#I’ll blame it on that one ‚how to draw anime‘ book

[hoseoksluna]

BOOKWORMS | knj

pairing: boyfriend!namjoon x reader

genre: smut; fluff

word count: 4.4k

summary: namjoon thinks of you when he reads a smut scene in his book.

warnings: boyfriend namjoon!!!, kimi namijoon reading, mentions of sex (riding), oral sex (f. receiving), nipple play, the importance of consent, teasing, raw sex, breeding kink <3, big dick namu!!, dom/sub dynamics, spanking, joonie's chain dangling in ur face, tummy bulge, creampie, bruising, hickeys, aftercare:(

note: it took blood, sweat and tears (hehe) to write this and i'm so happy it's finally here!! i loved writing about namjoon. he's my whole soul and the entirety of my heart and i have to write abt him again soon. please take your time reading this and enjoy urself! let me know what you think in the comments mwah (or tell me anonymously in my inbox) and as i always say please like and if u want to - reblog, but i won't pressure u baby. love love you!!

side note: if you want to jump straight to the smut, it's right under the asterisks &lt;;3

You revel, you truly do, in seeing your boyfriend in such a serene state of mind. 

Nose buried in a book, Namjoon pays no mind to the surroundings fleeting by him with each flutter of his eyelashes. It goes unnoticed by him, strangely so, how you tidy up the apartment you share. How you feed the two cats that chose you and him to be their human parents. How you fondle their soft ears. How you bend over the furniture to whisper ‘pspsps’ at them when they need a moment away from you just to see their round eyes look up at you stupidly. Namjoon usually observes these moments; this utmost natural behavior of yours. He draws strength from the homeliness of it all with each and every swell of his lungs. Needs it to survive. That is until he gets a hold of that one papery portal and sits comfortably on the couch, one ankle propped over the knee. Then, he ceases to exist in this world. 

You’re happy for him. Over time, you’ve come to find that you have a certain fondness for the way he remains stoic. Because you always know what kind of book he’s reading, a smile blossoms on its own over the line of your lips whenever your eye catches the sculpture-like look on his face. It’s like even if he let himself hold his breath, his consciousness would waver back to the earth and the wretched awareness that he’s here, among mortals and the unfair capitalist system aftermath, would stream in his bloodstream, poisoning his experience. It takes the leisure out of it and makes the bed for misery instead. He doesn’t like it. Hates it, in fact. It’s a necessity that he focuses, as he embarks on the journey, because he does it for you.

Namjoon confides in his feelings and his literature with you almost on a daily basis. On the same couch, with the same cats snoring faintly, their small bodies spilling over the perimeter of your tangled legs. Doesn’t matter if it’s his thigh or the curve of your hip. The animals always find a warm crook to doze in, eavesdropping in, with their curious little ears, on the conversations you’re having. Though you reckon they like the meat of his thigh the best. You do, too. Can’t really blame them. The same serenity that intimately knows the person of Namjoon perceives the person of you when he prompts you to rest your head on his lap while he brushes his book-kissed fingers through the silky waterfall of your hair. Thoroughly explains the intricacies of the plot he’s invested in to you. Describes the characters as if they’re real people he’s become acquainted with. They are real to you as you listen. As you ask additional questions and gaze up at his eyes just to catch that one body of a shooting star fiery hot in the glossiness of his eyes. As you wonder, openly, what will happen to them.

“I’ll tell you when they tell me.” He sunk the promise onto the smooth skin of your forehead with the pucker of his lips.

It’s how you discovered, in all seriousness, that the plaster of his stoicism breaks during these literary moments.

Various colors of emotion tug and twist his features, the bare kind. The unrestrained kind. You know it’s a relief for him when the dam bursts open, soaking you in the beauty of humanness one only finds in literature these days. You can’t help but fall in love with him all over again when his eyebrows furrow. When his orbs nearly burn a hole in the ceiling when he’s trying to think of the right word that will ultimately help him convey the unfolding of the storyline. When he gives up and weaves English into his sentences, relying on his hands to say what his overstimulated brain fails to do. 

He reads to pass knowledge to you. The serenity whispered it into the chambers of your heart, a puff of hot breath in winter’s cold. It soothingly rubbed his shoulders when Namjoon told you there used to be a time when he couldn’t stand the sight of his books lining up the walls of his apartment. Wanted to burn it down and watch as the evidence of his melancholy dies in front of him. Because that’s what most of his book collection consisted of back then. The innermost shadowy faces of his pain. Loneliness. Sadness. Despair from life, from it not being enough for him, from it not saving a spot there for him–not once throughout the course of his life. That’s why he reads different kinds of books now. Ones that do not reflect his survival before you.

The reader has to get wiser, ruffled by life in order to gain more, gain what they need from those once deeply loved pages. It’s what the serenity believes. It’s what you believe and hope for Namjoon. That one day, somehow by the healing of the love you give him, he will look back and pick a souvenir from that moonless country of pain. Put it up somewhere between the spines of his new cluttered collection. Look at it from time to time and sense that it’s telling him something. Something that will fill the stitched-up cracks in his heart with sunlight. Something that he will pass over to you. It’s your love language after all. Namjoon reads because you read. It’s his own personal healing thing. 

You two are just a pair of two bookworms. Unfit for the world outside. Fit for the land you two created. Whose soil you take care of together.

***

Dinner is almost ready by the time you feel his fingertips gripping your hips. You hum, acknowledging his presence. Glad for the homely heat that radiates off of his body and seeps into your bones as you stir the risotto you decided to make on the stove. Coldness had been embracing you all day while he read so you’re overjoyed that he ripped it away from you.

Namjoon places a kiss on your temple and you sigh in relief. You might be too dependent on him, but so is he. He wouldn’t be nuzzling his face in your hair, squeezing your waist, peppering kisses on your tender skin if he wasn’t. It’s the perfect balance. And it’s not that you’re not able to be away from each other. The principle of looking forward to one another is what makes it so sweet, so endurable for the pair of you. Of the coming back and coming into contact at the end of the day. It’s natural. Simple. Human.

“Missed me?” Namjoon husks into your ear. 

You smirk and turn off the stove, turning around to face him. “Terribly.”

His body is clad in a black T-shirt that fits his broad figure well and a pair of baggy sweats of the same color, having discarded the warm crewneck he was wearing earlier somewhere in the universe of his book. A long silver chain twinkles in the middle of his chest in the yellow light. You caress it with your fingers and leave your palm there, on the hardness of his pecs. 

“I finished the book,” he says and you blink up at him. You’re not surprised at all. “Couldn’t put it down.”

Sleepy wrinkles have left their mark on his face from the cozy position he laid in for too long on the couch. His short sunlit hair, grown healthily from his military service, is tousled in all directions and you smooth it down for him. How did God bless you with such a beautiful man is something you’ll wonder about for the rest of your life. 

“What happened to Theo in the end?” you ask, genuinely curious about whether one of the characters you’ve grown attached to is okay after all the shit the author put him through. 

Namjoon was reading a coming-of-age book about a boy named Theo. A panorama of his childhood and adolescent life, you’ve heard all about it. Namjoon cared a lot about this story, cared a lot about the protagonist’s emotions and reactions to the reappearing storms. What made him stick with it, despite the nearly triggering themes, is the fact that Theo never let go of his optimism no matter what. It was incredibly inspiring for Namjoon. Something new. Something that he never thought could be possible. You’re proud of him for daring to read a book so reminiscent of his past.

“You’re not gonna believe it,” Namjoon says, a blush creeping along his cheeks.

You raise one of your eyebrows in question. 

“Theo got laid,” Namjoon reveals, laughing softly. “I’m so happy for him.”

You gasp and burst into giggles. “What?”

“He got some!” 

Your laughter rises in volume. “He lost his virginity and that’s the end?”

“It was a big moment for him. A triumph of some kind. Like he shed his old skin and left that broken life behind. It was amazing.” Namjoon’s eyes glint with tiny shooting stars and you melt. He always finds poetic meanings in the varieties of the character arcs. You think you just fell in love with him all over again. 

“That’s really beautiful,” you admit. It reminds you of something. Of something quite personal. “My first time with you changed my life as well.”

Namjoon’s eyebrows curl in tenderness. Dragon eyes widen and round in fervent emotion. He squeezes his arms around you, enfolding you in a hug. Kisses you warmly. Strokes your hair down your back. Your own eyes pool with little tears with the intimate knowledge that you chose the right person to unfold your raw femininity with. No one, no man other than him could have created such a safe for that to happen.

“Tell you what,” Namjoon says a bit hoarsely. “I saw us in it.”

You hum, encouraging him to continue. Crave for more of his thoughts and confidential findings. Its fire spreading through your body, as each word of his registers in your brain, always makes you feel phenomenally alive. You’re not timid to avow that it’s your addiction. Shame doesn’t know you.

“Elena was on top and he was watching her. In awe of her,” he murmurs, caressing your cheek with the tip of his thumb. “Made me think of our last time. A life changing experience of mine as well.”

You welcome the fire and suspire with sudden desire, eyes lidding. Your heart begins to thump. Namjoon studies your reaction. 

“You remember well, don’t you?” He nudges his nose against yours. “I was in awe of you just the same.” 

It’s impossible not to remember. The memory consumes your mind every waking hour. Gets you needy in ways you haven’t felt before. Namjoon had you sat on his lap among the fluffiness of your innumerable pillows and plushies. Had you do all the work as he focused on the sleekness of your freshly moisturized calves, its coconut aroma interfused with the scent of sex and the euphony of your bounces, ragged breaths and broken moans making his head all fucked up. He was loud himself, more loud than you ever recalled him being. Reading your body at the mercy of the pleasure his hard length was giving you with his bottom lip sucked between his teeth. Not once did he take his eyes off of you, not once did he help you. Just gripped your calves. Your thighs. Your tits all in his face. Only when you came hard, out of your own delightful merit, did his eyes roll back. You left his hips glazed with the evidence of your well-deserved orgasm, a porcelain statue made glossy.

A little later, during your pillow talk, he told you he’d found the idea of you using him while getting yourself off extremely hot. Made him more hard than he’d been in a while. Begged you to be even more selfish next time, adding an indistinct, ‘well, of course, if you want’ to the end of his sentence because he’s Namjoon.

“I do,” you breathe. “Touched myself to it this morning while you were still asleep.”

Namjoon groans. “God.” He kisses the side of your neck. Gets close to your ear. “You wanna do it again, hm? Wanna fuck me?” 

You might burst. His closeness, his heat, his need to ask for your consent turns you unstable. You’re choked up on your words, mind too fuzzy to say something. Turned on. Fucked up.

“You wanna show me how you touched yourself?” Namjoon continues, but you shake your head against the side of his face. 

You had touched yourself in the shower. Couldn’t say no to the impulse. Sharing that part of you for his eyes to see isn’t something you’re quite ready for. To you, it’s still something that’s yours. Something private. A courage you have yet to pluck up. You’re afraid to give him this last part of your femininity.

“Not today,” you whisper, planting a kiss on his neck. Feel him shiver. “I’m sorry. Do you mind?”

Withdrawing from your neck, Namjoon looks you dead in the eye, brows twisted in stern seriousness. “Don’t ever apologize for something like that again. Hear me when I say that.”

You squeeze his shoulder, the corners of your mouth lowering in a pout. Thankfulness grips your heart and suddenly it’s hard to breathe. 

“You know this is why we do this right?” he asks you. “Why I ask you these questions? I need to always know what you’re comfortable with so I don’t make a mistake.”

You nod. “Yes, Namjoon, I know and I’m so thankful.”

“Good. I’ll never push you to do anything you don’t want. Don’t forget that, okay?”

“Okay, I won’t.” 

“That’s my girl. 

You grab him by the back of his neck and engulf him in a hug. Luckiest girl in the world? That you are. The fact that you’re his is still something you can’t wrap your head around.

“We can stop. We don’t even have to do anything tonight—”

“No, Namjoon.” You withdraw. “Look.” Wrapping your hand around his wrist, you slip his hand beneath the confines of your panties. 

His breath shakes when he reaches your soaked folds. He traces your hole with his middle finger and your hips follow his movement, the pleasure so faint but so good that you flutter your eyes closed.

“Fuck, baby.” 

“Yeah, I need you. Need more,” you breathe out. “Can’t leave me like this, can you?”

Namjoon hums. “No, I’ll take care of you. I’ll take care of this pussy.” 

He kisses you. Massages his tongue against yours. You buck your hips into his hand and Namjoon hears your body language. Takes his fingers up and rubs your swollen clit from side to side, quickening his pace as he swallows your moans down his throat. Gets angry at your tight leggings hindering him in giving you more, so he gets on his knees and swiftly pulls them down along with your underwear. 

“Sit on the counter.”

You comply right away. Namjoon takes your feet in his hands and gently removes your slippers, removing your garments fully so they don’t pool around your ankles. He needs your legs spread and he needs them spread wide for what he’s about to do to you. 

Torso long enough to reach you, he remains on his knees. Runs his hands up the back of your thighs to guide you into the position he wants you in. “Lock your arms around the back of your knees. Don’t let go.”

You do as he says, biting your lips in nervousness. Intertwine your hands together. Prepare yourself to die. 

Namjoon studies your dewy pussy, index and middle finger mimicking the letter V as he slides them up and down your folds, squeezing just right to hear you mewling. Your knees being so close together makes her look a lot more pillowy and you hear Namjoon breathe hard, absolutely hypnotized by the beauty of your flesh. 

“Fuck, baby, you’re dripping down my hand.” He withdraws his fingers to show you how your slick trickles down the lines on his palm, changing the course of his life once and for all. 

Your clit throbs, breath matching his. “Please, Namjoon.”

He curses inaudibly. Brings his fingers back down to your folds, squeezes your lips and your clit together. Hisses at the sweet whimpery sounds spilling out of your mouth. Presses tighter so you whine needily for him. Takes you into his mouth when he accomplished what he wanted, tonguing your clit in slow agonizing circles that has you buckling your hips again. Puts his hands on your thighs to keep you down, flicking fast to absolutely abuse the fuck of you. Dragon eyes zeroing on yours, he gives you the hypnosis that your pussy did to him as he sucks on your bundle of nerves. You can’t even scream. Can’t breathe. The pleasure overwhelms you wholly and straps you down. There’s nothing you can do but take it. 

You come hard on his tongue. Namjoon laps it all up gladly. And when he’s finished, he stands up and slips those two digits that ruined you into your hole. Doesn’t move them. Lets you adjust instead.

“One more,” he mutters. “Please.”

You nod.

“Use your words or we’re stopping.”

You groan and close your eyes, your thighs visibly shaking in your iron grip from your orgasm. “Yes, Namjoon, one more. I’ll come for you.”

Namjoon places a wet kiss on your thigh to praise you, and to thank you as well. Begins to move his fingers promptly, but can’t seem to get enough of your skin. Proceeds to make it shiny with his liquid love, sucking it to bruise you. To remember this moment a little more fondly in the morning. 

Creating a trail up to the back of your knee, his digits pick up the speed. The pool of slick you left in his palm sloshes with each rapid thrust of his hand. He looks back at you and sees you lost in the pleasure, eyes lidded and unfocused. “Look at me.” 

You do, weakly.

“Just a little bit more and I’ll fuck you, all right?”

You’re about to nod, but decide against it. “Mhm, yes, Namjoon, fuck.” 

He smiles down at you. Your relief inches closer. “I’m so proud of you for speaking up today. For letting me know.” 

You could cry right now. Because of his fingers making you feel so good. Because of his kindness making you feel so safe. It all closes in on you and you whimper. 

Abruptly, Namjoon unravels your grip on your knees and kisses you, tongue slipping in. You come all over his hand, without meaning to, and he doesn’t stop. On the contrary, Namjoon fucks you harder. Takes all four of his fingers and strums your clit, prolonging your orgasm, swallowing down all of your moans. 

“Come on.”

Namjoon helps you down. If it weren’t for his arms holding you steady, you would’ve collapsed on the floor. Your legs shake, muscles taut and tense. 

“I got you.”

Sat on the floor with his joggers and boxers pulled beneath his crotch, he pulls you down on his lap. A wisp of precum adorns his tip and you wrap your hand around it, collecting it with your thumb. Watch him as you swirl your tongue around the digit before sucking on it, letting go with an obscene pop. Namjoon licks his lips, hands clasping your hips hard enough to bruise you. Twitches in your other hand.

“Don’t fucking do that to me, baby.” 

You laugh almost inaudibly, drunk on him. “Are you gonna come in me?” 

He replaces your hand, holding his length at the base for you to sink down. And you do, gasping softly at his thickness. Your dewiness helps it to be a smooth ride.

“Gonna pump you full. Leave you dripping,” he promises, voice restrained. “Gonna fuck you so good you’ll remember it for the rest of your life.” 

One thing about Namjoon, he’s a man of his word. 

Seated perfectly on him, he waits for you to adjust. Alleviates the tremble of your thighs with his palms, massaging the muscles. Takes off your shirt and flings it across the kitchen. Gropes your tits, rolling your nipples between his fingers. You start to grind on him, throwing your head back. He latches onto your nipple and flicks the nub with his tongue. You lose your mind, leaking down his balls. 

“Ready?” he asks against the fullness of your breast. 

“Yeah, fuck me, Joon.” 

He thrusts into you once to watch you fall apart. Locks your arms behind your back. Grabs your forearms for his use.

“You forgot something.”

He thrusts again, harder this time.

“What?” you breathe out, meekly. 

“What word do you use when you want to ask for something?”

He watches you as you work it out in your brain. Fucks into you three more times, equally hard, to disrupt you. 

“Fuck, sorry. Please, Joon, please.”

He grinds, hips rotating in circles. 

“Uh-huh, that’s right. Now use it.” 

Namjoon envelops your tit in his mouth, swirling his tongue around your areola. Sucking. Keeping up the agonizing pace. Groaning when you clench down on him. 

“Please, hmph, fuck me.”

Your breast bounces back when he lets go, biting his lip. “Knew you could do it,” he coos. “Smart fucking girl.” 

He begins to fuck you properly. Thrusting up and down as he holds you steady, keeping his eyes locked on yours. As he takes control of your squirming, leaving his fingerprints on your forearms and waist. You’re breathless, whimpering, on the verge of sobbing. So turned on and needy for him that the emotions brim in you, threatening to spill over. 

“Aren’t you?” Namjoon continues. “Aren’t you a smart girl?” 

You nod, knowing exactly what he wants to hear. “I’m a smart girl.” 

He spanks your ass to reward you and you arch your back. Tits all in his face. He’s mesmerized watching them bounce and nearly slap against each other, nubs hard and pointed. He licks them up, flicking them with his tongue. You round your shoulders a little in pleasure, his strong grip not letting you fold like your body wants. 

“That’s right. So smart and good for me. So fucking wet. Making me lose my mind.”

Namjoon kisses you. Inhales you. Withdraws only for a mere second before he’s back, tongue in, toying with you the way you like it. You feel your relief calling your name.

“Namjoon, I’m so fucking close. I’m so close. I’m gonna come,” you whine, forehead pressed against his, face twisted in ecstasy.

Namjoon stops out of the blue and slips out of you. You whine loudly, but before you know it, he carries you to the couch and lays you down on it. Takes off all of his clothes until only his silver chain remains, shining bright in the dim light. He spreads your legs, one limb over the backrest, the other around his thigh. Grips his length and tugs at it a few times, the feeling of your wetness making him slippery pulling moan after moan out of him. 

He enters you again and resumes his fast pace, holding your calf in his hand. “Smart girls come on the couch, not on the floor like whores. You got that?” 

You nod almost too eagerly, fucked out beyond measure. “Yes, Joon, please make me come. Please, come here.” 

Namjoon leans towards you, propping his elbows by your head, cradling you. “I’m here. I’m gonna make you come.” 

From this angle, he fucks you more deeply than before, his tip reaching your cervix. You roll your eyes back, but bring them right back to his face when his chain taps you on the chin. You find it so hot that you grind your hips against his, meeting his thrusts, encouraging him to fuck you harder. The chain meets you in erratic staccatos and you scratch your nails down his bare back, the sword-like pendant hurting you in a way that you like. 

Namjoon notices. Slows down his movements. Pinches the chain from the back of his neck. Prompts you to lift your head and slides it over, letting it rest in the middle of your breasts. Then fucks you back into the couch.  

“So fucking beautiful,” he murmurs against your lips. “Gonna breed you. Hm. You want that, don’t you?”

The cord tightens in your lower belly. The bulge of where his tip is hitting you nudges him in his stomach and he looks down. Curses. 

“Look.” 

You follow his eyes and moan. “Namjoon, Namjoon, please come in me. I’m so close. Wanna feel you. Please.” 

He grunts, nodding his head. Licks his fingertips and presses them against your clit. Pleasures you in fast and swift jerks until you’re knocking your head back. Only when he grabs your jaw and kisses you does the cord snap, his lips being your ultimate undoing. 

Namjoon presses you down with his body, keeps you calm and collected. Kisses you all through it, your jaw, your neck, your cheeks. Then his thrusts turn sloppy and his cock twitches in you. He gives you one final hard thrusts and fills you up, groaning against your mouth.

You’re smoothing down the sting of your scratches on his back when he pulls out of you and his cum drips out of you. You wish you could see what he sees, hand on his mouth, careful to catch his drool. You push out more for him and he curses, fondling your pussy with his thumb before he pumps it back in. 

He comes back to you and kisses you. Fixes your hair. Caresses your cheek. Helps you stand on your feet as he leads you into the shower. Washes every inch of your body, heedful of the bruises he left on the back of your thigh. Lathers your hair in your favorite shampoo. Wraps you in a towel. Wanted to moisturize your body, but you told him off, knowing both of you would get horny again. You let him brush your hair, though, placing a comb in his hand. He’s gentle as he undoes the knots, then he blowdries your hair. 

And you do the same for him.

Once the pillow touches your cheeks, you’re both out like a light. 

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.

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#namjoon smut #namjoon x reader #namjoon x y/n #namjoon x oc #namjoon x you #btscreatorscorner #bts smut #bts imagine #namjoon imagine #namjoon scenarios #namjoon fluff #kpop smut #knj x reader #knj #kim namjoon #namjoon

[liv-is]

Why I haven’t written in several months

Im being dramatic—it’s been like 3.

Hello writeblr buds, I miss u and I hope the past few months have been as kind and restful as possible 🥰 I realized it’s been some time since I’ve written anything (or written anything about writing anything) and for some reason it’s of some importance to me that it doesn’t look like I vanished or lost interest/commitment to the space.

I’m trying to quit my fuck ass job :/

I have a whole lot of feelings about the job + the field itself and why I think my time in it is drawing to a close, but I probably won’t take the time to write about it here, unprompted. What’s much more exciting for me is, I think, my goal itself.

I realized in like November that I’m doing that thing again—waiting for my life to start. It started when I received an art book Kickstarter reward in the mail and held a very pretty holographic print in my hands up to the light in my bedroom. My bedroom walls were bare, and had been for the past year and some change, when I moved into this unit. I hadn’t felt comfortable decorating knowing I’d be moving out in “only two years”. I caught myself waiting for permanent stability again. Oops! My bad.

I spent hours decorating my walls with all the prints I’d accumulated over the past several years and I felt…. A way. I started using stickers in my journal.

What was I waiting for? What the fuck was wrong with me?

I’ve known I wanted to center art and creativity in my life for as long as I can remember. I’m not going to blame my parents or whatever, but I was told over and over again not to throw myself into pursuing art as a career. It’s not financially viable. “You’ll never make a red cent.” I’d never told them at all that I wanted to do art for a living. I convinced myself for a long time that I didn’t. Lol.

Before I graduated from college in 2020, I faced a decision. I could go to art school, I thought. I could get an MFA. I held an art school catalog in my hand that is requested in the mail. I’d carried it everywhere for months.

I went to grad school instead. Not that I’m bitching about getting into such a prestigious program in my field, but it always felt like the ultimate compromise. It’s something I could tell my parents about and have them be proud of me, while hopefully I could devote time to art on the side. It’s what I’d been doing for the past four years—compromising. I had a professor or three notice, even. Lol.

I moved to a new city in 2020, alone. I was turbo depressed. One day, I spent hours watching animated student films on youtube and bawling my eyes out. Before I had graduated from college, I’d faced a decision and chosen wrong. I asked myself over and over—What do you do if you chose wrong?

Grad school was a nightmare, and I’d rather die than go back, but I don’t even necessarily regret going, I think. I think it was important for me to be in this profession, at least for a time. Maybe this is just me coping, lol, but going to grad school inspired much of what I ventured to write in 2022 and 2023.

Anyways, when I recently held that holographic print up to my bare landlord-white walls, I realized that if I waited any longer to let myself live my life how I wanted, then I was an idiot. In kinder words. I have no excuse not to. I’m giving myself massive grace by believing truly that the past seven years were not a waste of time, but I can’t lie to myself that I’m satisfied with the way my life is right now.

The point is-- I’ve slowed down writing recently because my focus has shifted to art. I’m DEFINITELY not done writing. Not at all! I just realized that if I want to achieve my goal of making enough consistent money off of art to leave my job, I’ll have to start treating art like a second job. Between devoting time to my fuck ass job, to art as a living, and to writing seriously, I’m in kind of a pick-any-two situation. Before, it was fuck ass job and writing seriously. I want to eventually be focused on art and writing as the pillars of my livelihood—that’s my ultimate dream. And we all know that writing is the longest game of creative and financial delayed gratification ever, lol.

I haven’t really talked about this that much on my other socials, lol, but for whatever reason I woke up this morning and felt like I wanted to give an explanation for my sparse writeblr presence. As I hopefully get to scale back to part-time clinician in the future, I hope to get back into some of my stories and start re-breaking old bones into something new and revitalized.

AN EE WAYS, if you’ve read all that, thank you. Mutuals, if u want my discord, feel free to pm me! I’m not disappearing (I will be on tumblr just as much as I have been, which is to say, daily), but I’m much easier to reach by other means. I’ll be (and have been) posting much more on my art blog @lurrkingly as well! If you’d like to um. Witness Me, I’m most Witnessable there or on my art Twitter (also @lurrkingly). (I also have a spicy art Twitter linked to the main one, which I hope to probably be. Siphoning off of for income one day soon. Praying etc.)

I have a game plan, my partner is an excellent support (I think they like playing manager, LOL), and I think, I really think, that I can do it! 🥰🥰🥰

Ok bye MWAH! I like you guys and I’ll never leave! 🎉 💜

#writeblr #chitchat #heyyyyyyy lol

[angelofthepage]

BATDR Speculation: Who is Bendy?

So the internet is currently freaking out over little Baby Benders (rightfully so, he’s ADORABLE), and we all have a lot of questions about him. Is he as cute and innocent as he seems? Is he going to betray us? Is he the lighter half of an ink demon split into pieces? Does he have a soul? If so, is it someone we know? I have a lot of thoughts on this, and none of them are concrete, but today I want to talk about one of my favorite musings so far: How Joey and Henry might be involved in this. I wanna talk about The Illusion of Living.

https://twitter.com/LaurenSynger/status/1587778374038069249?s=20&t=b-DLbISPVNI584xRm5ALAg

Warning: if you haven’t read the Illusion of Living by Adrienne Kress, HIGHLY recommend it, as there are spoilers ahead. This book is delightful, and it’s not what I expected. When I picked it up, I thought we were getting a narrative about Joey’s life, and we did to an extent. But the real treasure of this book is that it’s a character study of Joey Drew. It gives us so much to think about in terms of who he is as a person. Because he’s Joey, you’d expect him to bend the truth (pun absolutely intended), and there are moments where it feels like some details aren’t entirely true. But there are some scenes that are written in such a way that feel all too earnest, and one of them is the scene in Joey’s apartment: the birth of Bendy.

The way Joey tells it, he’s the one who had the concept for Bendy, then his friend Abby Lambert attempted to draw it, but nothing was looking right. Abby brought Henry on board to help without consulting Joey first. Then they all sat on the floor of Joey’s apartment while Henry sketched out what would become the signature Bendy design (with critiques from Joey along the way). It’s made out to be this magical moment, and it’s believable. What reason would Joey have to lie about this? He may have a lot of feelings about Henry, mostly negative from what we’ve seen in DCTL, but he gave Henry credit here. He didn’t downplay Henry’s importance in all of this, which surprised me, and I like that a lot.

Joey comes off as being so deeply in love with his creation that it doesn’t matter who did what, the fact remains that Bendy is still his in the ways that count the most. He was made with love, dreams, and wonder at his core, Joey’s ideas and writing, Henry’s artistic execution. He belongs to both of them. I get the sense that a lot of people are going to jump into debating whether this little Bendy is somehow made using Henry’s soul or Joey’s. But I’d like to propose this: what if he’s made with both? His creation isn’t credited to a single person, but two, and who better to give Bendy a soul than both of his creators, two halves of a whole?

It gives another layer to why Joey would send Henry into the studio in the first place. Like why Henry? Henry’s just a guy who supposedly worked with Joey as an animator and business partner for one year before vanishing forever, why send him in? Is he a last resort where others failed (maybe Tom was sent in first and couldn’t fix things), or is it because he’s so integral to Bendy’s creation? Surely he has something grand to offer in that regard, by Joey’s logic. Send Henry in, sure, if anyone can stop this twisted version of Bendy, it’s his creator, right? No, this story isn’t one that you can solve by making Henry the protagonist, it’s one that needs both of them. It’s a story that needs Joey to acknowledge a lot of things in order for it to change. That could be why it’s a loop, the story can’t end without Joey playing his part, but he’s too busy blaming everyone else for the trouble he’s caused, not taking responsibility for his actions.

One of the theories I’ve seen that I really love from the first game came from @dreamfisher-nux​ which I’ll link here: https://www.tumblr.com/dreamfisher-nux/184575733862/that-child-at-the-end-might-not-have-been-human?source=share The idea that the child we hear say “tell me another one Uncle Joey” might not be human based on the milk carton texture’s inky handprints gives me a lot to think on. I have to wonder if that child might have been his last attempt to make Bendy. Yes, I know, five fingers is too many, but that’s exactly why I say “attempt,” not success. I mean he has the studio full of his previous employees, souls he’s claimed he owns, and now Henry is in there too. Is it possible this was all a plan to get Henry’s soul to make into his creation? I’ll admit, while I was around for the emergence of the “Henry is a perfect Bendy” theory, I’m not 100% sold on it for canon (though I do love it in fandom works), but an imperfect Bendy, or something close to Allison or Twisted Alice in nature? That I would buy. Henry alone may not be enough to give Joey what he wants. So what if, before the end of his lifetime, Joey gave himself up? Bendy is in part his creation, a part of him, just as Alice is a part of Susie, there is something they give to that character that no one else has. And much like Susie, Joey would do anything for the character he loves. He went to great lengths to try and see it through, sacrificed so much (much of which was never his to sacrifice).

When I first heard Joey’s tape about cheating death itself, I assumed his goal was immortality for the longest time. But TIOL has me thinking that that’s only half the story. You’re never dead if your legacy is still alive, and Bendy is Joey’s legacy. Making Bendy real and innovating beyond what any artist or engineer has done before is at the core of what he wants, to make dreams into reality. And if he’s gone, but Bendy is here and real and perfect? I think, that’s a sacrifice Joey would be willing to make, his dream would be achieved and that’s what matters. Throw on the machine machine one more time, take the child, his child, that was so close and take one more chance, add his piece to the puzzle, his soul to the mix. Become part of your creation. It’s an act of love, “but love requires sacrifice.”

Joey is believed to be dead in 1972, and this is where Arch Gate comes in. They have control of the Bendy brand, they own the rights and assets to it. Nathan was someone that was believed to be Joey’s friend, even though he’s done things a friend wouldn’t do. What does Nathan Arch know of Joey’s marvelous machine, of his dreams? While I don’t know if I buy Nathan as a benevolent character given what he’s said in the books, I do believe he would carry out some of Joey’s final wishes, though maybe not exactly the way Joey would want him to. And handing Bendy over to him, his most precious creation, to be taken care of? Well, that would be an interesting thing, wouldn’t it? You don’t leave your child in the hands of just anyone. It’s as Tom says in TLO, you don’t give up on a miracle.

Or course, take this all with a grain of salt. I think this would be an intriguing story to follow, but that doesn’t necessarily mean I expect it to be canon. Canon or not though, it’s an interesting thought, isn’t it?

#Bendy and the dark revival #batdr #batdr trailer #batdr trailer spoilers #bendy #batim #bendy and the ink machine #bendy theory #joey drew #henry stein #baby benders #tiol #the illustion of living

[starberry-cupcake]

I’ve said this before but it’s fascinating to me how, in my opinion, a big reason why Disney’s Beauty and the Beast (1991) works so well as an updated adaptation is because it swapped the core narrative parallel from Cupid & Psyche (like Villeneuve and Beaumont had) for Pride and Prejudice. 

The wildest part is that I’ve never seen, in any of the books, dvds, interviews, notes or memorabilia I’ve ever collected, anyone from the production mention P&P as a direct reference, not Linda Woolverton, not Brenda Chapman, not Trousdale or Wise, and idk if I haven’t been looking hard enough, if it’s just me thinking this, if they're not aware they did it or if it was all Howard and he passed away before being able to give an interview about it. 

What I mean is, narratively-wise, B&B ditches the narrative structure of Cupid & Psyche that most fairy tales under the category of “animal bridegroom” tend to use and, instead, follows the P&P structure to a T, while filling in the gaps with its own characterization or elements from its predecessors (like Gaston coming from the Cocteau film, which is mentioned as a big inspiration many times).

P&P works with points of inflection for character development, because it’s a character driven novel in which the leads are changed and developed through their interactions, whether directly or indirectly, with each other. 

A Big point of inflection for Elizabeth and Darcy is the moment things reach it’s lowest point of decline: Darcy’s first proposal. In B&B this is mirrored through the West Wing scene. I could draw parallels of both and go into massive detail, but I don’t wanna make this post longer than it is already. 

The second point is the olive branch that starts mending the path and serves as a more honest communication: in P&P it’s Darcy’s letter and in B&B it’s the mutual rescue from the wolves. 

The third is the start of the mending process, which in P&P becomes clear in the Pemberley visit and in B&B happens through song, mostly in Something There and Beauty and the Beast. Again, could talk in length about this, but I’ll refrain.

The fourth is the separation, which in P&P happens through Lydia running away with Whickham and in B&B is because Maurice is lost in the woods. In P&P, Darcy finds Lydia and Whickham and pays in secret to save the Bennet’s name for Elizabeth’s sake and in B&B the Beast tells Belle to leave the castle, not letting her know that her leaving would condemn him to remain as a Beast forever. 

This is a very important point of comparison to me because this moment, the moment in which Beauty leaves the castle, is the key point in common from both fairy tales to Cupid & Psyche. 

Like in other fairy tales inspired by it (d’Aulnoy’s Green Serpent, for example), the leading lady breaks her promise and has to rescue the man she condemns and loves. The Beast asks her to come back, she doesn’t (for similar yet distinctly different reasons in either version) and finds him on his death bed upon finally returning, so she saves him. 

In 1991′s B&B though, there is no promise to break, there are no conditions for Belle, she’s free to go and the Beast does not expect her to come back at all. This removes any blame from Belle, which she had in the other versions, while still giving her the agency to save the Beast at the end, something that she does, in this version, without knowing that she could. 

The saving isn’t an attempt to mend a wrong she did but something that happens unknowingly, she was never aware of the conditions of the curse or her power in all of it, nor did the Beast expect her to love him back. Both Belle and the Beast think he’s dying. He’s happy to see her one last time, she’s sad to lose him. And then, she saves him. 

This “no conditions” moment erases the promise and relates the Beast more to Darcy’s secret actions, not meant to win Elizabeth over but because he cares for her truly; and Belle’s feelings are her own, not influenced by any sense of guilt or responsibility, much like Elizabeth’s. 

The fifth is the ultimate conflict, which is meant to separate but has the opposite effect and brings them together. In P&P, it’s Catherine De Bourg's visit to threaten Elizabeth and in B&B is Gaston’s raid to the castle to kill the Beast. 

The sixth and final is the declaration of true feelings or, more precisely, the leading lady’s moment to accept hers, given that Darcy claims his feelings have not changed and the Beast has already declared his love to the audience’s eyes. 

So, what I find most fascinating (aside from the fact that I love both stories) is how in the 1700s, there was a premise to follow in a myth and in the 1990s the premise to follow became (unknowingly? knowingly? coincidentally?) an 1800s novel, which became as much of a narrative footprint as myths of old. We keep telling stories that carry something of other stories we were nurtured by and I think that’s a really cool aspect of storytelling. 

#beauty and the beast #pride and prejudice #beauty and the beast 1991 #fairy tales #luly rambles #long post #as an added note #I think this is why my aro ass can love these stories #because it's not really about romance #but about character development

[mozart-the-meerkitten]

Hello there! I have been a fan of the Wingfeather saga series for 3 years, (and the animated series since they where aired on YouTube) and I found your fanfics on Ao3 about a year and a half ago. I just wanted to tell you that I think you are an amazing writer, and a really great Wingfeather fan :)

One thing I was wondering, what exactly was it that made Artham your favorite character? For me, it probably would've been his dynamic. Or maybe the way he was written. I'm honestly not sure lol

Hi and first of all THANK YOU SO MUCH. I’m so happy to hear you like my stories and think I’m a good Wingfeather fan. Just, just trust me when I say that means a lot to me, I always feel like I'm not doing enough, so thank you <3

Okay so I’ve been ruminating on this question for a while, because it deserves a good answer and I love my boy a lot. (also I just really appreciated the nice comments and wanted to keep staring at the ask for a while) I am going to attempt to answer it tonight though!

So, first, Artham is just very much the kind of character I like. Tragic backstory? mentally ill? loyal to an absolute fault? loves children? kind? incredible fighter? He’s all of these things and many more and these are traits I love a lot in characters.

Second, Andrew writes him really, really well. He feels so human and so real, like he’s an actual person I could be friends with (and hug). His struggles remind me of my own- he gets better and then slides backwards, he tries so hard to help the people he cares about but doesn’t always know how to do that. He wants so badly to be with his family and to be loved but doesn’t feel worthy of any of that. I love, love, LOVE that he doesn’t lose his mental illness after his transformation. I was so scared that it was just gonna disappear in book three AND THEN IT DIDN’T and I was so happy, because that’s something that happens a lot with characters in media these days- their trauma/mental illness just magically disappears and that’s not how real life works! But Artham doesn’t have that happen even though magic is involved and I love that.

Related to that second point is that I find him both relatable and encouraging. I relate to his struggles with anxiety, depression, trying to cope with past mistakes, blaming myself for things I can’t control or fix… and I find it comforting that the books show that as Sara puts it, “even the noblest soul can be broken”. We are all broken, we have all made mistakes and fallen, even those of us with noble hearts and the best of intentions, and we can come out of that. We can go on living and still find love and kindness and support from people. It’s both solidarity and a reminder that there’s some good in the world, and it’s worth fighting for.

Idk, I just draw a lot of hope from Artham and what happened to him- which sounds silly because he’s a fictional character, but human beings often process real life experiences through stories so- I keep repeating this phrase to myself, it’s kind of become my mantra, “don’t give up before you get your wings”. Because, in book 2, Artham is ready to give up, he DOES give up, and it is at that very moment that he sees Tink and all of a sudden he has a reason to live again and he FIGHTS for it, and it turns out that he was meant to be there all along to save Tink AND to be transformed and have his mind restored. And I try to remember that because I’m going through a lot of crap and I feel like giving up a lot, but remembering that maybe I’m right where I need to be, maybe if I just keep holding on a little longer I’ll get my wings- that something good will come from this- and that helps.

So, uh, yeah. I could probably go on but I think that covers most of it.

TLDR: Artham is a character I love a lot because I relate to him and I love the kind of character he is (loyal, kind, brave, and somehow so, so soft despite everything). I’m drawing a lot of hope from this fictional character and his story. He is the best boy <3

#the wingfeather saga #the wingfeather saga tv show #peet the sockman #artham p wingfeather #thanks for the ask! #this got long and deep #if you read this whole thing then thank you for listening to me ramble :) #probably more of an answer than you were looking for but once I get started talking about artham I don't stop easily #he's one of my absolute top favorite characters ever #he's just below lucy pevensie and sam gamgee #with like zuko and rei from yukikaze #he is very very high on my list #loving artham wingfeather is a thing that can be so personal #(also just to clarify I don't mean 'love' in a romantic way I am hardly ever romantically attracted to anyone #but I do really passionately love characters) #ANYWAY #thank you again! #I love to talk about my favorite characters ask about them any time

[neatfrog]

-Notes-

-occasional 18+ content

-queer faggot

-current things that I can’t shut the fuck up about: fallout (tv show & games), baldur’s gate 3, hazbin hotel/helluva boss (mostly stolitz & huskerdust, + some alastor)

-About-

-you can call me kitchie (pronounced like ‘kicsi’ in Hungarian - it’s a joke bc kicsi means small and I’m 4’11”)

-30 years old 🥳

-married

-I enjoy cats and languages

-I write and draw (if the brain worms let me)

-I’m autistic and have adhd so if I do something weird pls just blame it on that

-I’m not kidding when I say I’m obsessed with languages, it’s my special interest since I was like 7

-fluent: english and french ; advanced: hungarian

-also OK: Norwegian, Spanish, German, Japanese, Chinese (Mandarin)

-can’t speak/write but can read: Brazilian Portuguese, Dutch, Danish, Swedish, Finnish (sorta)

.

.

The rest is just my likes and shit, no obligation to read

-LIKES-

video games

favs: Fallout, Baldur’s Gate 3, The Outer Worlds, Rule of Rose, Clocktower, ReMothered, Visage, The Evil Within, Resident Evil, the Dark Pictures series - most survival horror/horror in general.

I’ll admit that I often don’t have the patience for the horror games where you have to be all sneaky and try to find things & escape while constantly being chased, but I still really love those kinds of games and wish I had the patience to play them, so I’ll usually just watch a let’s play

I’m also a slut for some Mario Party, and my adhd ass can sit and play shit like Powerwash Simulator or House Flipper for hours

books/comics

horror/thriller/mystery mostly, but if it sounds interesting I’ll read whatever. we have like four shelves of Stephen King books

favs: The Walking Dead, Venom, GoT, A Series of Unfortunate Events, The Hunger Games

I still read manga occasionally (FMA will always be my #1 favorite)

movies

horror (any kind), foreign films, indie, comedy - again, if it sounds interesting and I’m in the mood then anything is cool. if you like horror and haven’t watched any Asian horror films, you definitely should do that

series/franchises that could be releasing their 20-quillionth remake/sequel and I would still be going to see it: saw, the purge, friday the 13th, scream, nightmare on elm st, VHS, Killjoy, Terrifier

ok I’d probably watch any Hunger Games movie too tbh

and literally anything ari aster does, I know that man’s some kinda fucked up but damn does he make some Movies

also Tubi has some really awesome shit on there, definitely worth checking out

tv shows

favs: Fallout, The Walking Dead/FTWD, Hazbin Hotel/Helluva Boss, Resident Alien, Hannibal, Ted Lasso, The Boys, Disenchantment, Paradise PD/Farzar, WWDITS, GoT (minus s8), Supernatural (stopped around s14 and then they did That Thing at the end so it’s more of an old fav now)

I love Scandinavian crime thrillers/dramas 🤣

when starting a series it’s honestly whatever my spouse and I decide we feel like watching at the time. I usually prefer comedy or horror, but we’ve been known to watch other things

I’ll admit I’m also a sucker for crime shows like CSI, I had season 3 on dvd as a kid and rewatched it all the time. I used to watch it and Criminal Minds with my parents so it’s kind of nostalgic cause it’s like one of the few things we all did together

(I used to be into anime but I haven’t really been feeling it for a while. My first anime was InuYasha (still holds a special place in my ❤️). My all-time favorite is Fullmetal Alchemist, and I enjoyed Death Note and JJBA a feral normal amount. Black Butler was also 👌🏻 and I still need to finish the manga)

music

90% of the music I listen to isn’t in English. I don’t really need to understand the lyrics, I just like how it sounds. Like Finnish music is so catchy I can’t explain it but the way it rolls off the tongue is so nice. It does end up being funny sometimes though when you find out you’ve been bopping it to a song that’s repeatedly calling someone’s mom a whore

Most Listened: Antti Tuisku, Apulanta, Evelina, Szakács Gergő, ByeAlex, Intim Torna Illegál, Leander Kills, Dubioza, KYO, Stromae - etc (Linkin Park is still an all-time favorite as far as American music goes)

I admit I’ve been obsessed with the hazbin hotel soundtrack lately

ok I won’t say no to the occasional k-pop or j-rock song (I used to be Obsessed lol)

that said I’ll listen to literally anything if it sounds good (nice beats make brain go brrr). only genre I actively dislike is post-9/11 country music

-DISLIKES-

spiders (i’m sorry lil dudes ur rly cool y’all just scare me), making phone calls

[sta7z]

“Meanie!” Nancy x Little!Reader (featuring the fruity four)

Warnings ig?: Y/N being a menace to society. Nancy being strict. Fruity four 🤩🤩 mentions of time out and spankings. Uhhh homosexuals.

🦋:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ Butterfly :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ🦋

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧ ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧ .・゜゜・　　・゜゜・． ｡･ﾟﾟ･　　 ･ﾟﾟ･｡. Meanie >:[.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･

It was just You, Robin, and Eddie. The three of you were watching the Care Bears, Eddie fell asleep and Robin was halfway passed out. You decided to grab the remote and change the channel. Killer Klowns From Outer Space was on! Yes! Nancy and Steve both agreed on no horror movies when you’re little, but you had seen this one before. You knew it was nothing but animatronics and special effects.

You continued watching the movie, in absolute awe and terror. You watched as one of the clowns put on a puppet show, and then… ZAP! You squealed as the man was wrapped in a cocoon of cotton candy. Eddie and Robin stayed fast asleep on the couch. You decided you wanted to make a drawing, you grabbed your crayons and started rummaging around for paper. Until the idea struck you! There was this boring wall in the corner, in your least favorite color, a nice drawing would look great there!

The movie continued on as you scribbled away on your newly found canvas. You heard keys jingling in the door, you hurried up and put your stuffed animals, that were once sprawled along the floor, lined up the against the wall. Nancy walked in along with Steve. “Hey baby!! Can you come help us put up the-“ The high pitched laughter of the Killer Klowns was really really loud. You rushed to change the channel but by then Nancy was behind you. Crossing her arms and tapping her foot. “What is this?” Nancy asked, her tone stern. “I- I um. It’s just… Eddie an Robin said I could wach its!” You whined pointing at the two who were somehow still asleep.

Nancy shook her head. “Butterfly, just tell the truth and you’ll be in a lot less trouble.” You looked down at your feet and shrugged. Steve came into the room and huffed, “Thanks soooo much for the help with the groceries guys, so much teamwork!” He sat down next to Eddie and gave him a gentle kiss on the head. He tilted his head at my anxious expression “what’s the matter little bear?” Nancy turned to him and said “Someone here is watching a horror movie, which is against the rules, and is trying to blame the sleeping beauties.” Steve took a deep breath and ran his hand through his hair, “Teddy Bear, tell the truth. I doubt either of us wants to deal with Nancy’s fussing all day long.”

You opened your mouth to explain until Nancy turned her head to the pile of stuffed animals in front of the wall. And your crayons stuffed into the box sitting on the floor beside them. “W-wait d-don’t wook! Mama don’t wook!” You tugged on her sleeve. Nancy sighed and moved the stuffed animals out of the way, she saw your drawing and took a deep breath. “Y/N,” god. Your name. Shivers went down your spine. “You’re going to clean all of this up do you understand me? And if it doesn’t scrub out you’re repainting the entire wall” Tears started welling up in your eyes “Nuh,uh I don’t want any of that, you know not to draw on the walls. Me and Steve just got you new coloring books and sketchbooks. We told you we would before we went to the store!” Nancy scolded. You looked down at the ground and mumbled a “Yes mama”.

Nancy went upstairs, as Steve scolded Eddie and Robin for falling asleep while watching you and filled them in on what happened. “Jeez, she really wouldn’t make them paint the whole wall… right?” Robin murmured. “With how upset she is, probably.” Eddie interjected. “Shouldn’t we go help? I feel kinda bad… we were supposed to be watching her.” Robin said getting up, Steve pushed her back down and said “I want too aswell but you know how serious Nancy is about punishments-“ The three shuddered, “yeah-“

You finished wiping away the rest of the crayon marks off the wall “M-mommy I done.” Steve came over the inspect the wall. “Good job teddy bear! I’ll go get mama okay?” You hesitated for a moment then nodded. Nancy walked over to you and gave you a big hug, “you know I love you right?” You nodded. “I still need to punish you, you know that Butterfly.” “B-but I cweened up!” Nancy gave you a loving look “I know but not only did you watch a big girl movie without permission you also lied about it. Twice.”

“You’re lucky you were able to get your drawing off the wall, if not you’d be over my lap right now.” Robin chuckled from the side of the room, earning a ‘You’re next’ look from Nancy. “Now as for your punishment, you’re going to write ‘I will follow the rules’ and ‘I will not lie’ on a peice of paper 20 times each.” You stomped your foot and whined “No mama! Not lines! I learned my wesson, I be good!” Nancy tilted her head and cupped your cheeks. “I know butterfly, but I, well, Steve has been letting you off the hook a lot lately. So you do your lines and no more TV for a week.” You pouted and mumbled “you’re mean…” under your breath. “Do you want a time out too?” Shocked that Nancy heard you, you uttered an apology and grabbed your pencil and paper to start writing.

A/N WHY WAS THIS SO LONG???? I wrote this while procrastinating on homework so there are probs so many Grammatical errors-

#nancy wheeler #nancy x little reader #fruity four #mom steve #isaiah’s idiocy #fruity 4 #nancy x reader #stranger things x reader #Age re

[clockworkowl]

Ace x Family: Mission P1: part 2-1: the trial begins

When last we paused Miles had just learned that his dramatic Matlock impression earned him the position of Defense counsel for the very real class trial, because this elite school feels it’s perfectly reasonable for a grade-schooler’s burden to consist of saving their classmates from expulsion. (Sorry no accessibility text descriptions yet, but whenever I have enough new pages to do the update to A03 they will be there)

~Reminder: These follow the standard manga format with right to left reading direction instead of the American comic book left to right

Apparently it’s been just shy of a year since I posted the any pages of this so now I feel a little guilty and I shall never grouse at half abandoned works on A03 again. I’m not sure what is more to blame: that all of my brain cells have devoted themselves to considering the enigma that is Majima Goro and his slightly smirking soul mate; that I chose to essentially do a case fic trial with the kids which means so much dialogue heavy exchanges to try to make interesting and no fun Barok & Ryuu spy/assassin fun; or that it’s just slow going because the drawing part has never been my strong suit because I get all hung up on how I’m not consistent and have to make little line drawing templates for myself to reuse or use as a guide to make anyone come out vaguely correct unless I want to spend a billion years (and I still want to spend a billion years because I focus on all the stuff that’s not quite right) but the whole reason I kind of talked myself into doing this as a manga instead of just wrangling it into prose (well, let’s be honest, prose wasn’t going to happen probably because I can’t seem to be arsed to write prose anymore, but at least into a written form, most likely just resembling a script) was that I wanted to practice drawing and manga layouts in hopes of getting me to actually work on Teddy Roosevelt’s A Team (which is the thing I started and have giant full arcs of plotting and scripting done for that’s been just sitting for like 13 years now, and still haven’t come up with an actual title for just the stupid working title. I’m hopeless.) My downfall it seems was cross publishing to A03 with the full accessibility captions like a proper thing people might look at instead of into the void of tumblr and then just being pleased whenever I’d get the odd random like. So maybe I’ll just randomly post every time I finish a few pages and only care for A03 when I happen to hit enough done ones to be a big enough update. I’m still determined to finish the episode.

One of these days I’m going to figure Gumshoe out, since I had no reference material for what he should look like young I figured the one out, but it feels like every time I need to have him in a different angle and try to use Gumshoe sprite facial expressions for reference I end up too close to adult facial structure. How did I ever make it through art school in an animation track and yet feel so devoid of basic drawing skills?

#ace attorney spy x family au #ace attorney #no spoilers in this one original story in the au #phoenix wright #miles edgeworth #franziska von karma #dick gumshoe #class trial #aa fanart #aa fanfic #Checkov’s backpack mice #oh look I’m not dead I will finish this arc if it kills me #but I’d better get cracking because Gaiden comes out in November #and then I’ll surely be sucked into Spy Kiryu #hmm maybe I can find a way to have Kiryu and Majima show up in the grownups side of this AU and randomly combine 3 universes

[amorevolousfaith]

Chapter 4: Truths Revealed

Pairing: Pero Tovar X Reader

Genre: +18 (MINORS BEGONE)

Word Count: 1.1K

Warnings: Sexual themes, family trauma, sexist themes, mentions of murder

Summary: It started off no different than any other traveler looking for boarding. But as time passed bonds grew, then as secrets were revealed, it become apparent the bonds might not hold.  

I let out a small sigh as I wander down the dark halls of the mansion, everyone has long since gone to sleep. Tovar did not show up to my room like I prompted, perhaps I really did scare him off. With my thoughts wildly stirring in my head I can’t bring myself to sleep. Knowing Tovar will be leaving soon and his reasoning behind it also plaguing me beyond the mind, it makes me squeamish and adds a heavy weight to my chest. His words are ringing about in my head and weighing on my body despite how hard I find myself trying to fight them.

I travel to the library, the only place I can find any sense of peace. My egotistical father rarely came in here, he raved about his extensive collection to his friends and fellow lords but he’s never so much as touched one of these books. Finding the few spare candles I keep in the room I snap my fingers over the wick, lighting them up to illuminate the room.

However a strangled noise draws my eyes away from them, turning I find Tovar frozen in place. A stunned expression smearing across his face, “Tovar.” I whisper hushly. My voice breaks the man from his shock and quickly turns to leave but I flick my wrist, bringing the man further into the room before using another flick to close and lock the doors.

“You lie!” The man seethes, accent rolling aggressively as he bares his teeth at me. “You are a witch! You worship the devil!” He accuses, I let out an audible scoff. “I do no such thing!” I seethe back, “Can you really blame me Tovar? I’d be burned at the stake for my magic and all I want to do is live peacefully. I have done nothing to harm someone with my gifts, neither has my sisters!” I hiss glaring at him. Tovar glares at me but I can hear the wheels turning in his head, “The villagers know, is that why they call you witches?” He grunts. I let out a huff, “No. We are merely labeled that because they see us as harlots with money we supposedly have no right to.” I scoff waving my hand to brush him off.

I cross the room and sink down into my chair, I rub at my head, already feeling a headache forming. “Then who do you worship then?” He questions sharply, I look up from my lap over to him. His brown eyes guarded but he looks at me expectantly. “Myself.” I answer simply, I almost laugh at his confused face, “Our magic is nothing but harnessed energy. The garden A’mee tends to constantly, the animals Yelia insists on raising, the sun, moon, and stars Elia is guided by, and the sex Mary Anne is always having. Our magic is everything.” I whisper with a small smile.

Tovar sits stunned for the second time today, “Then what is you draw from?” He questions skeptically. “Everything.” I chime and Tovar shoots me an annoyed look. “Everything that alludes energy, plants, animals, moon, sun, stars, people.” I list out, “But like my sisters I am most drawn to a specific source, and that would be objects, things of careful craftsmanship.” I specify with a small giggle. “Like books.” He realizes, “Or swords.” I tease, “Occasionally I’ll be drawn to the craftsmen themselves. One especially skilled in their craft.” I hint with a smirk. Realization dawns on Tovar.

“So that is why you came on to me.” He grunts with an eye roll, but I can sense the small pinch of hurt stirring in him. “No, it was why I was drawn to you. Liking you was completely on my own accord.” I muse leaning back on my chair. Tovar quirks his eyebrow at me in interest.

“Then I can understand why you are attracted to me. But what is your sister’s fascination with William?” He grunts, I let out a long sigh. “My sister is guided by the sun, moon, and stars. She summons their guidance through tarot cards and in one of her earlier readings they predicted men would be set on our path. One of the sun, we assume that is William and one of the moon, which we assume is you. They would bless us, the stars, and bring us ever lasting fortune.” I recall with a soft sigh.

“My sister A’mee was cautious of the reading, she knows Elia’s readings are just one of the many roads to our fate. She was weary of you when you came to our home and told me to be cautious of you.” I giggle recalling her words of warning, “But I sensed how powerful you were, and I itched to find out why. I’m sure you can imagine my utter thrill when I found out you were a swords smith, a very talented one at that.” I giggle, tossing my hands out expressing my amusement.

“Your sister was right to tell you to be weary of me.” He grunts with a glare, I can tell his look is only half hearted. “Tovar.” I whisper softly, “I’m sure I can only imagine how betrayed you feel with us and I’m sure you now have every intention to leave us. We won’t stop you, but I beg of you not to tell anyone.” I whisper weakly, letting my hands fall to my lap and flex against each other nervously. I watch Tovar scoff and roll his eyes, “I am many things, but I am not a rat.” He grunts. A small smile flashes across my lips.

“Is there anything… Anything I can do to make amends before you leave us?” I question meekly, my heart aching at the thought of him leaving and never coming back. Tovar stood from his place where I had thrown him to the floor in my hurry to stop him from fleeing, “I wish to retire to my bed.” He grunts. I only nodded my head mutely and stood from my chair.

Crossing the room I felt my heart sink when he took an extra step away as I passed him. I bite my lip and kept my head down to keep the tears at bay as I unlocked the doors to the library. Silently we traveled down the dark halls of the manor together, I stop in front of his door and waited for him to enter but he only stood a few steps away from me unmoving.

My heart continues to ache when I realize he won’t even come near me anymore. Sucking down a sob I move several steps away from the door before watching him enter the room. “Good—” But I’m unable to finish as his door prompt closes with a thud, it’s then I finally let the tears fall. Crying silently as I make my way to my own room to lick the wounds of my heart break.

<---- Prev // Masterlist // Next ---->

#pero tovar fanfiction #pero tovar fanfic #pero tovar x you #pero tovar x y/n #pero tovar x reader #pero tovar #tovar fanfic #tovar fanfiction #tovar x reader #tovar x y/n #tovar x you

[cinnamonkittenz]

Welcome back to me redrawing my ninjago fan art from when I was 13

#this is the oldest one I could find #original kai looks like he’s about to square dance #i don’t know what the fuck is going on with their heads or their necks #I’ll blame it on that one ‚how to draw anime‘ book #that shit had me stuck with really bad anatomy and weird anime eyes for like 3 years #also another case of no diversity and no flavour #shout out to my elementary school crush who was clearly the inspiration for my design of cole #i still can’t draw feet lmao #ninjago #cole brookstone #kai smith #my art

[linghxr]

Characters That Look TOO Similar (相似到难以分辨的汉字)

I’ve seen a lot of posts floating around in the Chinese teaching/learning scene about similar characters like 己 & 已 and 未 & 末. But these posts never seem to include the characters that I have the most difficulty with! So I made my own :)

Note: Some of these characters don’t look similar if you use traditional characters, but I primarily use simplified.

怒 nù - anger / fury / flourishing / vigorous 恕 shù - to forgive This is an example of one-way confusion. I learned 恕 as part of the phrase 恕我直言, but now, whenever I see 恕 I think it’s 怒 at first. But never the other way around.

拨 bō - to push aside with the hand, foot, a stick etc / to dial / to allocate / to set aside (money) / to poke (the fire) / to pluck (a string instrument) / to turn round / classifier: group, batch  拔 bá - to pull up / to pull out / to draw out by suction / to select / to pick / to stand out (above level) / to surpass / to seize  In class once I wrote what I thought was 拔 on the board...it was 拨. I was very embarrassed. These two always trip me up! They are by far my least favorite duo on this list.

苛 kē - severe / exacting  苟 gǒu - if / supposing / careless / negligent / temporarily / surname Gou For some reason I am most embarrassed about confusing these two. I think it’s because when I look closely and carefully, they don’t seem that similar. But if I am not looking closely and carefully, they cause confusion.

茶 chá - tea / tea plant 荼 tú - thistle / common sowthistle (Sonchus oleraceus) / bitter (taste) / cruel / flowering grass in profusion  I saw a chengyu with 荼 (如火如荼) and totally thought it was 茶. I was so shocked when I realized otherwise! I guess the chengyu wouldn’t make much sense with 茶...oh well.

竟 jìng - unexpectedly / actually / to go so far as to / indeed  竞 jìng - to compete / to contend / to struggle  On the bright side, since these two characters are pronounced exactly the same, at least you don’t really have to worry about that aspect. The big issue would just be writing the wrong one.

丰 fēng - abundant / plentiful / fertile / plump / great / surname Feng 韦 wéi - soft leather / surname Wei These characters are both last names, so watch out. You wouldn’t want to misread 韦礼安 as 丰礼安 or something.

暧 ài - (of daylight) dim / obscure / clandestine / dubious  暖 nuǎn - warm / to warm  These two really give me a headache. I need my glasses to tell them apart! They look a bit more distinct in traditional, but I still managed to think 暧/曖 by 孙盛希 was called 暖 for a solid month or so.

呜 wū - (onom.) for humming or whimpering  鸣 míng - to cry (of birds, animals and insects) / to make a sound / to voice (one's gratitude, grievance etc)  I don’t really have an issue with 鸟 and 乌, but for some reason 鸣 and 呜 trip me up. I might need my glasses for them too haha.

妹 mèi - younger sister  姝 shū - pretty woman  I’ve seen both these characters in names. Except I thought 姝 was 妹. I blame 张惠妹! I think for the rest of my life I’ll be paranoid about saying someone’s name incorrectly due to these two.

廷 tíng - palace courtyard 延 yán - to prolong / to extend / to delay / surname Yan I don’t actually know any words with 廷, but it can be used in names. In my experience, it’s especially common in Taiwan. But I have also seen 延 in names, so sometimes I have do a double take.

Honorable mention: 昼/晝 zhòu - daytime  画/畫 huà - to draw / picture / painting 书/書 shū - book / letter / document / to write Whenever I read something in traditional Chinese, these triplets are the bane of my existence. I’ve given up on trying to distinguish them and just guess from context instead. People use use traditional, how do you do it?

#nerdy language stuff #hanzi #chinese characters #chinese #mandarin #mandarin chinese #chinese language #langblr #studyblr #language #languages #language study #language stuff #language learning #languageblr #language blog #chinese langblr #chinese studyblr #mandarin langblr #mandarin studyblr #foreign languages #learn chinese #study chinese #learning chinese #studying chinese #learn mandarin #study mandarin #learning mandarin #studying mandarin #zhongwen

[erodasfishtacos]

harry adores yn with his entire being and i can tell that she loves him just as much but the poor thing is just so scared, and by what you have showed us she has a fair reason to have struggles

Through Hell and Back

warnings: cheating, mentions of domestic violence, this could just be overall triggering if you have experienced trauma or family struggles.

this is a very important blurb to understand dynamic and history of the characters.

PLEASE let me know your thoughts.

—

Harry’s out at a bachelor party for his friend, Jack, at a noisy bar downtown where there is a mechanical bull and half-naked waitresses.

His phone rings at two-thirty in the morning, he already knows who it is and why she’s calling him so late.

He steps outside the noisy bar, “Hi puppy, y’alright?”

Harry already knew she wasn’t.

Her voice is shaky, “Er, are you still out at the bachelor party?”

If he says yes, she’ll just try to say have fun and was just calling to check in - a lie because she felt like such an inconvenience at all times.

“No, just got home,” He lied smoothly, he could hear her trying to hide a sniffle - she must have had a bad dream.

Every since she started trauma therapy, they’d been getting worse, as she worked through her struggles with a therapist.

—

“I-I don’t want to g-go in,” YN whimpers as she sits in Harry’s passenger side outside the clinic, “I can’t talk about it.”

“Baby, you need to do this. You need to talk to someone who’s trained to help you, okay? You promised you’d try it f’me,” He hums, rubbing a thumb over her wet cheekbone.

She shakes her head stubbornly, “It’s all going to come back.”

“Yes, it will. Because you didn’t work through it, you repressed it. There is a difference, okay?” Harry’s heart feels like it’s being ripped in two as YN looks like a caged animal.

YN squeezes Harry’s hand so hard it hurts but he doesn’t mind, he can feel her fear being shared through the rough touch.

She wipes her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater, “Please, H. I don’t want to remember.”

He sighs softly, “I would never force you to do something you don’t want to do. If you really want to leave, we can.”

YN searches his eyes, sees his sadness and she knows she has to push through because she loves him so much, “Will you walk me in?”

“Of course, s’fucking proud of you. My strong girl,” Harry praises, kissing the top of her head, and shutting off the car.

He walks her in, watches her as she hesitantly goes back in with her new therapist, and sits in the waiting room for the hour and a half until she comes out.

He does that every week without miss.

Drives her, walks her in, sits in the waiting room, and then drives her home.

She doesn’t usually talk much after the sessions, her eyes swollen and puffy which is a telltale sign she cried during the appointment.

Harry holds her hand on the ride home, sometimes draws her a bath or tucks her in for a nap under his covers.

One day, after therapy, they crawled into his bed together. She hadn’t said one word since she walked out of the office but she looks tiredly at Harry.

“Why?”

Harry frowns, “Why what?”

She hides her face into the fluffy pillow, words mumbled, “Why do you want me? I’m so broken.”

“Hey,” Harry responds loudly, pulling her up and giving her a serious look, “You are not broken. Even if you were, I’d love every broken piece, okay? I want you because I’m so in love with you it doesn’t make sense.”

YN shakes her head, “I don’t deserve you. You-you have to drive me to therapy every week, leave work early, have to make it up the next day.”

And well, his heart breaks a little because she truly believes that.

Harry grips her jaw, gently, “If you need to go to therapy for the rest of your life, I’ll drive you until I’m ninety. I’ll drive you five days a week if you need it.”

He continues,“I don’t deserve you, sweet girl. Strongest, bravest, most resilient person I’ve ever met. You are my soulmate and I believe that wholeheartedly.”

“I want to nap now,” She whispers, crawling back into her shell where she’s safe from the world, from facing her fears.

Harry just stares at her, the girl he’s had a crush on since fourth grade, the girl he’d been in love with since ninth.

When she felt broken, well so did he.

—

“Mum, I want to do more for her,” Harry cries to his mother one night at dinner after school.

“I know you do, Harry. There is only so much you can do. She has parents tha-“

“Those aren’t parents, mum! You know that!” He shouts angrily, “I need to do more for her. Help her!”

Anne looks at him with a soft, understanding expression, “You’re doing all you can, Harry.”

—

He was still doing all he can.

“I wa-was wondering if you wanted to come over and watch a movie?” YN acts casual despite the tremor but he won’t call her on it - on the phone at least.

“I’d love to pup, I’ll be over on a tick,” already walking away from the busy bar.

Harry can hear the relief in her voice when she says, “Okay, I’ll see you soon.”

When he uses his key to open the door, she sat on her couch with all the lights in the house on, not one off.

“Oh, pet,” Harry murmurs, all the blinds were drawn shut and he knew she’d already triple checked that the windows were locked - despite the state of the art security system he had installed for her.

“Um, so are we feeling a scary movie or romcom?” She ignores his words, picking up the remote, and pulling up Netflix.

He flicks a couple of the bright lights off until it’s normal dim and he sits next to her on the couch, taking the remote and turning off the television.

“Talk t’me,” Harry coaxes, unraveling her from the heavy weighted blanket, and tugging her into his chest.

“M’fine,” YN lies on a choked whimper.

“Y’safe, you know I’d never let anythin’ happen to you . Please puppy, tell me,” He’s not to manly to beg for her to open up.

He allows her to nuzzle her face into his neck, “He cam-came back an-and he -,” her voice drops, “broke in here and I wo-woke up as he was opening my door.”

Harry holds her for a very long time that night.

-

With Harry and her therapist’s constant encouragement she’d been able to be more open and up front with Harry - which made him feel unexaplainably proud of her.

Anna almost fucked everything up, all the hard work without even realizing it.

It was nearly three in the morning this time.

Harry was stuck at Anna’s house with her and her friends for a movie night.

He’d gotten up to go to the bathroom when his phone rings.

Anna sees who it is and picks it up, “What do you want? Harry’s busy and doesn’t have time for you right now. You know it’s not all about you, right?”

Then she hangs up, all of her and her friends giggling at how she just treated YN.

Harry is unaware of the call for a few minutes when he gets back until he gets a text from YN.

I’m sorry I bothered you. I am okay. Have fun tonight x

He scrolls through his phone in confusion until he sees the call, he glares over at Anna, “Did you answer my phone?”

She has a cocky look on her face, “Yeah, I told YN that the world doesn’t revolve around her and to leave us alone.”

All the friends are giggling - but that comes to an abrupt halt when Harry stands up, knocking over the little table of drinks with his anger, “Where the fuck did you get the idea that you could touch my phone, let alone answer it?”

All of them are quiet.

He scoffs, “Now all you annoying prats are going shut up? Get the fuck out of my way,” he orders to Anna who’s pouting.

“C’mon, it was a joke. Don’t leave,” She whines, grabbing at Harry’s arm which he instantly rips out of her grip.

“Don’t touch me. I can’t fuckin’ stand you,” He tells her honestly before storming out of her house without a look back at her teary face.

-

When he arrives at YN’s house, a book is automatically been hurled at the front door when he opens it, then another.

“Hey, puppy, stop tha’. S’just me, you’re okay. S’just me,” He coos, rearming the security system to make her feel better.

She is only in one of his shirts with the company logo on it and soft cotton boy shorts, hair frizzy atop her head.

“Y’have another nightmare?” Harry asks softly, all the lights were on again, every single one.

YN clenches her jaw, “No.”

He hardens his expression too, “I was in the bathroom when she answered that call. As soon as I found out, I came over here. Don’t be sour with me.”

“I didn’t have a nightmare.”

“I know y’bloody lying because your legs are still tremblin’. Now cut the bullshit and talk t’me, we’re not going backwards,” Harry tells her seriously, with all firmness he can muster.

“I love you.”

It takes him aback. YN told him how much she adored him but it was something that didn’t come easy for her.

To hear it flat out, well….he nearly almost melted on the floor into a pile of goop.

“I love you too, puppy.”

She takes a deep breathe, “It’s been that same nightmare, but it’s not really a nightmare? It’s a flashback to…”

YN swallows before she continues, “Remember when….when I ran from my parent’s house to yours and my dad came and found me…”

Harry doesn’t want to remember but he does.

—-

“Harry, he-he just pulled up,” YN cries, peeking out his window, “I don’t want to go home.”

“Harry, he’s screaming at your mum. I have to go.”

“Harry, I have to go before he does something stupid. I’ll be okay, I promise.”

“Harry, don’t cry. I’ll be fine, he’s just really upset. I’ll just deal with it and it will be over before we know it, okay?”

——

“I remember,” He wavers like he normally doesn’t, feeling like a helpless sixteen year old again.

It was moments like this were no matter how hard he wanted to be angry or scream at her for making their relationship so difficult, that he couldn’t be.

How could he blame her for her commitment issues?

Why she struggles to trust?

Why she never feels good enough?

“I’m sorry to bring that up-“

“Do not apologize,” Harry interrupts, “I want to know everything you experience or feel no matter how traumatic or upsetting.”

YN despite her own struggles, when she heard Harry say things like that…well she knew full heartedly that he loves her with no conditions.

She knew this was so hard on him, “I am so in love with you, H.”

His eyes automatically soften and he reacts like he’s being praised. His face lights up without him even knowing it does.

“I’ve been in love with you since I was sixteen, thank you for being my person. I appreciate everything you do for me.”

It was something she had been also working on in therapy, expressing gratitude- specifically to Harry.

And it works because Harry actually starts tearing up, eyes watering with emotion, “I love you. I’d walk through hell and back for you.”

He would and he has.

#harry styles #harry styles writing #update #harry styles masterlist #harry styles fic rec #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles x y/n #Harry styles angst #cheating!harry blurb #cheating!harry #cheating!harry masterlist

[c-e-d-dreamer]

Happy Oct. 1 and the start of Halloween! Please enjoy this spooky inspired Nessian fic! :) 

It had been an accident. A complete and absolute accident. Cassian had agreed to host a mini Halloween party at his loft apartment. They would order food in, play some drinking games, maybe binge some horror movies. It was going to be fun, and Cassian simply wanted his place to look the part. So he had bought those fake spiderwebs and hung them from the lamps and across the curtains. He bought some fake skulls and plastic pumpkins to set about the living room and kitchen. 

And he simply thought it would be funny to draw a pentagram on the floor. It looked just like in those cheesy Halloween movies, and he knew Azriel would get a kick out of it. He even set some candles around it to really make it look the part, and he couldn't help but put on his best 'spooky' voice as he said some words he'd read in one of Rhys' musty books in his library, some language he'd never heard of but sounded cool. He didn't think anything of it. 

And that's how Cassian ends up with a woman standing in the middle of his apartment. 

Cassian has no idea who she is, but he can’t deny that she is breathtakingly gorgeous. Her golden brown hair is braided up into an intricate crown, a few wisps of hair falling against her temples and framing her face. It brings out the cut lines of her cheekbones. She’s wearing a form fitting dress, the black fabric hugging her curves and arms before it flows into a deep blue at her feet. But Cassian’s eyes get stuck on her eyes, as dark as night as they pierce into Cassian’s own. 

"I am the Goddess of Death, Princess of Decay,” the woman says, her voice seeming to boom and echo in Cassian’s apartment. “Who are you who commands me?"

"How did you get in here?"

The question seems to give the woman pause, and she blinks at Cassian for a few seconds. Cassian watches as her head tilts slightly, her eyebrows pinching. 

"Excuse me?" the woman asks. 

"I mean my front door is locked so I'm just confused how you got in here."

"You summoned me."

"I summoned you…?" 

Cassian takes in where the woman is standing, right in the middle of the pentagram, her too dark eyes, and the way power seems to radiate off her in a way that rumbles in his own bones. Finally, his brain catches on. 

"You're a demon." 

The woman crosses her arms, her weight settling on her left leg. She raises her eyebrows at Cassian, her face cold and unimpressed. It pretty clearly reads ‘no shit.’ 

“I summoned a demon?” 

“Are you asking me?” 

“I summoned a demon,” Cassian mutters, mostly to himself. 

“What are you expecting? Congratulations?” the demon-woman quips. “Look, just tell me what you want.” 

“About that…'' Cassian starts, clearing his throat awkwardly and rubbing his hand against the back of his neck. “I actually didn’t mean to summon you. It was an accident.” 

“Is this a joke?”

“Unfortunately not. But I don’t need anything from you, so I guess you can just go back to wherever it is demons live.” 

“That’s not how it works. I’m tied to you until you banish me.” 

“And how do I do that?” 

“You don’t know how to banish me?” 

“I just told you I summoned you by accident. I’m not even sure how I did that.” 

The demon-woman closes her eyes and lets out a long sigh through her nose like she’s trying to stay calm. Cassian can’t help but wonder what would happen if she doesn’t stay calm. Would she attack him like demons in movies? Are the representations of demons in movies accurate? Would it be rude to ask her? After a moment, the demon-woman takes a deep breath and smooths back her hair before settling her eyes back on Cassian. 

“So, let me get this straight,” the demon-woman says. “You summoned me by accident, you don’t actually have any biddings for me to do, and you don’t know how to banish me.” 

 “Yes,” Cassian replies, chuckling sheepishly. 

“Great,” the demon-woman mutters. “I was summoned by an idiot.” 

“But I can Google it,” Cassian promises. 

It turns out, Google isn’t that helpful when it comes to actual demons. Cassian tries various different searches, but all that he’s able to come up with is a bunch of television and movie references, a Buzzfeed article comparing different celebs to demons, and a weird article about making deals with the devil. Luckily, he is able to find a local witchy shop that’s only three blocks down from his apartment. Unfortunately, they’re closed and don’t open until the next morning, so he and demon-woman are stuck together for the time being. 

He had moved to the sofa when he started his Google deep dive, and the demon-woman had stepped gracefully out of the pentagram to sit on the opposite end. She hasn’t said anything since their initial talk when she appeared, and Cassian can’t help but steal glances her way out of the corner of his eye. She looks like a queen the way she’s perched on the cream colored sofa cushion. 

“So,” Cassian drawls into the silence. “Do demons eat? I can order pizza.” 

The demon-woman turns to him, one eyebrow poised. The look sends a shiver down his spine. He's not entirely sure it's out of fear. 

As it turns out, demons do in fact eat, as Cassian learns. He also learns that this particular demon prefers her pizza topped with veggies and that her name is Nesta. 

“Have you always been a demon?” Cassian asks, taking a bite of his pizza slice. 

“Seriously?”

“You’re the first demon I’ve ever met. You can’t blame me for being curious, sweetheart.” 

Nesta’s eyes snap to his, a scowl pinched across her lips. The expression pulls a smile across Cassian’s own face, which only makes Nesta’s eyes narrow more. Cassian’s fingers itch to reach out and smooth the lines between her eyebrows. The desire is so sudden that Cassian busies himself with grabbing another slice of pizza out of the box to distract himself. 

“First of all, don’t ever call me sweetheart again,” Nesta starts. “And to answer your question, no. I haven’t always been a demon.” 

“Then how did you become a demon?” 

“I made a deal.” 

“Was it worth it?” 

Something passes over Nesta’s face then, like ghostly fingers leaving a haunting trail against her skin. Her spine straightens like steel, and when her eyes meet Cassian’s again, there’s a guardedness to her expression that speaks volumes yet leaves Cassian with even more questions. 

“Most days,” Nesta replies simply. 

~ * * * ~

The witchy shop is decidedly less spooky than Cassian had envisioned, but perhaps that’s just his biases and what movies taught him coming into play. He expects cobwebs and weird animal parts in slimy jars, and maybe a black cat that screeches at him when he steps inside. Instead, there’s an aisle dedicated to herbs and another dedicated to crystals. He squints at the black scrawled writing of the placards declaring what each crystal is for. He supposes it would be a bit too easy if one just said ‘banishing demons.’ 

Nesta sighs loudly from over his shoulder when he picks up a candle to smell. When he glances her way, her arms are crossed and that scowl from before is back plastered across her face. Slowly, he turns back around and sets the candle back down on the shelf. 

“Do you mind?” Nesta quips. 

“Alright, alright,” Cassian acquiesces, keeping his voice down to avoid attention. Another thing he learnt last night was that only he could see and hear Nesta.

He heads for the counter of the shop where a young woman is arranging jewelry in the display case. As he approaches, the woman looks up and offers him a friendly smile. Cassian tries to offer one back, but he’s sure it must look more like a grimace. Once at the counter, Cassian clears his throat, shoving nervous fingers through his tangle of hair. 

“Hello,” Cassian starts awkwardly. “This is probably a weird question, but you wouldn’t happen to know how to banish a demon, would you?” 

“Do you have a demon problem?” the shop worker asks. 

“Something like that.” 

“Well, is the demon powerful?” 

Cassian looks over his shoulder to Nesta, raising a questioning eyebrow at her. In response, she merely smiles. It’s all teeth and the exact opposite of innocent. It stirs something deep in his gut. 

“Very,” Nesta bites out.

Cassian turns back to the shop worker. “Very.” 

“Wait,” the shop worker replies. “The demon, is he here?” 

“She,” Cassian corrects. “And yes.” 

“But how did she get past my wards?” 

Cassian’s gaze follows the shop worker’s own, to the silver trinkets that twist and clink together softly above the shop’s door. He can hear Nesta’s scoff at the suggestion, and he doesn’t need to be looking at her to know that she’s rolling her eyes. 

“It would seem they don’t work,” Cassian offers sheepishly. 

The shop worker gapes for just a moment before she turns on her heel, pushing past the beads hanging over the doorway to the backroom. When she returns, she has a box of crystals that she sets down on the counter, a bundle of herbs labeled ‘sage’ and a folded up piece of paper nestled on top. 

“You’ll need to draw a circle and set these crystals around it,” the shop worker explains. “Make sure you charge the crystals under the full moon and don’t wait. Do it the next day. That’s when they’ll be the most powerful. Burn the sage to cleanse and say this incantation, and you should be free of your demon.” 

“Great,” Cassian exclaims, pulling his wallet out of his back pocket. “I’ll take it.” 

After paying and gathering his items, they head out of the shop. Cassian feels lighter already. They have a plan. Plus, the fall weather today is gorgeous and that always helps to lift his spirits, the cool breeze and canopy of yellow and reds above their heads. It definitely helps that fall and Nesta look amazing together, the golden rays of the sun bouncing off her hair. Cassian can’t help but offer her an easy grin as they walk side by side. 

“See? That was super easy. We’ll have you banished before you know it.” 

“And when’s the next full moon?” Nesta asks dryly. 

Cassian startles slightly at the question. He shifts the weight of the things he just bought to one arm and digs his phone out of his pocket with the other. A quick Google later, and Cassian takes in the date glaring back at him on the small screen with a frown. When he looks back up at Nesta, she’s staring back at him unimpressed, clearly already knowing the answer. With a roll of her eyes and what sounds to Cassian like a muttered ‘idiot,’ she takes off ahead him back toward his apartment. 

It’s going to be a long two and half weeks. 

-- 

And Cassian simps the whole time for those two and a half weeks. And there’s feelings. And Cassian makes a deal of his own to save Nesta’s soul. And they live happily ever after. 

#my fic #acotar #nessian #nesta x cassian #nesta archeron #cassian

[dreamrecorder]

Two - Family in the Inn

Witnessing your first five years of life, Xiao concludes that you are a keenly perceptive child.

One

Notes: Lookie~ a part two!! If you read Playing with the Wind, then you know who Brother Wind is ;) i will add the cut thingy tomorrow ksks

At the dead of the night, whispers float here and there with words that no mortal can hear and understand. They were faint, yet there was a thrill of excitement in these words. And just like the excitement the words carry, the winds pick up in a gentle and playful breeze.

To any mortal, all they would hear will be the rush of air that rustles the leaves and branches. However, there is a certain lad who hears them all. He hears the glee in these whispers tossed back and forth among the winds. He hears the wind spirits and he listens with a strum of his lyre.

Brother Wind! A child! A child!

We see a child, Brother Wind! We see a child!

A child under our brother, Demon Wind's Golden Wing!

We hear a sibling! A sibling!

Brother Wind! Do we have a new kin?

Ah, these spirits, always excited at the prospect of a new sibling. But the lad can't blame his kin for the wind spirits are always playful and innocent by nature.

Witnessing your first five years of life, Xiao concludes that you are a keenly perceptive child. He does this conclusion during a quiet night at the balcony of their home, Wangshu Inn.

Every night was a simple routine- wherein Xiao would carry you in his arms and sing a lullaby to lull you asleep. After which he would tuck you into your waiting bed, then he would go out to protect Liyue again. But for tonight, that simple routine was broken down by cheerful whispers of the wind.

Usually, Xiao would ignore these, knowing that these spirits wanted to simply mess and play with him. And usually the result would be the said spirits pestering him even more until Xiao just gives up and vanishes without a trace.

When the breeze picked up and the first wave of whispers came, what Xiao didn't expect was you to bolt right away from his hold and chase these spirits around shouting, "Wind spirits! Wind Spirits! Gēgē, can you see them?!"

At your gleeful eyes, the gentle breeze picked up in a brief moment of rush as it whispers,

They see us! They hear us!

Do you want to play with us, Little Wind?

Brother Demon Wind, can we play with Little Wind?

Of course, seeing the joy in your eyes, Xiao can't help but allow play time with a soft smile. Yet, he does not fail to remind you of your bedtime, "An hour, alright? Then you have to go to bed."

At his words, you beamed at him. Your little legs ran and with tiny arms, you hugged his legs. Looking up you exclaimed, "Thank you, gēgē!"

Ah but before you can run back to the winds, Xiao gently tugged your arm and grabbed your attention.

"Name?"

"Yes, gēgē?"

For a brief moment, Xiao carefully thought through his words. Your spiritual awareness... was quite alarming for him. "How did you know these are wind spirits?"

You hummed a bit as your body swayed in thought. "I don't know! But they feel like I played with them a lot of times before! Like-! Um, like..."

Then you're back to humming as you look for words with your brother patiently waiting.

"Aha! Like how you would play with me with your anemo!! Can I play with them now, gēgē?"

Another smile and another yes, you were now free to play with the wind!!

Play with us! Play with us, Little Wind! Thank you brother Demon Wind!

From that, Xiao concludes that you are a perceptive child. No mortal can even sense the most simplest of spirits, yet you felt them off the bat just because how much time the two of you played with his anemo. No wonder you learned quickly of his being as an adeptus. Worrisome, maybe? For such spiritual awareness also includes unkind spirits. But, at least he knows he can trust the Thousand Winds to look after you.

~~~

You were back in Liyue Harbor again, this time with your father. Since this was your second time, you were not familiar with the harbor yet. Thus, you kept close to your father as he bought the books needed for your upcoming education.

Books never failed to claim your interest, as they are always filled with stories that makes your imagination bloom in wonder. As such, books also never fail have your interest over them wane. However, for once, your interest was stolen by a cheerful voice singing along the strums of a lyre. Looking around, you find the source of such music. You couldn't see the singer, but with curiosity, you started moving towards the lull.

Thanks to your brother's anti-social skills and your small frame, you somehow got to slip through the crowd with ease as you let out occasional excuse me's. At first, the density was intimidating, but your curiosity for the bard and his voice became your motivation.

However, despite your best efforts, you didn't get to see the performance as the crowd began applauding and then going onto separate ways. To say the least, you were saddened, but when you saw the face behind music- happiness and recognition shone in your eyes.

"Brother Wind!"

Nobody- no mortal calls him that and Venti froze but thawing in an instant as he came to realization. There's only one person- one mortal who would call him that. A mortal that his kin would share stories about in glee.

"Little Wind?"

The winds always whisper words here and there. Yet these words that float amongst the leaves fluttering in the wind are never heard nor understood by mortal ears.

All except you.

The wind always tell you stories, and one of them is Brother Wind. A bard who hails from the City of Freedom and sings day and night with his words carried by his very essence. An essence you were familiar with when playing with the spirits and with your brother.

The Little Wind and Brother Wind meets! What joy! What joy!

Let us look for brother Demon Wind to tell and enjoy!

~~~

Seeing his little sibling walk hand in hand with the stupid bard had irked Xiao. With quick and agile movements, Xiao picked you up and glared at the grinning Venti. He whispered angrily at the wind, to which only the Archon can hear. Your status as Archon be damned but I am not letting you near him/her if you still have your ridiculous drinking habits.

Oh come on, Xiao! You know I would never drink in front of a child, much more in front of your little sibling!

Xiao only glared some more but Venti only kept grinning and you are getting weirded out by their contest. Probably an adult thing, you thought.

Throughout Venti's stay in the inn, it had become an embarrassing ride for Xiao. The former would poke fun at him every now and then about how he's gone soft and Xiao is this *close* to kicking him out. But he can't becuase of how suddenly attached you became to the bard. And maybe- maybe there was this twinge in his heart.

It was something that happens occasionally. A thought of doubt resurfacing in his head whenever he's alone while battling the hidden evils of the land. With geniune honesty, Xiao feels truly blessed to have you- but there are times in the darkest pits of his head, that everything he has right now- he does not deserve.

Venti would make for a better bro-

"Hey, Name, among me, the spirits, and Xiao, who's the best playmate?" Venti asked you as you colored on your notebook.

And without even missing a second, you shouted that one word again that pulled Xiao away from the dark thoughts that were about to resurface.

"Gēgē!"

But you didn't stop.

"Gege is the best in everything! He lets me play with his anemo always! And then when we play, he always lets me choose the game first and then we take turns choosing! Not only play time! There's also story time! Gēgē has the best stories! He told me stories about the glaze lillies, the Geo Archon, and the Adepti!

And then we always eat Almond Tofu if it's story time! It's so yummy and sweet and soft! Even Achi Xiangling and mama, papa and Uncle Yanxiao love gēgē's Almond Tofu! You have to try it too Brother Wind!"

All that and you finished with a proud huff of your breath!!

And all throughout, Xiao could only look at you wide teary wide eyes with mouth agape. Seeing him, you pouted, "G-gēgē, d-did I say something wrong?"

At your question, he quickly snapped out of his stupor and hugged you tight. "You did nothing wrong." He quickly reassured as he kissed your forehead.

"Then why are you crying?"

Xiao then wiped his eyes and chuckled lightly, "This is what you call happy tears, Name."

"I didn't make you sad then?"

Again, Xiao hugged you close and he felt your tiny arms do the same, "You made me the happiest than you would ever know since the moment you were born. I- I love you so much, Name."

"I love you, too, gēgē!"

Venti and the Thousand Winds had etched this moment in their memory forever. After all, this was the first time they saw their brother Demon Wind experience and reciprocate pure, genuine love to another. And on the notebook you were coloring on, was a rough drawing of you and Xiao sharing a fresh plate of almond tofu <3.

A/N: and thats it for the second ksks!! I wonder what comes next??? To those who ship xiaoven- i'll say sorry in advance bcos in terms of background relationships- it's venti and zhongli, the old geezers ksks i just love those two together lmao

Taglist: @hanniejji @suckerforgenshinboys @arson-frog-art @anime-read-write-repeat @kryzi

if you wanna get tagged just send an ask^^

#Family in the Inn #genshin impact #genshin imagines #genshin scenarios #xiao #genshin xiao #genshin impact x reader #xiao x reader #genshin venti #venti

[somerpmemes]

The Owl House Starters

Change as needed

“No! My only weakness! Dying!”

“That doesn’t count, right?”

“Do you have any friends? Real ones?”

“Tiny trash thief!”

“Oops, that happens sometimes.”

“I’m a squirmy little fella.”

“I like food, I like love, just let me write about it!”

“Oh, he gets so cute when he’s thirsty for power.”

“I’ve never actually broken any of your stupid laws… in front of you.”

“I hate everything you’re saying right now.”

“We’d be the strongest power couple ever.”

“Self-doubt is a prison you can never escape from.”

“Anyways, let’s bounce before any more monsters fall in love with me.”

“I am not your cutie pie!”

“No one wants an un-oiled snake.”

“Remember, never befriend a man in sandals and always measure twice, cut once.”

“Be back by nightfall or risk mortal peril!”

“I know I’ve had enough delight for one day.”

“Sorry to break it to you, ___, but no one here is that well-dressed.”

“This has been a rough day.”

“Big houses always belong to big whack jobs.”

“Today just got good.”

“Wizards are just old people with glitter in their pockets.”

“Anyways, your food is gone and we are too.”

“Never trust a man in casual drapery.”

“All that mean-spirited laughter made me sleepy.”

“I don’t like this. I really don’t like this.”

“All your food was so tiny and cute.”

“If you can think of a better plan I’d love to hear it.”

“Betrayed by my own cool accessories.”

“I didn’t have to be part of this!”

“I… don’t like this.”

“I think I’ll head home and look at pictures of animals that are still… alive.”

“Wow, you’re so unnoticeable I almost rolled into you.”

“It’s okay, the thorns only went through a few layers of skin.”

“Alright, into the darkness you go.”

“Oh my god, I haven’t eaten real food in so long please give me some.”

“You can’t just cut open a human, can you?”

“Keeping junk in my pocket saved my life!”

“Ahh, baby’s first wanted poster.”

“Even demons have inner demons.”

“This is my paying attention face.”

“Look, now we’re boo boo buddies.”

“It’s like a rainbow, but looking at it turns you inside out.”

“I respect your cunning but I also hate you for it.”

“Oh, gross. Can I keep that?”

“This is terrifying, so why do you look so happy?”

“Oh no, a twist!”

“I’m kind of over that nickname, but okay.”

“Oh, what lovely thing do we have here? It’s just so dang shiny, oh my.”

“And look, I drew flip book.”

“I will literally do anything to stop this.”

“If I’m seen, I could go to jail… again.”

“Alright, let’s see this mess.”

“That’s probably fine.”

“Time to prepare for bloodshed.”

“Welcome down to my level!”

“I know I should be repulsed but that look is fierce.”

“I’m gonna steal everything that’s not nailed down!”

“I was up all night poison tasting and, for some reason, I don’t feel great.”

“I need an extra pair of eyes looking out for pickpockets. And an extra pair of hands in case I want to pickpocket.”

“I got leaves in my pants. And I like it.”

“I was a strange child.”

“You think this can stop me? I can still bite your ankles.”

“If you’re gonna eat me, just do it now!”

“___, you’re getting all swoony again.”

“Rivals are meant to be annihilated, not befriended.”

“Witches eating babies is so 1693.”

“Ugh, you.”

“I thought we were as cool as cucumbers but we’re as sour as pickles.”

“Whoa, I almost passed out.”

“It’s been hours, how can it keep screaming!?”

“Say that again and I steal your tongue.”

“Keep going, this is fun to watch.”

“Isn’t that taking it a bit too far?”

“Just go away before things somehow get worse!”

“This never happened.”

“And who doesn’t like their name in lights?”

“That’s the incorrect reaction!”

“I smell an easy mark.”

“Well, I hate her.”

“It’s like demonic possession with the ones you love.”

“This is just like my favorite early 2000’s movie!”

“I’m so old… and pointy.”

“I’ve got some very confusing emotions right now.”

“My life’s not a joke! But yours is!”

“Novelty costumes are where I draw the line.”

“I am not above disrespecting my elders.”

“This vacation just took an alarming, back-alley turn.”

“Geez, I thought I’d like being babied. But I feel small and helpless, like some sort of baby.”

“Hey, take this, society!”

“I didn’t like her telling me what to do before, but now I love it!”

“Let’s go let out some teen angst!”

“This is how the cool kids ride. Super backwards, on purpose.”

“Your life is pretty terrible. But, hey, it’ll probably be over soon.”

“This is some of my best work, really captures the shame.”

“That’s sweet, kid. Now let’s never speak of this again.”

“Show, don’t tell, man.”

“Oh, look what you did. I’m gonna go rub it in.”

“That seems like a potential problem to me.”

“You being the razzle, I’ll bring the dazzle.”

“Do you always have confetti on you or—?”

“You’re just gonna be unhelpful, huh?”

“Okay, time to run for no particular reason!”

“Oof, I’ve had this nightmare before.”

“Like I’d actually apologize.”

“I want power, and I want drama.”

“Are you ready to give up?”

“I was afraid, I acted stupid.”

“I just wish you told me the truth.”

“You know, it didn’t taste as bad as I thought I would.”

“Impressive, still alive.”

“This is a throne worthy of a tyrant!”

“No, no, keep those sticky hands away.”

“No one wants to see that.”

“Since when are you into sports?”

“Gross, sympathy.”

“Don’t spend all night plotting revenge.”

“Oh, this is an interesting development.”

“I’ll take that weird grumble as a yes.”

“I’m feeling confident about this plan.”

“Trust must be earned.”

“If you run, you’ll just make it harder for yourself!”

“Your pride has destroyed you.”

“So tiny, so angry.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever be clean again.”

“If you ever want to search for the truth, I’ll help you.”

“Aww, that’s a horrible lie.”

“Partake of my free snack samples!”

“Why isn’t anyone paying attention to me?”

“A, eww. B, I’m bored. C, I feel like pickpocketing some dork while they browse.”

“I know my good angle.”

“Ugh, what are the basement dwellers doing out in natural sunlight?’

“Hey, there’s more to life than shipping.”

“___, I know you’re trying to help, but I think you’re crossing a line.”

“Ooh, I love punching.”

“You’re ominous, and I like it.”

“And of course you would be here just to be a nuisance.”

“I wanted to compare sunglasses.”

“Fame can really box you in, you know?”

“Besides, if anyone’s putting you down it’s gonna be me.”

“If it’s disappointing in any way I’ll spend the rest of my life trashing it.”

“He scammed us. Can you believe he scammed us?”

“Good entrance. But that outfit? Hah!”

“I’ve got a new crush and her name is education!”

“Ahh, fresh garbage.”

“I have never seen such an extravagant earring.”

“Wow, a surprisingly peaceful domestic moment. When will it be ruined?”

“Weaponizing my pride, well played.”

“Sorry, whoever’s over there!”

“Well, go on. Eat the snow.”

“Huh, it’s no fun if they don’t tremble.”

“Oh, okay, alright. Yup, an idea’s happening.”

“Shh! I don’t need your validation!”

“Get back here before that thing bites you!”

“No, we’re gonna die.”

“Cool. I didn’t actually think you could do it.”

“It’s not a secret.”

“Alright, your adorable banter is literally making me sick.”

“Believe it or not, I’ve seen worse.”

“Aww. I won’t be doing that, but thanks.”

“Quitting: it’s like trying, but easier.”

“You humans are filled with liquids, right?”

“I guess I have always liked pouring things into other things.”

“Time to scrounge through the trash.”

“I ain’t no desk jockey.”

“You don’t know diddly dang about squiddly squat!”

“I love secret rooms!”

“You have an aura of lies.”

“Also, you can eat trash.”

“Do the right thing, you dingus!”

“It just goes on like this for an hour.”

“Carnivals bring crowds and crowds bring suckers.”

“We’ve got scams to run.”

“I know poison when I see it.”

“You can’t scam a scammer.”

“You should really put a lock on your closet.”

“I love crimes!”

“Now this is my kind of weird.”

“That’s way safer than becoming blood brothers.”

“Beat up the man and steal his things for me.”

“This mama is ready for trauma.”

“All right. Approval!”

“Curse these stubby legs!”

“Sketchy carnival rides are not to blame this time.”

“___, you’re lucky I can’t be mad at your adorable antics.”

“Just when I thought I couldn’t respect the law any less…”

“Aww, what a supportive sign.”

“Yep, I just counted to one million.”

“Looks like we ruined his life for a second time.”

“I’ve always wanted to own a jagged piece of cheap metal.”

“Yes! Bread puns, bread puns forever!”

“Now I know what friendship tastes like.”

“I think today is a talons day.”

“It’s fun because it’s stupid.”

“I’ll admit, I was adorable.”

“Be careful with my brain.”

“Wouldn’t you rather talk about it?”

“That’s my motto after all, ‘Out of sight, out of mind.’”

“No schemes, no plots, no ruses. None.”

“I can’t believe I made him cry.”

“Are you solving a crime or about to commit one?”

“Sadly this is one problem crime can’t solve.”

“I’m supposed to choose someone interesting, accomplished, and noteworthy. People aren’t meant to be all those things!”

“Yup, her brain’s burned up real good.”

“Be still my fantasy-loving heart.”

“I’m pretty good at getting stuck inside people’s heads.”

“Hey, I found something magical.”

“I’ma put my face in it.”

“It’s like a little doghouse for angels.”

“If you’re handing out attention, I deserve it.”

“Eww, I mean, aww.”

“I really messed things up.”

“It’s eggs, it’s full of eggs.”

“No one turns down an interview with someone this pretty.”

“Me? Avoid? What? No. But let’s skip it.”

“There’s levels to me, kid. Levels I say!”

“Oh, right, I put people in there.”

“I’m gonna hug you so hard you’ll never forget me again!”

“I regret teaching you about the internet.”

“Ah, a severed hand. Perfect response.”

“Hmm, the demon at my shoulder makes a good point.”

“Always trust a shoulder demon.”

“The more I look at him, the more uncomfortable I get.”

“Man, you’ve got some quick grabbers.”

“I can’t wait to get overdressed, take awkward photos, push all the buttons!”

“We’re gonna turn this bloodbath into a fun bath.”

“Do you think I could pull off red eyeshadow?”

“Girl, you could pull off anything.”

“We’re style geniuses!”

“Ominous footsteps, creepy woods, this is no problem.”

“Dang, I look great.”

“___, you always go overboard and I end up bailing you out.”

“Now, what’s the fun in watching a kid get eaten by a monster if it’s my kid?”

“___, I don’t think you’re ready but we’re literally out of time.”

“Why so twitchy, witchy?”

“Teenagers are brutal. They’ll boo anyone and that kind of public humiliation will stick with you for life.”

“You look nice. Strange, but nice.”

“Honestly, I’m kind of amazed with how fearless you are.”

“You’ve done things I could never do.”

“Thing is, you’re sitting in my personal chitchat zone, which means you gotta talk.”

“I am a little weirdo.”

“You gotta pander.”

“Cheating a isn’t anything to brag about.”

“Well, can’t reason with crazy!”

“I’ve been talking for too long.”

“Feeling sentimental?”

“I love water.”

“I don’t know much about sports but I do know about sports movies.”

“What happens in the montage stays in the montage.”

“Not everything can be solved with a good attitude and a dope movie soundtrack.”

“Sorry, I just really love backstories.”

“You just destroyed your social life.”

“That’s such a stupid rule!”

“You’re not gonna show this to anyone, right?”

“I haven’t forgotten what you promised me.”

“Ahh, you’re a thorn in my side but you always dig your way into my heart.”

“Jeez, you’re morbid.”

“Ahh, it’s a fate much worse than death if you think about it.”

“Please don’t make me regret taking you here.”

“Love me a properly ventilated castle.”

“I spy with my little eye something coming this way!”

“I’m going away and I don’t know if I can come back this time.”

“And  ___, thank you, for being in my life.”

“I want her back as much as you do.”

“Don’t look at me like that, this is for your own good.”

“Ah farts, I got caught.”

“You understand, don’t you?”

“Please tell me that’s not as bad as it sounds.”

“To be great, you have to make sacrifices.”

“Ahh, ___, you chose the wrong side.”

“I like your spirit, but try that again and things won’t end well for you.”

“Go on, then. Go be a hero.”

“I may have lost but so have you.”

“I can teach you what I know, and what we don’t know we can learn together.”

#the owl house #starters #rp starters #sentence starters #sentence starter meme #rp #rp meme #ask meme #long post

[chaoticpuff17]

When the Chips are Down

part 13

masterlist

Namjoon calmed down, if only by a  little now that both mom and baby were confirmed to be healthy and safe. He was still nervous about every ache and pain she had, but he hovered a little less. He was also more affectionate after their night together and the revelations the following morning. It was as though she’d given him the greenlight for him to smother her in every bit of affection he’d been holding himself back from. In a way it was like the first weeks of their marriage all over again. He brought her flowers, spent his evenings home with her. He ate breakfast with her every morning as if they were a normal happy couple. It was oddly idyllic.

Though that didn’t last long as her due date creeped closer and closer until it finally came and went setting everyone on edge again. 

Miss In was convinced that it was a bad omen and was doing everything in her power to try to induce labor. She tried everything from encouraging her to take more walks or serving spicy foods in the hope that they would help bring on labor. Y/N herself was no less anxious for the pregnancy to be over. Her back ached. Her ankles were swollen, and her little girl had taken to sitting very low and uncomfortably in her belly. The more uncomfortable she was, the crankier she became, and the crankier she was, the more on edge Namjoon became. 

The pair were sitting in the library simply waiting for any sign of the baby coming when Namjoon received a call on his cell. 

“What?” he barked, drawing Y/N’s attention from her book. She didn’t normally pay too much attention to his phone calls, but then again, they very rarely provoked such a strong reaction from him. Namjoon liked to keep most of his business out of the house and way from her. “Take him to the clinic. Is the girl secured? Good. Keep her there and make sure she doesn’t leave.” there was a pause as whoever was on the other side of the line spoke. “I don’t care if you have to put him in a headlock and force him to go. He needs to get checked out.” 

The call ended abruptly, and it was clear that whatever had happened had put Namjoon in a foul mood. 

“What’s wrong?” she asked, setting her book aside. 

“Taehyung’s been stabbed.” 

“Stabbed?” 

“Aerie, his fiancee, managed to stab him in the thigh. Jimin is getting him to the clinic to get it looked at.” 

“She stabbed him?” she asked, pleasantly surprised by the news. From what she had heard. The poor girl didn’t get much freedom under Taehyung’s care. She hadn’t met the woman herself, but she liked her more and more by the second. 

“You stabbed me.” Namjoon reminded her grumpily, running a hand through his hair in frustration. 

“I wasn’t aiming for you.” she shot back, rolling her eyes. “Do you need to go take care of that?” she asked, noticing how antsy he seemed.

“No.” he sighed, leaning back in his chair with a groan. “You could go into labor at any time now.” 

“I’m a week past due.” she huffed, glaring down at her belly. Their baby girl refused to make this easy on either of them, and it was incredibly frustrating. “I don’t think this little girl is going to decide to come within the hour it’s going to take you to check on Taehyung.” 

“She could.” he responded with a wry but tired smile. “She’s stubborn like her mother.”

“Yes, because it’s completely possible for me to go into labor and have the baby all within an hour.” she was clearly unimpressed, but Namjoon grinned. 

“She could. She could take after you and keep us both on our toes, and you haven’t been feeling well.”  

“Go.” she leaned back with a groan. “It’s better than you hovering. Your presence is not magical. She’s going to come when she’s going to come, and I’ll be in just as much discomfort when you get back.” she raised a brow waiting for Namjoon to move or say something, but he didn’t. “If there’s any hint of a possibility of labor, I’m sure Miss In or whatever babysitter you have on duty will call you.”  

Namjoon was going to protest, but his phone rang again drawing both of their attention. Everyone knew that Namjoon had taken time off for the baby. Getting two calls within a span of five minutes couldn’t be good.

 “What?” he growled, already on edge from Taehyung’s call. “What!” he barked, shooting upright, clenching the phone in his hand so hard that Y/N was almost afraid that he would break it. “What do you mean she’s gone?” 

“Namjoon?” 

“Of course.” he sighed, standing up. “I’ll be right there. Is her tracker online?” 

“Namjoon?” she asked again, growing more concerned. She knew from personal experience that running did not have pleasant consequences here. 

“We’ll get her back, Hobi. Don’t worry.” 

That sent a cold bolt of fear down her spine. She had assumed that it was Aerie that had run. It would make sense after just having stabbed Taehyung, but hearing Hoseok’s name changed everything. If Hoseok was calling about a runaway, then Iyla was probably involved. She’d told her sister to run. She was proud of her sister for trying, but she hated to think of what would happen if she was caught. 

“Namjoon!” she demanded, voice rising shrilly as he hung up the phone. “What’s going on?” 

“Your sister is just as foolish and stubborn as you.” he growled, striding toward the door. 

“Is she alright?” 

“She dug the chip from her arm and ran off.” he laughed, the sound harsh and grating with no real humor to it. His gaze on her was dark and brooding a clear indicator that he was positively fuming. “So no, I don’t think she’s alright. She certainly won’t be when Hoseok gets his hands on her.” 

“Namjoon!” she gasped, standing from her own chair. “You promised she wouldn’t be hurt. You promised.” 

“I won’t be held responsible for the consequences of your brat of a sister’s actions. Whatever Hoseok has planned as a punishment, I stand behind it.” she opened her mouth to protest, but Namjoon was swift to cut her off. “I won’t allow my brothers to go through what you put me through, even if the woman in question is your sister.” 

He wasn’t blind. He could see how upset this had made her, but there were rules in his kingdom that not even she could be an exception too. Her sister certainly wasn’t going to be an exception even if it upset her. 

With a sigh, Namjoon crossed the room back to her, pressing a kiss to her hair before leaning his forehead against hers. “I’ll be home soon. Try not to worry.” 

“How can I not worry? You’re hunting down my little sister like an animal.” 

“I have Tae to check on, your sister to find, and Hoseok to calm down. I don’t need anything to happen to you.” She took a step back, refusing to look at him, her jaw clenched. “I’ll call Jungkook to stay with you.” 

“If anything happens to Iya…” 

“She’ll be safe and sound at home where she belongs soon enough.” 

He turned to leave again only to be stopped in his tracks by what she said next. “Did you really think she wouldn’t try?” she called after him. “Can you blame her? None of us asked for this.” 

“Whether you asked for it or not, jagi, this is your home, your family, and abandoning your family is unacceptable.” 

He strode off leaving Y/N alone in the library her mind whirling with the possibilities. If there was any deity watching over them, Iyla would be able to get away safely, but their family seemed to be particularly forsaken in recent years. She could hope that Iyla would be able to get, to stay away, and if that wasn’t going to be possible, she at least hoped that her sister would be alright when they caught her. She knew full well though that no one was going to update her on what was going on. No one ever kept her updated on Namjoon’s business, and she had a hunch that this would qualify as Namjoon’s business. 

“Miran!” she called striding out of the library. 

Almost immediately the shy maid popped up as if from nowhere. She was her silent shadow in the estate running to get her whatever she needed and reporting on her to Miss In and by extension Namjoon.

“Yes, buin?” 

“I need you to tell me the moment that Namjoon comes back home.” 

The maid nodded quickly. She was a mousy girl, but she was endearing and very eager to please. “Is there anything else I can do for you, buin? Miss In says you should take a walk today.” 

“She’s said that every day for the past week.” 

“Well we can’t argue with Miss In.” a new voice chimed in bringing their attention to Jungkook who stood at the other end of the hall with a wide smile.

“Kookie.” she breathed out a sigh of relief. If there were any of Namjoon’s people she could get to tell her what was going on, it was Jungkook. She moved as quickly as she could, practically throwing herself into the younger man’s arms. This was the first time she’d seen him since she’d been back, something about him being out on assignment, and it was good to see him. “I missed you.” 

“I missed you too, noona.” he laughed, tightening his arms around her. “It’s good to have you home.” He pulled back observing her bump. “You got big, noona.” 

“It’s rude to comment on a lady’s size, Kookie.”  she playfully scolded, but took his hand and pressed it to her belly where the baby was moving. “That’s your niece, who refuses to come out.” 

“A niece?” his eyes were wide, excited. “Hyung doesn’t tell me anything.” he whined.

“He doesn’t tell me anything either.” she scoffed bitterly. “Have you heard anything? Do you know what’s happening with Iyla?” 

Jungkook shook his head. “I know that Taehyung hyung is fine. He’ll recover, but Aerie is going to be in serious trouble when he gets home. But Namjoon and Hobi hyung are looking for Iyla now.” 

She sighed disappointedly. “You’ll tell me if you hear anything else?” 

“I don’t think hyung wants you to know.” he shook his head sadly. “She’ll be okay, noona. Iyla is tough, like you.” 

“She shouldn’t have to be like me.” 

“I’m sorry, noona.” there was a moment of awkward silence as neither of them quite knew what to say now. Jungkook couldn’t tell her anything, and even if he could, there was no new information to share. “Why don’t we take a walk?” 

“Alright.” she sighed, taking the arm that Jungkook offered. Everyone had been very careful with her especially for the past week. She was having trouble moving because of the swollen ankles and the discomfort they caused, so she was appreciative of the extra support even if it was frustrating. 

They walked for a while, catching up, asking and answering questions about the baby, but there was an unspoken tension. Neither of them knew what was going on outside of the estate. It had her worried, and no matter what Jungkook tried, he couldn’t get her mind off of it. It seemed like nothing would, until the first pain hit. 

“Noona?” Jungkook asked frantically hovering over her has she hissed in pain half bent over. “Noona, what’s wrong?” 

Another pain hit, sending Jungkook into a frenzy as she cried out. “Get Miran. Get Miss In.” she demanded, clutching her belly. 

“Noona?” 

“Jungkook.” She snapped, looking at him with wide nervous eyes. “The baby’s coming. I need you to get help.” 

He nodded resolutely, helping her to the patio so she could sit before dashing into the house to get help followed by the sound of Y/N crying out in pain. 

part 14

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