thin wood that leaves little splinters in the flesh of my thumb-joint. I remove its lid and look inside.

My mother is there, first, as I remember her--thin, short, with a look in her eyes like the hollow of a tree, unexplainably empty. The mark is clearly visible in the photograph, as she stands next to my father, mottled and dim. Neither of them are smiling. They are younger in this photograph--it is blurry, hard to make out.

Beneath that is a scrap of newspaper that I have a hard time understanding for a moment. 

Mrs. Mary J. Letts, 68; Wife and Mother

We regret to announce the death of Mrs. Letts, wife of Mr. Roger Letts and mother to Mabelle Letts, which took place last Thursday due to a tragic accident involving an injury sustained to her head while riding. She is survived by her husband and daughter. 

The paper cuts off there. I don’t recognize the name of Letts, and the paper is old; I continue reading as I find another scrap.

Mrs. Mabelle Dawson, 36; Wife and Mother

We regret to announce the death of Mrs. Dawson, who is survived by her husband, Mr. Arnold Dawson, and her young daughter, Lucy Dawson. Their family has our greatest sympathies. She was killed accidentally as she was cleaning a weapon owned by Mr. Arnold Dawson, who claims deepest regret that

I feel my mouth run dry and my pulse hammer against my skin like stone against a drum. That is my mother’s name--that is my name, too, faint against the paper. I don’t understand why these things are in the box, among other pictures and portraits of my mother, and, unmistakably, my mother’s mother, whose mark is just visible in one small portrait of her, clearly done by an amateur hand. I can imagine how it stretched across the back of her head, branching along her skull--I can see my own mother’s mark, clearly, in the center of her forehead.

I feel cold as the wooden floor under my feet as my eyes trace the border of the mark on her forehead for the first time. 

“Lu?” my father calls, from downstairs. “Lucy? Lu-cy?”

The starburst on her forehead is strangely jagged. Unsteady. The shape that a bullet hole would make, if someone were shot close in the head. An accident while cleaning a gun. A trauma to the back of the skull. I hear a footstep on the stairs, almost hesitant, its weight barely masked by the slowness with which my father places it down.

“Lucy?” he says. “I prayed to God for a miracle, and he told me what we ought to do. I need to see you, now.”

I can’t breathe. My throat is choked by a snare as I throw myself back, scrambling across the floor and away from the box. My skirt flies up--my legs are exposed, the lines on them obvious in their purpose.

Summers ago, I went to the village with Pa, and we went to a stall hung with pig carcasses. There, there was a picture of a sow, her legs and sides and ribs marked with uneven lines where the different cuts of meat came from. Here was the thigh--here was the shank--here was the cut you made along the spine and the stomach.

I hear a slow, low rumble of creaking wood as he stops outside the door.

“Lucy?” he says, his voice more paternal than I have ever heard it, and I begin to cry--begin to pray to anything, anyone that will listen, pray that something else kills me before he enters, and nothing does.

And the door opens--slowly, too slowly, as though I’ve had a nightmare and he’s coming to check on me like a good father should--and he sees me with the box, with the tears flowing down my face, with my chest heaving in great stops and starts.

He takes a step forward. In his hands, he holds a sharpened butcher’s knife.

#horror #short story #writing #creepy #abuse tw #FEEL FREE TO REBLOG

[dayseternal-blog]

If you ever finish answering all of yours awaiting asks...

45 questions for you 👀

https://myaekingheart.tumblr.com/post/650107314353897472/fic-writer-ask-game

Lolllll BADLUCKBREBIS, you are so funny.

Inspiration and Reading Asks:

1. How long ago did you start reading fanfiction? Writing fanfiction?

It looks like I started writing in 2017. I've been reflecting recently on how there are so many regularly active writers now compared to in 2017-2018. It was the tail-end of some of my fave writer's activity within fandom. Utsus was posting less and less. The Tumblr NaruHina fandom seemed to disappear, a whole community of writers left for other things (matchaball, nekomamoru, magmawrites, cherryjutsu, spyder-m, tenney-shoes, eliphya, among others). 2018 was a very quiet year, but! I avidly read katarinahime and bunnyhoodlum's works! In 2019, quirrrky restarted things with NaruHina Week!

2. How do you spend your time when it comes to fanfiction? Are you primarily a fic reader, writer, or a perfect 50/50 split of both?

Recently I’m primarily a reader!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Because there's so many writers now!!!!!!!!

3. Are there any fics that inspired you to write what you do?

Yeah, let’s list them.  “A Special Friend” by agitosgirl inspired “Nightdreams.  “Medicine” by @grimmjowkurosakidrake​ inspired “White Lilies.  “Torch Song” by @mmmbuttery inspired “About You.”  The language in “Unless the World Were to End” by @bunny-hoodlum​ inspired the language in “That was the plan.”  “In Between Drinks” by @peppercornpress inspired “In Between Drinks NH.”

4. Link your three favorite fics right now.

“Operation: Bring Home Naruto” by Dragonwannabe - Rated T, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Complete. Hinata's been assigned the mission of getting Naruto back home safely after his last dangerous assignment. But can she handle the undercover identity as his girlfriend that she’d been given without revealing her true feelings for him?

“The Mission” by Lunawraythe - Rated M, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Ongoing. It wasn't that Hinata never expected to work with Naruto, just never on a mission quite like this.

“The Loving Type” by @peppercornpresses - Rated M, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Ongoing. A few years have passed since the Fourth Shinobi War, in which...Rookie Nine steadily advances in rank. Naruto gets engaged. Hinata leaves Konoha. And Kakashi schemes for days.

5. What are your fanfic pet peeves? Do they have a huge effect on whether or not you decide to read something?

ahhh.  I do have quite a few pet peeves.  If the fic is Canon-Compliant or Canon-Divergent, I expect Naruto and Hinata to behave like Japanese people.  Say what you want, but the Naruto Universe is definitely Japanese in my book.  So that means no shoes in the house.  Nothing rattles me more than reading Hinata taking her sandals off before climbing into bed.  Like, what?  she was wearing her outdoor shoes indoors this whole time??

mmm... another pet peeve is when the writer describes Hinata in a kimono, but it sounds like an American Halloween costume, like the slutty version, instead of an actual kimono.

mmm... and the other big pet peeve I have is when it’s Hinata’s first time eating ramen because Naruto is showing her the wonders of ramen.  lol.  why.  how.  in what world would a Japanese person make it to their teenage years without ever eating ramen.

I have a bunch of other little pet peeves regarding Japanese culture in fanfics.  But in general, it doesn’t stop me from reading the fic if I'm already in the middle of it.  I’ll continue reading it and will probably recommend it to other people anyway. If I can tell based on the summary, then it's not for me, and I don't read it. If this makes anyone feel nervous about writing fanfiction, that's not my intention! I would also be happy to be a sensitivity reader if necessary.

6. How do you find new fic to read? Where do you primarily read fanfiction?

I primarily read fanfics on AO3 and ffnet.  I find new ones by constantly checking the Hyuuga Hinata/Uzumaki Naruto tag on AO3 or looking into a writer’s favorites list on ffnet.

7. Do you prefer to read short fics or long fics?

Short fics.

8. How often do you reblog/comment on fics that you like?

I reblog pretty often. I don't comment as often as I used to😕 I used to comment on every fic I liked.

9. Tag 3 fic writers you think are underrated/unknown in the fandom/fanfiction community.

Uhh?? Idk. I think recently the writing group here is pretty tight, everyone seems to know everyone.

10. What’s your favorite fandom, pairing, or character to read fic for?

Naruto fandom and NaruHina.

Fanfiction Writing Asks:

11. How do you come up with your fic titles?

I usually take it from words used in the story or from the prompt.

12. Tell the author your favorite fic title of theirs (not the fic, strictly title). Author: what’s your favorite title you’ve come up with and why?

I think...maybe "Tell Me of Forevers" or "Nightdreams." I like those because they aren't taken word-for-word directly from the story, but touch on a theme in the story.

13. Do you outline your fics? How much of a headache would someone get if they just looked at an outline of yours without reading the fic?

Yes, I outline. They wouldn't get a headache, I think. It's usually just a summary.

14. Do you have a personal word minimum that you hold yourself too? Why or why not?

Nope. I didn't know people do that.

15. Tell the author your favorite fic of theirs. What’s your (the author’s) favorite fic you’ve written?

My favorite fic continues to be "It's No Secret."

16. Do you research for your fics? If so, how deep of a rabbit hole have you gone down by accident when researching?

Yes, I do. I've done historical and folktale research for "Little Samurai." I did area/location research for "Last Chance." I did historical research for "About You." I did fairy tale research for "Catskin." I did a ton of astronomy research for "The Cowherd and the Weaver Girl." And I did lighting research for "Inspo." I go pretty deep.

17. How obsessively do you sit and stare at your fic after you’ve just posted and wait for feedback?

I don't. I usually have something else I need to do or I go to bed.

18. Do you have a WIP that you keep telling yourself you’ll eventually get back to, but deep down you know that’s probably a lie?

I actually think I can finish all of mine if I just try.

19. Do you edit your fics after you write them, or do you prefer to just hit post and run (because it’s someone else’s problem now)?

I always edit before posting to AO3. Anything I post directly on Tumblr might not be edited.

20. What’s your favorite part about the fanfiction writing process?

Posting!

21. What’s your least favorite part about the fanfiction writing process?

Starting a new chapter.

22. Do you take fic requests? If so, for what characters and why?

On occasion. If someone sends me a request, I'll think about writing it. Sometimes I do write and post it, sometimes I leave them in my drafts for a better day.

23. What’s your absolute favorite trope to write?

From what I already have posted, probably friends-to-lovers, secret relationship/forbidden love, or high school au. I don't think I have an intentional favorite.

24. What’s a trope that you’d like to never hear about as long as you live, let alone write?

Public humiliation / public degradation.

25. Do you listen to music as you write? If possible, link your writing playlist.

No, not usually.

26. What’s your biggest distraction when writing?

Tumblr feed, all the pictures to scroll through mindlessly.

27. Do you like to give your readers some warning of what might be coming or just slap them in the face with content at random?

lol, whatever is fine.

28. How do you deal with writing pressure (ie: pressure to update, negative comments, deadlines, etc)?

Well, pressure to update is not a big deal to me. I do this for fun, so I don't think I unnecessarily pressure myself too much. With negative comments, I don't get too many of those, and I think I do my best to avoid situations where I might get negative feedback.

29. Have you ever written for an exchange or event of some kind? Which one(s)? Did you enjoy it?

Yeah, I like the events. My favorite was NH2020, the year-long one last year. I also enjoyed the Secret Santa last year since @badluckbrebis was my giftee.

30. Post a snippet from your current WIP without context - no more than 300 words.

haha😈

Ecstasy slides through his veins, blooming over his mind, cocooning him in pleasant sensations, cum shooting out in eager twitches against hot, milking flesh.

31. Of the characters you write for, which is your favorite? Has that choice been swayed at all by your followers/readers’ reactions to certain ones?

Naruto Uzumaki, always.

32. Copy and paste your top three favorite lines/jokes/sentences you’ve ever written. What fics do they come from?

Top 3 faves in order:

That was the plan: "She shifts in his arms, and cloth and cleavage come pillowing up to his face, and he’s certain that she’s scooped from the same puffy stuff his adolescent daydreams were made of."

Tell Me of Forevers: "What he wouldn’t do to inspire every blush, every smile of hers for an eternity when such moments already only speak “forever” to him."

White Lilies: "Whether at his feet, in his eyes, ears, mind, if not reaching his heart, she never landed anywhere. (It’s okay.)"

I consider "White Lilies" to have my technically best writing, so it was kind of hard to choose just one line from that fic! But I decided that one's my favorite line from the whole story.

33. What do you like writing better: one shots or multi-chapter stuff?

One-shots.

34. How much of yourself and your life experiences do you put into your writing? What do you think your readers’ image of you is?

A lot of my life experiences are in my writing. Hmm, I think readers probably think I'm...hmm...either empathetic or really perverted?

35. How much has writing fic changed your life?

I spend a lot less time on real-life social media than before.

36. Are there any fics or fandoms you’re embarrassed to have written or been part of?

I'm kind of embarrassed of "Honeymoon at the Hot Springs" lol. It's fine.

37. Give an update on your current WIP - if you don’t have one, give a sneak peek to a title or idea that you have and would like to write.

My current WIP is that A/B/O fic I started for February Smut Month Prompts: Sweet as Candy or Love Bites. I'm going to title it "Sweet As," and it'll be about how Naruto and Hinata become Alpha/Omega mates. It's really kinky, really smutty, and totally what I would want to read.

38. What does your writing process look like? How chaotic is it on a scale of 1 (very tame) to 10 (you can’t handle this kind of chaos)?

uhh???? a 1?? I've never once thought of my writing process as chaotic. Ahh, then I think of bunnyhoodlum's multiple drafts for the same chapter, and I realize that there exist types of writing processes that I would not be able to handle...

39. What’s something about your writing that you pride yourself on?

My smut.

40. How did you come up with the idea for [x fic]?

41. What’s your most popular fic (with the most notes on tumblr, most hits/kudos on ao3)?

Idk about Tumblr,,, maybe White Lilies got the most attention here. My most popular fic is Nightdreams on AO3.

42. Asker: pick three of the author’s works. Author: rank them 1 (the best) - 3 (the worst) based on whatever criteria you want - this could be something totally random that isn’t quality related (like simply ranking fics based on how many trains appear in them) - have fun!

43. Talk about a positive experience with fanfiction or the fanfiction community that you will always remember.

I will always remember how people congratulated me for finishing White Lilies😭 Also, when peppercornpresses made that FIRST art of my story, I just, I just stared at it all day.

44. Rant about something writing related.

hmmm, I don't feel like ranting about anything. I just recently ranted about my pet peeves above.

45. Fic specific questions - if you have any weird questions about specific works, here’s your shot to ask them!

I did them all! Nice questions.

#anon #*anon* #fic writer ask game #i will send these questions right back at you

[axther]

in the golden afternoon

tamaki x reader: in the golden afternoon

in which the reader falls into a place called Wonderland, and meets the knave of hearts who is far too soft spoken to be a knight. for @mortedeveles​ tw: mentions of beheading 

Wonderland was a strange place, YN realised.

Truthfully, she wasn’t entirely sure how she got there; she was on a walk when she tripped over a hole, and there she was, plummeting down and down and down through the most unusual rabbit tunnel. It was like a drug trip and made YN dizzier than she would’ve liked. But when she finally landed, she realised that this world was much stranger than her own. It was upside down and inside out, where nowhere was everywhere and everywhere was anywhere. Paths erased themselves and the sky was a strange shade of purple mixed with blue. Huge pine trees had pale pink roses on them, and the grass was maroon. Flowers spoke with sharp tones and lilting song, rocking-horse flies flitted around, and YN would shrink and grow at the world’s whims. There were no rules, and YN learned to obey. One of the non-rules was told to YN by a young man with purple hair and wide, toothy grin. He called himself the Cheshire Cat, as he reclined lazily along a tree branch and swung his tail around. All ways here, you see, are the King’s ways, he purred. Oh, but don’t worry. He’d be just mad about you. YN wasn’t sure what the Cat meant by that, but his lavender eyes narrowed, and she didn’t feel any comfort. He took it upon himself, strangely enough, to follow YN through her journey into Wonderland. He gave snippets of twisted wisdom and often got her into trouble, but she couldn’t find herself to become angry at him. He was a companion that she found herself grateful for in the long dark ways of Wonderland. She ended up wandering into the gardens of the Red King, seeing several young men furiously painting several white roses. The Cat floated around above her, watching the men work. “My, my, they are truly working themselves hard.” The Cat grinned, wrapping his tail around YN’s shoulders. “It’s almost like their lives depend on it~!” “Do you suppose that’s why?” YN tilted her head, looking at the Cat and then back to the men. “They’re very rushed.” YN bent down to pick up a stray paint can and brush, and prodded the brush around in the bucket. The red paint was more akin to blood, wet and dripping onto the grass. Strangely, the grass looked to once be green, if the spots unpainted meant anything, but the young men had been so sloppy with their job that it had gotten everywhere. The roses were very blatantly painted, hardly drying before they moved onto another flower. The leaves were dripping and the branches were stained, and YN slowly walked up to the three they were working on. “Hullo,” She moved around so she could see the three men, each of whom jumped before working twice as fast. One had bright green hair that flopped around his face, the paint smattering over his freckles and making him look like a Christmas decoration. The one next to him looked angry, almost stabbing the roses in his fury. The last looked, in a word, dumb, painting his fingers more than the roses and getting it all over his blonde hair. He had a strange mark that was like a lightning bolt across the side of his hair, and it seemed so out of place with the rest of him that YN cast him a strange look. “Huh?!” The second worker turned, and with a growl, swung his paintbrush at YN without hitting her, and went back to work. “Get outta here! Fuckin idiot!!” “What?” YN reeled back, pursing her lips with an angry stare. “How rude!” “You fuckin heard me!” The man barked, growling like a dog. “We’re busy!” “W-wait!” The green-haired one stopped the blonde in his tracks with a yelp. “Kaachan! Be nice! Maybe she can help us!” “Oh?” The Cheshire Cat grinned. “Being recruited, are we?” “Shush, you mangy thing.” YN huffed, tightening her hold on the paint can and addressing the three. “Why are you painting the roses red?” “Well, y-you see, the Red King wanted red roses.” The green-haired one stuttered, biting his lip and getting back to work. “And fucking Socket Licker planted white roses!” Kaachan hissed, finishing up the tree. The last blonde jumped, peering at YN and the others. “Huh? Is something up?” “Denki, not now.” “Oh. OK!” Denki started walking over to the tree that Kaachan was working on, working on a rose that was already painted. The green-haired man hung back, looking to YN. “Uh...I’m Midoriya, and that’s Bakugou and Denki. Would you be willing to help us? It would really be awesome!” “Very well, then.” YN furrowed her brow and walked up to the tree, painting gently so it actually looked convincingly like a red rose. Bakugou and Midoriya were both doing relatively good jobs, but Denki’s painting was sloppy enough that white portions were left open. YN tried to cover several of them up, but before she could get far, trumpets starting sounded from across the hedge maze. The three jumped, scampering around and trying to paint any roses they saw with a single swipe of red. It didn’t do much, but then the White Rabbit walked mutely in with a small frown and sighed, raising a piece of parchment and beginning to read from it. “His imperial highness, his grace, his excellency, her royal majesty, the King of Hearts, and the Knave of Hearts.” Midoriya, Bakugou, and Denki all got down onto their knees (though Bakugou seemed far more reluctant). YN glanced at them, and then got onto her knees as well and shoved her nose into the grass. The White Rabbit shuffled to the side and rolled his eyes (YN realised, peaking up, that they were two different colours) as another man stepped into view. He had a completely smug grin on his face and blonde hair that was flat and oddly natural. His blue eyes scanned over the flowers, before slowly sauntering over to the roses. Paint still dripped down from them, and YN paled at the thought of what the Red King was going to do. If these three were so freaked out, then what was his usual reaction? “Ah, yes...the red royal roses.” He whispered, caressing the roses gently in his hands. He brought it up to his nose, took a deep breath, and pulled away again. Abruptly, he ripped it off of the tree and threw it onto the ground, angrily stomping on it with his foot. “Then why the hell are they painted?!” He howled, turning to the trio. “Who the hell painted my roses red?!” “It was Deku!” Bakugou’s head snapped up, barking with a vigor. “It’s was all him!” “Midoriya, you say?” “N-no, Your Majesty! It w-was...Denki! Sorry, Denki.” “Huh?” Denki looked up, quirking his head. “But I thought it was Bakugou who said to paint them?” “Enough!” The Red King bit, stomping his foot again. “Off with their heads!” YN paled, looking up with wide eyes. Several knights stepped forward and started dragging the three off, with only Bakugou spitting and kicking the whole way down. YN was left alone in front of this menace, and she felt her blood cool. “And what’s this?” The Red King looked down at YN with a sneer before snapping his fingers. “Knave!” “Y-y-yes, King Monoma.” From behind several knights, a young man scampered out. Instantly, he felt different from the others; he was meek, holding himself close and almost shuffling out of sight. He skittered up to YN and knelt, gently tilting her chin up to look her in the eyes. His own were a stunning shade of indigo, dark and almost black. Tufts of similar hair poked out from under his helmet, framing his face and making him look...well, beautiful. He seemed to be glowing under the eternal afternoon sun, and he blinked softly. “Oh.” He murmured, eyes wide and pleading. “Y-you’re…” “Well?” The Red King huffed, crossing his arms. “Get on with it!” “Sh-she’s a girl, sir! Your Majesty, sir!” The Knave jumped up like he was burned, hands snapping to his side and looking terrified. “A human girl!” “Oh?” The Red King leaned down to YN, raising his eyebrow and smirking. “Well hello, there.” “Hello, uh...your majesty.” “She’s a quick learner!” He grinned, though it felt horribly malicious. “Get up, my dear.” YN got to her feet as quickly and gracefully as possible, making it her one goal to survive. The Cheshire Cat cackled in an echo, and YN felt tempted to spit some insult at him, but knew that it would only land her in trouble. “Follow me, my dear.” The Red King waved his sceptre lackadaisically, beginning to move through the gardens. YN started trotting after him, noting that he seemed like a complete control freak-and that even stepping ahead of him would be dangerous. The Knave caught up with both of them, glancing at YN out of the corner of his eye every couple of seconds. YN glanced back, trying to make sure that her head was on a swivel, before looking ahead when the Red King started talking about something mundane. Meanwhile, Tamaki was having a stroke. He hated his job. He hated being looked at. He hated being told what to do, hated that he was a glorified butler, hated that his best friends were scattered across Wonderland. But this was the first time in...too long that he’d seen another actual human being that wasn’t completely cruel. This young woman seemed sensible, though, and seemed to restrain herself from something stupid. She held herself with a certain grace that Tamaki hadn’t seen in a long, long time. “Knave!” Monoma barked, spinning around. “Stop zoning out, before you lose your head!” “S-s-sorry,” Tamaki whispered, bowing his head and fiddling with his fingers. Monoma lowered his eyes in disdain, but let it go in favour of pointing to the castle. “Give our sweet guest a room, Knave.” Monoma lowered his eyes, and Tamaki realised with a chill that Monoma had crueller intentions. No one was ever allowed into the guest rooms of the castle unless they were going to be executed, or worse-assassinated. Why Monoma wanted to kill this sweet, King-abiding young woman, Tamaki had no clue, but he shook and nodded his head sheepishly. “A-as you wish…” “As I wish…?” “Y-your majesty.” “Good dog,” Monoma smirked again, walking off as Tamaki bit the inside of his cheek. He hated this, hated the Red King, hated Wonderland. And this poor girl was going to be killed because, what, Monoma just didn’t like her? It was a cruel world that Tamaki lived in, and a crueller fate for the young woman. “You’re Tamaki.” Tamaki jumped out of his skin at the woman’s soft tone. Her tense demeanour had melted away, leaving her gently smiling at him. “How…?” “You look like someone I know.” She looked ahead, rocking her hands a bit. “And you remind me of him a lot. Actually, everyone here is very familiar. The Red King, the White Rabbit, the Cheshire Cat...you.” “R-really?” Tamaki felt his heartstrings being pulled almost dramatically, and a flush overtook his face. “Yeah!” The young woman chirped. “Oh...I suppose here, you don’t know my name. I’m YN.” “YN…” Tamaki tested it on his tongue, and he could almost feel it rolling around in his mouth and on his tongue like a delicate sweet. It made warmth surge through him, and something in his gut twitched. It made him feel warm, flooding through him like good memories. He stopped in his tracks, feeling like he was on fire before he gasped. “Huh?” YN stopped and turned around, tilting her head. “Are you okay?” “Y-you…” Every cell in Tamaki’s body screamed out for him not to hurt her. No, she was something far more than just a woman. She was someone that brought him comfort even then, in the Red King’s gardens, where the rest of Wonderland couldn’t even touch them. It was them against the world. “Wait.” Tamaki turned around, making sure that there were no new cards slinking around nearby. YN raised her eyebrow and gave him a curious look, tilting her head. “Is something wrong?” “Come with me.” Tamaki felt a strange surge of confidence through him, holding his hand for YN to take. “If you stay here, you’ll be k-killed.” “What?” YN’s eyes went wide, and she took his hand. He began to run through the maze, knowing every twist and turn like the back of his hand. The evergreen hedges folded into pale bushes, and then into red grass that he missed so dearly. In the distance, he heard Monoma yelling for him, but for once, he didn’t listen. He kept on running, booking it for the edge of the woods until the sky was consumed by trees and the mome raths scattered at the sound of their pounding feet. YN was panting behind him, doing her best to keep up, but he finally skittered to a halt before a great wall. It was the edge of Wonderland, at the very border of the Red King’s land. He turned to YN. “I can get you past here. From there, you can get home safely.” “What’s going on?” YN’s eyes were wide, confused and alert. “We all know you, YN.” Tamaki sighed, feeling an incredible sense of melancholy and nostalgia come over him. “I don’t know how...but we do. And you can’t stay here.” “I…” YN tensed, and Tamaki knew why. She had no reason to trust him. He was just a complete stranger that said he knew her, even though he technically didn’t. There was no reason that she should do anything with him, even if-YN smiled, and Tamaki froze. His heart roared in his ears, and the flush on his cheeks came back tenfold. The world was spinning around her like she was the sun, and Tamaki let out a nervous laugh. Nervous? What was more nervous than nervous? That’s what he was. He was stone in front of this goddess, and he could only shuffle his feet. “Y-you should go before Monoma realises that we’re...yanno…” “Right.” YN nodded, looking over the wall before walking over to it. She pressed her hand to it, and there was a breezy laugh over her shoulder. “Now, now, YN.” The Cheshire Cat started reclining on her shoulder, moving his hands to wrap around her shoulders. “Isn’t it lovely here? I’m sure that the Red King just wanted you to stay the night~” “Shut up, dumb cat.” YN bit, and pressed her hand into the wall. A door appeared out of nowhere, swinging open, and Tamaki sighed. YN turned back to him, giving him a shy smile. “Stay safe, ok?” “I-I will!” Tamaki jumped, his hands snapping to his side. YN lingered through the doorway, like she wasn’t quite ready to leave. Tamaki glanced around, unsure what she was waiting for. “I...I don’t think I’d be able to tell you this in real life.” YN looked down, eyes flickering across the dirt. “But I like you. A lot.” Tamaki jumped. “Wh-what?!” “I guess, since this isn’t real…” YN paused. “Right?” “Oh.” Tamaki only felt confused and could barely make two words. “What?” “This is…oh, nevermind.” YN took a deep breath, relaxing her shoulders as the Cheshire Cat slinked off. “Goodbye, Tamaki.” She walked through, and Tamaki saw a light. 

Tamaki woke up on his desk and had a heart attack. 

He jumped up, hoping he didn’t attract too much attention from the rest of his class. Oddly enough, though, only Mirio, Neijre, and YN were in the room. They were talking quietly amongst themselves, and Tamaki felt instant mortification. “There he is!” Mirio smiled brightly at him, waving. “Have a good nap?” “Y-you let me sleep!” Tamaki paled, feeling ready to drip out of his seat and onto the floor. YN turned and smiled softly. “You deserve it.” “Yeah! And it sounded like you were having a good dream!” Nejire giggled. “You were smiling and bright red!” “I-I was?! Oh, god!” Tamaki’s hands rushed to his face, slapping his cheeks in hopes of willing the flush down. He felt sick to his stomach; did he say anything in his sleep? Did YN know? Was it weird? “C’mon, Tama.” YN rose and placed a gentle hand on Tamaki’s back. “We should head to our dorms before it gets too late.” Tamaki’s head snapped up as Mirio and Neijre began walking out the door. YN waited next to him, soft eyes on him. He felt like the world was slowed to a stop. YN was the most beautiful person he had ever seen, and the gentle way that she looked at him made his heart race. He loved her for the longest time, and no matter what, she always managed to make him into goo.

  He supposed his crush was like a rabbit hole, and he was still falling. 

#tamaki x reader #wonderland au #fuckin christ this took me forever #bnha x reader #tamaki amajiki x reader

[thelionbyname]

Together We Are One (prequel part 5)

(This has kind of evolved from a fanfiction into its own story, but eh, enjoy!)

“Hey Impulse! What’s going on? Little Tango called and said you wanted me to come.” A friendly voice drifted through the house, preceding its owner: another old man, but one who still had streaks of blond hair visible between the grey strands. This man walked in slightly bent over, not because of age, but because a very small girl was clinging onto his index finger. Together, they walked over to the center of the room, where a gathering of sorts seemed to be taking place. Four toddlers were sitting on the ground, facing the old man with the dirty shirt: Impulse.

Impulse looked up at the newcomers and replied, “Zed! Yeah, well... I think it’s time to tell them, and I thought it would be easier for both of us if we did it together.”

Whatever Zed had been expecting, this wasn’t it. It seemed Impulse had uncovered some memories he had tried to suppress. His eyes were suddenly filled with pain, pain that had not been there the first time, that now crashed back like a boomerang; only temporarily disposed of. He dove head first into the rabbit hole of memories that, despite having been in a hidden corner of his mind for thirty years, were clear as day, made fresh through the pain that stained them.

“Gwampa, what’s wong?” The innocent voice of the small child pulled him out of his whirlwind of thoughts, and Zed was suddenly aware of the girl gently tugging his finger.

“I’m okay, Tekkie. Go sit down.” And to Impulse, he said, “Yeah… I guess it is.”

The little girl, Tekkie, her grandpa’s troubles already forgotten, ran over to sit next to Tango and held his hand. Her soft fingers, which had not yet lost their baby fat, easily wove through his, and were clearly very comfortable doing so. He grinned at her, and she flashed a dimpled smile back. Then they turned their heads to face their grandpas.

Zed had taken a seat in the chair normally occupied by Impulse’s wife. He automatically reached for his friend’s hand in comfort, but he didn’t know if he was comforting Impulse or himself.

And in this position, hand in hand, they started.

Though there was still pain, it was a relief to talk about it, together. It was mostly Impulse talking, because he had spent his entire life dwelling on this, analysing every mistake, remembering every thought. Every time he paused for breath, however, Zedaph continued, contributing his own perspective.

The five toddlers listened intently to the most epic tale they had ever heard. They were very good listeners, gasping at the right time, whimpering when a character died, never interrupting. Only the oldest, Tango, was aware that this was all real, not just some story.

When their grandpas got to the part where little Tango’s namesake disappeared, they could not continue. Zedaph let out a sob.

Little Tango didn’t make them continue; for a five-year-old, he was very emotion-sensitive and seemed to know exactly when it was too much. Instead, he asked them, “Did they ever come back?” though he already knew the answer.

Impulse fought to hold back tears, and choked out, “No… they never came back.”

At the same time, in another world...

“Screwdriver.”

“This one? Here you go.”

“Wrench.”

“You could ask politely.”

With the sound of metal rolling over concrete, a man emerged from beneath a complicated-looking machine. He lay on a skateboard he was using as a car creeper, and his face was smeared with oil and what looked like rust. The man blew his moustache away from his mouth with a sigh of exasperation. “For efficiency reasons I find it easier to name what I need, rather than go ‘Tango, could you hand me that drill over there?’ every time.”

“At least say please?” Tango replied.

Mumbo rolled his eyes and disappeared under the machine again. For a moment there was no sound except the steady tap, tap, tap, of a hammer, but then Mumbo spoke again. “Bolt, please.”

Grinning, Tango handed one to him and replied “That’s more like it.” He heard a sigh come out from under the machine, but he could tell Mumbo was smiling. Tango turned when he heard footsteps approaching them. Suddenly, he stood face to face with Xisuma. “Gah! You startled me, X!”

X chuckled and looked down to where Mumbo’s hair was visible. “Nearly done, Mumbo? I have something to tell you guys”

“Almost.” Mumbo sounded like he had his tongue between his teeth in concentration. There was the low buzzing of a drill, and then Mumbo rolled out from beneath the machine again. “There! It’s finished! Phew… I’ve been working on that for weeks!”

“Amazing! So now all Tango has to do is program it.”

“Yes. That’ll be done within a few minutes. But you said you had to tell us something, X?” Tango reminded him.

“Yeah. Could you follow me to the meeting room? Falsie, Grian, and Keralis are waiting for us.”

The three of them walked into the next room, where indeed there were three other people sitting around a table, playing cards. False, Grian and Keralis looked up as they entered. They looked expectantly at Mumbo, who answered the question in their minds. “It’s done,” he said, with a hint of pride in his voice. They cheered, and Grian gave Mumbo a high-five. Sort of, because since he was sitting and Mumbo was super tall, Mumbo had to give a low five to Grian’s high five.

Xisuma walks carefully past a wall covered in weapons and over to a mobile whiteboard. He turned to face the rest, who had all sat down and were patiently waiting.

“I have some rather depressing news. Every day, I walk out of my apartment and meet my neighbor, who leaves at the same time. When I first moved in three years ago and met her for the first time, she was cradling a baby of perhaps four months old. Last week, when I saw her, she was holding that same baby. Then I realised, over the course of three years, that baby had not aged at all. I see them every single morning, yet I had not registered this until last week.

“So naturally, I decided to get to the bottom of it. I found pictures of us from when we had just arrived in this dimension, and saw that none of us have changed at all either. Of course, that doesn’t say much, because adults simply don’t change much over a mere three years, which is probably why we didn’t notice before.” He paused for breath, and Grian spoke.

“So, we don’t age. Is that really such a bad thing?” He grinned.

Xisuma didn’t smile. He looked at Grian sadly, and Grian’s smile vanished. “I wasn’t done. While I was trying to find out exactly what was going on, I found some other information. I asked Tango to hack into NASA for me-”

“So that’s what that was for!” Tango interrupted. Then, catching Xisuma’s eye, “Sorry.”

“NASA managed to do quite a bit of research on the time machine before we stole it. It is a miracle that Mumbo was able to fix it, when some of the best scientists in this world couldn’t. But the point is, I found some things. We previously thought that the black hole sent us to another dimension. We were wrong. We are on the same earth, but in a different timeline.”

This revelation was followed by shocked and comprehending gasps from those listening. 

Xisuma nodded absent mindedly, and continued. “Black holes warp time. This explains why we don’t age. Time flows differently here. We didn’t go through the black hole, we are inside it. It doesn’t just freeze all organic matter into one state, it slows time as we experience it. For us it feels like we have been here for three years, but back home in the other timeline, it has been ten times as long. So for the other hermits, we have been gone for three decades. They probably think we’re all dead.”

This time there were pained gasps. Remorse transformed each of their features as they realised how their friends must feel.

“But it’s not all bad. Our original plan to get back was to use the time machine to travel across dimensions, but now that we know that doesn’t apply, I made some adjustments. We need to travel through time. We know the risks of messing with the past, but it is the only way to get back. You see,” He paused and started drawing on the whiteboard. He drew a straight line from left to right, and then split the line at the end so it resulted in a rotated Y of sorts. “This is what the timeline would look like, were it possible to visualise it. This,” he gestured to the bottom of the Y, “ is when we were all still back home. And here,” he pointed at the intersection, where all the lines came together, “is where we went into the black hole. We went to one timeline, while the other Hermits continued on the other. So the only way to go back to them is to take the time machine back to before we went into the black hole, because any time after that, we would still be in this timeline.” Xisuma looked around to see if they understood. It looked like some were still processing all the information, but there was only as much confusion as what was to be expected.

False spoke up. “That means that when we go back and change the past, we erase all the suffering we caused them, and their entire timeline,” she stood up and walked to the board, “will vanish.” she wiped away one of the split-off lines.

“Exactly,” Xisuma nodded. “We need to stay hidden until our past selves have gone into the black hole, because otherwise we could seriously mess up the past. This means that we have to stay far away, because past Tango or past Cleo could sense our presence.”

At this, Tango’s eyes widened. “That’s right! I used to have telepathy! I had entirely forgotten about that…” His eyes glazed over for a second, clearly seeing things the rest could not. Xisuma’s smooth British voice brought him back to the present.

“Right, yeah. I found information about that during my deep dive into NASA’s archive, too. NASA has two theories; the first being that the black hole runs on a different frequency, one that is not compatible with magic. The magic is still in the air somewhere, but humans can’t access it. The second theory is that magic is entirely dead here, because the vortex is too powerful, and magic simply can’t survive.”

They all sat and stared blankly, remembering a better time, when they were above the regular laws of humanity. They never knew why their powers had ceased to exist when they regained consciousness after being thrown around the void, until now. At least, a theory as to why. As they thought back to when they were more than human, the homesickness was suddenly overwhelming. From one moment to the next, they were all desperate to go home. It had always remained their home, all three years they had spent elsewhere. It had never felt truly theirs here.

Tango cleared his throat, which suddenly had a lump in it, and said, “I say we leave as soon as possible. I’m going to go program the time machine so it’s ready to go.”

Everyone nodded in agreement, some wiping the silent tears from their cheeks. Tango speed walked into the room with the time machine; he couldn’t get there fast enough.

Once he disappeared past the door frame, Keralis spoke for the first time that evening. “I agree with Tango. Let’s go home. Today. Anyone have things in their apartments they want to bring to the past?” He looked around, studying each face individually. He realised he hadn’t really seen them since coming here, to this new world. He knew he would only see the ghost of his past life. 

“Nah, but I do want to keep these cool suits,” Mumbo said, gesturing to the six spy outfits on display in glass cases along the wall behind him.

“I second that. I just want to go home,” Grian concurs.

Within a few minutes, as Tango had promised, the time machine was ready for departure. Somehow they all managed to squeeze into the machine designed to transport one person.

With effort, Xisuma got enough oxygen to say, “Tango, you did program this properly, right? You were in quite a rush.”

“Yes, X. Have some faith in my abilities, please.” Tango rolled his eyes. “Ready? Here we go!” he pulled a large lever- with difficulty- and they vanished in a bright flash.

                                            *          *          *

#hermitcraft #hermitcraft fanfiction #Tangotek #tango tek #Xisuma #Xisumavoid #Falsesymmetry #False symmetry #MumboJumbo #Mumbo jumbo #Grian #Zombiecleo #Keralis #Keralis1 #Impulsesv #Zedaph #Zedaph plays #Zedaphplays

[popculturebuffet]

House of Mouse April Fools Special: Donald’s Pumbaa Prank (Patreon Review for WeirdKev27)

Hello all you happy people and welcome to my April Fool’s Special! And it’s also my patreon review for the month as Kev just so happened to randomly hit this one and once I realized it was an april fools episode I moved it up since things have been kinda hectic in the old brainpan lately, and as such my output slowed down a bit so I really wasn’t in great shape to do 4 episodes in one day. So instead see what hyjinks, fart jokes and murders of beloved disney characters insue under the cut as the hosue of mouse gets a bit foolish

The Wraparound:

It’s April Fools day at the House of Mouse and Donald pulls a prank on MIckey by cutting his break lines.. wait no that was last year. No this year he just puts some wax on the stage and MIckey trips, Donald laughs. Now if this were the real world this would be really dangerous and probably destroy their friendship and MIckey’s spine. But this is a cartoon that runs on cartoon physics. He was in no real danger. So Mickey’s retaliation on the other hand.. is just showing embarassing footage of Donald. It makes him come off as unecessarily cruel as instead of an actual prank or joke it’s just “Hey look at this embarassing footage of my friend I dug up”

This plot DOES get a lot bettter though after the setup: Pete talks Donald into kidnapping Pumba, planning to use Pumbas farts to clear out the club...

Yeah i’m not big on fart jokes. I’m not against them, when used right they can be comedy gold.. this song from bobs burgers is one such example

It’s just a lot of times farts and other bodily functions are used as the joke alone. That’s it. There’s no actual laughs or content too said laughs, i’ts jsut this is gross.  Thankfully this episode does not go really deep down the grossdout rabit hole, as we don’t see the fart on screen.. but it still dosen’t make “Pumbas’ ass gas is going to destroy the house of mouse” funny. 

There are some funny gags though: Donald’s method of distracting Timon so Pete can kidnap Pumbaa is to just stand there not saying anything and weirding Timon out , their replacement is just a bowling ball, two horns and a sack of something, and when Timon goes looking for Pumbaa, finds Zazu under a plate the hyena’s have.. and then just leaves him there. Seriously Timon just.. let’s Zazu die and I am here for it. 

Donald meanwhile thinks Mickey is planning another prank after mickey apologizes and has a special thing planned but it’s really jsut a lifetime achivment award, so Donald tries to stop it, then reveals the truth when Pumba shows up.. and gets his award taken away. Even though he had every reason to think Mickey was going to pull something because honest as he is i’ts april fools day. Mickey just... obnoxious in this one and it speaks to a larger problem with the series I remember from when I was a kid that i’ve noticed once or twice now: The show tends to have Squidward Syndrome, i.e. it treats Donald who can be obnoxious as wrong.. even when he’s done nothing wrong THIS EPISODE, like spongebob did to squidward at times, or if he has done something wrong his punishment is dispororitante. Donald did a minor prank.. and MIckey publicly humiliated him and Donald TREID to stop his prank. And goes above and behond to stop it, taking the fart attack at ground zero. Speaking of which the fart attack scene from parks and rec, also a good fart joke. 

And MIckey.. learns nothing by playing the test footage again even though Donald was just ground zero at an attomic level ass.

Final Thoughts for the Wraparound: It’s not great. I”m noticing that trend with Season 1 in general, where they really just didn’t have a ton of idea of what to do with the wraparounds. The episodes still vary in quality, but outside of the pilot most of the season 1 episodes are pretty disapointing as an adult, very simplistic plots that often don’t use the club’s nature to their full advantage or the characters to the same. It would get better though, but it’s something to notice. onto the shorts. 

The Friend for Life: This is a pretty simple one. Sam and Max, are after the mad Thesipian, whose exactly what he sounds like. We even get a really neat visual gag as sam just.. uses his little buddy as a sword while the Thespian uses a candelabra. But while our Freelance Police catch the weirdo, and Max takes a ride in the saftey tramp they set up for the guy, he escapes when the two are distracted by Norm, THE FRIEND FOR LIFEEEEEEEE. An obessive fanboy played by Patrick Mackenna of the Red Green Show, esentially playing an older and stalkery version of Harold.. now I think about it this might be his dad. I mean we don’t know where he went or what hapepend to the guy. Maybe he just went to the states to obesss over a rabbit and Dog. I don’t know. 

Lorne wants to help our heroes while Max understandably wants to run him over and sam just runs past him the minute they can. But despite finding the thespians layer  Max: (Singsong) We’re here to arressttt youuu Sam: (Also singsong): Rememberrrrr.. crimesss against humanitty? But it turns out Lorne, THE FRIEEEND FOR LIFFFEEEE, kidnapped him and puts on a show for htem of fighting thier old eneimies and a roller coaster death trap. Our heroes escape and begrudignly thank lorne even if they find his stalker shrine a bit much. 

Final Thoughts for The Friend For LIfe: A really solid episode and the fact i’ve binged several sam and max episodes since then really speaks to how good this one was. Seriously really funny stuff and I didn’t even cover half the great jokes in this one. Check it out, it’s on youtube. 

Mickey’s April Fools: An odd one but a fun one. MIckey is taking his asshole pills and goes overboard with his pranks, faking proposing to Minnie and faking his death after Mortimer pranks him. But it works... I mean is it grossly out of character? Oh god yes. Would it have made more sense by swapping out Mickey, Minnie and Mortimer with Donald, Daisy and either the boys or pete? Entirely. Is this short still hilarous. Yup. While i’ts not the best they’ve done on the show, it’s still really entertaining. The two end up getting him back, MOrtimer by faking a will reading only to have it go really poorly for Mickey as his death was reported, donald refuses to help due to Mickey’s last words to mortimer being “I’ve never undestood him” and Goofy being.. goofy. And MIckey is left hanging from a pole by minnie because fuck him. An out of character one.. but the sheer oddity of mickey being this dickish in the house of mouse shorts makes it work.  Be A Man: As a debut album for Randy Savage this Album is audotirally fucktacular, and with some polish randy could’ve had a long and successful rap career. As it stands, it is a sad one off not ein his career. 

Critters: On an asteroid prison, a group of dangerous aliens known as Krites are set to be transported to another station. The Krites engineer an escape and hijack a ship, prompting the warden to hire two shape-changing bounty hunters to pursue them to Earth. Studying life on Earth via various satellite television transmissions, the first bounty hunter assumes the form of rock star Johnny Steele, while the second remains undecided, thus retaining his blank, featureless head. On a rural Kansas farm, the Brown family sits down to breakfast. Father Jay and mother Helen send teenage daughter April and younger son Brad off to school while waiting on mechanic Charlie McFadden. A former baseball pitcher, Charlie has become the town drunk and crackpot, with claims of alien abductions foretold by messages through his fillings.

Playing with overly potent self-made fireworks and Charlie's slingshot, Brad takes the blame when Charlie accidentally shoots April and is grounded as a result. On the roof that evening, Brad mistakes the Critters' crashing spaceship for a meteorite; Jay and Brad investigate and interrupt the creatures consuming a cow. The creatures thereafter kill and feed on a local police officer, and later besiege the farm and cut its electrical connection. While checking the circuit breaker, Jay is attacked by one of the Critters and, being severely wounded, just barely manages to escape

.In the barn, April is about to have sex with her boyfriend Steve when he is killed by the one of the Critters; the creature itself is slain when it devours one of Brad's lit firecrackers. The remaining Critters sabotage the Browns' and Steve's cars, forcing the Browns to hole up inside the main house. Meanwhile, the two bounty hunters search the town for the Critters, causing a panic at the church and bowling alley, with the second hunter assuming the form of various townspeople, including Charlie. Brad escapes the farm to get help and runs into the bounty hunters, and upon learning of their true nature and intentions, he leads them to the Critters' location.

The last surviving Critters kidnap April and return to their ship when the bounty hunters arrive, and attempt to flee. Charlie and Brad manage to rescue April, but Brad drops a large firecracker he intended to use to destroy the ship when the Critters discover their escape. Just as the Critters take off and destroy the farmhouse out of spite, Charlie throws a Molotov cocktail made from his whiskey bottle into the ship, causing a fire which detonates the cracker and kills the Critters. The bounty hunters leave in their ship after giving Brad a handheld device to contact them in case of future invasion, and also restore the house. Unbeknownst to them, Critter eggs can be seen in the barn inside a chicken's nest that seem to be ready to hatch.

Final Thoughts on Critters: Critters is a wonderful film, despite what Rapheal from the teenage mutant ninja turtles might think but fuck him he has scabies. It’s fun, energetic, and ahs a great premise of instead of it JUST being on our heroes to repel the invaders, their caught between two diffrent sets of aliens instead and instead of a chisled jawed heroes the good aliens are simply bounty hunters with no care about collateral and only doing a job. It’s a damn fine film and I still need to make time to watch the sequel. 

Donald’s River Thing:

This is a simple one. Donald plans to go fishing, finds out it’s his and Daisy’s anniversary, her half birthday and valentine’s day and has to take her along and make it like a thing while being a dick about wanting to still fish, but in a very funny way while the local fish fight back. This is easily the standout of the episode incredibly funny, increidbly wholesome, and an incredibly good time. Really great stuff. 

Invincible Episodes 1-3:

This seires is fucking fantastic and you should go watch it. GO WATCH IT. 

Final Thoughts overall: 

YOUR NOT WATCHING IT

Final Thoughts Overall: This is a decent episode not much to say except HIT IT BOYS

#april fools day #the house of mouse #mickey mouse #donald duck #pete pete #minnie mouse #mortimer mouse #daisy duck #sam and max #timon #pumbaa #timon and pumbaa #invincible #critters #cheese #fine cheese

[hana-bean]

Close to you (6/7)

Even if I'm reborn someday I will surely find you

---

Serenity busted through the door of her shared chambers with the king, almost taking off the doorknob. Her excitement grew tenfold when she saw a clump of suitcases nestled in the corner.

“Mamo?” She looked around the room until she heard him respond from the bathroom.

“In here, Usa!”

She trotted over to him, catching him post-shower with a towel around his waist and cleaning his ears within the air's warm mist. With one rabbit jump, she threw her arms around his neck.

Endymion squeezed her waist. “How are you, Usa?”

“I’m good.” She nuzzled his neck.

“Are you sure?” He asked through a chuckle, concerned that her embrace felt tighter than normal.

“Yes. I just missed you.”

“I missed you, too.” He gently pulled her head back to give her a just-as-gentle reassuring kiss. “I got something for you. It’s on your nightstand.”

With Endymion trailing her, Serenity sauntered into the bedroom and toward her side of the bed to see the new and unfamiliar present sitting there—a red ceramic pot supported by three legs, with two handles on each side, and covered in red geometric flower designs. Its scent was distinct, like fragrant olives, causing her heart to race in hopefulness.

“What is this?”

“It’s an incense burner. I found it in Dubai. Does it look like the one you were looking for?”

Unable to remove her gaze from the apparatus, she put her fingers to her cheeks. “I… I don’t know. I mean, yes it does, but there are so many like it out there…”

“When you told me about the Starlights, I figured we could try to find something in the wild. I would send out my detail in each city we visited and one of them came back with this one. If nothing else, it’s a very unique and beautiful design. It would look good in the study.”

“Yes,” Serenity nodded her head. “Oh wow, if this is it, I don't know what I'd do! Thank you, Mamo!” She then took her husband in another tight, quick embrace before grabbing her phone to text Seiya.

---

Seiya burst through the door of his room to be met with Serenity standing at a desk, visibly trying to hide something.

He smirked. “With all due respect, your highness, do I need to be prepared for bad news?”

“Not on that level, I promise.” She winked and stepped aside to reveal the incense burner sitting on the tabletop.

Seiya’s eyes peered at it as his jaw dropped slightly, approaching the table with big strides, his faded gimp only a couple of days from disappearing.

“This is it.” His hands floated above the burner, afraid if he touched it, it would disappear. “This is hers.”

“Really?!”

He nodded with vigor as he looked at the queen with excitement in his eyes.

Serenity bounced and quietly clapped her hands with a grin. “That’s amazing! We found your princess! We did it!” She threw herself into Seiya’s open arms, the strength of her squeeze trying to match his.

While laughing and shrieking, they held each other while jumping in several circles. Though before too long, they stopped for a few moments until they caught themselves sinking too deep. Pulling away with blushes, they looked in every other direction besides at each other.

Seiya cleared his throat and scratched his head. “So where did you find this?”

“Mamo found it during his travels. Can you believe that? The database is only at twenty percent right now. Who knows when or if it would have found it.”

He sighed as his eyes glistened with the onset of tears of joy. “This is amazing. We’ve been looking for so long… I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your help.”

“If anyone, you need to thank the king the next time you see him.”

He nodded, his awkwardness about that prospect reflected in his darted gaze.

Serenity then bent over while resting her hands on her knees as she peered into the holes of the top. “So is she in there?”

“Maybe. I definitely feel her energy.”

“Aww, I’m sure she’s so cute being that little. Does she have a kitchen in there?”

Seiya snorted. “She’s not like… a mini fairy princess, she’s a regular-sized person. She can just take on different forms.”

“How does that work?”

“We’re able to harness the power of stars. Since stars are technically a gas, they can take the form of whatever shape it wants. And when mixed with guardian magic, we’re able to take the form of things like human males, or as an… astral body of sorts.”

“Ah,” she nodded as she straightened back up; the explanation only caused more questions to germinate in her mind. “So how do we get her out?”

He slipped his hands in his pants pockets before shrugging. “We don’t. She’ll come out when she’s ready. If she’s even in there…”

Again, Serenity nodded, the silence hanging on their shoulders, their eyes avoiding each other. She bit into her lips and pulled a stray tendril behind her ear.

“Are you doing okay, Seiya?”

“Yeah… yeah, I’m fine.”

“I know we haven’t properly talked about what happened.”

“You don’t have to explain… your highness.” He gulped, adding the formality at the end on purpose to re-establish and reverse their intimate dynamic.

“I just wanted to confirm that you will be discreet about it.”

“Of course. I haven’t told a soul—I wouldn’t tell a soul!” Taking his hands out of his pockets to gesture, Seiya rambled in an effort to prove true to his word. “You’ve helped us so much and we owe you so much. The last thing I want to do is tarnish your image. I know you’re a good person and what happened has not changed my respect for you. You are still my queen first and foremost.”

Serenity giggled. “You consider me your queen?”

He choked on his voice. “Well… uh…”

“Would your princess be okay to hear that?” She held an open hand next to her mouth as she whispered with a wink.

“Yeah, you’re right.” Seiya displayed an uneasy grin as he gingerly grabbed the burner from its handles and went into his closet. After placing it on a shelf, he whispered for its forgiveness and then closed the door on his way out.

Pausing to gather his wits, he then angled his body in a bow toward the queen. “After discussing it with the others, we decided we would like to take residence here if the offer is still available, your highness.”

“Yes, of course, Seiya.”

“However, if we have to take an oath—pledge our allegiance to you—we ask that you still recognize our loyalty to our princess.”

“Of course." She stepped toward him. "I will not take away her royal status, nor invalidate your allegiance to her.”

He came back up. “Thank you, your highness. We’re forever indebted to you. And again, I understand that day was a heat-of-the-moment, impulsive, one-time… thing. We can forget it ever happened.”

The side of Serenity's mouth twitched into a disappointed smile. “Personally, I don’t want to forget.”

He couldn’t believe his ears. “You don’t?”

“Do you want to forget what happened?”

“I—no… I thought that’s what you wanted.”

Her fingers traced the buttons of his shirt as she chuckled at his assumption and deepened her voice. “All I asked was for you to be discreet, not to forget about it.”

As his breath and body quivered at her words and touch, Seiya stayed put as she inched closer. “Yes… I can do that… both of those.”

She smirked. “That is, unless you want to forget about it, I can respect that,” she drew her fingers back.

While shaking his head, his hands came up to grasp her hands and pull her body into his. “No. I wouldn’t have, even if you asked me to.”

Having maintained her smirk, she leaned in to engage in a passionate kiss with him, wrapping her arms around his neck as his hands explored her waist, hips, and bottom over her silky dress. While they both craved to take the makeout session further, Serenity pulled away with a kittenish giggle.

“I, um… I have a meeting in a little bit. And I know you have some news to break to Taiki and Yaten.”

“What time is your meeting?” He cocked an eyebrow.

“Soon.” She emphasized, pecking him on the lips before walking out of his hold.

“Will we be able to continue this?”

With her hand resting on the doorknob, she turned to give him a wink. “Of course, but later.”

He chuckled, happy to be at her mercy. “Whenever you need, your highness.”

Just as she was about to take her leave, Serenity caught sight of a small picture frame sitting on the desk. The person in the photo intrigued her to the point that she abandoned her intent to exit to walk over and grab the frame for a closer look.

“Who’s this?”

Seiya stepped closer to verify exactly what she was looking at. “That’s my mom.”

Her mouth formed a smile as she released a gasp. “Really? Where is she?”

“She died.” He cleared his throat. “Before Galaxia, though. She had cancer.”

Sighing, she put a sympathetic hand to her chest. “I’m so sorry to hear that. Was she a guardian, too?”

“Yep! That’s where I get it from.”

“She’s beautiful.” She placed the frame back down on the desk. “She reminds me of someone.”

“Oh yeah? Who?”

She shook her head with a smile; there was no time today to get into that. “Someone else special to me. I’ll tell you about her later.”

As the queen finally departed from his room, Seiya picked up the frame for one last nostalgic look at the woman with pink hair and red eyes.

---

---

Please note if you would like to follow this story, I will be updating the rest of the chapters under the tag: hana bean close to you and other iterations of the spacing. I love you all!

#hana bean closetoyou #hana bean close to you #hanabeanclosetoyou #hanabean close to you #hana-bean close to you #hana-bean closetoyou #seiya usagi fanfiction #seiya x usagi 4eva #seiya x usagi fanfiction #seiya kou fanfiction #seiya x usagi

[infiniteoddball]

A/n: Chapter One . I know I don’t usually switch POV’s in stories, but for this story, it feels quite relevant and needed. This story is going to be heavily based in Angst & some happiness and smartassery here and there. (In exciting news! this marks my 1,000 post!)  Tags: Angst; Hints at Sex: Talks of possible sexual abuse  Tagging: @storiesofsvu​ @svushots @barsonaddict @wall1418 @vivis-ghost-wife @teyamarra 

Olivia sat across from Barba, pushing her food around her plate. She didn’t know what to say about her earlier conversation, or if she should even bring it up. Rita’s words sat heavily in her conscious. She didn’t know what to make of it. She knew she could possibly be going down a rabbit hole, or she might be right. She took a sip of her wine, but still stayed silent.

“Okay, spill. What is going on?” He quipped.

“Nothing...I mean...” Olivia sighed, “It’s just, this conversation that I had with Rita is not sitting well with me. It feels like she confessed something but didn’t at the same time.”

“Olivia,” He evenly said, “What are you talking about? I am completely lost here.” 

“You know Rita better than me. Why did she leave the district attorney’s office?” Olivia looked up at him, wondering why she was thinking so heavily into this.

“Why are you asking? What conversation?”

“She said something to me today that makes me think she left because of abuse,” She bit her lip, pushing her semi-full plate away, “I mean-What she said was concerning to me. I have never seen her so small. She has never been that sloppy in court...” Olivia’s words drifted off as she slipped into her thoughts.

“Liv,” Rafael snapped his fingers to pull her attention back, “Rita? Sloppy? What are you talking about? Hello?” He took her hand into his, running his thumb over her knuckles, “Talk to me.”

Olivia blushed, turning her hand upwards as she grazed her fingers over his wrist, “Okay. I have never seen Rita, in all these years, threatened to be held in contempt of court. Have you ever seen that happen with her? I mean, not only that, but Carisi told me that she was semi-combative with the judge. I am pretty sure that didn’t help Chip Gallagher. Also, I mean, I have seen her be hostile with witness, but only ever when she has asked to treat them like a hostile witness. However, something just...I honestly don’t know if I am overthinking this. ”

Rafael shook his head, “Never. But why are you asking about her leaving the district attorney? Does this have to do with the conversation you had with her?” 

“Today, I was in the elevator with her. I asked her why she was still defending men like Chip Gallagher. She said if I didn’t get on the proper side that my career would become marginalized. Normally, that isn’t something that bothers me, but it was the way that Rita said it. She said it as if it was a warning that she shouldn’t be giving. More so, it was the last thing she said to me that got me. She said, verbatim, ‘my advice...lie back and pretend you’re enjoying it.’ I got a chill down my spine. It was almost like she shrunk by two inches after she said that.” Liv looked up at Rafael, “What do you think? Maybe this might not be anything, but she also wasn’t wearing her normal tailored suits. What she was wearing was kind of baggy on her.”

“Rita left the District Attorney after losing a case that would have been hard on anyone. She fought harder than I ever saw her fight. She wanted justice for her victim that she was defending, but she lost. She seemed very disconnected, disillusioned and quite frankly? Emotional. Especially since she was very close with the victim. It was the first and last time I saw her connect past a professional relationship with a victim, or currently known as a client.” Rafael sighed heavily, “She never disclosed to me if that is what you are getting at. As far as I know, there were no disclosures or firings for abuse of power the year that she left, but I can always check for you.” Rafael stated.

Olivia leaned forward, resting her chin in her hand, “Am I overthinking this?”

Rafael leaned forward, pausing as he kissed her briefly, “With what you have right now, I would call it circumstantial, but in all my years I have known you, you have never been wrong about these kinds of things. Why are you second guessing yourself now?”

“Because it’s Rita Calhoun. For as long as I have known Rita Calhoun, this is completely out of her realm of behavior. Wait, you said she was connected with the victim? What was the case?”

“I don’t know Liv. That was years ago. Look, all I can remember is she was almost charged with contempt. Then that night, she told me over a glass of bourbon that she put her notice in effective immediately. A few weeks later, I was facing her in court.” Rafael shrugged.

“Contempt? Rafi, I know I am grasping for straws, but this has got to be connected. Was she close to anyone else?”

“Liv,” Rafael cupped her cheeks, tilting her head upwards, “Rabbit hole. You are grasping for straws. Why don’t you talk to her? She disclosed something to you. Or she was warning you. Either way, you need to talk to her before you go jumping to conclusions, because clearly, whatever it is that she is trying to tell you is important and it will effect you one way or another.”

“Rafael I am not-“

Her words were cut short as Rafael pulled her in for a long, languid kiss. He slowly pulled away, “Let’s go to bed before you get too far in.” He grinned.

—————————————

Olivia threw the covers back, getting up nearly an hour before her alarm would be going off. She stood, pulling her shirt and panties on before she made her way to the bathroom. She managed to sleep a few hours since Rafael had worn her out, but this...it just wasn’t sitting well with her. Everything that Rafael had told her was making her mind race. 

She flicked the handle upwards on the sink, getting herself a glass of water before making herself comfortable on Rafael’s couch. She sipped her drink slowly, thinking about Rita. She sighed deeply, massaging her temple. She felt her stomach clench. She knew, deep down, Rita wasn’t a person that got sloppy. She knew that she wasn’t crazy. Something happened to Rita. 

She glanced at the clock, sighing with the fact that it was only six am. She dropped head against the back of the couch as she sank further into the comfortable fabric. She finished her drink before standing. She grabbed one of his legal pads before sitting at his desk, “She was admitting something to me,” She mumbled.

By the time Olivia had to get ready for work, she had a basic timeline sketched out. She also had written down any names of judges, current or present, that were known for their abuse. Olivia was so lost in thought that she nearly screamed as Rafael grazed his lips along her neck. 

“When did you get up?” 

“A couple of hours ago,” She said honestly, flipping the notepad over, “I need to get going, I will call you when I can come over again,” She gave him a hurried kiss before leaving him in the dining room to get dressed. 

*** “Rita!” Olivia called as she ran down the courthouse steps, “Hey! Got a minute?” 

Rita glanced over her shoulder, feeling her stomach clench, “Benson, not really. I am headed to meet a client.” 

Olivia drank in the fact that she was wearing a tailored pants suit, “I can walk and talk,” She stated as she caught up with Rita, “I just wanted to ask you a question!” Olivia gently touched Rita’s arm to catch her attention, “Why did you leave the district attorney?” 

Rita felt her stomach drop as she turned to face Olivia, “Why are you asking me about this?” 

“Because you are hiding something,” Olivia bluntly stated, “You admitted something to me in that elevator. What I can’t figure out if it was intentional or to protect me.” 

Rita looked over her face, knowing she was screwed. The past was finally coming to haunt her, “I regularly go up against you in court defending rapists, and criminals. Now, you are questioning why I am doing this?” 

“Yes.” 

Rita rubbed her temple, turning away from her, “I have to go. I don’t have time for this.” 

Olivia grabbed her elbow, standing in front of her, “Clearly you do if you were acting so out of character to the point you basically insinuated that I should turn a blind eye to corruption. What happened?” She questioned. 

Rita felt her nostrils flare as she took a deep breath, “I grew close to a victim named Natalie Burse and I promised her that I would win her case. A case that broke the both of us. Are you done with your witch hunt now?!” She snapped. 

Olivia dropped her arm, “I have more questions. Call me when you can,” She stated as she stepped out of her way. Olivia waited until she was around the corner before she called Fin, “Hey, I need you to dig up everything that you can with a victim by the name of Natalie Burse.”  

#frenzied notions #rita calhoun #barson #rafael barba #law and order: svu #SVU #fic #calhoun #original character