#for me especially?? i tend to ride in waves of 2 years for groups that end up becoming really improtant to me;; | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

theswarmanthology · 2 years

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Summer, 20, Somewhere in Canada (not polar bear territory)

"I don't tend to talk much in fandom spaces but the people are very kind. I quietly reblogged pictures of the guys and had a Lola themed blog. Although in the My Chemical Romance fandom I only have about 2 mutuals being an MCR fan as helped me make friends in other areas. I love comic books, especially Gerard's. I liked Gerard's comics before I even considered myself a fan of the band, so talking about The Umbrella Academy, TTLOTFK, and Gerard's run of Doom Patrol. I was able to make comic friends through the My Chemical Romance fandom, and meet some pretty important comic people along the way! I was in a workshop run by comic book badass Shelly Bond. And lo, even with comic book nerds from across the world, we had My Chem fans crediting their love of the medium to Gerard! England, America, all over! And that was just online, on my first day at my new university, the amount of people I saw wearing tour merch was insane. We were like this little club all shyly waving to each other in a weird sort of camaraderie."

Fast Facts: How long have you been a fan?: 5-8 years Did you get to see MCR live before this tour?: No, this tour was my first time seeing MCR How many shows on this tour did you attend in total?: 1 Favorite album: Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge Show experience out of 10: 10 Did you cry at your show?: Yes

Which date of the tour did you attend? 09/05/22, Scotiabank Arena, Toronto, Night 2

When did you get your tickets for your show? Was it a struggle, or were they easy to grab? Me going to see My Chem was a bit of an impulse buy. My friend group at the time were all heavy concertgoers and I had only ever been to one. I wasn't entirely sold on the idea of going to a cramped, hot arena paying large sums of money to have my ears ring for the next two weeks. (I also got Covid from one Mr. Styles' show so I was hesitant on going on that alone). But I thought of my older brother, the one who introduced me to the band, who saw them on their World Contamination tour. He described it as being pure magic, the height of his otherwise tumultuous teenagehood. After asking him for the umpteenth time what it was like to see them live I went on Ticketmaster and bought the first tickets I could get. Nosebleed seats for sure, and set me back a fair chunk of change but being an unemployed student at the time you get what you get.

Did you attend with anyone else? Solo. Well, for the subway ride to the venue and back so I could avoid any track-pushing or shanking I want with my dear friend J and his coworker V. We worked at Hot Topic- go figure. We were doing our makeup on the ride there, listening to the songs, getting excited when we saw other concert goers, and getting REALLY excited when we made it to the arena, seeing all the beautiful costumes people were wearing. There were families with kids in corpse paint, elderly folks wearing battle jackets, and in front of us were two people dressed as sexy nuns handing out crackers with a chirpy "Body of Christ?". Being the most lukewarm Catholic you can imagine I got a real kick out of this, and a snack! But for the actual show, I was alone, next to a couple who were on a date that seemed to be going piss poor. The lady sat next to me had her ears covered the whole time and the two folks in front of me were recording and were very miffed at my singing. I wasn't going to let these squares squander my fun so I broke a fire safety rule and took to the aisle to headbang and scream my little heart out.

What did you wear? A red bralette that I found behind my washing machine, my bootiest of booty shorts, and a big lolloping knock-off skeleton onesie that got VERY hot very quickly. I was able to tie the onesie around my waist once the novelty of my little homage wore off, and was actually quite comfortable! I definitely preferred wearing PJ's and my ratty old converse than wearing an outfit I couldn't move around in. It was, and still is, drenched in the smell of the venue, which sentimentality aside is not very good. At least I have a keepsake?

Where were your seats? When I first bought the tickets they were the nosiest-of-nosebleed seats, and I was fine with that! But as I passed through the gates security told me to go to Fan Check. This shocked me originally since for once I had no tricks (booze) up my sleeve for this concert. Instead of giving me a talking-to, they actually moved my tickets to be VERY close to the stage, free of charge! They said they wanted the nice seats to fill up so I can an excellent view of the band, and of one Mr. Ray Toro, who was giving our side special attention that night. I feel like a fainting, swooning old noblewoman just thinking about it.

What was your favorite song(s) from the setlist they played at your show? Cemetery Drive. I wish I had something more romantic to say about it but I worry it's too soul-bearing. I cried. The girl next to me cried. It was catharisis.

What song were you most hoping to hear? Did you get to hear it? I was hoping for Demolition Lovers (which was a long shot) but alas, it wasn't meant to be. Considering my mental state at the time before going maybe it was for the best, I think that song should be saved for snowy evenings on transit when you feel a hot ball of lead in your stomach that's somewhere between heartache and anger. I don't think the bad-date couple needed to see me like that.

What was your favorite moment from the show? Gerard calling us all hippies making the entire arena smell like weed. Now, I did not partake in the weedsmoking nor will I be a snitch on the people who were. All I can say is, isn't it impressive how someone on my side was able to sneak in a full-sized bong? Where do you even hide that thing? Also, I was waving my phone flashlight in tandem with someone across the stadium, we were making circles, waving, and doing little dances during the intermission. I go on instagram- and what do I see but an old friend of mine posting us doing it! It was him! After all these years reuniting at the My Chemical Romance tour! My heart is warm thinking about it. I've missed him- we were high school troublemakers together. Listening to My Chem while stealing shopping carts and being pushed around town to being all-grown up and seeing them live. F, if you're reading this, thank you.

What was the most unexpected moment from the show? The use of not one, but TWO bullets songs. I could practically hear J and V from across the stadium shriek with pure, Dionysian glee. Not to say that I wasn't as well.

Did you snag any merch? What pieces? I got the BoyZone tee! Unfortunately, so did half the student body at my university in which the first day was the day after the concert. I tried to lightheartedly tell someone. "One of us is going to have to change!" they did not laugh. I'm only still a little embarrassed by it.

Many fans describe seeing MCR live as feeling like coming home. Did you experience anything like that at your show? It felt strange. I haven't felt that feeling since I was a young kid. The first time I heard an MCR song was on my hand-me-down laptop given to me by the older brother I mentioned earlier. Being a little kid I only really cared about playing Animal Jam but I would to it to the tune of the only song he left for me on it. Teenagers. Explicit version. I would listen to it CONSTANTLY. I didn't know how to download music so that was all I had. That was until my very Christian father heard the naughty naughty swear words and deleted the song and replaced it with the clean version. It's a decade later, and now I can listen to songs with bad words whenever I want, DAD. My Chemical Romance will always remind me of my brother, showing me cool clothing stores and cool T.V. shows and letting me learn to skateboard in our driveway on his board. Seeing MCR, that strange feeling, was like staying up late on a school night, eating Doritos and being passed down the sacred knowledge that is cool older brother music. It was coming home to the special moments he and I had, that he made an effort despite being an angsty, always angry teen. He always had time for his sister and making sure she grew up to like good rock music. My Chemical Romance is a big brother and seeing them live is sneaking out to a show, knowing that your parents are going to kill you when you get home.

If you could change one thing about your show experience, what would it be? I came to the show with a little pouch of crystals and my rosary. I was giving out crystals to friends-of-friends but there was a girl sat next to me who was the only one dancing with me. I wanted to give her my rosary but she left before I could. I think of her now and then.

Has your perspective or opinion about the band changed since seeing them on this tour? If so, in what way? Yes. I don't mean this in a parasocial way but it was strange seeing them as PEOPLE. IN PERSON. Not that I hold celebrities to a higher regard than other people that is, in my humble opinion, cringe as hell. But the way they were smiling at people, dancing, having a good time- it definitely has a different feel than watching through a screen. Ray's hair looks even better in person, if you can believe it.

What advice would you give to people seeing My Chemical Romance in the future? Dance! Headbang! Sing! If you're too scared to dance, I was too. But I can tell you first hand that if you dance, people will dance with you! Shimmy an shriek to your hearts content. Who cares what anyone thinks? You know who's a bigger loser than being the only one dancing? Being so lame you think it's funny to laugh at people who are. And if MCR ever comes back and if you're in Toronto and you're too scared to dance, look for me, I'll dance with you!

Thanks, Summer! They can be found on Tumblr at @dandified-doe.

#story #09/05/22 #mcrtoronto2

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jaskiersvalley · 3 years

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Ur wolficorn fic sent me into a catatonic laughing fit I straight up couldn't breath for almost 2 min thank u

I'm so pleased the Wolficorn fic had you laughing so much. It was definitely one written in a spur of the moment idiocy XD While I don't have anything quite so silly to offer today, how about some idiot shenanigans of less outlandishness?

Sharing Is Caring

There was something unique to Wolf Witchers that nobody outside of their school knew about. their mages had been experimenting with not just the body but the mind too. Knowledge was essential to being a successful Witcher and little did anyone know but the mages were highly competitive, wanting their school to be the best. The Wolf mages had secretly perfected a formula. They called it Moss because it spreads and links minds so they can share knowledge without issues.

It's all well and good, Lambert, Geralt, Eskel, and Vesemir get together each winter and spend nights linked, sharing stories from the path, helping figure out whether harpies have a blind spot they could exploit to make contracts a little easier. However, the year Jaskier, Cahir and Aiden were with them, and Aiden can smell the unusual potion on Lambert, the ruse was up. They all wanted in on what sounded like quite a lot of fun.

"It requires a lot of control, adepts learn it together while they're still young," Vesemir grumbled, reluctant to share.

"Well, I'm a Witcher, I have control," Aiden shot back, pulling himself up to his full height and puffing his chest out.

Not to be out done, Jaskier was next to him, looking equally entitled. "I am nothing if not a quick study."

Somewhat slower and a bit more shy but no less determined, Cahir cleared his throat from behind them. "I won't be left out either."

Which was how, outnumbered and threatened with being pestered, sung into madness and soulfully stared at, Vesemir relented. They set the great hall up, pillows for comfort, more than usual because Jaskier demanded it and the vial of Moss was brought out.

"As the strongest in Chaos, Eskel goes first, he'll ground us," Geralt explained. One by one they took a sip and passed the vial on, then got comfortable, lying down and reaching for the person either side so they formed a circle of sorts. Like a gentle wave, something tugged at them, dragging them from the present into something warm and comforting.

The memory surfaced gently, there were pangs of fatigue and aching muscles but muted. The focus was very much on the nest of harpies that had been disturbed. Through Eskel's eyes they could see how he worked, corralling the creatures and approaching from the side. An inner monologue started up.

"I'd noticed that the harpies tended to approach at a 20 degree path from the rockface over the years. And if they swarm, they stay at a 25 degree angle to each other. So I set about testing a theory."

In the memory the harpies shifted as Eskel jumped but did nothing else. When they zeroed in on him again, Eskel moved too.

"I suspected that the harpies have a blind spot in the 20-25 degree range. It is something that is worth exploiting. In a group they will try to guard each other's blind spots but can be used against them, especially with projectiles."

There was a soft clamour in the memory of multiple not quite voices brushing together, a feeling of intrigue and gratitude. Eskel's memory was followed by Geralt's a review of some of the flowers and the regional mutations he had found in them. Lambert brought forth his contract on a werewolf whose stomach had been filled with stolen silver jewellery, probably in the mistaken hope of it preventing the transformation. Though he quickly stopped sharing about what he then did with the found silver, Aiden's memories picked up. There was glee and excitement in there. They had sold some of the silver to get a nice room for the night as well as a bath to share.

The problem was, there was no way to look away from a memory and Aiden seemed to have no shame in sharing the knowledge he'd learned on the Path that year. Namely, he'd discovered a new way to flick his tongue during a blowjob that had Lambert keening, head thrown back and tendons in his neck standing out.

Somewhere in the muted mixture of outrage, humiliation and pride there was one clearer voice.

"Thanks for the tip, I'm so trying that." Which was how focus moved from Aiden to Jaskier. The first thing that hit them all was exhaustion. Aching legs, a creaky knee a back that screamed to be allowed to lie on a flat surface. Instead, Geralt stepped through the doors of the tavern, looking equally drawn and in the memory they could all feel the wide smile Jaskier sent him before looking to the tavern owner. The set Jaskier played was no different to his usual by the looks of it, however this time there was an increasing wave of concern from Geralt as Jaskier struggled at hiding his fatigue and sadness. It wasn't that he didn't like performing but his heart ached that he had to push himself at every opportunity because people didn't take kindly to Geralt. The memory ended when Jaskier trudge upstairs, forcing his chatter and smile until his head hit the pillow and he was out like a light.

There was silence in their joined consciousness, an uneasy shifting from Jaskier at his secret having been spilled until Geralt mentally enveloped him, gratitude and sadness.

"There's a lot that's done out of love," Cahir mused. There had been absolute blankness from him for the whole joining which had been unnerving. It made Lambert and Aiden turn their attention to the void that shrouded him and began poking, pulling and trying to tease something out of him. It was Eskel's warm push that jolted them all into a memory.

"I remember this," Eskel thought. "You said nothing had happened."

That might have been a small lie. Eskel had been out to track down fiend that had been terrorising a king's hunting grounds. He'd said it would take at least three days to track it and kill it before dragging a head back as proof of completion of the contract. While he was gone, Cahir had been permitted to stay at the castle as a guest. With his knowledge of Nilfgaard, he was a valuable asset and many often tried to draw information from him in a variety of ways.

The fiend was taking longer to sort than anticipated, not that Cahir was worried. It was only the fourth day and he'd ride out the next day if there was no sign of Eskel, that was fine. However, he had been invited for an audience with the king in the throne room. What was nice was that the king stood rather than lounge in his throne though that was probably more to do with his sciatica than the desire to treat Cahir as an equal. It did mean though that when a messenger came in, Cahir heard it all.

"My King, there's news that the fiend has struck again. Rumour is that the Witcher has failed, might be injured in the forest."

"How unfortunate," the king had drawled.

"Do we send a rescue party?"

"Why bother? He's just a Witcher?"

The flare of fury and protectiveness was overwhelming and the memory was choked by it, only brought back into focus by the sound of a slap as Cahir delivered a swift, hard backhand, making the king's head snap to the side.

Immediately there was the sound of swords being drawn and guards advanced on Cahir who gave a nonchalant shrug.

"What? He's just a king."

Spluttering, the king waved his guards off and glared at Cahir. "People love me. I matter to them. A Witcher doesn't."

"I don't love you. But I love my Witcher, he matters to me." Cahir glanced at his nails, the perfect image of disinterest even as his stomach was in tight knots. "You're say here, getting fatter each day. Eskel's out there actually protecting your people. So tell me, who matters more? A king who is easily replaced and they're dime a dozen on this Continent? Or a Witcher when no more of them are being made and the only ones who can conquer a fiend when it hunts in the same area you wish to pursue for sport?"

The memory closed off at that, Cahir finally getting control back over himself. He shrank back into his void, a soft murmur of embarrassment echoed in the connection. "You weren't meant to find that out."

Breaking the circle, Eskel pulled himself from the effects of Moss and the others broke out of it too, just in time to see Eskel roll on top of Cahir and kiss him.

"You could have died you idiot."

"So could you." Cahir refused to feel remorse or regret for his actions. "From what I recall, the king paid you handsomely for your efforts when you came back the next day."

The moment was broken by Jaskier clearing his throat, hand in Geralt's and tugging. "If you'll excuse us, we have a new tongue trick to try."

Without a word, Vesemir walked into the kitchen, down into the cellar and got started early on the moonshine.

#geraskier #lambden #eskhir #geralt/jaskier #lambert/aiden #eskel/cahir #gerlat of rivia #jaskier #lambert #aiden #eskel #cahir mawr dyffryn aep ceallach #vesemir #tldr: witchers share memories of their year to share knowledge

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thedeathdoctor · 4 years

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Kinktober Days 2, 3, and 4: Aphrodisiac, Thigh Riding, and Size Difference

Friday the 13th: Jason x Reader

Forbidden Nectar

Aka: sometimes you celebrate your actual 21st birthday by chilling in the woods behind your house with a Yeti tumbler full of Sangria and end up getting the best dick of your life by your local thicc stalker/slasher

~Under the cut below~

You weren’t like the other girls, no matter how hard you tried. For you, high school had come and gone in the blink of an eye, and yet some of it still lingered in your mind. College was a chance to reinvent yourself, join in with a group of friends where you could grow into being a satisfied, competent woman. There, to some extent, you did.

Joining a sorority was one of the few sporadic things you tried that managed to stick with you. During Fall Recruitment freshman year, you fell in love with Greek Life on campus, rushed, and accepted the invitation one of the sororities extended to you. Fundraising and outreach activities were your favorite; you had grown up with a passion for helping others, from Girl Scouts to food drives through your high school, you showed up for them all. However, you could never shake the nagging thoughts in the back of your mind, thoughts that insisted that the people around you didn’t like you as much as they seemed.

Summers home felt especially isolating when you returned home for the break. You loved your parents and of course missed your dogs, but the difference between your busy college town campus and Yeehaw, New Jersey was like night and day. It took a few days to readjust to the change in pace when you returned. Time had a really funny way of standing still in Crystal Lake while you went to school for a whole nine months of the year. The same pickup truck stood watch over the corner store by your house as long as you could remember. At school, the surrounding towns seemed to be able to move entire roads around over break, leaving you reluctantly reliant on Google Maps to find the same pizza place you visited just four months ago.

Crystal Lake’s lack of excitement and stimulation was good for recollecting your thoughts and having a place to just breathe. Happiness was found through the routine of everyday life and simple pleasures, like trading excess garden vegetables with family friends in town. You knew nearly everyone, and it warmed you when people would call out your name to wave hello.

It wasn’t paradise though. Most of your tiny high school graduating class had stayed, trying to fill the few remaining positions at local businesses, while others yoked themselves to jobs in the next town over, the one that had a smattering of chain restaurants and a ghostly outlet mall. They all still had to drive places, and since Bill had passed, your parents were the sole auto mechanics in town. Crystal Lake was never a popular vacation spot, but several families routinely returned to their modest summer homes on the north shore, propping up the dwindling town. You helped around in the shop, freeing up your pa to tow cars when needed. Visitors tended to arrive in vehicles that were not as durable as promised, but that wasn’t their fault.

“After all,” he would say, “people know when they fucked up. A lecture ain’t gon’ get them back on the road, but a hand up might.”

He had never attempted college, nor did he want to, but you were surprised to find him more knowledgeable than some people you ran into on campus. Nothing incensed you more than snooty, middle-class students who widely looked down on “stupid hicks” like your father, as if they had the same opportunities out here and in suburbia. They didn’t know that they, too, were just one unexpected economic crisis away from being in the exact same situation, and you had long since stopped trying to change their minds.

The garage popped up first at the front of the property, closest to the road, and a private driveway led around a corner to the house. Your grandpa, Leon, had built the shop in the 40s with his pa, and ran it with a buddy of his. Grandma Susan had insisted it be built away from the house, as she “couldn’t get her beauty sleep with all that racket.” They had planted several saplings at the back, which had since grown into a beautiful row of oaks that mercifully shielded the house from the cacophony of power tools.

Gravel crunched under the truck’s tires as you turned into the driveway and pulled up behind the shop. A voice called out from the rear arch of the building, weary, but relieved. Matt, your older brother walked out, partially blinded by the patch of 2:00 sunlight though the canopy. You laughed as he shielded his eyes with one hand; the backwards baseball cap was as essential to his uniform as the filthy grey-blue jumpsuit was, but a pair of cheap wraparound sunglasses hung onto the collar swung with his every step, forgotten.

“Hey Matt, catch!”

Resting the paper bag of groceries on your hip, you swung the door of the Ranger closed and tossed the keys to your brother.

“Mom needs these for dinner tonight, so I gotta take this in.” You gestured at the bag you had shifted into both arms. “Everything should be there, but the timing belts. Frank said they were on back order or something; should be back about Tuesday though!” Matt shrugged, after all, what could you do about absent parts.

Patches of sunlight lit the driveway as you walked up towards the house. June was one of your favorite months here, where it was warm even in the shade of the woods, but the sun wouldn’t cook you alive if you were outside for too long. The front door was already unlocked, and two whirlwinds of fluff came barrelling through the door at your knees, and you steadied yourself against the doorframe. Jack and Willow were the two homebody dogs, greeting everyone who walked through the door with the same excitement every time.

The smell of apples and sugar permeated the entire house, and you found a beautifully latticed pie cooling on the countertop as you set the grocery bag down. Taking the groceries out and laying them on the counter, you tore the paper bag in two and tossed the pieces at your pups. The click-click-click of their paws ended as they took the paper into the carpeted family room and began to shred them methodically.

Following them, you found ma in the family room with them, curled up on the couch with her favorite book and a knit blanket. The curtains were half drawn, and her hearing aids lay on the side table underneath the dimmed lamp. Looking up from the worn cover, she smiled. “Thank you for running to the store for me, dear. I could have sworn I remembered everything for your birthday dinner tonight, but now I do. I know your pa gave you today off for your birthday, so I just need you back here ‘round six - six thirty to eat.” You responded by tapping your fingertips against your chin as you signed “thank you,” before raising your left and fluttering your “I love you” towards her before leaving.

The screen door snapped at your heels as you walked through the back door. Past the wood shed, a long picnic table stretched out under a large oak. Nearing it, you took note of the excessive bird droppings and maddeningly long grass underneath that would absolutely tickle your calves. A mental note was made in your head to clean it down another day, and you meandered over to the edge of the woods.

As you walked around, the thought occurred to you that you had never had any real desire to explore your own backyard more. As a child, you spent more time in town, around people, reaching out. Now, you just felt more of a yearning to connect with the home and land you grew up on.

Twenty one was an important birthday, but just like all the ones before, this one felt more like an extended weekend here. Your friends had planned to celebrate, but that wouldn’t be until your trip to Colorado in mid-July. For now, you had the afternoon to yourself and a bottle of sangria that Catie had given you as you were packing for home.

You returned to the house and took your half filled outdoors pack, poured some of the sangria into an empty green Thermos, and added it to the bag of stuff. A small access trail led from the edge of the backyard into the woods, and you set off.

The trail forked at several junctions, every one of them marked with small colored dots spray painted on major trees. It was easier than having to upkeep sign markers as not many people needed to or even really went back here. Blue led down to the kayaks and the lake access, and you remembered racing Matt down the path to the dock as a child. Green led up the hill to the tree fort that Mark, your younger brother, and his friends had built with pa one weekend, back when you could still rest your elbow on his head if he stood still for long enough. Red led to the family plot, more occupied by well loved family pets than ancestors, thankfully. The path headed back to the house was better marked, dirty yellow hi-vis tags nailed to the trees in case you didn’t get back before dark.

Further than that, you didn’t really know what lay beyond. You had never really wondered about it before, something that boggled your mind as you pressed forward. The trail became increasingly overgrown, and you were close to pulling out the brush machete that was in the pack, before you spotted a clearing up ahead. Brambles scraped along your calves as you tried to step over them and your thighs as you tried to skirt past a larger cluster.

The clearing seemed to be an old campsite. A rusting fire pit sat near the center of the clearing; towards the left edge of the woods, and the remains of a small collapsed pavilion covered three or four rotting picnic tables. Rays of sunlight streamed down onto a relatively smooth patch of earth, as perfect a place as any to sit.

Setting the bag down against the ground, you pulled out the rough, thick canvas blanket and shook it open. It covered enough of the ground for you to lay out with the Thermos and the book you were working on. It was a steamy romance novel, one of your truly guilty pleasures. The sangria, though sweet, left you feeling floatier than usual; you were so into the book that you practically breathed in every word off the page, and out here, you didn’t have to hide the blush across your cheeks.

How you wished to come across a strong, kind man like that. The ones you had had the displeasure of meeting ranged from arrogant and abrasive to paranoid and reactionary. All they seemed to want was control, over her friends, her choices, her. No one lasted longer than a few careless hookups; they never seemed to care about your pleasure. They disliked how much time you spent volunteering, with friends, and studying. On the inside, you would give up everything in your life for the right person, but after meeting enough people, you didn’t believe anyone like that existed.

You were so wrapped up in your fantasies that you didn’t notice the man watching you from the treeline. His hand rested on the handle of a sheathed machete that hung from the faded leather work belt at his waist. He had seen plenty of dumb teenagers desecrating the forest that was his home, but you weren’t doing anything close to that. You lay outstretched on a blanket, peaceful, enjoying the beauty of the clearing. Your feet slowly kicked back and forth in the air, flexing your thighs and calves. Every so often, your gaze would float off the page, looking past the book you held; he wondered what you were admiring so passionately.

A ray of sunlight glinted off your hair, illuminating the golden streaks that were typically hidden. The blush across your face captured his attention, and your wistful eyes drew him in to you. To him, you were the epitome of beauty and purity, a sight both new and refreshing in these woods. A strange feeling wound through his body and settled in his groin. It demanded attention, and he pulled at the crotch of his pants, trying to alleviate the tightness there.

When he returned his gaze to you, he found himself standing closer to you than before, no longer hidden by the brush. To his horror, he watched as you looked up from your novel, and noticed him standing there, hand still over his pants zipper.

“Hi there,” you called out, “would you come sit with me? I swear I don’t bite…”

He was transfixed by the sound of your voice, how it cleared his mind of all thoughts of destruction and shame, and stepped closer. Surely, you would find him strange for wearing a mask, or for his marred skin, but you did not flinch as he approached.

Despite your offering of space on the blanket beside you, he instead chose to sit on the very edge of it. Were it not for his dirty hockey mask, you would have bridged the gap between you two with a kiss. You offered him a smile, and showed him the book you were reading. The cover depicted a pretty woman swooning in the arms of a large, rugged man. Between the blush on your face as you held the book, and your eyes looking earnestly up at you, he realized what the feeling in his body was. He needed to please you.

Shifting on the ground, he stretched out his legs, spreading them slightly. The tent that formed in his pants caught your attention; you rose to your knees and moved closer to him. That wasn't enough for him. His large hands wrapped around your waist and pulled you towards him, setting you down on his thigh.

You placed your hands gently against his upper chest and settled on his thigh. Even through the fabric of your shorts and panties, he could feel the heat radiating from your sex. You gave off a distinctly sweet scent that filled his head with a light airiness.

His thigh pressed nicely up against your clit and his hands slid down the sides of your waist to your full hips, and began to gently rock you back and forth. You leaned into the motion, slightly arching your back to tilt your hips into the sweet friction, and your forearms steadied you against his chest. It was broad and soft, and you gasped as you felt the firm muscles hidden underneath. He had picked you up without a hint of strain, as if you were just a soft little toy.

Maybe it was the arousal bubbling in you already from the book and the drink, but you came so easily on his thigh, soaking through the fabric of your shorts. The rocking slowed to a stop as he felt your body shudder involuntarily and your juices seeped through his pants leg.

Adrift in bliss, you barely noticed him undressing everything but his mask. You slipped your shirt off, and had hooked your thumbs into the waistband of your shorts when you noticed him staring at you. Slowly, he tilted his head, and you felt his eyes roam your body, giving you pause. Then, with an incredible amount of ease, he stripped you nude, tearing first the cotton of your shorts, then the delicate lace of your panties off your body. Before you could react, he had set you back down on his leg, sweet nectar drooling from your lower lips onto the cool skin of his thigh.

His hands kneaded your hips as he began to move you again, enjoying how your soft flesh yielded to his touch. You leaned against him, pressing your bare chest to his, which earned you a low hum from underneath his mask. Your hands roamed over his shoulders, feeling the swell of his muscles under your palms. Something jutted firmly against your own thigh with each movement. The shape was unmistakable, but you had never encountered one of this size before. It filled you with incredulity, and the thrill of taking it entirely overpowered any apprehension in your mind about whether you could. Once the thought had occurred to you, it pushed you over the edge again, your fingernails curling into his skin for support. Your breath ghosted over his chest as you sighed gratuitously, partly involuntarily, partly to rouse him further.

It was successful, as he leaned back, taking you with him until you rested entirely on him, your stomach flush with his. His hands roved down your back, settling on your buttocks, massaging them gently. They were capable of doing anything they wanted to you, even hurting you, but their power had been tightly controlled. Carnal hunger swelled within you, driving you to seek more from him.

You straddled his hips, feeling your inner thigh muscles stretch until your knees came to rest lightly against the ground. His hands wrapped around the back of your thighs, one holding you firmly as the other slid between them. His middle finger traced down your vulva and paused at your clit, rubbing until he felt your body shiver and your warm fluids on his fingertip.. Your insides ached to be filled, and with only a breathy "please", his touch crept up towards your entrance. Slowly, he pushed the digit into you, eliciting a gasp of pleasure and surprise at its thickness. It shifted inside you as he repositioned his arm, and you only had a moment to realize it before your heightened sensitivity sent you spiraling into another orgasm.

Feeling you from the inside excited him; his chest heaved as he let out a deep growl of approval. You rested your head on his pectoral muscle, unable to form coherent thoughts as his finger plunged into you, accompanied by distinctly lewd squishing sounds. He worked with the intention of readying you for his cock, slipping in a second finger, then a third as you focused on relaxing your internal muscles.

His fingers slipped out of you, leaving you startlingly empty for a moment before he shifted you lower on his body. The head of his cock nestled itself between your lower lips. Its presence nearly made your heart leap out of your chest. Finally, it was time.

The tip pressed firmly against you and you gasped as your body yielded to his, granting entry to the bulbous, dripping head of his second machete. His hands returned to your hips, holding them firmly as he eased his way into you. When it felt as if you could not take anymore, he would slightly pull back before pushing further in. The movement was similar to the rocking motion he had guided you through earlier, continuing until you had taken him to the hilt.

He let you rest for a moment as you stretched to accommodate his intense girth. When you determined you were ready, half whimpered, half begged, “take me now”.

His shaft curved upward, and with each movement pressed against the sweet spot just underneath your tummy. The pulsing veins added further stimulation with each thrust, teasing your sensitive walls with its texture. Heavy panting became audible from behind your lover’s mask. Even he wasn’t immune to the intensity of base pleasure you gave him. You had broken his stoic demeanor, and reveled in his guttural moans as he thrust into you.

A pulsing knot began to form in your core as he pounded away at you, hips slapping smartly against yours. Desperately, you fought to hold off your orgasm as long as you could, but there were no other thoughts in your mind to cling to as a distraction. His cock was punishing, mercilessly bringing you to orgasm, showing no signs of slowing. Your body twitched and shook; his firm hands on your hips ensured his complete control over you, preventing you from shying away from the stimulation he was hellbent on giving you. Letting your mouth drop open and eyes flutter, you surrendered all control to him.

His breaths grew ragged, heavier, as he felt his own orgasm building up in him. You squeezed him so perfectly, and he reveled in the feeling as you pulsated effortlessly around his shaft. He pulled you down onto him as he gave one last, powerful thrust into you that left you gasping for air. Thick spurts of ejaculate coated the entrance of your uterus, filling you until you were overflowing. His cum mixed with yours, the fluid drooling from between your lips, pooling between your bodies. Your head rested and settled against his chest; for a few remaining moments, your fingertip lazily traced hearts onto his skin as you drifted off into the haze of sleep.

#I'm sorry this took so long #my writing #filth #smut #Kinktober 2020 #aphrodisiac #thigh riding #size difference #Friday the 13th #friday the thirteenth #jason voorhees #jason voorhees x reader #jason x reader #jason vorhees imagine #slasher x reader #slasher imagines #slasher imagine #slasher thirst

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bluemoonpunch · 3 years

Note

I just discovered your website and fell in love with your readings! I love how you give your insights and your approach to the reading. One thing I want to ask is does the group energy reading represent the energy of the group at the time of the reading, or just the energy as the group exists? This is mostly towards the Stray Kids group reading. I'm curious, because as a fan watching them from afar, I think there has been a dynamic shift among them. (1/2)

(2/2)This is not me asking you to do another reading for them though, and I also believe it's not the time yet. They are still in the middle of a shift that is not yet ripened. They are going to join a survival show with big exposure this year too, so they might drastically change as a group after that. On a totally unrelated note though, I let out the ugliest wheeze as you refer to page of wands as the Signature Jungkook' Card.

📕 Referencing:

Stray Kids Group Energy Analysis Part 1 (2018)

Stray Kids Group Energy Analysis Part 2 (2021)

A: Yes, any reading I do should be looked at as more of a "snapshot" of the state of things there at the moment of doing the reading, which is why I always provide the date that the reading was performed as well as when the reading was posted as I can sometimes do bigger readings a week or so in advance. I've done two different group energy readings for Stray Kids and there is a noticeable change between them, but, for example, before the first group reading for them I posted, I had done the reading a couple of times before that and got a lot of negativity which didn't really change that much between those first couple of readings.

It's good to keep in mind that with group energy readings, I look at what the individuals project into the group, which is sometimes a lot different from the general energetic projection of the individuals separate from the group. I then look at how those projections mix together, how they interact with each other, which can vary between conscious level interaction and energetic interaction. Then, after all that, I look at the overall projection, the general ~vibe~ of the group as a whole, how they function as a unit, what they are able to produce physically or energetically through the group projection. It can be quite complex and fluid, but there are many factors to take into consideration, so just because some things seem different doesn't always mean that things have changed in terms of their energetic balance and connection.

Of course, major changes in career or how things are done superficially in relation to their work and routine, as well as any dynamic changes with members leaving or even changes in contracts, can alter the energetic projection of the individuals and change up the overall balance of the group. So, for sure, in the future, I'll probably look into them again if there's a demand for it, but yeah, they do need some time to settle into new things before anything would come up as being different.

XXXX

Q: thank you for the reading!! I'm glad that there has been progress for them personally, that was good to see. I've been getting that vibe from them and it seemed like taehyung's core was no longer split so I'm glad that it actually isn't. I hope that even with the not-so-good energy that they'll be okay. the end of the reading had me feeling kind of 😔 it would make sense if it has something to do with any kind of enlistment. im hoping it's not disbandment. im aware it could happen but it'll still hurt lol i just want them to be happy either way =( but thanks again -Anonymous @ BMP Tumblr

📕 Referencing:

BTS OT7 2021/2022 Outlook Reading

A: Yeah, the reading was a bit of a bummer toward the end, but overall things were relatively balanced for them as individuals on a more personal level. However, I do think we're seeing a lot of that general tension now with how a lot of fans are responding to the new music, specifically their last three releases. I'm sure that's stirring up some debate and conversation behind the scenes both with the group and the company overall. So, it seems like one of those things where work-life can be a bit stressful going forward, but personal work and personal life for them can be relatively smooth and enjoyable, which can be more rewarding in the long run.

XXXX

Q: oh wow, I did not expect ur 2022 outlook to hit me that hard lol, I was hoping for something more positive for BTS but on the other hand they have been doing all this for over a decade so it's natural for it to finally come to close. still feeling emotional tho hahah -Anonymous @ BMP Tumblr

A: Same, honestly. 😥 But yeah, it tends to be a natural progression for a lot of artists that get that big, almost as if their careers grow past them and they just ride the wave the rest of the way. Still, a fascinating thing to watch play out over the years, definitely something to appreciate and be proud of.

XXXX

Q: love love love your dream and georgenotfound reading! I agree dream's reading is especially interesting, and an individual analysis on either of them would be amazing!! -Anonymous @ BMP Tumblr

Q: This might sound crazy but I read your tarot reading on DNF and remembered you mentioning Cecil? I'm watching their geoguessr stream happening live rn and just saw them go past a sign that said Cecil. I thought that was a funny coincidence -Anonymous @ BMP Tumblr

Q: Hi! All of your readings are so well written and I loved your reading you did on Dream and George and I was wondering if you could do a reading on Dream. You mentioned maybe doing one. -@glimmercherr

📕 Referencing:

How do GeorgeNotFound and Dream connect?

A: Yes, most likely I'll be doing an Elemental Alignment reading for Dream at some point and maybe I'll include some stuff about his birth chart as he has some underlying cosmic imprinting that I think is really interesting. And yeah, coincidences like that are my favorite, just the little things that pop up that seem to tie things together in a funny way, lol. I'm sure there's always some underlying meaning to it somehow.

XXXX

Can you do a mini reading on jimin and jungkook? Whether it’s more equal now? Idk maybe because I am a Pisces I have been able to read other people’s vibes (I call them ) better I am no expert but I feel jimin thinks of jungkook as like an individual grown-up but still would always see himself as a protector kinda like powder siblings too? Also because this doesn’t show up consciously Like they always seem like equal and above sand all in behind the scenes too? Can you explain or clarify if I am right? -Anonymous @ BMP Tumblr

A: Yes, things are definitely more equal now. There's a very interesting progression for them that plays out energetically and even as deeply as on a soul level, lining up with their personal development and separation from the Soul Body. Of course, with Jimin being older and having had known Kook for so long, I have no doubt that no matter what, some part of him would always feel protective of Kook, the only difference is that Kook is in a headspace now where he can be protective back, be more of an equal support for Jimin right back. And, I agree, behind the scenes when they're not performing and not "in character," they can definitely display more of that equalizing push and pull, more so reflecting their energetic connection on a conscious and physical level, which tends to show a very strong soul bond that is being supported on both sides.

If you haven't already, I recommend reading these readings in order as they can really display that development between them over the past few years:

Relationship Reading for Park Jimin and Jeon Jungkook P1 (2018)

Relationship Reading for Park Jimin and Jeon Jungkook P2 (2020)

The Internal Alignment of Park Jimin (2020)

How do Jimin and Kook connect? (2021)

#bmpasks #stray kids #bts #jikook #jimin #jungkook #georgenotfound #dream #dreamnotfound #dnf

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gifted-burnout-archive · 4 years

Text

The Games We Play

1. Good News, Ruined.

Word Count: 7.8K+

Author’s Note: I had a flood of inbox requests surrounding Luke Patterson x Reader, enemies to lovers/fake dating/all the good stuff, and decided it was too good not to make something bigger. this chapter was sooo fun to write, and obviously with the whole thing being in an AU universe, I get to change a bunch of shit without consequence... So thank you for reading, I hope you love it, this is my nonsense.

Warning: none.

masterlist | taglist

Parents tend to assume things of their children, the practise usually implemented by those who believe ignorance is bliss, especially when it’s easier to assume your kid is studying, or asleep in bed, or catching up on their reading list. Why worry about what your kids are up to after hours when you could share a bottle of wine and fall asleep on the living room sofa watching some shitty Hallmark movie? Enjoying the perfect ideal, even if it isn’t, in fact, real.

It was this sort of behaviour from the likes of Luke Patterson’s parents that led to him sneaking out pretty much every night of summer.

This was, of course, on top of lies about study groups and volunteering work and classical guitar lessons with his school teacher during the day, and it had been going on a lot longer than just the summer. But could anyone really blame the boy when he once again climbed out his bedroom window that last night of the summer, armed with his guitar on his back as he grabbed his bike and started off in the warm August air?

The soft breeze rushed through Luke’s hair and sent his flannel overshirt billowing behind him as he rode down his street, destined for the other side of town, to the other reality he had created without his parents’ knowledge, the world glowing under the last traces of another beautiful sunset. The reds and oranges gave way to tinges of green and the endless expanse of midnight blue the later hours welcomed, street lamps slowly flickering to life as shadows grew and Luke took a hard turn left onto an underpass, pedalling as fast as he could.

He was already late, he was usually late, but that night his mom and dad had demanded a family meal before he began his senior year, something about tradition or memory-making he had been too preoccupied to listen to. His year wasn’t going to be great because of family albums over his dad’s famous chili, though it was very good chili: no, his year was going to be great because of the people waiting for him at the end of his bike ride, and the news that waited with them.

Luke’s summer hadn’t been spent studying like he told his parents, and it hadn’t been spent the way many of his classmates enjoyed their time off school. Luke’s summer, and the majority of his Junior year before, had been spent in a garage in the LA suburbs, one that belonged to the Molinas. He had spent every spare moment there writing, practising, rehearsing, because Luke’s end goal in life was nothing like his parents had planned for him:

Luke was going to be a Rockstar, and the way to that wasn’t school. It was Julie and the Phantoms.

As he pulled up to the familiar residence about fifteen minutes later, legs aching from the high-speed ride over, Luke couldn’t help but smile. Ray and Carlos were out on the porch playing a game of cards under string lights, and it looked like Mr Molina was losing quite spectacularly to his ten-year old son.

“Hi Mr Molina!” Luke called with a wave, distracting Ray for long enough that Carlos managed to sneak a peak at his dad’s hand and plan accordingly.

“Luke, it’s Ray. Please.” Ray corrected, for the one hundredth time, but Luke was a polite kid, and while he wasn’t one for following his own parents’ rules, he was too respectful to ever start his friend’s dad by his first name. “Everyone’s in the garage, they’re waiting for you before they check the website.” Ray called over, and Luke nodded with a bright smile, waving a hurried hello and goodbye to Carlos before rushing towards the garage at the far side of the house, pulling off the straps of his guitar case and bringing it to his front.

The front pocket was stuffed full of scraps of paper, possible lyrics for new band music, which was required since they had managed to get on the YouTube trending page a few months before, and had begun playing the LA music circuit with high levels of success. The band had only been formed, properly at least, for the last year, and their sudden success was calling for them to be scooped up by a record label any day now.

That’s what the team were congregating for that night, Luke entering the converted garage, their studio, to find his bandmates huddled on the couch with their closest friends. In the couch’s centre was Reggie, Julie and Alex: to the blonde’s right was his boyfriend Willie, to Reggie’s right was his girlfriend Kayla, and Flynn paced on the other side of the coffee table, only coming to a halt as six pairs of eyes came up to find Luke fixing his hair from its windswept state after biking across the city.

“Where the Hell have you been?!” Flynn exclaimed, wide eyed and all gestures. She was a Junior like Julie, and perhaps the band’s number one fan: it made sense, she was kind of their manager. “The site is going live any minute now, and we’ve been waiting almost an hour for you to show up!” She hollered, Luke coming forward and placing a hand on her shoulder, the younger girl scowling at him as he did, but she stopped talking, allowing the boy a word in.

“My parents wanted a family meal, I got here as soon as I could.” He explained to the anxious faces, his eyes travelling down to the laptop sat on the coffee table that they all seemed rather focused on. “Is this it?” He asked, and Julie quickly nodded, turning the laptop, displaying a countdown on a website, to face Luke.

48 seconds… He had arrived in the nick of time.

“Will you read it first?” Julie asked in a quiet voice, Flynn taking the girl’s space on the couch behind her, squishing herself between Reggie and Alex. “You take bad news best…” It wasn’t actually true, but it seemed like Luke had been nominated for the task of finding out whether they had hit the jackpot, and looking at his friends’ all tucked onto the three-seater couch, Luke couldn’t bring himself to refuse.

“Alright.” He said with a curt nod, taking a seat at the opposite side of the coffee table as Julie sat herself back down, now on Flynn’s lap as the two girls hugged onto one another in fear.

23 seconds…

“This could be it…” Reggie muttered; his hand interlocked with Kayla’s. She and Willie had come along as emotional support for their boyfriends, and it was a good call: Alex was as pale as a sheet, and Reggie looked like he might vomit. “Imagine… If we’re in this competition, if we qualify… Guys, we could be signing with Fall Down.” He continued, the seconds ticking away as a silence filled the air after the bassist’s words. He was right, sure, but it was too hopeful.

The competition was country-wide, and thousands of bands had sent in their entries. It was quite literally a one in a 100,000 chance they would make it, that they would be one of the twenty bands picked for the competition.

After all, the tagline was quick to remind that ‘only the best’ would get into the Fall Down Records’ Battle of the Bands.

“3… 2…” Luke counted down, and as countdown finally hit zero, Luke refreshed the page.

Instead of the list Luke and his friends had expected to appear, instead he was greeted by a video, and the boy quickly pressed play, turning up the volume to let it play around the room.

“A very big hello from Fall Down HQ in Los Angeles!” The laptop spoke, and Luke looked up at six confused faces, quickly adjusting the laptop and sitting himself on the table so he could watch along with his friends. “I’m Trevor Wilson, and I’ve been given the honour of sharing the Fall Down Records’ Battle of the Bands line-up with all of you, across the world. But first, a quick reminder of the rules.

“This competition looks for the very best young artists in the US, the twenty top finalists getting a chance to join in our televised six-week competition. Each week our contestants are given a new theme to perform for, and each week three bands are eliminated by judges’ and audience vote, until the Final Four Battle it out for glory.” The video explained, but this wasn’t new information to the seen friends watching with desperate hope. “And the grand prize? The victorious band will be leaving with not only a multi-album record deal with Fall Down Records, but their very own World Tour and $1 million for each band member! I cannot make this up, and I can’t stress more when I say that the band winning this competition are going to be changing the history of music, with Fall Down Records and me, Trevor Wilson, by their side.

“Now, enough of me talking. Let’s get to what you’re all here for, the big announcement. Thanks to everyone who submitted their auditions, don’t give up hope on just yet… But viewers, I give you your top 20.” The video disappeared, the website suddenly coming to life with the full list of finalists, and Luke jumped into action to begin scrolling down as everyone leaned forward, instinctively, Luke’s finger moving as fast as it could past other acts.

Finalists came from all across the country, from all music genres: they scrolled past Idols, a country trio from Nashville; Rallico, an R&B group from New York; Everest, the folk-pop band from Montana. Luke’s finger continued to scroll, through videos and bios on each of the bands, and he counted as he went through to himself. 11, 12, 13…

“STOP!” Kayla shrieked suddenly, Luke moving his hand from the mousepad in surprise, his eyes finally focusing on the screen, the haze of scrolling quickly subsiding. He had to blink once, then twice, just to be sure, glancing back at the shocked faces of his friends beside him, making sure they were all seeing the same thing.

NUMBER 15: JULIE AND THE PHANTOMS. FROM LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA.

“Oh my God…” Alex breathed out, the first to speak as he clutched onto Willie’s hand, and one by one, the faces on the couch went from looks of worry to ones of ecstatic joy.

“Oh my God!” Julie yelped, jumping off of Flynn’s lap and flapping her hands, unsure what to do for a moment, but Reggie quickly stood up as well, and the pair embraced in a tight hug. It took a few moments for the rest of the room to process, but the moment everyone had…

Carlos and Ray heard the screaming from their cosy spot at the front of the house, whooping and yells of triumph echoing across the cul-de-sac as the kids celebrated their achievement.

The hugs and bouncing and complete inability to stay still probably lasted a solid seven minutes, and by the time Luke was coming down from the high of the news, Julie was disappearing round the corner to tell her dad and brother, Reggie was spinning Kayla in his arms, and Alex had found himself in a rather heated kiss with Willie. His eyes went back to the laptop, and he removed himself from a hug with Flynn to sit back on the couch, scrolling back up to the top of the finalist website page.

“What are you doing man?” Reggie asked, Kayla jumping off his back and taking the bassist’s hand as they walked over to Luke, the boy pressing play on the first of 19 videos, the audition tapes of the other competitors.

“We’re up against all these other groups, the competition starts in a few days… I want to see what we’re up against.” Luke explained, the words pulling Alex and Willie over to the laptop too. The five pressed play on the first video, Luke leaning over and turning the volume up as high as it would go as the first band’s music began to play. “Willie, can you go get Julie?” The raven-haired boy nodded, squeezing Alex’s hand one last time in celebration before rushing towards the Molina residence to collect Julie and Flynn.

“I can’t believe we actually managed this…” Alex scoffed in disbelief, running a hand through his hair and glancing over at his friends with the brightest of smiles. To think, the three had met at the age of 10, that all those days of mindless rehearsal led them to Julie, which led them to this?

“You guys deserve it.” Kayla commented with a smile, glancing down at her watch with a frown. “Shit, I forgot about curfew…” She muttered, pressing a kiss to Reggie’s cheek. “I need to get home; I’ll give Willie a lift too. See you tomorrow babe?” She asked Reggie, who nodded fast as Willie came back with Julie and Flynn. “Curfew, Skater Boy.” She reminded Willie; whose eyes widened before muttering a soft curse to himself.

“Right.” He sighed, waving a quick goodbye to his boyfriend and friends before slipping out the door with Kayla. Flynn watched them go, giving Julie and quick hug.

“This seems to be a band member meeting now, and I need a ride. See you tomorrow, alright?” Flynn asked, and Julie nodded, the pair sharing another hug before Flynn too disappeared through the garage doors, leaving the band to themselves.

There was a comfortable silence, as they all looked at one another, as they all came to terms with the sheer insanity of what was happening. Out of thousands upon thousands… Out of millions of applicants, Julie and her Phantoms had managed to snag a spot in the country’s biggest competition, managed to get themselves a chance at a record deal, at a world tour, at millions of dollars…

“So,” Julie said with a grin at her three best friends on the couch, the boys looking to her for their next move. “These other contestants…” She made her way over to the couch, sitting herself between Luke and Alex quite comfortably and taking charge of the laptop from Luke, who was happy to hand over control. “Why don’t we break this down?”

“Well,” Alex spoke up as he peered over Julie’s shoulder, the girl clicking on the second contestants’ audition tape, the sound of soft banjo filling the air. “If we want to win… We need to be looking for the biggest threat across the board, not just in one category.” He said, his friends looking over in slight surprise. It was undoubtable that of the guys, Alex was the smart one, but his smarts weren’t something he used very often to begin with. He coughed and ran a hand through his hair, sitting up a little straighter. “I just mean, the competition is a new theme every week, right? Well, we’re a band with a pretty wide range. I mean, Reggie with his banjo is just a start.” The blonde gestured across the couch, the compliment causing his friend to grin and wave. “If we’re optimistic here, planning the hypothetical that we make it past week one-”

“The band that’s going to be the hardest to beat is the one with range, like us.” Luke finished for his friend, clicking onto contestant number 3, the audition tapes only 90 seconds long, and gesturing to Reggie. “Get a pen and paper, we need to start writing notes.” He decided, and Reggie pouted.

“Why do I have to do it?” He asked, and Julie let out a laugh.

“Luke taking notes would be a waste of time, his handwriting is worse than a doctor’s, and Alex and I have thinking to do.” She explained simply, but it was enough for Reggie to grumble his way over to a dresser on the far side of the room they kept stocked with stationery in case inspiration struck, coming back over and sitting on the ground, getting into position to write.

“Back to contestant 1.” Julie instructed, the four beginning their first bout of research.

It was well after midnight when the band were only just reaching the end of their list. Alex was pacing as he listened to the audition tapes of their competitors over and over again, Luke and Julie both huddled over the laptop as Reggie jotted down notes.

They all should have gone to bed over an hour ago, what with their first day of school that morning, the last first day of school for the guys, but there was too much excitement, too much energy buzzing through them, and this research was the best way to channel it.

Where other subjects were not their strongest suit, everyone of the kids in that room excelled at music: not just playing it, but understanding it. This was a competition, and from what extensive knowledge they shared on Fall Down Records, this was not about looking for one-hit wonders or kids with untapped potential. It was about finding stars already in the making and pushing them forward.

This was good news for the four kids, and bad news for some of their opposition. It became clear in the first half of the tapes who was and who was not going to last long in the competition, a clear divide that didn’t seem like it would change any time soon. Alex was walking around the room that night trying to figure out just who would be going home in the weeks to come, and where Julie and the Phantoms would fall into the grand scheme of things.

“Final video.” Julie announced, the blonde looking over and deciding it would be best to sit himself down, at least for the watch through. Reggie too seemed intrigued as to who their last challenger would be. As Julie clicked her way onto the video, she was confused for a moment when presented with a black screen, wondering if she had accidentally turned her computer off.

Suddenly, a noise, unlike any Luke or Julie or the guys had heard in the last few hours of investigation. Accompanied by bongo drums and maracas, they were all expecting some sort of island breeze music, quite honestly, and Luke was about to pause and check the band’s name once more when the odd noise was suddenly replaced by a much more familiar one: an electric guitar coming in with the drums. An image finally flickered to screen, unlike the other videos of live performances across the country or awkward homemade recording sessions, this band had opted for an old, grainy video quality, a sepia coloured moving picture of hands beginning to play along on the guitar.

“All that I want is to wake up fine. Tell me that I’m alright, that I ain’t gonna die. And all that I want is a hole in the ground, you can tell me when it’s alright for me to come out.” The first few seconds were enough to leave jaws hanging, and though he would later deny it, Luke’s was on the floor.

The sound was so different, such a bizarre mix of percussion and pop and rock, with such a happy sound despite the bleak lyrics. It was impressive, to say the least, and suddenly the picture before them flashed away to reveal the band on a white stage, all dressed in block colours, and Luke scanned over the set up: they had a guy on drums who was dressed from head to toe in blue; a girl in all green on a beatmaker surrounded by the odd percussion they had heard at the song’s beginning, the funny noise revealed to be a marimba; the second guy was on guitar, though it wasn’t quite clear if he was lead or rhythm, and adorned in orange; and then finally…

“Hard Times.” The three other bands members sang, introducing the chorus for their front woman.

“Gonna make you wonder why you even try. Hard times, gonna take you down and laugh when you cry. These lives, and I still don’t know how I even survive. Hard Times, hard times.” She sang in a vision of block colour red, in a short tennis skirt and crop top beneath an oversized blazer, a pair of opaque red cat-eye sunglasses perched on the edge of her nose. The hands from the opening shots of the guitar playing had been her, the instrument a bright red that matched the outfit she wore, and Luke quickly realised that everybody’s instruments matched their clothing colour.

“Marimba…” Luke heard Reggie mutter under the music, only for them to be silenced by the chorus’ final line.

“And I gotta get to rock bottom!” The distortion on her voice as she half sang, half yelled the line was jarring and enchanting and Luke had to let out a bated breath as she continued, lifting the mic off its stand and walking to the boy in orange, passing the guitar duties over to him as she began to sing again, the camera focusing in on the girl in green’s ability on the beatmaker, her fingers dancing over the buttons as they brought in the bridge.

“Tell my friends I’m coming down. We’ll kick it when I hit the ground.” Another drastic change to this soft head voice, paired with the instrumental making it feel like, for a moment, they had all been sucked into a dream. “Tell my friends I’m coming down. We’ll kick it when I hit the ground… When I hit the ground. When I hit the ground. When I hit the ground.” The final note hung for a moment in the air, everything else going silent to let it resonate as the singer hung onto the boy in orange by the shoulder, her hand rising up to pinch his cheek before the final chorus hit.

“Hard Times.”

“Gonna make you wonder why you even try. Hard times, gonna take you down and laugh when you cry. These lives, and I still don’t know how I even survive hard times. Hard times.” The whole band sang the final chorus, their front woman spinning across the stage and singing in harmony with the girl in green, red’s voice riffing on the last notes as the beatmaker brought the snippet of music brought to a close, the screen going black as the music continued to came to a halt. “And I gotta get to rock bottom!”

And there it was… Their main competition.

Luke couldn’t drag his eyes away from the black screen, still trying to get over what he had just heard: while he was more partial to the music he made with his own band, there was undeniable star power in just that song, and four talented musicians to accompany it… Not to mention their lead singer.

He didn’t think he’d go into the contest attracted to a rival band member.

“They used… A marimba?! A marimba…” Reggie exclaimed finally, the first to talk, or rather yell, the leather jacket-clad boy jumping from his seat with his arms stretched in front of him in exasperation. The majority of their night had provided information on bands that gave them a challenge for first place, but confidence they might just grab it. And now? Now they had more than competition, but a threat to the biggest break of their lives.

“Electra Heart…” Alex read the band name out loud, frowning a little as he said it, something about the words seeming familiar. “I feel like I’ve heard of these guys before.”

“Maybe because they’re from California as well?” Julie suggested, pointing to the end of their title card as Contestant 20, stating the band were from San Diego, just two hours away from where they all sat.

“Watch out.” Reggie muttered, turning to face his friends once more and waving a hand at Luke. “Patterson’s smitten.” He muttered, the words knocking a frown on Luke’s face as he straightened up and closed over the laptop, putting the voice of the mystery girl to the back of his mind.

“First off, I’m not. And second? This is a good thing!” Luke exclaimed, though it was clear to everyone he was changing the subject. “The contest starts in two weeks, and we have the upper hand. We submitted Bright as our audition song, and it’s great, but that wasn’t even our best performance of it! We literally ran out of time to submit something better!” He reminded them all, drawing their minds back to the start of the summer. They had done their very best to piece together the audition tape, but Julie had suddenly gotten sick and they lost a week or so of their schedule. They ended up submitting a draft version, and still got in. “That is probably their top tier, and we know we can match and beat that! Right now, they’ll think they have this in the bag, when they don’t.” He got to his feet, walking over and hooking an arm around Reggie’s neck. “We’re going into this prepared, and ready to blow the show’s socks off, yeah?”

“Yeah!” His bandmates chorused, Julie standing up and prompting Alex to do the same, the four congregating in the centre of the studio. She was the first to hold out her hand.

“Legends on three.” She called; smiles shared amongst the band.

“One.” Reggie went first.

“Two.” Alex next.

“Three.” Luke finished, four hands stacked atop each other, four teammates ready to try and take on the impossible.

Sleep didn’t come to Luke that night.

He opted to cycle home despite the late hour, and clambered into bed at around 3 am while Reggie opted to stay overnight in the studio, too lazy to take himself home, not that it was an uncommon occurrence. Since Alex has started living with the Molinas, Luke and Reggie found themselves crashing more and more often.

But Luke cycled home anyway, mainly because he wanted the chance to think in private, to be alone as he planned their success now the competition slot was confirmed. It was the opportunity of their lifetime: he wasn’t going to give it up without a fight. No matter how beautiful the lead singer of Electra Heart was.

She weighed on his mind from the moment he saw her well past sunrise, and as the light flooded in through Luke’s curtains with the boy getting no sleep, he opted for a shower before his parents got up for work, and hopefully getting to avoid talking with them as much as possible until Kayla came by to pick him up, always with Julie, Alex and Reggie in tow.

That was another thing: how would he be suddenly breaking the news of his rock band on global television to his parents, who have yet to find out how he really spends his free time?

As he stood under the hot water that morning, washing away the adrenaline and sweat from the night before, he couldn’t help but hum the girl’s song: why was it so catchy? He tried to rinse it away with his fatigue and the aches in his legs from the biking to and from Julie’s, but it wasn’t budging, and neither was her face. In an act of defeat, Luke clambered out the showered, and shoved his earbuds in as he dried himself off and got dressed for the day, drowning out her voice in his head with the loudest music his phone had available.

As Luke continued about his morning, shuffling around the house as he sorted his laundry for the week and got his bag ready for classes, it was only once his dad yanked on of the earphones out of his ear that Luke figured he might have had the music too loud.

“Lucas, you play that music any louder you’ll be deaf by year’s end.” His father muttered, gesturing for his son to take a seat at the table. Luke glanced at the clock: it would be another twenty minutes before Kayla showed up in the car, and he decided it wasn’t the morning to start an argument.

“What’s up?” He asked, reaching over and grabbing an apple as his father sighed across the table, cradling a cup of coffee in his hands. Luke took a bite, the flavour and scent filling his senses, only for that damned ear-worm to return.

“Luke, your mother and I are worried…” His dad began, and Luke frowned. It wasn’t the first time they’d had this conversation, it wouldn’t be the last. His parents had been set on sending him to college, or some sort of naval academy by Christmas, and Luke had continued to adamantly refuse. His grades were still doing well, perhaps thanks to the amount he copied off of Alex, and with his plan being the band anyway, it’s not like he needed school that badly anyway. “We want you to explore your options, to at least give some thought to your future.” His dad continued, and Luke took another bite of his apple, the song rattling in his head.

“I’m just fine.” Luke assured with an insincere smile, getting up from the table and heading back towards his room to grab his school bag. Perhaps he would just walk further down the road, get picked up on the Main Street.

“Son, come on now.” His father was a quiet, stern man, so while the words alone would have been a plea, the tone twisted them to an order, and Luke stopped just before his bedroom. “There’s an open day in a few weeks, all we ask is you go to it. No commitment, just attendance.” He continued, and Luke glanced back, shrugging.

“If you’ll get off my back about it then yeah.” He conceded with a roll of his eyes, quickly opening his room door and slamming it shut behind him, ending the conversation before his father ventured into small talk.

He waited in there, picking at his apple as he hummed the song from the night before, until a horn sounded outside, Luke then scooping up his school bag and rushing out the house as fast as he could, shouting a quick ‘goodbye’ as he slipped round the front door and closed it firmly, letting out a heavy breath.

He took a moment to compose himself before starting a light jog down his front lawn’s pathway to the car waiting at the bottom of the drive, chock full of his friends. Reggie was driving, Kayla and Julie sat tucked together on the front bench of the old vintage, while the back seat of the convertible was occupied by Alex, Flynn and Nick, who waved Luke over to the space free beside him.

“You know Kayla, the more people we pack in this car, the more likely it is your dad takes his car back.” Luke commented as he jumped into his tight spot in the back, sharing a fist bump with Nick as Reggie sped off in the direction of school.

“My dad gave up rights to this car the moment I started filling the tank, Patterson.” Kayla called back, Luke smiling and letting his head loll back as they raced along the back streets towards school. He could say he never felt more at home than with his friends, in moments like this.

“Like, shit, I forgot to congratulate you.” Nick called over the chatter in the car, garnering his friend’s attention with a dimples smile and tousled hair from the wind. Despite only the year separating them, Luke thought of Nick as a little brother, and the comment made him grin and pat Nick’s shoulder.

“Congratulate me when we win Battle of the Bands.” Luke corrected, leaning closer to make sure the front seat didn’t hear his next words. “And I’ll congratulate you once you finally ask out Julie, alright?” He posed the offer, Nick’s cheeks turning bright red. Luke chuckled it away, sharing a glance with Apex from across the backseat.

When they all got thrown into the same music class three years ago, it was pretty clear to Alex and Luke that Nick likes Julie, and vice versa. They had been trying to set the pair up ever since, with minimal levels of success. But with the impossible seeming to occur everyday now, who knew what might happen?

Reggie sped through a stop sign and near drifted round the corner into the parking lot, sending everyone in the car but Kayla grabbing for stability, whether it were the dashboard of the door or the back of seats, but they didn’t hit anything, and Reggie pulled into the assigned parking space the car had kept for the last year or so, right in front of the school quad.

“I can’t believe it’s the first day of our last year…” Alex remarked as everyone gathered their things and clambered out the car. They had become a collective over the past few years, a friendship group not easily frayed or broken, and as they walked in almost a clump across the school lawn, with Julie in the lead, it was quite difficult to not notice the rest of the school’s eyes resting on them.

Word must have gotten out about their good luck.

“What are you guys going to do without us when we’re gone?” Reggie asked with a grin, his arm sling over his girlfriend’s shoulder as the pair sauntered in the group’s centre, and Flynn turned back from her place beside Julie.

“Maybe get some school work done for once.” She clapped back, earning a chorus of chuckles and tones of agreement from amongst the group.

Luke was hanging back in the rear, taking a moment just to observe his friends, a habit he had gotten into over the summer: this was the last year they would, theoretically, all be together, and Luke had no intention of wasting any of his time with them.

“Hey, uh, Luke!” A voice interrupted his thoughts, the brown-haired boy spinning on the spot to come face to face with one of his classmates. She wasn’t someone he knew very well, granted, but he still smiled and took a step towards her, laying down the infamous charm.

“What can I do you for?” He asked with a dopey grin, which later turned to a smirk when she blushed profusely at his words.

“I was just… uh… Congratulations! On the contest, everyone’s talking about it.” She paused, rummaging in her bag and pulling out a slip of paper, Luke pulling a hand out of his pocket to accept the offering. “If you ever, I don’t know, if you’re ever free and wanna go out for a coffee or something…” She trailed off, and Luke examines the name and phone number.

“Well, Sara,” He read her name out, looking up at her as he spoke. “I’ll send you a text, maybe?” He suggested, taking a few steps back when he heard the sound of Julie shouting his name.

“Uh, yeah! Cool! See you around!” Sara beamed, waving him off as Luke turned to catch up with his friends, the interaction boosting his ego a little more as he went into day.

In fact, by the time lunch had come around, Luke’s day had been rather jammed packed with words of praise and offers of phone numbers, and it seems like his band mates had been experiencing the same thing. When Luke arrived at lunch after a gruelling lesson with Mr Norbert, glad that the rest of his day would consist solely of music, he found his friends at their preferred lunch table, each with a collection of notes falling from their pockets.

“Am… Do I need to act more gay? I thought people knew I was gay.” As Luke sat down, Alex asked the question to the table, Willie’s hand rubbing his boyfriend’s shoulders.

“What do you mean?” Luke asked as he set down his tray and took a bite of his sandwich.

“Four girls… Four girls have tried to ask me out today! And I mean, how am I supposed to respond to that? Did they not know I was gay in the first place?” He questioned again, head frantically searching for an answer as the boy’s anxiety began to build, only to be wheeled by Willie’s lip pressing to Alex’s cheek.

“Join the club, guys.” Carrie spoke up from the end of the table, a vision in pink as she and Julie shared notes from a previous class. “I’ve literally been receiving Instagram DMs for years, all the Dirty Candi girls have. The amount of guys that think they can ‘make you straight’.” The girl involuntarily shivered and let out a sigh. “This is just the beginning for you four. The amount of fan mail thanks to the competition will be huge.”

The Dirty Candi girls had been a group as long as Julie and the Phantoms has, but their music was so different there was no need for competition. They all just sort of became friends instead, and when it became clear the girls wouldn’t be allowed to audition for the Battle of the Bands because of Carrie’s dad’s position at Fall Down Records, there was a mixture of sadness and relief. No hard feelings were had, and no hard feelings would happen, because the last thing the friends wanted was to be compared with one another. They were all talented.

Plus, Dirty Candi performed on Ellen, so if anything they were currently the more well-known.

“In other news.” Flynn spoke up, pulling her eyes away from her phone to address the group. “There’s a new transfer student.” She announced, and glanced over at the clock on the far side of the cafeteria. “We should all be meeting them in about half an hour.” She said decidedly.

“How do you know?” Reggie asked with a mouth full of pasta. He had a semi-circle of clutter around him as he tried to eat and copy homework all at the same time, the boy quite aware of how lucky he was to have better-prepared friends than him.

“Mrs Harrison was our free period supervisor this morning. She got a call, disappeared from class and didn’t come back for twenty minutes.” Nick spoke up on Flynn’s behalf, the girl turned back to her phone to feverishly type away at the screen. “Mrs H has to welcome all the new music students.” He added quickly, glancing across the table as Julie nodded in agreement.

“They’re a senior, or we would have seen them in classes this morning.” The band’s lead singer stacked on top of the Juniors’ theory, and Carrie quickly got her attention back to point out a mistake she had made on the maths coursework.

“New students come in every year.” Luke remarked, brushing off the fascination with a wave of his hand. “Maybe we should talk a bit more about, oh you know, the fact that we’re going to be playing to millions of people on a televised game show in a fortnight!” Luke exclaimed, earning grins from around the table as they all got that hit of realisation again. It had felt like a dream the night before.

“Well, I don’t wanna spill secrets…” Carrie started, all eyes quickly on her. “But with dad hosting the show, there are some responsibilities the Wilson family are taking on… Like an acoustic jam session for the competing bands to meet each other.” She revealed with a squeak, taking a hold of Julie’s arm with excitement. “And don’t even get me started on the Halloween bash the Record Label will be holding…” She added, and Kayla hit Carrie’s arm playfully.

“You keep this up and you’ll rig the competition, C.” Kayla reminded with a meaningful smile, and the pink-themed girl rolled her eyes, but fell quiet nonetheless.

The conversation steered away from the competition for the rest of the lunch period, the friends slowly beginning the walk to music as eyes watched them pass. It wasn’t something any of them acknowledged, well, apart from Carrie on occasion, but they were the popular kids.

It was a mixture of charm, friendliness and musical success, but they had become the ‘it’ kids of Los Feliz High. None of them particularly disliked the role they had been prescribed either: the more people they knew, the more people would hear their music, the more people they could share their passion with. And it was nice, too, sitting at the top of the food chain. They had all been at the bottom at some point in time, and knowing their influence on their peers was a positive gave them all a little bit of pride.

“Quickly, quickly!” Mrs H called from the doorway down the hall, ushering the group to hurry toward the classroom, Julie and Luke in the lead as the nine kids shuffled through the door of the band room, Mrs H closing the door behind them. Their teacher quickly checked through the window to make sure no-one was on approach.

“Mrs H, is everything ok?” Julie asked, taking a step forward, and their teacher nodded quickly.

“I have a favour to ask. We’ve got a new student joining. I didn’t want to ask with other kids listening in but.” Mrs H paused, and relief flossed the faces of her students. There wasn’t any danger, just a request they usually got. “Could you make her feel at home? I. She’s been admitted to the program without an audition, I have no clue of her ability. I just don’t want her being overwhelmed, turned away again.”

“Anything for you, Mrs Harrison.” Luke chipped in, their teacher smiling and letting out a breath.

“Thank you… Right, get yourselves seated, we can have a chat more about this competition during second period, I’ll go fetch her from the office.” Mrs H explained, rushing out the door as their classmates filed in, the room becoming a hub of activity rather quickly as kids picked up their instruments and began tuning.

“How does someone get into the music program without auditioning?” Reggie asked, though there was no malice, just naïve curiosity. Unfortunately, his friends didn’t know how to answer him. It was a question they all had on their minds as they got themselves comfy in the room’s far corner, Luke collecting his guitar and Reggie’s bass from one of the storage cupboards, the pair nodding Julie over to the piano to help them tune the guitars.

It was Julie sat herself down at the grand piano that the door suddenly swung open, Principal Brown coming into the room in a dazzling magenta pantsuit.

“Good afternoon students.” She greeted, receiving a chorus of ‘good afternoon Principal’ back. “As some of you already know, we have a new transfer student joining us for her senior year, and she will be studying alongside you all part-time at the school’s music program.” The principal prefaced, quickly gesturing outside the door for Mrs Harrison to enter along side their new classmate.

“Is that…” Julie whispered, receiving a nod from Reggie and Luke.

The girl from the video last night, the front woman for Electra Heart, stood in their music classroom’s doorway, dressed like a model off a runway, a cigarette perched behind one ear. She was wearing a pair of red plaid trousers, paired with black heels and a corset style crop top, an oversized jean jacket thrown on top, all matched to a pair of sunglasses perched on the end of her nose. Her hair was in a bun, showing off the cigarette behind her ear and a collection of piercing along the earlobe. Her nails were all painted the same colour of red as her trousers, which matched the colour on her lips, which matched the outer corners of her eyeshadow.

“Perhaps you can introduce yourself?” Principal Brown asked, she too noticing the cigarette and plucking it from the girl’s ear, throwing it in the nearby trash can. The girl seemed unfazed by her actions, eyes scanning over the room until they landed on the piano, and the band members stood around it.

Luke couldn’t help but stare back, trying his best to keep his jaw from going slack. How was she here? How did she look better in person? And why in the name of God was Luke overcome with a sense of nostalgia as they looked each other over. There was something other worldly about her, something that made Luke feel like he was younger again. It was the eyes, that raked over his body as she smirked, eyes Luke had known to be timid and frantic when they were kids…

It suddenly click in his head.

“Class.” Mrs Harrison decided to speak for the student. “The is Y/N Y/L/N.”

“No fucking way…” Alex muttered standing up from the back of the class, causing confusion amongst his and Luke’s friends. The rest of them seemed to be missing something important, but were yet to figure out what.

“Y/N, why don’t you find yourself a seat?” Mrs H suggested, Principal Brown taking her leave as Y/N sauntered towards the far corner of the classroom, not pausing for even a second as she sat herself on Luke’s chair, arms folding over her chest as Luke’s gaze on her turned from one of surprise to one of raw, unfiltered annoyance, something Julie would later describe as ‘the angriest she’s ever seen’ her friend.

The pair stared each other down for a moment, Y/N the first to move and reach out an arm, taking Alex’s nearby hand in hers as he stayed standing, shocked by the revelation.

“Seven years is a long time, isn’t it?” Her voice was smooth, trained, like molasses dripping down. It stuck in Luke’s head, the words taking hold over his brain just like her song had earlier that day. Alex pulled the girl to her feet suddenly, the pair embracing in a tight hug, staying like that for a moment as the class watched on, as their friends watched on.

When they finally pulled apart, the girl turned her attention to the frowning Luke, whose knuckles were clenched so firmly that the skin was as white as bone.

It couldn’t be. How was she here? It had to be some kind of joke.

But her eyes were the same, her smirk so familiar, and the deal was sealed when she sat herself back down and crossed one leg over another, in his chair, sending a wink his way that was anything but playful.

“Well, hello there, Skywalker.”

He had always hated that nickname...

TAGS: @siennanoelle01 @epikskool @eries45 @thesweetestsinner @fangirlangioma @moviesbooksandfandoms @ohyoureaqueenbutuncrowned @saroo-hawks @charliessunset @lana-moe-fandoms @bigdesi @avngrsinitiative @emotionalbruv @lolychu @lazydaisy19 @korydickson @futuremrsb-r-main @uglypeachh @reggieandthereggies @rogersangel @izzyhogue @writerinlearning @independentgirl @delicatelukepatterson @mybrainiswhack @uhmitstori @mon-charmante @writingforphantoms @musicconversedance @mjflower @heimdoodle @kcd15 @-episkey- @billiesburritoess @walkingonshunshine @obxmermaid @sunsetcurvenotsunsetswerve @kristencoontz @n0wornever @simp4madi @aliciameix @kinda-just-chillin-here @jatpfan @blueyed-one @vicesvsvirtuesfanfic @ghostlyb1tch @leahstypewriter

#luke patterson #jatp au #luke patterson x reader #luke patterson x y/n #luke patterson jatp #jatp luke x reader #jatp luke #jatp #julie and the phantoms #willex #luke patterson imagine #fluffy smut #fluffy angsty smut #smut #fluff #angst #julie and the phantoms alternate universe #enemies to lovers

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hannybkpop · 3 years

Text

Dancing Dreams

Chapter 1

(I would love some feedback especially since i decided to start writing again, I will also be working on re-writing My Han Fanfiction and making it better, Thank you)

Synopsis ..... As a 20yr old born and raised in Busan South korea, you finally moved forward in your life and managed to Join The Best Dance company out there. You make Friends you could never forget and so many memories you will cherish in your life. Your love Life will blossom and the sturggles of life will finally reach its peak. Will you manage to get through it or get overwhelmed by evrything and everyone ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- It was an early Monday morning, the sun rays were shinning through the cracks in your curtains perfectly lighting your face. "its too early for any of this" you groan and turn over to the other side where the sun dont shine. "Y/N get up youre going to be late!" your mom yelled at you from the kitchen. You turn back around and sluggishly sit up right, criss-cross apple sauce still half asleep and slouching forward. "Thats right" you thought to yourself, "Todays the first day of my dance class" you check your phone and time reads 7:34am. You get up and start making your way to the bathroom still dragging your feet, but you couldnt help but feel butterflies in your stomach. you make your way to the bathroom and brush your teeth, then your face and you apply lotion " you cant forget to take care of your face" you say as you laugh. You walk towards your closet wondering what to wear. your closet was full of black and white, not really any other color because brights just wasnt your thing. you decide to go with some black sweats, a white crop top and some white Filas. you decide to keep your hair down, kinda wavy and grab a hair tie for later. you head down stair and you can hear the sizzling of possibly bacon or sausage and the smell of toast. Your mom had breakfast ready for you, two eggs over easy just the way yiu love em, two strips bacon and some white toast. " Thank you, if you wouldnt have made me breakfast i would have gone on coffee for the whole day" you say wiith a moutful of toast. You tend to live off of coffee, not a day goes by without it. once you finished eating, you grab your keys and head out "Bye mom, ill see you later" you say as you turn around and wave good-bye.

You hop in your car, plug in your phone and start listening to some of your favorite tunes. The first song that plays is Enhypens Given-taken "Wake up in day one, cheonnare achim jomyeongin bichweo taeyange nunbit" you sing, using your vocal chords to their full extent. Next played Aespas- Next level which lead to ITZYs Mafia. You pull up to a starbucks and lower your music, "Hello welcome to starbucks, what can i get started for you today?" The employee asks cheerfully this morning. "Hello can i get a Venti Iced caramel macchiato with 2 extra shots of espresso and extra caramel" It was your go to drink, just the perfect amount of espresso and caramel mixed together. "Of course, is that going to be all for today?" she asked, "Yes ma'am, thank you" she tells you the price and you pull up the window, you grab your drink and head off straight for the dance studio. A couple more songs played through, you jammed out to Nct, Exo, A.C.E, Oneus and so many other groups and then you finally arrived. Your heartbeat accelarated slightly just at the thought that you finally get to start your dance classes.

When you were just ten years old you found k-pop, it was music you had never listened to but your curiosity got the best of you. From finding TVXQ you were slowly dragged down the K-pop hole but it was possibly the best thing that had ever happened to you. From then on 3yrs went by, you were finally 13 and you thought to yourself that you wanted to be a dancer and that someday you would be a back up dancer or a choreographer for the idols you look up to. You asked your mom to sign you up for dance classes , she agreed and signed you up for modern dancing, from then on you moved on to hip-hop, contemporate and breakdancing which was honestly possibly the hardest to learn, who knew breakdancing could make you feel like you could break yourself in a heart beat. And thats how you got here, you auditioned to join Dream Team dance studio, one of the hardest to pass and yet you managed to make it through, but the price for this dance class was pretty high so you also planned on getting a part time job.

You finally turned off your car and started heading towards the building, since you were still new here you had to follow sign procedures and which classes you would be available for and suited for. You headed towards what seemed to be the front desk but didnt see anyone there. "Hello?" you called out, and then a girl peeked her head out the corner of her office "Hello sorry i didnt hear you walk in" she said very sweetly " what can i do for you today?". You open your bag and pull out the paperwork you had to fill out Prior to your first day "Oh, i am new here and today is going to be my first day starting my dance classes" you hand her the papers and she goes through, she tells you to give her a quick minute and she walks back to the office, she comes back with a lanyard and keycard attached " Welcome to DT, Heres your badge" she hands the item over to you and you seemed kinda confused " oh, sorry let me explain. So we do get certain people who come thorugh to practice at times and we use this badge so that any unwanted personal dont just barge through wihtout permission. we really do want our dancers to feel safe and comfortable in this enviroment" its like she read your expression. So many questions came to mind of who could possibly come to this studio, Idols seems to cross your mind but you just push it away because it only happens ever so rarely. "Thank you so much, ill make sure not to lose this", you start to head towards the doors and turn around because it totally slipped your mind to ask what room your class was in. “im sorry, but what room will i be heading to?” you ask. “ oh, right i guess we forgot, you will be headed to floor 7 room c” - she chuckles. You start to make your way back to the double doors then you hear her say " if you lose the badge, its a $100 fee to replace it", You grab the badge tighter knowing that thats alot of money just to replace it. You excitedly scan your badge and make your way through the double doors, as soon as you walk through you see a cafeteria to your right and a mini market to your left. You walk towards the cafeteria and see that they also have a cafe in the corner. “oh hell yeah, i can grab myself some coffee anytime i want now’” you think to yourself as you sip on your starbucks. You turn around and starts making your way to the elevators, as you walk back you overhear a group of girls chatting about floor 7, you stop in your tracts to listen in a little more, you werent trying to eavesdrop but you were still new here and wanted to know what they had to say about the floor your class is in. They started talking about how the rumor about idols showing up at the dance studio was true but the only floor they ever go to was floor 7, since floor 7 was were the best choreographers were located. You start to walk away slowly picking up your pace because in your head that was impossible, you werent notified exactly of who the special personal was. You thought maybe you should have asked more in depth questions, but you didnt because you were so excited. You finally make a stop at the elevator doors almost running straight into them,you push the up arrow button and the doors open. When you head inside you push level 7 but on the mini screen it says Please scan badge. You grab your badge slightly shaking and scan, you get approved and the doors close. The elevator starts to go up and you are so deep in your thoughts you start thinking out loud. You start pacing back in forth asking yourself if what the girls were saying was true. The last thing you needed was for an artist to show up and make a fool out of yourself, at this point you have your arms up in the air and you dont notice that the elevator stopped on floor 3. As you turn around you see three different males standing infront of the levator staring at you, all three were in black masks and some sort of hat making it hard to notice their faces. You make eye contact with one and the realise your arms are still up in the air. “oh my god, i am so sorry” you say as you are still panicking. The one on the left giggles to himself, the one on the right is unphased but the one in the center kept eye contact with you. You could barely utter another word, but you manged to scoot over and make room for the three of them. You are so embarassed you face away and place your head against one of the elevator walls. You see that one of them goes to push floor 7 as well but they realise that floor number 7 is already chosen. They look over and notice that you also have a badge that lets you in the top floor but they leave it at that. The ride from floor 3 to floor 7 seemed like it was taking forever, and you couldnt believe that on your first day you managed to make a fool out of yourself. You finally reach floor 7 and the elevator doors open. You make your way out first and walk as fast you can to room C, the boys follow behind. With your mind still racing you walk straight passed room C unknowingly that you almost run into a window at the end of the hall. As soon as you come to a stop you hear, “ You do know thats a window, and not a door right?” he says with a mocking tone. “ oh yeah, i knew that, i just wanted to take in some sun” you say as you turn back around and go straight for room C. “Hyunjin, youre going to be late for our dance class” han says after opening the door to room A, “Sorry, i just wanted to take in some sun” he giggles to himself.

You have eyes looking at you from running in and closing the door shut, your face lights up red "I'm sorry". You continue to walk in and the dance room catches your eye, its so spacious, the walls painted an oxford blue, and a set of two clear window that reach from top to bottom on the left. "First time here i see" one of the girls calls out to you, "oh yeah, this dance room is nice" you are in complete awe. "i was the same way the first time i walked in this room, by the way if you dont mind me asking, what was that all about earlier?" she cocked her head to the left. "oh that~, so i made a complete fool of myself infront of these guys who were on the elevator with me, i guess i was so nervous that i also almost walked into the window at the end of the hall until one of them called out to them" you say with a slight laugh as you look down on the floor. "Oh geex, i would have probably done the same. So whats your name?", "my name is Y/N, whats yours? you ask, "Oh my name is Elizabeth but you can call me Eli, i hope we can be good friends from now on". As soon as she finished the doord behind us opened, "Hello, it seems like everyone here seems aquianted, well lets get started from where we left off. Hello you must be y/n, i have heard alot about you from our scouts who were at the auditions." She says with a very curious tone, you can feel all eyes on you. "He-hello" you tense up slightly just at the thought the teacher knows who you are. The class officially starts and everyone seems to have gone to their places, you make your way towards the back of the class to watch the dance everyone one learned last semester. You watched them practice a couple times before you joined in. After going through the dance a couple more times Eli looks at you in awe "I can see why you were accepted into classes in the 7th floor, youre really good"

Classes proceeded for the rest of the day that time went by so fast, it was already 7pm and it was time to go home. "So i believe i will be seeing you tomrrow?" Eli asked, "Definitely, i had so much fun today and im so excited for the rest to come. I might stick around to practice just a little more" You say with enthusiasm in your voice. Eli leaves while waving back and youre the only one left in the room. You walk up to the radio and plug in your phone through the aux chord, you scroll through your playlist you are debating between Enhypen- given taken, TXT- Puma and Starykids latest release Thunderous. You decide to go with thunderous since you just had decided to change the end because you crouched down and walked foward by yourself it would look funny. You finally finished making the end and finally remmebering it so you decide to finally run through the whole dance. After dancing Thunderous a couple times you finaly drop down tired, you hear the door open behind you and turn around to see who could possibly still be here and to your suprise its the 3 mysterious men from earlier. "You're really good, did you make the ending for Thunderous?" asks the one with the medium length black hair, his voice sounds so familiar but you cant seem to remember who it could be. "Oh uhm, yes i did. i kinda figured if i danced it alone i would look stupid" You giggled to yourself "Like imagine crouching down and doing this?" you start to do the ending of the dance, "Youre right, haha it would look kinda funny" Says the one on the left, and again his voice also sounds very familiar but you really cant remember. " I guess we should introduce our selves, My name is Changbin, Seo Changbin" Your eyes widen, "Hi My name is Jisung, Han Jisung. But don't tell anyone you saw us" He shoots a wink. "Well i guess it my turn, My name is Hwan hyunjin, and if you ever feel like Getting some sunshine again Make sure not to try to run out the window" He laughs to himself. Youre face flushes red, You barely manage to even Speak. Did i really just make a full of myself infront of STRAYKIDS?!?! Is the only thought running through your head.

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springday-aus · 3 years

Text

Bad Boy!AU with Seungcheol

—

moodboard link

Group: Seventeen

Member: S.Coups / Choi Seungcheol

Genre: fluff, romance

Additionally: college!au

Type: Bulletpoint AU

Word Count: approx. 2.5k

don’t worry, Seungcheol isn’t even really a bad boy

he’s really just… misunderstood?

actually that’s not a good word for it

it’s in the sense that his reputation makes him to be seen as a bad boy

it’s probably because of the leather jacket

and the motorcycle

and the piercings (mainly the ears)

and the tattoos

it also doesn’t help either that he’s keeps a small circle of friends

there’s nothing wrong with rolling with a smaller group

it just means a lot of people don’t actually know him and that causes more rumors about his personality

he hangs around Wonwoo and Minghao the most

Wonwoo is known to be handsome, but is also super cold to strangers

(more of a shy thing than a rude thing—a whole different story)

on the other hand, Minghao is one of those people who are brutally honest

(which makes him seem like an inconsiderate asshole)

and because people tend to lump people together

they just assume that Seungcheol is the same as those two are: cold and rude

in reality, he’s just a bit more reserved than others

makes people earn his trust, but some people found that unreasonable apparently

people are just so judgmental sometimes, especially in a small town where everyone wanted know everything about everyone

so, for college, Seungcheol picked out a city to study

because the larger populations lets him blend in with the others

tbh, let’s be real…. he def isn’t the only one who’s wearing all black on a college campus lmao

Wonwoo at some point: “look, we’re twinning”

Seungcheol: “it’s not twinning if you only wear black and keep wearing black”

Wonwoo: :(

anyways

he chose to study business

basic but it’s simple

it ensures that he’s going to have a stable job and by the of the day that’s all that matters to him

stability

also the business suit he has covers everything nicely, so it isn’t like he has visible face tattoos or piercings

not that it’s bad, but….. capitalism, you know? homeboy would like money

so, while his hometown called him a bad influence on other kids

the college sees him as another hottie in the leather jacket

he’s probably would’ve been the campus heartthrob—had it not been for the fact that he went to same school as Wonwoo, Mingyu or that new freshie who calls himself Vernon

there was one time in his theology class that he took off his leather jacket right?

the arm muscles flexing and the tattoo sleeve……….. it’s safe to say everyone took a double take during class that day

as for his academic marks……….

I mean, yeah, he doesn’t have the top grades to make it on a dean’s list or anything, but

he’s got academic scholarships and that’s enough tbh

he might not be a genius prodigy like Jihoon, but he isn’t stupid

Jeonghan: “wait, you’re not cheating off of him?”

Seungcheol: “no, Jeonghan…………. are you?”

Jeonghan: “yeah, no, I thought it was like a thing that we all agreed to”

Seungcheol: “Jeonghan, no”

Jeonghan: “Jeonghan, yes”

so he’s not like a major try-hard like all those A+ obsessive people from high school

but he does make the effort

he’s just trying to live a nice, quiet life on campus to graduate—just like everyone else here

although

there is this habit of his that he’s been trying to break: being late to class

his attendance record isn’t great……….

like he’ll be there….. but he’ll be there like five to ten minutes late so it doesn’t really matter but

it’s like a personal pet peeve about himself

granted, it doesn’t matter when most professors don’t even take attendance

but it’s also because he works really late hours at a nearby convenience shop on campus

so………. the end result is tardiness

and he’s trying to work on it

which is also how he meets you

you see, Seungcheol met you in a………… unique situation

so, Seungcheol has found it easier to go around in his motorcycle, especially in a city

and especially on a college campus

and it’s like 20x faster than walking

it’s also good for when he’s late for his morning classes because he can easily make it to the other side in campus in like 2 minutes vs the original 10 minutes

so on a bright Tuesday morning

after he overslept his alarm (once again)

he quickly got dressed and hopped on his motorcycle to get to the other side of campus for class

….. only for him to quickly stop after hearing your scream

he didn’t necessarily hit you per say but it didn’t mean you managed to pass by untouched

you were rushing off to class too

on all days to be late………. it just had to be the day you had a midterm that’s 30% of your final grade

so you were rushing through

unable to see the motorcycle that was heading your direction

which is your fault but that’s also his fault for not seeing you until you screamed when he nearly hit you, running over a toe or two

he immediately stopped, running over to you

Seungcheol: “oh my God, are you alright?”

You: hair messed up, in pain, and survived the heart attack he gave you

You: “sure”

Seungcheol: “are you sure? I can take you to the hospital or—”

You: no, no, I am already as late as is and, and, and…….”

you trail off, remembering the motorcycle that laid a couple of feet away

You: “instead of the hospital, how about a ride instead? I cannot miss this midterm”

Seungcheol was taken aback from your commitment and strange request, but complied nevertheless

Seungcheol: “are you sure?”

You: “absolutely, hustle man, hustle—we gotta go”

Seungcheol scrambles, starting up the motorcycle and handing you a helmet

which you gladly grab and attach yourself behind him with your arms on his waist

he’s a bit flustered from your proximity

what if he was a murderer and you just hopped onto his bike?

I mean, he obviously isn’t but still

You: “sir, chop-chop, pls move, my ass needs to get to McGregor”

Seungcheol: “yes, right”

it takes less than a minute to get there, especially since there weren’t many others on the pathways

you hastily get off his motorcycle, tossing his helmet back at him and running off

You: “thank you!!!!”

Seungcheol: “you’re welcome?”

he watches as you run into the building, with nothing more on your mind than your midterm

how odd

he shakes his head, clearing his head of you before going to park his motorcycle and locking it—he’s got his own problems to worry about right now

(he re-told the story to a couple of his friends, in which Jihoon said: “watch yourself, you could get a lawsuit coming one of these days” and Seungcheol just rolled his eyes)

it’s about two weeks before he sees you again

so fun fact, his college requires community involvement/field assignment

and he chose to be in the big brother program

so he’s a big brother to this adorable 6 year old girl named Rose

he filled his requirement long ago, but he highkey loved it so he remained as a big brother to Rose

who he has to take out trick-or-treating for the Halloween event the program set up

can you imagine Seungcheol in his leather jacket and tattoos and piercings with a little group of 6 year olds

the chaos

Rose: “what did you dress as?”

Seungcheol: “uhhhhhh….. Danny from Grease”

Rose: “who’s that?”

Seungcheol: oh my God I’m old

they get a door that’s got some fake cobwebs and bright purple string lights

Seungcheol: “go ahead little ones, knock on the door”

they yell out trick or treat and the door creaks open to…….. you

you and your friends happened to be gathering together for Halloween and decided to meet up at your friend’s old house which was in the neighborhood that Seungcheol was in

you all originally planned to watch a bunch of bad supernatural movies and give out candy to little kids

all of y’all took turns at the door and it was your turn

you give the kids a sweet smile in your doctor’s costume

(or, at least, he’s assuming it’s a costume—maybe it is and maybe it isn’t)

after you pass out the candy, Joshua, the other chaperone, rounds up the kids and Seungcheol’s eyes met your widened ones

You: “oh! it’s motorcycle dude!”

Seungcheol: “motorcycle dude?”

You: “........ you were the one who hit me with his motorcycle right?”

Seungcheol: “has anyone else hit you with a motorcycle?”

You: “so it is you!”

you two chat a bit, especially since they have to start moving to the next house

Joshua: “bro, we have to get moving, stop flirting in front of the children!”

Seungcheol: “I’m not flirting!”

he turns back to you

Seungcheol: “I’ll see you around, please don’t sue me”

You: “sue you?”

Seungcheol: “I’m a broke college kid”

You: “so am I dude”

Joshua gives him another look and another warning before they start to move to the other house

You: “you know, if you have spare time, you’re welcome to join my friends and I—we’re going to be making fun of Twilight later together”

Seungcheol: “I might take you up on that offer”

You: “well, we’ll be here, so”

you give him a smile that makes him stutter for a second, before he waves you goodbye to join the others

Rose: “Joshua says you like the doctor”

Seungcheol: “well, Joshua’s not that smart”

Joshua: “hey!”

he doesn’t know what compels him to go back to the house

but he does

(it might have taken a word or two from Rose and Joshua to encourage him)

and he has a really good time with you and your friends

hearing Seungkwan roasting Robert Pattinson was something Seungcheol didn’t know he needed

Soonyoung’s attempt of creating bgm on top of the soundtrack was also equally as hilarious

and then there were your side remarks with him throughout the movie

which he did enjoy

he left the house that night with a couple of new numbers in his phone

Jeonghan would be proud of him for making new friends on his own

after that night, you and Seungcheol hang out a bit more

you get to know each other

turns out the so called bad boy is actually just a major softie

surprise surprise, I know

he’s got a tattoo for his mom (a little heart on his heart)

he’s great at braiding (due to braiding Rose’s hair)

and he picked up sewing to patch up the holes that his friends created in their shirts

major heart eyes for Seungcheol

and he learns more about you and your little quirks

at some point, he even shares some things that happened back home

which was a bit hard for him to do but you were incredibly understanding

people just suck sometimes

one good thing about cities is that everyone minds their own business so

anyways

while he’s met your friends, you’ve also met his

you and Jeonghan are now the chaotic duo that Seungcheol wishes he can undo

Jeonghan: “are you fucking cheating? in front of my salad?”

You: steals another $50 bill from the monopoly pile

You: “no”

Jeonghan: “pay me off”

Wonwoo: “we are sitting right fucking here”

anyways

you two continue to hang out together as time goes and it’s great

sometimes you even hang out with him and Rose and it’s super cute

especially when you watch Seungcheol care for Rose like an actual sister

maybe that’s when the heart eyes started

he just……….. knows how to take care of people

he’s very attentive and understands that different people have different needs

it’s all……… very attractive

he’s very attractive

not in just the physical aspect

the inside *chef’s kiss*

Seungcheol doesn’t know when he started liking you either

maybe it was the way you really listened to what he said

you encouraged and supported him to do what he wanted

and told people off if they did say something about him

along with telling him to ignore them because it’s all stemming from jealousy and hate

and he knows that but it’s always nice to know he has someone on his side

so, what changes?

one movie night, there’s some generic rom com that you’ve already forgotten about

the blanket you’re both sharing isn’t the only heat you’re feeling

his knee knocks lightly against yours

your shoulders touching his

his fingers lingering on yours

then he’s moving closer

and closer

and then your lips meet

it’s soft, but firm

and that was the first day you started dating

dating bad boy!Seungcheol is basically the same as being friends with him only needier

he opened up to you as a friend

but as a boyfriend

you’re seeing EVERYTHING

he’s lowkey touch-starved so he’s very….. handsy

his hands got cold once and he straight up put his hands up in your hoodie

You: “thErE ArE pEOpLE aRouND sIR”

Seungcheol: “head empty, hands Cold”

lots of movie dates

(you asked if you should put on Twilight again and he said he could only take it one decade at a time)

lots of dinner and takeout dates

(the amount of menus you two have collected is insane)

lots of game night dates

which include Seungcheol’s friends

you and Jeonghan still team up to cheat, leaving the you two in the top to fight for the winning spot but Minghao always calls you two out

and then you start openly cheating

(Jeonghan literally flipped over an operations board one time)

you’ve also seen his tattoos

there are cute small ones and then there are bigger ones of flowers and patterns

You: “does it hurt more if you color them in?”

Seungcheol: “no, I was supposed to get them filled but Rose likes to color them with her markers”

You: “why are you two so fucking adorable”

You: “can I color it in?” c:

he let you

it was so much fun

on some days with Rose, you both color together on a shirtless Seungcheol

speaking of which

she loves you

Rose: “I told you you liked the doctor”

You: ?

Seungcheol: “shhhh, finish your cupcake”

oooh, also—lots of motorcycle rides

during the night is when it’s the most beautiful with all of the city lights

sometimes you stop by a park and just hang out to talk

not often bc like midnight murderers are a thing, but sometimes

it’s always a nice impromptu date

also, it’s been long overdue but he took you to the doctor’s once and brought up the whole running over your toes thing

and your toes are fine but

he still highkey feels kind of guilty but the kisses you give him compensate for the guilt

so bad boy!Seungcheol isn’t really bad just misunderstood

but like…. are we complaining?

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frostsinth · 3 years

Text

Burdened by the Stars - Pt. 2

Part 1 - MasterList

I am having so much fun writing this story so far. I had a bit of a struggle to figure out how I wanted it to go, but I think I’ve got that down now. And so it’s getting a bit easier. I hope you guys love this part as much as I do, because it has some returning characters.

I’ve already got most of the next chapter written, so I might post it 12/24 or so if I have enough interest and get far enough along to continue to be ahead of myself.

If you like my work, please think about going to BuyMeACoffee (which you can access from my MasterList above or through my header) to support me. If you would like to commission a piece, DM or shoot me an ask for details.

All the best!

We reached the outer walls of the goblin city an hour or two shy of nightfall, and I heard the trumpets announcing our approach as the gates swung wide. I smiled eagerly, and spurred my mount into a graceful canter through the streets of the outer city. The majority was below ground and deep into the mountainside, but since the signing of the Peace Treaty between the Kingdoms somewhere around a dozen years before, the goblins had set up a trade haven here on the surface. During the day, the streets were often bustling, but with night fast approaching and temperatures dropping they had a quiet air of productivity about them now. A mixture of goblins spattered with the occasional human were closing up shop as I rode, and I heard a few happy cries of greeting and murmurs of excitement when they recognized me as I passed them by. My hair billowed and bounced out wildly behind me, and I offered a friendly wave to the merchants and shoppers who greeted me as I left the royal carriage far behind and rode up the slope to the castle proper.

Those gates opened as well without delay, and the echo of my horse’s hooves clattered about the cobblestones. A herald darted from one side doorway, quickly straightening his tunic. He had only half my name out before I passed him, and he gave a tiny puff of air as he realized the pointlessness of his loud announcement of my arrival was overshadowed by the racket of hooves. But news certainly did travel fast here regardless. It had only been maybe ten minutes since I had first crossed the threshold of the outer city, and already someone was waiting for me at the top of the long, shallow steps. I pulled up my mare short before the wide stairs of the main doors at the head of the courtyard, and my smile grew at the familiar figure I saw standing before them with his shoulders squared and his hands clasped behind his pin-straight back.

I called out to him loudly with a cheery greeting, already swinging out of the saddle before my mount had come to a full stop. A few attendants rushed forward, and I passed her reins over with a kind word of thanks to them and a pat to her thick neck.

The second eldest of our family looked down at me with a slightly exasperated expression. It could be hard to tell with him sometimes; like our oldest brother, he tended to conceal most of his emotions beneath a stony façade. Remnants of a childhood with our strict father, I had been told, though I recalled only very little of that time myself. Not to mention that the etiquette of human court still aired towards a more stoic and reserved composure. But I knew both my brothers well enough to read the tiny changes which denoted their thoughts behind their masks. So I already knew King Nikostratus was not particularly pleased to see me on his doorstep that evening even before he spoke.

“Chickadee, what are you doing here?” He exclaimed as I skipped up the steps to him. “Valerianus assured me he would send word ahead for when to expect you.”

Despite the scolding edge to his voice, he enveloped me in a warm hug when I reached him. It had been more than three months since we had last seen each other after all, though of course we wrote to each other regularly. I forgot how much I had missed him myself until I was firmly enveloped in his arms and his familiar scent. I saw his expression had softened a little by the time I pulled back, and he fondly pushed my hair out of my face as he must have done a million times before.

“The roads were perfectly clear, Niko!” I told him, not fighting his fussing over my wild locks. “I don’t know what Val was waiting for, but I got tired of waiting for it.”

“Please tell me you at least informed our brother you were leaving?” He bemoaned, a slight frown pinching at his brow. I gave him a tiny, sheepish grin, and he sighed heavily in defeat. Gesturing over an attendant. “Morgana, you cannot just ride back and forth across the countryside whenever you very well feel like it. You are a Princess for goodness sakes. It’s dangerous!”

“But Niko-!”

“Auntie Gana!” Came a shouting chorus of gleeful voices from behind my brother in the castle, interrupting his reprimanding and my planned defense.

I dropped to one knee with a returning grin as two of my nephews and one of my nieces sprinted into my arms. They very nearly knocked me over with their combined weight, and I laughed as I fell back onto my bottom.

“My goodness!” I gasped. “Look at how you’ve all grown! Izaak, is that you?? I can barely recognize you! And Lorette! You’ve grown your hair so long!”

I scooped up their youngest, Viktor, into my arms as his remained stubbornly latched around my neck. The other two let me unwrap them so I could stand once more, but clung to my legs and tunic excitedly. I vaguely overheard my brother giving instructions to the attendant to send word to Val about my surprise but safe arrival. I placed a hand on Izaak’s head, scruffing the eleven year old’s hair. He pushed my hand away with a soft yelp and a fussing word before quickly working to smooth out the messy blonde curls as best he could. Lorette tugged on my shirt.

“Auntie Gana, are you here for the rest of winter now?” She asked eagerly.

I looked up at Niko, raising one eyebrow pointedly. I heard the creak of the carriage arriving in the courtyard, followed by the click of its doors as my Ladies emerged from within. My brother looked over at it, then gave another heavy sigh, shaking his head.

“Honestly, chickadee, I should send you straight back.” He told me, but belittled his words by turning and leading the way into the castle proper. “This behavior is absolutely unacceptable and-”

“Ah, I thought I heard the trumpets! And look who’s come to call!” Came a cheery voice, interrupting us for a second time. We turned as a group to face the goblin King as he strode down the hall with an excited skip in his step. “Finally! I thought our little bird might just end up staying south for the winter this year!”

Viktor wriggled to be released at the sight of his father, squealing with delight. I put the four year old on the ground to sprint over to the King next, who scooped him back up with a small touch of difficulty. Even at four, the little human boy was starting to outgrow his tiny 5’2 foot goblin parent. But if the weight bothered him, the goblin King didn’t let it show, sauntering over with a toothy grin and his son perched on one hip.

“Grier, thank goodness,” I greeted him, giving my brother’s husband a warm and grateful smile of relief, “Just in time to talk some sense into Niko! He wants to send me back!”

“Send her back??” Exclaimed Grier, his brow shooting up as he looked over at Niko. “Whatever for?? She just got here!”

His voice was full of his usual vibrant lightness, and it echoed about the large hallway around us. I felt like I was floating on air at its sound. I loved the vibrancy of the goblin kingdom, especially compared to the solemn human court of Geriveria, and that vivacity was in no small part due to its monarchs. It always made me feel so happy to see both of them, though it might be hard to see how they were compatible at all at first glance. Where my brother was soft spoken, stoic, and as unreadable as stone, his husband was everything the opposite. Grier was flamboyant, loud, and wore his emotions on his sleeves for everyone to see. While Niko wore dark solid coats with sensible black or grey pants and subdued gold buttons, Grier wore loud prints, usually several of them at once, with strange cuts, frills, and styles. His long blonde hair was absolutely wild in contrast to Niko’s short cropped black. He wore bangles and bobbles and earrings, where the most my brother ever wore was a decorative belt or a ceremonial sword at his hip. One would be hard pressed to find a more unalike pair of men. But one would be equally hard pressed to find a pair that somehow worked as well together as they did. Or made each other half as happy.

Niko gave Grier a look which equaled the same level of exasperation he had given me just a few moments prior. “She snuck out of the castle, again,” he told him, his voice as level and smooth as always but hinting at his frustration around the edges, “She didn’t inform King Valerianus she was leaving. And she didn’t send word ahead.” His hazel eyes shot back to me, narrowing slightly. “What if something had happened to her on the road? We would never have known until it was far too late.”

I took the scolding with a slightly bowed head, biting my tongue, and even Izaak and Lorette hid behind my legs with the sternness of my brother’s voice. Perhaps out of sympathy; I was sure they had heard that tone more than once themselves. It had the quality of making one feel not fearful of punishment, but instead horribly guilty for their actions. And longing to correct whatever disappointment one had inadvertently fostered. I rested a hand on each of their heads reassuringly.

Grier, however, seemed unaffected by the tone, and waved his free hand with a loud scoff that echoed about the stone hall. “Nonsense! She’s here safe now, and that’s all that matters, isn’t it?” He nudged his husband with his elbow. “Let the girl be, Nikostratus. I’m sure she’s learned her lesson and won’t ever scare you like that again.” His scarlet eyes flicked to me, and his slender brows raised high. “Right, little bird? Certainly your brothers have enough to worry about?”

I nodded solemnly, silently thankful for his intervention. Otherwise the lecture might have continued all night. “Yes, you’re right.” I glanced over at Niko. “I’m sorry, Niko, I didn’t mean to scare you. I promise I won’t do it again.”

“See there? No harm done.” Grier shifted his grip on Viktor, cocking one brow at Nikostratus. “What do you think then?”

My brother gave another long, deep sigh, shaking his head. He considered the goblin for a moment, then I saw his hazel eyes flick down to the children at my knees. I saw the sternness lift from his features again, and Izaak released my leg to move over and stand at his side with a shy smile.

“I suppose I am outnumbered.” He mused, sounding almost indifferent to the fact as he tenderly smoothed Izaak’s hair behind one ear. But then lifted a scolding finger to point at me. “Just this once, I’ll let it go. But never again, chickadee.” He warned.

Grier was already grinning wide before I could offer a response. “Excellent! I’m so happy that’s settled!” He turned to me. “You are just in time for dinner! Would you like to go to your rooms to wash up before? You’ll have to forgive the state of them, we didn’t have a chance to have them fully prepared for your arrival.” He gave a friendly wave to Safa and Lisbet over my shoulder. “I’m sure your Ladies might be able to help to that end, and would remember where everything is should you require aid.”

I smiled back at him. “I should change at the very least. I probably stink of horse.”

That made the goblin laugh, and he hoisted his youngest over one shoulder so that he squealed with delight as well. “You can’t be any worse than these little beasties of ours!”

His words had Izaak and Lorette giggling as well.

“Inunu! I took a bath today! I don’t stink at all!” Lorette proclaimed, going over to wrap herself around his leg. “Izaak is the smelly one! Boys are always smelly!”

“I am not!” He whined angrily, stamping one little foot at his sister. “I take a bath everyday! Right, papa?”

“I know you do, Izaak. You smell wonderful, of course.” Niko reassured him, gently tucking his fingers under his little pointed chin briefly.

“Where are all the rest of the little beasties then?” I asked, looking around as we made our way down the main hall. “Or perhaps I should just follow my nose?”

“Oh, they’re around here somewhere, getting into mischief I am sure.” Grier replied, waving his hand about errantly as his present children burst into a fresh set of giggles at my teasing. “They’ll be down for dinner, gods know they are always hungry.”

“Chickadee,” my brother began as the two older children sprinted off down the hallway ahead of us, bickering amid themselves, “What made you leave without telling Valerianus? That’s not like you, and you know he worries-”

I groaned, shaking my head. “Come on, Niko.” I grumbled, surprised to find myself quite irritated at his prying. “I’ve only been here two minutes! Can’t the nosy brother act wait until later? I’ve got to go get washed up for dinner.”

He looked slightly appalled by my words. “But-”

“I’m here all winter,” I reminded him before he could finish, hopefully curtailing the conversation successfully again, “We’ll have plenty of time to catch up. Right now, I want to go get out of these clothes. Plus I’m famished! And I still haven’t seen Corwin and the twins yet!”

I saw him open his mouth to speak again, and darted over before he could. Springing to the tips of my toes and wrapping my arms around him for a quick hug. His response sputtered on his lips, and I used the opportunity to dart away, my Ladies trailing as fast as they could behind me, hiding their own giggles behind gloved hands. His words had struck a chord of guilt in me that had nothing to do with how I had left without telling Valerianus, and my Ladies’ giggles had me flushing a little darker... I certainly did not want to remember the strange visitor that had driven me out of Geriveria’s castle. But couldn’t help lingering on the thought of him, as he had come unbidden to my thoughts anyways… I wondered if he had anyone to worry about him…

“Was she always this difficult?” I heard my brother mumble softly as I made my way to the nearest stairwell to head to my tower rooms. “I swear, I don’t remember having this much trouble with her when she was little.”

“She’s always been trouble.” I heard Grier chuckle quietly in response. “But she’s all grown up now, Nikostratus. You can’t keep her a little girl forever.”

Another sigh. “... Perhaps if you cast that time spell on her...”

The goblin King’s laughter followed us the rest of the way up the stairs.

...

I sighed deeply, kicking about the powdery snow with my boots as I trudged over to set up my targets by the riverbed again. The forests were quiet this time of year, and a lingering storm from the night before crunched fresh snow underfoot as I moved. I didn’t bother to walk with a lighter step; it didn’t matter. I wasn’t far enough away from the outer castle wall to be in danger, nor was I trying to be particularly stealthy to hide from the old bottles I had brought along for target practice. I didn’t suppose they would much care if I were upwind or down. The forests surrounding the castle were at a high enough altitude that they were mostly inaccessible to anyone coming from beyond the kingdom borders, though it ran alongside the main road in places. I could be alone, but wouldn’t run into any patrols. And was close enough to return with haste should I hear the distinctive alarm bells that signified my absence had been noticed.

Not that it should be today, though perhaps Safa and Lisbet would be looking for me at the castle. I had given them and everyone else the slip that morning when I had left without a word. Tired of their prying and longing for some time alone. I doubted they would spend much time looking for me; I had long outgrown any need for chaperones or nursemaids. Their positions as my Ladies were mostly ceremonial. Occasionally they would help me dress (for my more elaborate and highly disdained ensembles) and they made sure my chambers were kept neat. Otherwise, their only other responsibility was keeping me company. As of late I had pushed for them to take more time for themselves, and they had reluctantly agreed. Giving me long afternoons or sometimes almost full days to myself. They would likely think today no different.

As I collected the bottles and set them back on the fallen tree, I couldn’t help my thoughts wandering again. As they had frequently over the past few days since my arrival at the goblin castle. And Niko’s pestering desire to speak to me had not made my stay any easier. Luckily, he was King after all, and his Royal duties kept him pretty busy. Add that to the overall huge size of the castle, and it was pretty easy to avoid him. Especially as he had quite the knack for getting very lost in its halls without a proper guide. Honestly, I wasn’t sure how he had managed to call the castle his home for the last decade and still not know how to get from the dining hall to his own bedroom without getting lost. But as it was to my advantage this time, I decided to take it as a blessing.

It was my only blessing at the moment, as it seemed my conscience was weighing rather heavily on me. Every time I had even a breath without something to occupy it, my mind raced to the thought of the strange half-orc I had met in the palace gardens of Geriveria. The sky was as dark as my thoughts as I fretted and worried over him. Was he alright? Had I sent him to his death? Certainly, the trek to the crags of Almayit was not an easy one in fair weather, let alone in the deep of winter. Or so I had been told. And the forests of Pyejara? I had read such stories of the beasts that lurked there. I shivered, both against the chill that had descended upon the world with a vengeance for the mild weather days that had preceded it, and for the thought of that fool orc lost somewhere, perhaps in the rocky outcropping. My mind supplied ample visions of misfortune for the poor fellow, to which my stubbornness gave offhanded replies that only left me feeling a little guiltier. His shoulders were bare, and it’s been so cold! Well, then he should have worn a cloak. The footing there is hazardous, what if he twists his ankle out there all alone? Then he shouldn’t have gone alone. I did warn him it was a dangerous place. If he got hurt or lost, it was his own fool fault! Especially for having taken the word of a woman he had just met, after all!

Still, I couldn’t help my thoughts wandering to him, even now as I set my targets and stared at the icy cold water of the small riverbed. I wished perhaps I hadn’t been quite so impulsive and brash. Surely there were other ways to rid myself of a pesky suitor, orc or otherwise. I could have simply told him the truth; that there was no way in hell I was getting married. That was not the path for me, nor had it ever even remotely interested me. I had never fawned over fairytales of true love, or imagined myself a Queen of anywhere. I didn’t want to be some polished princess set on a sparkling throne and no more useful than a flower painted on a wall. I didn’t want to be seen as a reward, or a trophy wife. And I certainly didn’t want to stay in one place for the rest of my life. It may have been a perfect and happy ideal for my brothers, but I had loftier goals for myself.

I paused, thumbing the bowstring thoughtfully. I welcomed the change as my thoughts shifted to wondering how much longer I would have to wait for my own adventure to start. I had spent my life reading about them, or prying them from travelers and merchants. How did one start these things anyways? In the stories, there was always a catalyst. Something that came along to change the main character’s routine. I wondered what mine would be, or if I could in some way instigate it. Perhaps I needed to simply leave. Pack a saddle and go out into the world. I felt the itch of it in my palms, the biting urge in my legs. I imagined with glee the freedom of the open road, of wandering wherever I wished without the binds of my title weighing me down. Out in the world where no one knew nor cared who I was or where I had come from...

Grier had always said there was a natural magic to the world. When I was little, I used to get jealous of the way he could snap his fingers, mutter a word, and simply manipulate the world around him. I poured over the spell books that I managed to sneak out of the royal library, trying my hardest to understand why it worked for him and the other goblins but not for me. When my efforts had been discovered, when Niko had tried to explain to little twelve year old me that humans weren’t able to learn magic... I had been mad; mad at Niko. Mad at Grier. Mad at magic for refusing me, even though I wanted it so much and tried so hard.

Then Grier had taken me to the side and in that soft way he was so good at, said something to me that stuck solidly in my mind even to this day. So much so that I could hear it now as clearly as if he were standing beside me speaking the words anew.

“Magic does not exist to be bent to our will.” He had told me, handing me a handkerchief to wipe at my tear stained cheeks. “It is not made to be commanded about; it has a will of its own.”

“But you command it!” I had argued.

He then shook his head. “I ask of it, and it accepts.” He had replied. “It is a partnership, an understanding… and goblins have been speaking with magic for many, many centuries.”

“.... So Niko was right? I’ll never be able to learn magic?” I had whispered sadly, swallowing back a fresh wave of tears.

He seemed to think about this for a moment, then shook his head again. “You may never hear it,” He admitted, “... Not in the way I do. But that doesn’t mean it won’t be able to hear you.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Magic is all around us.” He explained. “It’s in the air we breathe, and in the stone at our feet… It is always listening.” His toothy grin had filled his face. “How else do you explain the rain starting just as you’re thinking things can’t get any worse? Or when you’re already having a bad day and you accidentally drop your dessert? Or when you spend hours looking for something just to find it in your pocket? Or what about when you bite into a pastry and it brings you back in time to when you used to bake with your brother?”

“...That’s magic?”

He nodded, still smiling. “Sometimes if you think or worry about something enough, magic will hear you. And who knows what it’ll do when it does.”

I was forcibly reminded of this fact when I heard the snap of a branch in the trees behind me. I spun gracefully on one foot, raising my bow and notching an arrow all in the same motion. So that by the time I was facing my would-be attacker, I already had the string drawn level to my ear.

I nearly let it loose in shock when my eyes fell upon the hulking yellowish-green figure standing before me.

Erramun scowled at me, his brow becoming more pronounced as he scrunched it together. Despite the cold, he still wore nothing but the pauldron on his shoulder and the furs about his hips. He was clutching one large hand at his side, and I noticed he was hunched over slightly. He was also filthy. Covered from head to boot with dirt and mud, and gods knew what else. The recognition must have hit him at the same time it hit me, because he shook his head.

“The gods certainly have a sense of humor,” He growled, “To put you back in my path.”

I hesitated, but felt the strong urge to keep the arrow notched. As I was suddenly reminded he was larger than me, and obviously quite cross. Though I was sure he had a good reason to be. My stomach twisted in knots as my hazel eyes darted over him, accessing every inch. Trying to decide how best to handle this particular situation.

“You are certainly the last person I expected to see as well.” I replied coolly. “... Did you find the flower then?” I added, as if it were no more than a casual comment about the weather.

The half-orc laughed, a booming sound that reverberated around the trunks of the trees surrounding us. “Some flower, eh? Magical and rare?” He replied, his scowl deepening. “I searched high and low for it. Then I go back to the castle-” He took a slow, almost menacing step forward, and I matched him for a wary step back “-and the staff tells me that the Princess left.” He cocked his head to the side, considering the tip of my arrow as I straightened a bit taller nervously. “You forgot to mention I had a deadline.”

“We left rather suddenly.” I told him, careful to keep my voice steady. “How did I know you would be back so soon?”

Honestly, I hadn’t expected him to come back at all! Being sent on a wild goose chase, only to return and find out the one person he had sought to impress had left for the winter. By the gods, how had he even managed to get this far? I glanced about, but he seemed to be alone. No one had guided him here. Were orcs so good at hunting that he had been able to track me like a dog, despite my trail being nearly a week cold? I highly doubted that, narrowing my eyes at him suspiciously. I doubted also that the palace staff would have told him where I had gone, especially to a stranger at court. So how had he managed to charm that out of them? What else was he hiding?

He shifted, considering me with an equal wariness. “... So the goblin Princess is here?”

I was very good at keeping emotions from my face, especially the ones I didn’t want anyone else to see. Human court was no place to let such things slip, and I was very practiced there. But I still nearly lost my composure at his words. My lips twitched, and I was much more aware of the distinct pull of the bowstring against my fingertips than I had been previously. I wasn’t sure which was more surprising; that he was still interested after all I had put him through, or that he still didn’t realize who he was talking to.

I chewed over my words for a long moment. “... And if she is?”

He growled from somewhere deep in his chest. I almost winced, but quickly realized the sound wasn’t menacing. It was… affirmative, almost.

“Then I want to meet her.” Emerald eyes fixed on the tip of my arrow again. “Will you put that toothpick down, girl?” He grumbled. “You said you would help me. And I think you owe me now.”

His words sparked a bit of fire in my belly. “Owe you?? Are you really that desperate?” I scoffed. “Are there no orc ladies for you to court back home? Why are you even still here?”

His expression shifted drastically at my sneering, and I drew in a deep breath at the way it made his whole face seem to change. He glanced down, as if burdened by something he could not find the words to describe. But I knew that look. I had seen that look on Val’s face. On Niko’s. That weight of a thousand weights… I swallowed hard, but felt a little of the tension leave the bowstring as my tight grip relaxed. When he looked back up at me, his previous scowl was gone. Replaced by something I wasn’t quite sure how to name. But it made me lower my bow the rest of the way. Who was this man?

“I am a stranger to these lands… I cannot do this alone, but it needs to be done.” He told me, his voice quieter than I had yet heard it, but determined. He sighed, almost in irritation. As if resigned to his fate. “... Will you help me?”

I looked over his shoulder, back towards the castle. I felt guilt and stubbornness in equal parts, fighting for position inside me. But I couldn’t. How was I supposed to help him, when I knew what he wanted? And knowing that what he wanted went against everything I had ever dreamed for myself? I could feel the looming trap of his intent like a heavy iron cage dangling over my head. Following my every move. Ready to drop at the slightest provocation and take away the last of my freedom for good. I had already let this go on for far too long. I couldn’t keep up the lie any longer, but felt the truth was far too heavy to speak. Best to just toss both out the window.

I shook my head, resolved. “No, I’m sorry, I can’t help you.” I replied, returning the arrow to the quiver at my back with one smooth motion and slinging my bow over my shoulders. “I’ve already made enough of a mess of things. Now, if you’ll pardon me-”

I went to collect my pack from the snowy ground and saw him open his mouth as he stepped forward to intercept me. Likely with some argument or further point for his case. But as he stepped forward, barely a yard away, he staggered, wincing heavily. I moved forward instinctually as he fell to one knee, and found my hand on the pauldron plating his shoulder before I had fully realized where I was.

His big head pulled back, emerald eyes meeting mine. Barely a hair’s breadth between our faces. I had dropped to a crouch beside him, and after a long pause where I found myself trapped in his eyes… I pulled back my hand.

He growled quietly, glancing off to the side.

“Are you alright?” I asked tentatively.

He offered a grunt, shrugging one big shoulder. “I will be fine.”

The half-orc shifted his weight, nearly bumping into me as he moved to yank himself back to his feet clumsily. He got almost halfway there before he started staggering again. Once more, I jumped forward, forgoing my previous embarrassment and hesitation to shove my shoulder into his. Propping his larger body up with mine to the best of my ability.

“You certainly don’t seem fine.” I shot back. I saw his hand move from his side as he tried to find his balance, and my eyes went wide with shock to see his side gashed and bloody beneath. “You’re bleeding!”

It was his turn to scoff. “It’s barely a flesh wound.” He grumbled.

“Barely a flesh wound?” I echoed, shaking my head incredulously. “You can’t stand straight. I think we’ve passed the notion of ‘barely’.”

Erramun shrugged, shifting his weight and slowly easing himself back to his own feet. But I noticed him look me over again. I wondered what he was thinking as he did. Did he find me as annoying as I found him? Some errant fly he just couldn’t seem to get rid of? I shuffled my feet in the snow, casting my own attention over towards the castle. Then back at him. I realized now that some of that previously unidentified substance smeared across his filthy skin and furs was probably blood. I could smell it a little now that I was closer, the air had a tangy iron bite to it. It made my stomach twist a little more in guilt.

“... Where are you headed?”

He shrugged again, wincing as he did and his hand returning to clutch at his side. “I haven’t figured that part out yet.”

I groaned. He was an idiot. An absolute, bonafide dumbass. I was quickly realizing that I couldn’t in good conscience leave him again. But I couldn’t exactly bring a bloody and wounded orc through the front gates either. I didn’t imagine I would much enjoy the lecture I would get from Niko once the truth came out. My stomach twisted further with dread at the thought. My mind raced through the other options. Leaving him in the outer city? The stubborn ass would probably end up on my doorstep again. Send him away? I was surprised he had made it as far as he had already. I wasn’t sure he would make it to the road without help now. So what did that leave me with? I almost groaned again, but settled for a sigh as I made up my mind.

“How did you get here?” I asked him, collecting up my bag.

“Eh?” He blinked at me.

I sighed again, more heavily this time, and hoped it was the blood loss making him thicker than a brick wall. “How did you get here?” I repeated. “Did you ride?”

He nodded after a moment. “I have a horse.”

“Well, that’s how most people ride, yes.” I returned, shaking my head. “Come on. Let’s go.”

“You’ll introduce me to the Princess?” He asked, and I thought his voice sounded a few octaves higher with his suddenly piqued interest.

I resisted the urge to wince myself, clearing my throat and shouldering my pack. “I didn’t say that.” I followed him as he staggered back along his own trail in the snow. “But if I leave you out here, you’ll probably freeze to death or something. And I don’t want that on my conscience.”

He snorted, shaking his own head. “I would not die.”

I almost laughed at that. “Indeed. You seem far too stubborn for such a thing.”

We had emerged to a break in the tree line, not far from the road, and found a large horse waiting there with its back legs hobbled. The big white mare whinnied excitedly as we approached, tossing her head up and down to make her mane slap upon her neck. Erramun grinned as he neared, smacking her side fondly and using her for support to maintain his balance.

“Get on.” I ordered him, giving the mare a friendly pat myself. She turned her head, flicking her ears toward me with her nostrils flaring curiously.

Erramun considered me for a moment, still leaning heavily on the mare and smearing more than a little of his blood against her white hide. Perhaps contemplating the order, and the tone with which I had issued it. Watching as I removed her hobble. He raised one eyebrow and peeked about.

“Where are we going?”

“To the castle.” I tucked the hobbling rope into a pouch on her saddle, and took my own pack off to hook over the horn of it. “I’ll take you the back way.”

“Why?”

“To avoid attention. I don’t feel like explaining to the guard why I’m dragging a bleeding orc around the city.”

“Half-orc.” He corrected me, his voice light with his teasing edge.

“So you like to remind me.” I grumbled in response, watching as he carefully hauled himself haphazardly back into the mare’s saddle. “What’s the other half? Ass?”

He laughed, and I felt a slight stiffening to my spine as the sound bounced around us. “Human.” He assured me. “Like you.”

I took up the mare’s reins, patting her nose. She lipped at my fingers, and I tickled under her chin until she gave a pleased whuff.

“Who says I’m human?” I replied lightly, careful to keep my voice overly flat as if to add to the mystery of it.

He laughed again, though softer this time. More a petering chuckle that remained trapped behind his teeth. “You smell human.”

“Smell??”

Erramun nodded. “Orcs have a good sense of smell. Not like ma’iitso, and not so much when only half-orc… but I can tell you are human when you stand close.”

I ignored the shiver that went down my spine at the reminder of our previous proximity, swallowing as I began to lead the mare back through the trees. “Ma’iitso?” I echoed the unfamiliar term by way of distraction.

The half-orc rubbed at the back of his neck, making some strange sounds in his throat. “Eh… the big wild dogs. They hunt in packs.”

“You mean matsio.” I said, realizing what he meant. “Wolves, in Common.”

He didn’t answer for a long moment, and I could almost feel his eyes boring into the back of my skull. I ignored him to the best of my ability, leading the mare not to the main road, but to a small deer trail that ran along the outside wall. Luckily, the goblins depended pretty heavily upon their enchantments. I wouldn’t have to worry about being spotted as we approached the wall and followed along the smoother track I had picked out years ago. Guards did not frequent the turrets, and I knew we would not set off the magical triggers here. Once we got into the castle? That would be a different story...

UPDATE: Part Three HERE

#orc #half orc #monster x human #monster romance #slow burn #terato #exophilia #orc lover #orc boyfriend #frenemies #reluctant mutuals #monster lover #monster boyfriend #Burdened by the Stars #Royal Flush Sequel #li'un ma shkio

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defensefilms · 3 years

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Defense Films Names His Top 5 Favorite Rappers

In All It’s Infinite Glory And Magnanimity, Defense Gives You His Top 5 Favorite Rappers.

5. 50 Cent

To this day, when you need a playlist for a MMA class and the group is hella diverse, you’re not really sure which way to go with it, pop in that 50. Can’t go wrong with Get Rich Or Die Trying (the original), or even that G-Unit Beg For Mercy.

That run from late 2002-2005/06 was unlike anything you’ll ever see again. That was a perfect situation where there was organic support from fans and there were people at a business level, mainly 50, that knew how to turn it into the wave that it became and industry has been trying to replicate this ever since.

While most people remember is the numerous scandals, beefs and controversies of that time but it was the music that moved the audience. For all the ways 50 Cent’s success mirrors ruthless American capitalism, his debut album is low key one of the most inspiring albums you’ll ever listen to.

It’s a foxhole mentality on wax. It’s me-versus-you type thinking. It’s someone has to lose and I’ll be damned. It’s who ever has to get hit, is gonna get hit.

See the first time I listened to it, it was about “In Da Club”, “Wanksta”, you know the more palatable records that got on radio and all that but the more I listened the more I realized, it was actually built on the backs of songs like “Patiently Waiting”, “Many Men”, “Back Down”, “Don’t Push Me” and “Gotta Make It To Heaven”. On one side it’s as motivational as you can think of but it’s not the wacky kind of naivé motivational talk because it’s willing to get it’s hands dirty and go in to much grittier ideas.

Like his predecessors, 50 pulls off the trick of balancing easy-to-listen-to records on a foundation of graphic and aggressive songs.

Recommended Songs: Maybe We Crazy, When It Rains It Pours

4. Jedi Mind Tricks

I’ll give you props if you know who these man are but they are legends. Point blank. Violent By Design will forever rank as one of the great group albums in hip-hop history. Vinny Paz, Jus Allah and producer/DJ Stoupe The Enemy of Mankind, gave hip-hop a shockwave they weren’t ready for, especially back in 1999.

Hip-hop as a business wasn’t ready to market a group, whose themes were rooted in topics like government control, military warfare, covert control tactics, religion and psychological warfare. To have all that in one bundle wasn’t something that big time A&R’s were ready for.

Had they started this group in 2010, they would have walked in to a business landscape that was far more suitable to who they were as an act and as MC’s.

Even with that JMT still enjoyed a lot of notoriety and they definitely succeeded in establishing their following, despite the odds.

While Violent By Design may serve as the magnum opus of their body of work, their run really starts in 1997 with the Psycho-Social, Biological & Electro-Magnetic Manipulation Of Human Kind.

Yes guy, that’s an album title. You gotta think now, I was in high school the first time I heard this and I was very into conspiracy theories and nonsense, so this album hit me right between the eyes. The idea that someone could use the medium of hip-hop in this way was crazy and the album would have been more than 10 years old when I first heard it.

No, the hip-hop historians among us will argue that Wu-Tang were a better and more influential group and I’d tend to agree, I can also bust back and say, “these dudes took Wu-Tang’s formula and gave it a whole different edge.”

I’ll break it to you like this, Wu-Tang gave the world swordsmanship and the first projectile weapons like bow and arrows, spears and the likes. Jedi Mind Tricks gave the world gun powder, advanced modern explosives and semi-automatics. You see what I mean?

Recommended Songs: Untitled, Retaliation Remix

3. Jay-Z

No top rappers list is complete without my man. The only reason he ain’t higher is because, I rate a rapper more highly if they’re in the prime of their musical abilities. If this were an all-time list he’d be way way higher.

Beginning with Reasonable Doubt is really the only place to start when it comes to Jay. The production, the skits, the way every sentence was so tightly wound together, the word selection and sentence construction. It’s remembered as an album of hits because of tracks like “Cant Knock The Hustle”, ”Feelin It” and “Brooklyn’s Finest” but Reasonable Doubt was really defined by “Dead Presidents”, “D’evils”, “Politics As Usual” and “Can I Live”.

The first batch of songs gave the album some relatability, as far as depicting club vibes and nightlife glamour because that second batch of songs were all built on darker themes like betrayal, jealousy, greed, blind ambition and deception. That combination of themes as well as the production to match each one is why that album will always rank high among a certain listenership.

With that being said, never make the mistake of thinking Jay or any man is perfect. There’s like a 3 album run where there’s moments of dope-ness but not a truly complete album.

Still with that, songs like “Imaginary Player” and “Where I’m From” will rank among his best songs.

It’s only when you get to The Blueprint can you start to see Jay perfecting the art of crafting, whole, complete albums that bump from start to finish. The Blueprint was near perfection in this regard. “U Don’t Know”, “Heart Of The City” and “Momma Loves Me” will rank as his best efforts and yeah, I skipped a few.

The Black Album replicated the Blueprint’s listenability, while also dealing in topics that created an album that sounded very personal to Jay.

All told, the best parts of his catalogue are so strong that there is no denying his place on my list.

Recommended Songs: Dead Presidents, I Love The Dough

2. Action Bronson

I cannot for the life of me fathom how this man doesn’t get the love but the real ones know.

The mixtape download era (2010-2017 give or take), had many unlikely success stories. An overweight white guy, who grew up cooking in his parents deli/eatery, turned pro-chef then turned rapper, is beyond unlikely. Only the internet could allow this man to succeed and thank the hip-hop gods it did.

From 2012 to about 2018, Action was one of the only constants in my playlist. I still remember where I was the first time I heard “Brunch”. His catalogue starting with the Tommy Mas produced, Dr Lecter and boasting full collaborations albums along side Statik Selektah and the Alchemist, and of course the classic Blue Chips series. This man’s prime will be underrated.

If you’re going to take one chapter of Bronson’s art and study it, it’s going to be Blue Chips 1 and 2. Both are thematically perfect without ever trying to be. Which is what allowed Party Supplies to make production choices that grabbed you from the jump. From the first time you hit play on the opening of Blue Chips 1, you’re hit with the sound of falling shards of glass and a violin sound that makes the opening song un-skippable. The songs themes are also a perfect introduction to the man himself. Debauchery, expensive taste, hedonism, revelry, unabashed pleasure-seeking, drug use and just enough self-depreciation that you felt you were along for the ride rather than just a fly on the wall, turning your nose in disgust. It was a perfect mixtape, at a time when mixtapes were at a crazy dumb high standard.

It’s not so much that a rapper made punchlines about food, that would be an over-simplification and really missing the trick. It’s that he made everything he said sound like the dopest thing ever and the most underrated trick about his music is that he made grown man rap without needing to be thuggin’. A rare feat.

Bronson has since gone on to establish himself as a content creator/producer/food review guy but man, what he accomplished as a complete body of work is nothing short of astonishing.

Recommended Songs: Midget Cough, Bonzai

1. Headie One

So it’s late last year. I’m hanging with my boy Phil and Brown, we had just finished some content and Phil says “yo listen to this”. He proceeds to play Golden Boot and it hasn’t stopped bumping since.

A UK rapper with a lyrical nous and wit that rivals even legends like Jay-Z, but rapping over trap and drill beats. What Headie One is doing is not the norm and I’m talking in terms of his lyrics, sentence construction, word selection, metaphors, he does it all and like all the greats, he makes it look easy.

His collaboration with RV definitely helped mold him, with both the “Sticks and Stones” and “Drillers and Trappers” mixtapes giving you an idea of what Headie offers as a lyricist. He compliments RV’s brash, aggressive boasts with slightly less obvious but incredibly witty boasts of his own.

His discography though really starts to peak with 2018′s “The One”. That’s where Headie begins find a sweet spot between his lyrics, production and the themes of his songs. A mixtape like this can only exist via independent release because outside of the aforementioned “Golden Boot”, ain’t none of those songs getting any radio play especially in a country as “conservative” as England. Even in a genre saturated with gangsta/trap, “The One” stands out for what he accomplishes lyrically.

Headie would follow that by releasing “The One Two” in June of 2018 and he ascends even more in what he’s able to accomplish with the words.

The track “Banter On Me” should be in an all-time list somewhere for being the wittiest track of all time. The song is literally just Headie finding new and innovative ways to boast, call out and bait his foes. Hip-hop/Rap has plenty of beef songs that weren’t really direct call outs to any known public figure but were still definitely taking shots at someone. 50 cent’s “Wanksta” and “Officer Down” are some examples of such songs I can think of. Those did not really have the kind of wit Headie displays here. The constant streams of alliterations, double meanings, puns, metaphors, inferences and innuendos is just astonishing. There’s a real mastery of language at play here. The song is a lesson in language, no textbooks.

Headie has since released his debut album along with additional tracks for the delux version of the album. His debut studio release “Edna” does what studio releases are supposed to do. “Parle-Vouz Anglais” and “Aint It Different” will standout and are difinitely the most palatable songs as far as radio play. Those are the 2 songs I’d play for first time listeners.

Recommended Songs: Hard To Believe, Dues, Zodiac

#music #hip-hop #rap #50 cent #jedi mind tricks #jay z #action bronson #headie #headie one

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anotherbeingsworld · 4 years

Text

Our Do Nothing Day

Pairing: Bryce x F!MC (Casey Valentine)

Characters: Bryce Lahela, Casey Valentine, Louis Lahela(OC), Keiki Lahela, Sienna Trinh, Jackie Varma, Elijah Greene.

Rating/Warnings: G/FLUFFY AT ITS FINEST.

A/N: Hi! I am back with a new one, and this is inspired by the legendary show ‘Phineas and Ferb!’ I loved that show so much, and I decide to use one of the songs from the show as an inspo! (I am actually binging P&F songs at the moment lol). I had a pretty rough day with everything that is happening in my life, and...writing really helps a lot and.. writing Bryce especially made a girl happy :) . I hope all of you enjoy it!

PS- Link to the inspo song, Do Nothing Day from Phineas and Ferb! Also, the gif is somehow not from the inspo episode , since the real one can’t be found! I apologize for any grammar mistakes and all! Enjoy!

Tags: @bitchloveskcbaseball , @storyofmychoices , @jaxsmutsuo , @mvalentine , @princess-geek , @lahellacute , @kacie-0156 , @simp-for-villains , @annekebbphotography , @brycelahel , @mrsbhandari , @dcbbw , @choicessa , @choices-confessions , @aylamwrites , @fantasyoverreality98

LINK TO MY MASTERLIST

A day off is rare for both of the doctors since they aren’t used to a free day without emergencies surrounding them. They decide to have the day for the two of them since, with Louis being born and their hectic shifts, they haven’t gotten to chance to have much alone time with one another.

The day was early, as the knock on the door was heard. Casey happily opened the door to be greeted with her friends, and a smiling Keiki waiting outside their door. All of her friends made their way inside to the apartment, as they settled in.

‘All of them agreed on watching Louis, as Keiki wanting to spend more time with her nephew. Louis is growing every day, and Keiki had vowed on not wanting to miss a thing after he was born.

Bryce walks into the living room, with 2-year-old Louis fresh out of the bath. He is smiling happily at the sight of the company, especially when Keiki holds her arms out to hold him. Louis accepted her arms happily, as the two of them bond away.

Casey smiles at the sight of them, as her friends are trying to entertain Louis with the help of Keiki. Bryce took a cup of coffee that was made, as his eyes follow her direction.

‘We are really lucky to have them.’

Casey nods, as she took a sip of the coffee once more before she placed it in the dishwasher.

‘We do. Your sister is something else, Bryce.’

A smile appears on his face, as his eyes followed Keiki who is singing along to the nursery rhymes on the television with Louis happily clapping his hands. Sienna and Elijah were singing in harmony whilst Jackie just let out a sigh followed by a laugh at the commotion in front of her.

----------------------

Bryce and Casey said goodbye to Louis and the others, as they started their date for the day. Casey pulls out her phone, as she examined each plan she had for the day while he shook her head at her.

‘They say if you plan. Life tends to end up pretty badly y’ know.’ Bryce stated as he placed an arm around his wife.

Casey shook her head, as she leaned into his touch.

‘Nope, not true! I have lived my life to plan everything, and… it went by perfectly.’ Casey stutters a bit as she walks faster with Bryce besides her who just nodded at her argument.

They made their way to a local theme park she found on the web. She did a few research as she wanted to make this day perfect, for both herself and Bryce. Casey felt herself being optimistic, as she scatters on forward only to be stopped by the long line in front of them.

‘Wha-? How?! I saw the posts, they said people won’t be coming today!’ Casey lets out a sigh as the line in front of them was very very long.

‘Hey, it’s okay. We can do something else, as long as we are together okay?’ Bryce reassures her, as Casey felt a bit better. They left the theme park, as Casey pulled up the list once more to their next destination. The theatre, and unfortunately. All the tickets were sold out as well. She is still standing tall, as Bryce giving her thumbs up in a supporting manner. Moving on to the next destination, the city aquarium. As they said, third time’s a charm, right? But… little did they know, the aquarium was closed for renovations as they arrived at the entrance.

Casey smiles falter as the sign says, ‘Closed for renovations.’ Bryce stopped in his tracks at the sign, as he glances at Casey who is looking disappointed. Casey felt given up, as she sat on the sidewalk. Bryce followed suit, as he sat beside her.

‘You are right as always, ugh!’ Casey lets out a groan and she buried her face in her hands.

Bryce rubs her back slowly before he could say anything. Both of their phones beep in unison, as they took it out at the same time.

Both of them receive a message from their friend’s group chat and Keiki, with various pics of Louis playing with his toys and happily smiling from the pics. One of the pics that stood out to them is the one with Keiki holding Louis in her arms, as he is smiling widely. There was a video attached to the group chat, as Casey played it.

Sienna’s voice could be heard, as she is holding the phone.

‘Hi, Louis, smile for the camera honey!’ Sienna called out to him, as he jumps happily in Keiki’s arms.

Louis was facing the camera, as he jumped happily. Keiki is holding his arm, as a small attempt to wave at the camera.

‘Louis said, have fun to mommy and daddy!’ She said as Louis moves his little arms slowly as an attempt of waving to the camera before the screen fades.

Casey felt a smile appear on her face, as she played the video once more. Bryce did the same, as he pulled her into his arms as they stood silently on the pavement.

‘It’s not your fault Cas, you didn’t know.’ He rubbed her back as she leaned her head on his shoulders.

‘I know… I wanted today to be perfect for us.’ Casey’s voice is small as she lets out a sigh.

‘It’s already perfect with you here okay?’ He reassures her once more as her smiles appear once more.

Bryce’s face lit up as an idea dawned on him. He stood up, as she followed suit.

‘I have an idea, let’s go.’

They drive for half an hour, as they finally arrived at the spot. It was already evening, as they reached the destination. There were parents and kids are having fun, vendors were selling food, and they even had a stage set for performing along with a projector where the kids were watching Phineas and Ferb happily. The place has its charms as Casey’s eyes went wide at the beauty of the whole place.

‘How did you find this place?’

Bryce shrugs as they started to walk towards the entrance. The places weren’t as packed as the theme park, but… the sight of it had made her smile as her eyes traveled through the whole landscape of the place.

Casey was mesmerized by the whole place that she left Bryce behind, as she stopped as smelled the flowers. There was a variety of them, as she took a couple of photos for future-keeping. She turns around, as she felt a tap on her shoulder.

Her head turns, to be meet with Bryce who was holding a picnic basket and a bundle of flowers in his hands. Casey felt her eyes widen at it all.

‘How did this get here?!’ Casey asked in disbelief gesturing to the basket and the flowers. He passed the flowers towards Casey, as she accept it happily.

‘I magically appear it on my own.’ Bryce replies happily as Casey groans at him. He shakes his head, as he walks forward leaving her behind. She immediately runs towards his direction, as he leads them to an empty spot a few feet away from the projector area where the kids were happily watching the show.

The spot was empty, as Bryce pulls out a blanket from the basket. He places it down the grass, as they sat down happily. The sight of it all made Casey happy. The kids running around, as bubbles were floating into the sky. It somehow felt like it was taken from a movie.

Bryce lays out the food, as Casey glances at him with gentleness in her eyes.

‘You are amazing, you know that?’ Casey said as she took a bite from the deliciousness in front of her.

‘Hey, I did what I can. We deserved this, and it feels amazing to just… settled down for a while.’ Bryce said happily as they sat continue eating. After the food is done, Casey lays her head on his shoulders as they watched Phineas and Ferb as the park was doing a marathon of old episodes. She smiled at the sight of the classic show, which is one of her favorites growing up.

‘I remember every detail about this episode!’ Casey said as she is reminiscing her whole childhood through that one episode.

‘Is that so? Tell me what happens next.’ Bryce challenges her, like the scene where the dinosaur slide that Candace is building starts to fly away.

‘Alright, the dinosaur would land at the town’s fair where Candace’s boyfriend, Jeremy, and his band are performing there.’ Casey said with full confidence as she observes the scene closely and, lets out a whoop as she nailed it.

‘Fine, fine. Never underestimate the one and only Casey Lahela.’ He said as he kissed her cheek.

They sat in silence as the song started to play from the episode, which is one of Casey’s favorite song from the whole series. Honestly, all of the songs from the show are amazing, like… good. But, this one stood out to her today somehow, as she is having a good and relaxing day-off with the love of her life as Jeremy sings the lyrics that describe their day perfectly.

Slow down and look around you (all around)

Throw your to-do list away

The clouds look like sheep and vice versa

On a do-nothing day (on a do-nothing day)

On a do-nothing day.

The episode ends with the credits, as the song was played once more. Casey sang along to the lyrics as she reminisces the day they had today… she would learn a thing a two of living in the moment with Bryce. She didn’t worry much as they have a whole lifetime together to enjoy the ride. But, right now.

She took a glance at him, as the world around them fades.

‘This is the best day ever.’ She whispered to him, as he lets out a small laugh at the statement.

‘Are you sure? What about our wedding day? Or… the day Louis is born?’ He raised an eyebrow as an attempt to play with her.

‘It’s in the top-five list alright!’ She lays her foot down with that statement as they are finally ready to call it a day.

The sun is setting, as they made their way back home. It wasn’t the perfect date she had planned out instead, its something entirely different. It was their do-nothing-day and, Casey looks forward to more days like this with her family in the future.

THE END

A/N #2: I hope all of you enjoy it! Thank you so much for reading it! - A

#bryce x mc #bryce lahela #open heart #casey valentine #bryce x casey #anotherbeingsworldwrites #fluff #phineas and ferb

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secret-engima · 4 years

Note

1) So, idea number one: the Armiger! I was wondering if some of the galahdian magic users sneak around to the Lucian royal tombs to gather the royal arms, but then I realized, they have over a hundred generations of magic users. The Galahdian magic users have THEIR OWN ROYAL ARMS. THEN I remembered how community oriented your Galahd is, and what if the 'royal arms' aren't from specific 'kings/queens', but one from each Clan that's part of the bloodline?

a-world-in-grey said: 2) So you have Clans Ulric, Altius, Ostium, Arra, etc. Whenever a new Clan joins the bloodline, the Clan Chief of the individual joining calls up the other Clan Chiefs and they decide on the Clan Arm. So then, when completing the armiger, magic users have to go around to each Clan and get their approval to wield their Clan Arm, something that probs brings the Clans closer together I'd think. But then I'm thinking, well, how many clans would that be?

a-world-in-grey said: 3) And, well, that answer is probably quite a few. Given the sheer NUMBER of Galahdians descended from Ardyn? Even if each descendant only had two kids, there's still a HUNDRED generations to account for, not including those of Somnus' line adopted in. By the 25th generation you've got over 33 MILLION people alone! So I think it's safe to say that it's easier to count how many galahdians AREN'T of Ardyn's/Somnus' line. Of course, not every magic user goes around collecting the Clan Arms.

4) And few magic users probably bother to collect ALL of the Clan Arms, because THERE ARE SO DAMN MANY. Those who do are considered especially dedicated, because the amount of effort in going and asking permission from Every Clan is... astounding. I wouldn't be surprised if those individuals end up becoming something like Arbitrators for inter-Clan disputes, because they'd have the respect of every Clan.

Me: I LOVE THIS IDEA. I LOVE IT SO MUCH. I am going to be expanding on that like WHOO. That each Clan has a representative weapon that serves as a Royal Arm is GREAT, and by this point I’m ... pretty sure that ALL of the Clans carry the bloodline to some degree or another. Some, like the Ulrics, the Ostium, and the Altius are 100% magical because of how much blood has mingled over the years, but other Clans that lived farther away or had bad relations with the Ulric Clan in different points in history (like the Bellum) still treat magic wielding Clan members as something of a rarity compared to the overall Clan population. But yeah it’s definitely easier to count who DOESN’T have magic than who DOES. Overall I’m thinking there are- idk 20-30 Clans in Galahd? Which means I have a lot of Clan names to make up for reference if nothing else (though I will NOT be making entire populations for each Clan, I’d lose my mind). Anyway, that means there are like- 20-30 Arms (not called Royal Arms, maybe called Storm Arms or Clan Arms or something along those lines).

Each Clan Arm is totally unique to the Clan too, and few travel to all the Clans because of the distance involved, not to mention the Trials that go into earning each Arm (some Clans favor the Hunt, some favor Wave-Riding, some favor those who can recite the Ancient Stories off by heart or perform the old songs before the entire Clan with perfection and passion, the list of Trials are almost endless and fairly unique to each Clan). But I think it would be a Rite of Passage to go to like- the nearest three and earn their Clan Arm (your own Clan counting as the fourth) so that no magic-wielding Galahdian is without at least four Clan Arms to choose from in a fight.

The ones that do go on to earn every single Clan Arm are indeed unique and treated with Immense Respect and are known as the Vitae, after the First to come to Galahd’s shores. They mediate Clan disputes and it is ONLY Vitae that are allowed to leave to the mainland to Keep Watch, because anything less would be considered in too much danger. I’m thinking there’s at least like- between 5-10 Vitae per generation, so since three generations tend to co-exist at the same time that’s anywhere from 15-30 Vitae wandering the islands and taking turns wandering the mainland in groups of four to keep an eye on current politics, technology, and for any “new Ulrics” that need to be safely brought home.

But more on them and the Clan Arms in the next ask I think XD. Because I have IDEAS.

#SE asks #a-world-in-grey asks #Thrown to Wolves verse #Secret Engima Rambles #galahd culture

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twdeadlysins · 5 years

Text

Bloodletting: Part Two

Season two, episode two (2/2)

Pairing: Eventual Daryl Dixon x Reader

Word Count: 3,098

Warnings: Slow burn, the usual walking dead violence, language, blood, and such with possible typos

Author’s Note: I don’t own anything from The Walking Dead, so all credit goes to their respective owners. This is a twd series rewrite with the reader inserted into the mix. I did and will continue to use dialogue from the actual show because I want it to be similar to what you’ve already watched, but obviously have the reader in it.

Sorry it’s been a while since I’ve uploaded another part for this series. Writer’s block, lack of motivation, and just life has been factors in why I haven’t. I’m trying to get back into the groove of things! <3

If you want to be (un)tagged for this series rewrite, don’t hesitate to send me an ask, message me, or leave a comment and I’ll add/remove you. The same goes for any other fics! I’m in no way, shape, or form a writer. Any feedback is appreciated, but hate is a different story. Thank you and enjoy!

The gifs I use aren’t mine, so all credit goes to their respective owners.

MASTERLIST // TWD SERIES REWRITE

Daryl and the others were casually strolling through the woods to go back to the interstate before they heard a bloodcurdling scream ring out in the silence. The hunter raced with the group close behind in the direction it was coming from while he went for his crossbow on his shoulder. Andrea was on the ground crawling backwards as a walker was trying to nab her, but a woman with ear length brown hair rode on a horse with a bat in hand, striking the dead with a blow to the head.

The woman urgently asked the blonde if she was Lori, obviously in a rush and desperate to find her. Carl’s mother announced she was Lori and so the mysterious woman said that Rick had sent her and that she needed to come with her. Lori was baffled and didn’t understand what was going on and frankly Daryl didn’t either.

“There’s been an accident, Carl’s been shot. He’s still alive, but you’ve got to come now.” Lori’s eyes widen with her mouth gaped open in shock to the point where she didn’t move a muscle, just wandering her eyes back and forth unable to say or do anything. “Rick needs you, just come,” the woman strictly urged and that managed to make Lori snap out of it as she quickly shrugged off her backpack.

Daryl whipped his head towards the mother. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. We don’ know this girl, you can’t get on that horse!” but she didn’t listen as she continued to hop up onto the mammal.

“Y/N said you had others on the highway, that big traffic snarl? Backtrack to Fairburn road, two miles down is our farm. You’ll see the mailbox, the name is Greene.” After that she galloped off into the woods where the group just came from leaving the others to comprehend what had just happened and the hunter to fire an arrow into the walker’s head that sat up with a wheeze.

The travel back to the highway was quiet and left Daryl to think about what had happened. She mentioned Rick, Carl and Y/N by name, so she obviously knew them and the shot that rang out prior was consistent with her story, she didn’t seem like a threat either… just sincere. The archer couldn’t do anything, but inform Dale and T-Dog about what occurred and then meet up with Rick at the farm tomorrow. Dale questioned with concern about Carl being shot, so Glenn elaborated about them not knowing since they weren’t there and a girl had swooped Lori up and took her.

“You let her?” Dale inquired towards Daryl which made him get defensive.

“Climb down out of my asshole, man. Rick and Y/N sen’ her, even knew Lori n’ Carl by name,” he retorted, brushing past the old man while Andrea angrily walked into the RV. Dale had asked if she was okay after learning that her screams were due to a walker, but all she gave him was a heated glare.

Shortly after, everyone was discussing about going to the farm, but Carol refused to leave which led to Dale point out that they were split- scattered and weak. “What if she comes back and we’re not here? It could happen.” Carol made a valid point, but so did Dale and it was a tough decision to think about. If Sophia made her way back to the highway and they weren’t there, it would be horrible. Everyone was searching for her and the place she knew where her group would be was the interstate, so to not see them there… she would feel helpless and wander someone where else… she would never be found.

Daryl had a plan, tomorrow morning would give them a chance to rig a big sign and leave her some supplies. He was going to stay with the RV tonight leading Dale and Andrea to stay back as well. Glenn wanted to too, but was instructed to go- to reconnect with the group and get T-Dog there since he had a blood infection that went from bad to worse. Learning that information sparked an idea from hunter, so he went to his motorcycle- Merle’s rather and snatched an oily rag off to get what he was really looking for inside his pouch… a bag of prescription meds. Daryl tossed the dirty cloth to Dale, scolding him for leaving it on his brother’s motorcycle and asked why he had waited so long to say anything.

The archer searched through his brother’s stash for something that could help T-Dog with his infection. He threw a bottle of strong painkillers to Glenn and oxycycline to Dale stating that the medication was top quality, not the cheap stuff and with that he walked away.

After you had provided Maggie with the rest of your group’s location, you settled into a wooden rocking chair looking off into the sunset lit field still huddled in a blanket. Rick had came outside not long after and stood with his hands on his hips, his signature stance, and you could tell by his expression, he was thinking.

“Hey,” you softly called, making him break out of his thoughts and turn his head to look down in your direction, not making eye contact with you. “Carl will get through this- you guys will get through this. Maggie went to go get Lori, Shane is out there with Otis to get those damn supplies, and you’re here, giving your blood. Everything will be fine.” Rick nodded his head, going through what you said to him in his head before giving you a small smile, finally looking at you.

Hershel came out of the house and went to stand beside your best friend after giving you a concerning look to which you just smiled hoping it would assure him you were fine. You still had a fever, but overall the medicine was helping with your infected wounds and easing the bruised bone that was your hip. The two men talked about Hershel’s house and how it’s been in his family for over 160 years and it hasn’t been touched by the dead which was a miracle. Walkers were everywhere it seemed, but this place- this farm makes the world seem normal, like the apocalypse didn’t even occur. He elaborated that he had lost friends, neighbors… family. His wife and stepson’s death was the result of the epidemic, but his daughters were spared and he was grateful to God for that. “These people here, all we’ve got left is each other. Just hoping we can ride it out in peace ‘till there’s a cure.”

“We were at the C.D.C… it’s gone now. There is no cure,” Rick informed which brought a wave of sadness to course through you not only because of the tragic event, but also that there was no cure- that there was no stopping the walkers. It was your life now and you’d have to survive through it if you wanted to live that is.

“I don’t believe it,” Hershel chuckled. “When AIDS came along, everyone panicked. One boy in town came down with it and some people pulled their children from school, so they didn’t have to sit in the same room-”

“This is a whole other thing-”

“That’s what we always say, ‘This one’s different’-”

“Well, this one is,” Rick blatantly said, trying to get his point across since it wasn’t reaching Hershel’s head.

The old man lightly snickered and you knew he was going to continue the debate. “Mankind’s been fighting plagues from the start. We get our behinds kicked for a while then we bounce back. It’s nature correcting herself, restoring some balance.” You managed to barely roll your eyes at his statement not agreeing or believing that was the case. Rick gave him a ‘bitch-da-fuck’ look that clearly yelled he wasn’t convinced. “I wish I could believe that.”

“No disrespect Hershel, but I don’t believe that shit either and never will. Do you really think nature is correcting herself with the fucking apocalypse? People are not even human anymore and you think a cure will make it all better? I’ve seen their insides hanging out and they were walking around like it was a flesh wound, no cure can fix that.” You couldn’t hold your tongue anymore, you had the urge to voice your opinion to hopefully open up his eyes, but you had a feeling it would take more than words to change that. Before he could even think of an answer, you could hear hooves galloping in the distance.

Once Lori got off the horse, she stood there and started to sob as Rick made his way over to elope her in a hug that tugged at your heartstrings. Her grip on him was tight and they rocked back and forth a couple times before Lori started to walk forwards making her husband walk backwards desperately wanting to get to her boy. The two of them proceeded to walk towards the room and you plopped down on the couch wanting to give them their privacy and space.

“Here.” You glanced up to see Hershel offering you some more medication and a glass of water, so you took the pills out of hand and tossed them in your mouth before grabbing the glass to swallow the contents. “Thank you,” you muttered earning a nod in return as he pivoted to go into the kitchen. “Hey, Hershel,” you softly called and he halted to peer at you. “I’m sorry ‘bout earlier, I just… I tend to curse a lot and loudly voice my thoughts and opinions… especially when I keep them bottled up.”

“It’s okay, Y/N, I don’t blame you,” he assured before disappearing into the other room, but the little voice in your head kept pestering you, telling you that he was lying. You shook your head and mumbled for it to shut up and took another sip of the water before scooting back into the couch, hugging the blanket around yourself.

“Y/N,” you heard someone call. You lifted your head and bewilderingly scanned around the room for the source since you had just woken up from a nap. Hershel was standing near the dining table raising a glass of orange juice with another in his other before setting one on the wooden surface. Once you limped your way to the table and into a chair to drink the juice, Lori was helping a pale Rick into the room making you choke on the liquid at his sickly appearance.

Hershel gave Rick the other glass, ushering him to drink more once he took a sip and was about to put it down. “Rick you look paler than me, drink the whole damn thing,” you joked, earning a glare from the deputy, but he complied.

Lori placed both of her hands on the back of the chair across from you for support as she spoke. “Okay, I understand when Shane gets back with this other man-”

“Otis,” Hershel corrected, making you take a sip while peering at the interaction before you, having a feeling this was going to get tense.

“Otis, the idiot who shot my son.” When you choked the first time, it was minor, just a little clear of your throat and you were fine, but this- this sent you over the edge. You set down the glassware as you coughed, earning concerned expressions to which you held your index up for them to wait. “Oka-okay continue, m-sorry,” you said with a tiny smile as you cleared the itch creeping up your throat, going for your cup praying nothing else would make you go into a coughing fit again.

“Ma’am, it was an accident,” Hershel softly assured, but Lori wasn’t having any of it as she told him she’d take that into advisement later, but for now he was the idiot who shot her son. You couldn’t help finding the whole conversation amusing how Lori was blatantly dissing Otis and you didn’t blame her, but you didn’t entirely blame Otis either. Yes, he should’ve been more aware before pressing the trigger, but at the end of the day it was an accident.

Rick placed his hand on top of hers. “Lori, they’re doing everything they can to make it right.”

You nodded agreeing with your best friend, both palms wrapped around your glass. “Otis feels guilty… obviously someone would feel that if they accidentally shot a kid,” you muttered, glancing into your half full cup, before peering back up and clearing your throat noticing you said that out loud. “He’s trying to redeem himself, tagging along to go to a walker infested high school to get the supplies needed to save Carl, so… let’s go easy on the guy, okay?”

“Okay, as soon as they get back you can perform this surgery?” Lori questioned seeming to hear, but ignore what you and Rick had said. “I’ll certainly do my best.” Rick’s wife nodded at his response before asking if he’s ever done the procedure before. “Well, yes, in a sense.”

“In a sense?” She said and your brows furrowed and titled your head in confusion. “What do you mean in a sense? You’ve either done it or not doc,” you replied.

Rick made a remark about how they didn’t have the luxury of shopping for a surgeon to which Lori lightly chuckled knowing that before she inquired for assurance that Hershel was a doctor.

“Yes, ma’am, of course. A vet.”

Your orbs widen and you spit out the orange juice understanding exactly what type of doctor Hershel really was, but Lori wasn’t on the same page. Rick and Lori gave you a ‘wtf’ look before going back to Hershel with hope in her eyes. “A veteran? A combat medic?” You shook your head as you wiped the juice off of your face, waiting for Hershel to inform them.

“A veterinarian.” You peered over at the couple and the look on their faces… they were shocked to hear that the only patients he has ever had were animals. Lori put her reaction aside and asked what animal he’s done the type of surgery on before. As she started listing a few mammals, Rick quietly announced he had to sit and as he did so, he lost his balance, falling onto a chair. Everyone rushed to aid him, you even bolted up to help, but you winced at the sudden rush of movement and eased back down in your seat seeing that Lori had gotten it covered.

“Completely over your head, aren’t you?” Lori said staring at the vet after she made sure her husband was fine.

“Ma’am, aren’t we all?”

Nightfall had masked the sky as you were all watching Hershel take Carl’s blood pressure. Lori’s side was leaning against the door frame while Rick was in front of her waiting for the vet to report an update. Hershel had requested for you to stay off your feet for a day or two until your hip was better to deal with and your fever wasn’t too high, so you were seated in an armchair staring at the wall above the bed in a daze. This whole situation was fucked. First you get stuck at the interstate, you lose Sophia, and now Carl’s critically injured and everyone’s separated. You hoped Shane and Otis were okay, you really wished you could’ve went, but you would’ve just slowed them down or even get yourself killed in the process. The rest of the group was back at the highway and you just wanted them to get their asses to the farm because it already felt weird not being with them.

The doctor removed his stethoscope and informed that his pressure was dropping again and time was running out, so Rick hurriedly jumped the gun and demanded for him to take some more of his blood, whatever Carl needed no matter how much, give it to him and then he was gonna go… Go?

“Go? Go where?” His wife questioned in confusion catching what he said as well.

“He said five miles, they should be long back by now. Something’s gone wrong,” Rick elaborated and he wasn’t wrong. It has been hours since Shane and Otis drove off to the high school to get some supplies. Yes, it was infested with loads of walkers, but it shouldn’t have taken this long. “Are you insane? You’re not going after them.”

“Rick, listen to your wife,” Hershel advised, but Rick wasn’t listening and started to talk about them getting into trouble, but the old man reminded him he was in no condition to do anything about it. Your best friend had given too much blood, he could barely stand and even if he tried to go after them, he wouldn’t make it off the porch. Rick was stubborn and wasn’t backing down, saying if something went wrong, he had to be there. His wife sternly said his place was here and if Shane said he’d be back, then he’d be back. “Rick, I know you want to, hell I do too, but we have our limits,” you mentioned in defeat.

“I can’t just sit here!”

“That’s exactly what you do!” Lori snapped. “If you need to pray or cry or tell God he’s cruel then you right ahead, but you’re not leaving, Rick. Carl needs you… here and I can’t do this by myself,” she softly muttered. “Not this one.”

Guilt suddenly washed over you once Lori had said the last bit. She went through Rick being in hospital alone, you weren’t there for her and Carl or even Rick during that time. Sure you visited a couple times, but it was brief and usually late at night after visiting hours since you had a friend that worked in the hospital who let it slide. You didn’t want to face her because you’d blame yourself for getting him shot and now thinking back it was selfish for you to do that, but you thought it would be better if she didn’t see you. Regardless, if you had to stay put, then so did Rick. You’d just have to wait for Shane and Otis to come back from their supply run, and the others from the interstate. Once they save Carl, then him along with you and Rick will heal and get better, that’s when things will start looking up. After that, you all can resume what had you out in the woods to begin with… finding Sophia.

_____________________________________

MASTERLIST // TWD SERIES REWRITE

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theperksofbeingbarbie · 5 years

Text

The Empath (Pt 3/6)

Summary: Finding Allison’s body leaves the Umbrella Acadamy reeling. The clock is running out on the apocalypse and Harold Jenkins and Vanya are in the wind.

Set during Changes

WARNING: Description of blood and Allison’s wound; Mentions of sexual harassment; Mentions of drug use; Language.

Word Count: 1,362

Pairing: Diego x Reader; Platonic!klaus x Reader

Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Pt. 3 Pt. 4 Pt. 5 Pt. 6

A/N: I hope you guys like this! I’m honestly really enjoying writing this and am so happy it’s getting a good response! I’ve had this kind of idea since the moment I watched the show and just had to write it. Might be a few days before the next update. I work in a call center so I write between calls. I have the next couple of days off and have some things to get done around the house!

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

The car was barely at a full stop before Luther was out, running up to the house. The group followed behind as quick as they could, your breath getting stuck in your throat when you heard Luther shout Allison’s name. By the time you crossed the threshold, the heartbreak was crushing. You recoiled when another lamp Vanya hadn’t broken popped, your powers growing a bit out of control with all the emotion.

“You can wait outside,” Diego whispered, placing a hand on your shoulder.

You shook your head, trying to focus on the bit of anger that was starting to well up in Luther. He was mad at Harold Jenkins, and you were sure you can use that. Rubbing your hands together you crouched down beside the pair. “Allison, this is going to hurt,” you warned despite the woman not being completely present, placing a burning hot hand on the open wound with a grimace as the skin and blood bubbled under your hand. “Fuck. I’m sorry,” you groaned, pulling your shirt over your nose to filter the smell of burning flesh. You quickly grabbed a blanket on a nearby chair, using the left over heat in your skin to break the threads, wrapping the strip of fabric around her neck to help with any remaining bleeding. “Allison needs to get to help. I’ll drive the car she took.” You found the keys in her pocket, watching Luther carry her back out to Diego’s car.

“I’ll ride with [Y/N],” Klaus decided, following you back outside.

You followed Diego’s car, both speeding through the night. Klaus’ knee never stopped bouncing, chewing on his nail the whole ride. Diego took a few turns onto back roads, clearly using his knowledge of the cops to bypass any speed traps.

———————————-

“I don’t think she’s breathing!” Luther called once they were in front of the mansion.

Five disappeared once he was out of the car to find Grace, warning her that Allison needed help.

You stood behind Pogo as the brothers started to volunteer their blood. You were willing to volunteer your arm, but kept quiet knowing you would be denied for the same reason as Klaus. “De!” you shouted when Diego collapsed, cheeks turning deep red when you earned a look from Klaus.

You finally looked at the blood that dried on your hands and excused yourself to clean up, deciding there were more than enough people to help Allison. All the pain and sadness was devastating, causing you to shake as you watched the red water swirl down the drain. You felt Klaus walk by, his emotions all over the map. You decided to give him some space, hoping he just needed some air like you did.

You went back into the medical room to check on Diego, nodding as Grace assured you he was going to be okay. “Five? Luther? Need anything?” Five shook his head silently, Luther didn’t seem to hear you as he watched Allison’s chest just barely rise and fall. You nodded, going back through the house to find Klaus.

Hearing your friend shout, persumably at Ben, you waited in the hall. That was, until he shouted, “Sike!” “Klaus!” You jumped when someone appeared for just a moment, punching Klaus in the face, the pills going flying.

“You just Patrick Swayze-ed me! How did you do that?”

“Was that Ben?!” you shouted, causing both Klaus and Ben to look at you.

“You- He-”

“I saw Ben,” you confirmed, walking into the bedroom. You reached to the space where Ben just was, your hand passing through him. “How the hell…?”

“I think you did it,” Ben guessed, looking at the only person who could see him.

“Klaus,” you said softly, gently placing your hand on his elbow to bring his attention back to the world. “C’mon, let’s get something to eat.”

———————————

Klaus stayed silent for the first time you had ever seen. You could feel that he was confused, surprised. He ate the food you put in front of him without even looking at his plate.

You sighed, going into the other room to check on Diego with a sandwich. He was up now, nursing a bottle of water. “Hey you,” you greeted, placing the plate down beside him.

“You saw that, didn’t you?”

“The badass knife throwing Batman wannabe fainting at the sight of a little needle? Yeah, I did.” You laughed, sitting down across from him.

“You think I’m badass?” Diego asked with a flirty smirk, watching you get settled by him. “Thanks for the sandwich,” he mumbled as he took a bite, letting out a small hum of approval.

“When did we meet?” you asked after a few quiet moments, shifting in the chair to get comfortable. “I don’t remember.”

“I always check on Klaus when I’m out on patrol,” Diego admitted. “Just stop by his usual hangouts, make sure he’s still breathing. I don’t usually talk to him, but will if I think he’s in trouble. One night, you two were nodding off behind an abadoned store, a group of guys started giving you shit. One grabbed your ass, one tried shaking Klaus down.”

You nodded, vaugely remembering that night. It wasn’t completely uncommon for junkies to land in that situation. Some of your fellow addicts weren’t always as nice as Klaus and you, but people tended to leave you two alone, calling you freaks. The more that you focused on that night, the more you remembered someone pulling the guy off you and making sure you were alright. “Thank you. For helping,” you said softly, looking back up at Diego with a gentle smile.

“How have you been?” Diego didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, but he was curious.

“Clean two years. Hoping to help Klaus now that we’re back together.” You smiled fondly, pulling the cardigan tighter around yourself.

“That’s great. You look a lot better. Your eyes look… Brighter. They’re gorgeous.”

You blushed at the compliment, smiling a bit. “Thank you. I feel better. For the most part, anyway. Sometimes I’d rather just be numb, you know? Especially the last few days. Seeing Allison…” You shook your head, not trying not to get overwhelmed again. “But I know it’ll be okay if I can help stop the apocalypse.”

“Yeah, about that.” Diego finished his sandwich and marched out to the sitting room, shouting for Five. You followed behind, tapping Klaus’ shoulder to get him to follow.

———————————-

You sat beside Klaus who still seemed to be in his thoughts about what happened with Ben and his sobriety.

“That bastard that nearly killed our sister is still out there. With Vanya,” Diego said as he paced around the coffee table. “We need to go after her.”

“Vanya’s not important,” Five snapped.

“Hey, that’s your sister. A little heartless even for you, Five.”

You looked over to Klaus to see him chewing on his nails, not paying attention to the battling brothers at all.

“I’m not saying I don’t care about her, but if the apocalypse happens today, she dies along with the other seven billion of us,” Five barked back, looking up at his brother. “Harold Jenkins is our first priority.”

“He has a point,” you agreed quietly.

“I agree. Let’s go.” Diego motioned for you to follow him.

“You guys count me out,” Klaus said, waving his hand. “I mean, you know, no offense or whatever. I just… kind of feel like this is a lot of pressure for newly-sober me so….” He bowed his head, a tight lipped smile on his face.

“You’re coming,” Diego demanded.

“No, no, no. I think we can all agree my power’s… I mean, it’s pretty much useless. I’d just be holding you guys back.”

“Klaus,” you tried to reason, voice gentle and encouraging.

“Get up,” Five said much more firmly than you.

“You can’t make me,” Klaus shot back, sneering like a child.

Without hesitation, Diego threw a knife between Klaus’ legs, causing you to yelp in surprise.

Klaus held his hands up in surrender, sighing deeply. “Then again, a little exercise couldn’t hurt,” he mumbled with a faux cheerful tone as he got up to find his shoes.

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

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dailybestiary · 5 years

Text

Patch Has Issues: Dungeon #2

Issue: Dungeon #2

Date: November/December 1986 (Pretty sure my Christmas haul that year was full of dope toys from The Transformers movie/show.)

The Cover:

(Use of cover for review purposes only and should not be taken as a challenge to status. Credit and copyright remain with their respective holders.)

Ah, Clyde Caldwell. He, Larry Elmore, Jeff Easley, and last issue’s Keith Parkinson were the mainstays of TSR’s amazing stable of artists. I have a soft spot for Caldwell. He did the covers for the D&D Gazetteer series, which means his work emblazoned some of my absolute favorite books from my middle school years. (At the time I had the whole series except the two island books, GAZ 4 & GAZ 9 (which I’ve since collected), plus the Dawn of the Emperors box set. My favorites, for the record, were GAZ 3, 5, 10, and 13. I...may like elves...a little too much.) And even as I sit here, other covers demand to be named. The very first Dragonlance adventure, the iconic Dragons of Despair? The Finder’s Stone trilogy? The first Ravenloft box? Dragon #147? Yep, he did those covers too. He was amazing.

But hoo-boy, we also have to talk about the not-amazing parts. Once Caldwell settled on a way of doing things, that’s how he did them. Points for consistency, but man, he had tropes. Even his tropes had tropes. He had a way of painting dragon’s wings. He had a way of painting swords and boots. He had a way of painting jewelry, and belts and coins—ovals upon ovals upon ovals.

And his way of painting women was with as few clothes as possible. Everything I said about Parkinson last entry? Yeah, that goes double for Caldwell. He never paints pants when a thong will do. His take on the reserved and regal Goldmoon—thighs as long as a dwarf and bronzed buttcheeks exposed—reportedly left Margaret Weis in tears. Magic-users (God, I hate that term) famously couldn’t use armor in D&D and AD&D, but Caldwell’s sorceresses pretty much stick to gauze just to be safe. And the Finder’s Stone trilogy I mentioned above? Yeah, the authors of Azure Bonds took one look at Caldwell’s cover art and literally had to come up with in-text reasons why the heroine Alias—one of the most surly woman sellswords in existence—would wear armor with a Caldwell boob hole.

Don’t get me wrong, I love cheesecake as much as the next dude. (Actually that’s not true; I came up in the grunge ’90s—our version of cheesecake was an Olympia brunette in three layers of thrift store sweaters reading Sandman while eating a cheesecake. Hell, that’s still my jam.) But context matters. The sorceress from “White Magic,” Dragon #147’s cover, may barely be wearing a negligee, but she’s also in the seat of her power and probably magically warded to the hilt—she can wear whatever she damn wants; it’s her tower. So no complaints there. But this cover’s pirate queen Porky Piggin’ it seems like an unwise choice. (The friction burns alone from clambering around the rigging…)

It’s clear from reading The Art of the Dragonlance Saga that TSR was trying to turn the ship around when it came to portrayals of women in fantasy, however slowly. And in Caldwell’s defense and to his credit, he definitely delivered women with agency—in nearly every image, they are nearly always doing something active and essential. They just tend to be doing it half-dressed.

Which is all a way of saying I dig this cover—the explosion, the churning sea (even if it does more look like snow drifts than waves), the sailors all running to the rail to look—but yeah, that pirate captain needs to put on some damn pants.

The Adventures: Before we get started, I have to note that though we’re only an issue in, already the magazine feels more noticeably like the work of editor Roger Moore. This is 100% a guess, but it really feels to me like Dungeon #1 was made of adventures that the Dragon office already had laying around, whereas Dungeon #2 was composed of adventures that Roger Moore and the new Dungeon team had more of a hand in sifting through. (He also has an assistant editor this time in Robin Jenkins, which had to have helped.) Even the cartography looks better. Again, I have zero confirmation of this, but the feeling is strong.

“The Titan’s Dream” by W. Todo Todorsky, AD&D, Levels 5–9

PCs visiting an oracle accidentally walk right into a titan’s dream and must solve some conundrums to escape. What an awesome concept this is! (Spoilers for “Best Concept” section below.) It’s a shame I don’t like this more.

First of all, dreamworld adventures are really hard to do well. And for them to work, there usually need to be real stakes—and not just “If you die in the dream, you die in real life!”—and/or a real connection to the PCs in your campaign. The latter, especially, is really hard to pull off in a published adventure; typically it’s only achieved through tactics that critics deride as railroading. (For instance, @wesschneider’s excellent In Search of Sanity does a great job of connecting the characters to their dream adventures...but it does that by a) forging the connection at 1st level, and b) pretty strongly dictating how the adventure begins and how the characters are affiliated. It works, but that’s high-wire-act adventure writing.)

Being a magazine adventure, “The Titan’s Dream” doesn’t have that luxury—it’s got to be for a general audience and work for most campaigns. That unfortunately means the default “Why” of the adventure—a lord with a child, a wedding, and an alliance at stake hires the PCs to chat with a wise titan—is little more than that: a default.

On top of that...I cannot get excited about anything Greek mythology-related. To me, just the fact I’m seeing it is a red flag.

Look, Greek mythology is why I got into this hobby. Hell, it’s why I got into fiction, period. (For some reason I somehow decided I had no use for fiction books targeted to my age, with the exception of Beverly Cleary. Then in 4th(?) grade, I got a copy of Alice Low’s Greek Gods and Heroes, and the rest is history.) But Greek mythology is often the only mythology anyone knows. When people think polytheism, that’s where most people’s minds go. Which is why, if you ever played D&D in the ’80s, I pretty much guarantee your first deity was from that pantheon. (In my first game, my first-level cleric pretty much met Ares and got bitch-slapped by him, because that’s what 4th-grade DMs do.)

So to me, putting Greek deities or titans in your adventure is the equivalent of putting dudes riding sandworms into your desert adventures—you can do it, but you better blow me away, because that is ground so well trod it’s mud. And this one doesn’t do the job.

The format is three dreams, each with five scenes. Parties will move randomly—a mechanic meant to represent dream logic (or lack thereof)—through these scenes, until all the scenes from one dream have been resolved. This is actually kind of fascinating, and I wonder how it would play at the table—I have a feeling observant players will dig it, but others may find the mechanism’s charm wears off quickly, especially if they have difficulty solving the scenes or get frustrated with the achronicity of events. I also like that every scene has a number of possible resolutions, so the PCs aren’t locked into achieving a single specific objective like they were stuck in a computer game.

But...I can’t shake the feeling of weak planning and execution (or even laziness?) that stayed with me throughout the adventure. Like, okay, the first adventure is a cyclops encounter out of the Odyssey. Cool! But then...why does the Titan follow it up with pseudo-Norse/Arthurian encounter? Did the Odyssey not hold the author’s attention? (Nor the Iliad, the Aeneid, or Metamorphosis? Really?) And then why is the third dream “drawn from the realm of pure fairy tale”? Like, were you out of pantheons? Horus didn’t return your calls? Or be more specific—why not German fairy tales, or Danish, or French Court, or Elizabethan? It feels like a class project where one group was on point, one group got the assignment a little wrong, and one didn’t even try.

Again, it’s not even that this adventure is bad—I honestly can’t tell if it is or not; I’m sure a lot of its success is determined at the table. And I could totally see throwing this at a party if I was out of inspiration that week or we needed a low-stakes breather before our next big arc. But the instant I think about it for more than a second, it all falls apart for me.

Have any of you tried this one? Let me know what you thought. And for a similar exploration into dream logic/fairy tale scenarios, I recommend Crystal Frasier’s The Harrowing for Pathfinder.

“In The Dwarven King’s Court” by Willie Walsh, AD&D, Levels 3–5

Willie Walsh is a name we’re going to see a lot more in issues to come—he’s a legendarily prolific Dungeon contributor, delivering quality, typically low-level, and often light-hearted or humorous adventurers issue after issue after issue. His first entry is a mystery with a time limit: A dwarf king is supposed to make a gift of a ceremonial sword to seal a treaty, but the sword has vanished. Brought to the king’s court courtesy of a dream, adventurers must find the sword and the surprising identity of the culprit before the rival power’s delegation arrives.

At first I was going to ding this adventure for its “What, even more dreams this issue?” hook...but here’s the thing with Walsh—never judge his modules until you reach the final page. Nearly every time I’m tempted to dismiss one of his sillier or more random adventure elements, it turns out that it makes sense and works just fine. In this case, the cause of the dream is haunt connected to the mystery, and I feel dumb for being all judgy.

So anyway, the PCs are given leave to search for the stolen object and the thief, but of course it turns out there is a whole lot of light-fingeredness going around. As Bryce (see below) puts it, “It’s like a Poirot mystery: everyone has something to hide.” This castle has as much upstairs-downstairs drama as any British farce, with nearly every NPC having either a fun personality and/or a fun secret (and with the major players illustrated by some equally fun portraits) that should make them memorable friends and foils for PCs to interact with. Not to mention the actual culprit is definitely a twist that will be hard explaining to the king...

GMs should be ready to adjust on the fly, though—a) it’s a lot of characters to juggle, and b) since the PCs are 3rd–5th level, the right spells or some lucky secret door searches could prematurely end the adventure as written. You may want to have some last-minute showdowns, betrayals, or other political intrigue outlined and in your back pocket if what’s on the page resolves too quickly.

Overall though, I’m a big fan of this adventure, and look forward to the rest of Walsh’s output. Also, given the dwarven focus and the geography of the land, this adventure could be a very nice sequel to last issue’s “Assault on Eddistone Point.”

“Caermor” by Nigel D. Findley, AD&D, Levels 2–4

Look at this author’s list of writing credits! Findley was amazingly prolific, and his work was pretty high-quality across the board, as far as I know. I particularly loved the original Draconomicon, one of the first and only 2e AD&D books I ever bought as a kid. I also loved his “Ecology of the Gibbering Mouther” from the excellent Dragon #160, and some of his Spelljammer supplements are currently sitting upstairs in my to-read pile, recently purchased but as yet shamefully untouched.

Now look at his age at the time of his death. Life is not always fair or kind.

(Speaking of unkind, man is the bio in this issue unfortunate in retrospect: “[H]e write for DRAGON® Magazine, enjoys windsurfing, plays in a jazz band, and manages a computer software company in the little time he has left.” As Archer would say, “Phrasing!”)

Anyway, this adventure is simple: An otherworldly force has been murdering the locals. The locals have pinned the blame on a handsome bard from out of town, and their own prejudices and general obstinacy are sure to get in the way of the investigation—that is, if the true culprits, some devil-worshipping culprits and and an abishai devil, don’t get in the way first.

All in all, this is a tight, well-written adventure, so I don’t have much to say about it, other than that if you like the idea of sending your party to help out some young lovers and save some faux-Scots/Yorkshiremen too stubborn to save themselves (and maybe slip in a valuable lesson about prejudice and xenophobia as well), this is the adventure for you.

One thing that does jump out to a contemporary reader, though, is the comically overpowered nature of the baddie pulling the strings in this adventure: Baalphegor, Princess of Hell (emphasis mine). Overpowered, you-won’t-really-fight-this-NPC happens with a lot of low-level adventures, when the writers want a story more epic than characters at the table can handle or are trying to plot the seeds for future evils. But still, any princess of Hell would already be a bit much...but an 18-Hit Dice, “supra-genius”, the Princess of Hell? Like, what the f—er, I mean, Hell?

If you use the adventure as written, the only way to have Baalphegor’s presence make sense is to eventually reveal that the area is an epicenter of some major badness. (Maybe that explains the lost nation of evil dwarves in the adventure background.) For a good model on how to seed early adventures in this matter, Dungeon’s Age of Worms Adventure Path and Pathfinder Adventure Path’s Rise of the Runelords AP, both from Paizo, are exemplars of small-town disturbances that eventually have world-shaking implications.

It’s also fascinating in retrospect to note Ed Greenwood’s massive impact in the hobby. Any article that appears in Dragon has the sheen of being at least semi-official, but it’s clear that Greenwood’s content was a cut above even that. In this case, an NPC from a three-year-old article of his is not just treated as canon, but also supplies the mastermind behind the adventure! It’s no surprise that in the following year his home campaign, the Forgotten Realms, would soon become AD&D’s newest and then its default setting.

Two final thoughts: 1) There’s some fascinating anti-dwarf prejudice in this article. Nearly every mention of dwarves paints them as exceptionally greedy and/or villains. And 2) how did one even begin to balance adventures in those days? This adventure is for “4–8 characters of 2nd–4th level.” There are a lot of difference at the extreme ends of those power scales…

“The Keep at Koralgesh,” by Robert Giacomozzi & Jonathan Simmons, D&D, Levels 1–3

One of the problems of BECMI D&D being known as “basic D&D” is that writers often assumed the players to be basic (that is, younger/new) as well. Which probably accounts for some of the early suggestions to the DM we get at the beginning of this adventure—like some pretty patronizing advice along the lines of not immediately announcing to PCs what the pluses are on their magical swords.

Fortunately, after that the article settles down and gives us Dungeon’s first real D&D adventure. In fact, not just real, but massive: 20 full pages of content—nearly half the issue! It’s a fully fledged dungeon crawl that has the PCs taking advantage of the summer solstice to open a shrine door that will lead them inside a long-ruined keep said to hold great treasure.

Now, I imagine in the coming installments it’s going to seem to many of you like I’m grading D&D adventures on a curve, because of my love for the system and the Known World/Mystara. That’s a fair accusation, but a better way to consider it is that I’m reviewing D&D adventures for what they are—adventures from a separate system, with a more limited rules system and palette of options than AD&D. You don’t go to a performance of Balinese shadow puppetry and compare it against Andrew Lloyd Webber; you look at it for what it achieves in its own medium. Since they appear side-by-side in the same magazine, comparison is going to be inevitable, but that’s with the understanding that AD&D was the kid coloring with the 64-crayon box of Crayola, while D&D was getting by with just eight.

On its own terms then, “The Keep of Korgalesh” is a decent, if not superlative, success. I love that it’s practically module-length and that we get three complete levels—a far cry from the previous issue’s side-trek-at-best, “The Elven Home.” We also get two new monsters, which absolutely fills my inner BECMI D&D player with glee. And I like that what starts as a dungeon crawl/fetch quest evolves into a “kill the big bad thing” and “find out what really happened to this city.”

There are issues, though. If the whole city was destroyed, getting to see some of it besides the keep would have been nice. Some of the ecology for the dungeon inhabitants is questionable. There pretty much wasn’t a single pool or fountain in this era of D&D adventure design that wasn’t magical, and this adventure was no exception. One of the new monster’s names makes no sense except that “tyranna” and “abyss” are cool words (I mean, I guess you could read that as “tyrant of the depths,” but still…) And there are painfully obvious borrowings from other works, especially Tolkien—a door that only opens at solstice, a lake monster, an orc with a split personality that is clearly a Gollum homage, etc.

What this adventure really needs is stakes—just something to give it a bit more oomph beyond the dungeon crawl. (Finding a blacksmith’s lost hammer is the hook offered in the adventure but it’s pretty flimsy.) Perhaps the PCs are some of Kor’s last worshippers, and clearing out the dangers here and resanctifying his temple is one of their first steps toward returning him to prominence. Maybe the PCs’ grandparents were involved in the city’s demise and restoring Koralgesh will restore the families’ honor. Or you could keep it simple and have a band of pirates or a rival adventuring group also trying to clean out the keep, turning it into a race (with the tyrannabyss causing the scales of fate to wobble at appropriately cinematic moments).

So the final analysis is this is a decent dungeon crawl upon which you can build a good adventure. The real reward of this module isn’t treasure; it’s finding out just what happened to Koralgesh. But for that to matter, it needs to tie into the PCs’ pasts, futures, or both.

BONUS CONTENT FOR KNOWN WORLD/MYSTARA NERDS: Kor is almost certainly a local name for the sun god Ixion. The chaotic deity Tram is probably a local version of Alphaks, though Atzanteotl is another strong candidate, especially since deceit was key to the pirates’ success. Koralgesh could be located somewhere on the Isle of Dawn, the northern coast of Davania, or an Ierendi/Minrothad Isle that those nations haven’t made it a priority to rebuild.

Best Read: “Caermor.” Nigel D. Findley was a pro.

Best Adventure I Could Actually Run with Minimal Prep: “The Keep at Koralgesh,” as a well-written, straight-ahead dungeon crawl. Every other adventure here relies on a pretty strong handle of very mobile NPCs and their motivations, or a Titan’s dream mechanics.

Best Concept: “The Titan’s Dream,” as noted above. It’s a great idea very worth exploring, even if I wasn’t about the execution we got in this case.

Best Monster: This was actually a monster-light issue. Despite some awesome art for the tyrannabyss, I have to go with the epadrazzil, a scaly ape from a two-dimensional plane of existence that has to be summoned via a painting. All of those details are just so wonderfully and weirdly specific it has to win. (Extra points for anyone who noticed the thoul—a classic D&D monster (though it did make its way into AD&D’s Mystara setting) born from a typo.)

Best NPC: Since this is a role-playing-heavy issue, there are a bunch of contenders, and the final verdict will go to whoever your party sparks to at the table. Obviously King Baradon the Wise should get the nod for [spoiler-y reasons], but I also really like the opportunity the executioner Tarfa offers, thanks to his incriminating goblet and how it might bring the PCs to the attention of a far-off assassin’s guild at just the right level.

Best Map: All together the maps from “The Keep at Koralgesh” form an extremely appealing whole. But for best single map I have to go for the palace of Mount Diadem—that is a bangin’ dwarven demesne.

Best Thing Worth Stealing: Jim Holloway’s illustrations of dwarves. Good dwarf, gnome, and halfling art is hard to find, and even the good stuff often leans stereotypical. While Holloway’s art is often humorous—I have a feeling he and Roger Moore jibed really well, though that’s totally a guess based purely on what assignments he got handed—his dwarves, especially in this issue, are fresh, specific, and unique. You could identify them by their silhouettes alone—always the sign of good character art. If you need an image of a dwarf NPC to show the players, “In the Dwarven King’s Court” is a great first stop.

Worst Aged: Female thong pirates on magazine covers. Also using the actual names of actual mental illnesses in game materials.

What Bryce Thinks: “This seems to be a stronger issue than #1, although half of the adventures are … unusual.”

Bryce actually almost likes “The Titan’s Dream,” confirming my loathing of it. He in turn loathes “In the Court of the Dwarven King.” Like me, though, he is pro-”Caermor” and sees potential in “The Keep at Koralgesh.” (Also credit where it’s due: I might have missed the condescension at the start if he hadn’t called it out.)

So, Is It Worth It?: If you’re a Clyde Caldwell fan, this issue might be worth searching out in print. So much of Caldwell’s work from this era was dictated by product needs, cropped and boxed up in ads, or shrunk down to fit on a paperback cover. So to get this cover in full magazine size, with only the masthead tucked up top to get in the way—that could be well worth a few bucks to you.

Also, if you’re BECMI/Rules Cyclopedia-era D&D fan (or know someone who is), again, this one might be worth having in print. “The Keep at Koralgesh” is a legit, proper BECMI D&D adventure, spanning 20 whole pages and with two new monsters to boot. I would have practically have cried if someone had given 7th-grade me this.

Beyond that you can probably just rely on the PDF. But both “Caermor” and “In the Dwarven King’s Court” have strong bones worth putting some modern muscle and skin on.

Random Thoughts:

The Caldwell cover painting was also used for the Blackmoor module DA4 The Duchy of Ten. PS: I’m not trying to tell you what to do or anything, but if you do happen to run across a physical copy of The Duchy of Ten or and of the DA modules, holla at ya boy over here.

Since this is our second issue, we now have a “Letters” column. Turns out Dungeon had been announced in Dragon #111 with a really detailed set of writer’s guidelines; most of the correspondence is questions re: those. In the process of answering, we get some surprisingly frank talk about payment. The $900 for a cover seemed low until I converted it to 2018 dollars, and ~$2,000 does seem right to my ignorant eye. I then made the mistake of converting my current salary to 1986 dollars and felt a lot worse about myself and what I’ve achieved.

Apologies this took so long to post. I had the issue read by early October and most of this review written with the next week or two after...but then I got involved in dealing with a 4.5 week hospitalization and aftermath...and then a second still-ongoing hospitalization...and even though I only had about four paragraphs left I just couldn’t find time to put a bow on it.

Notable Ads: The gold Immortals Rules box for D&D. (I also still don’t have that one yet, and Christmas is coming. Just saying, guys, if you happen to find one in your attic.) ;-) Also an ad for subscribing to Dungeon itself, starring “my war dinosaur, Boo-Boo.” No, really.

Over in Dragon: Beneath a glorious cover, Roger Moore is the new editor of Dragon #115, three authors (including Vince Garcia, who I like a lot) share credit on a massive six articles about fantasy thieves, a famous article proposing that clerics get the weapons of their deity (people were still talking about it in the “Forum” column when I was buying my first issues two years later), and a look at harps from the Forgotten Realms (notable because behind the scenes Ed Greenwood’s home setting was being developed for the AD&D game for launch in 1987.) A photographic cover and a 3-D sailing ship are served up in Dragon #116, along with maritime adventures, more Ed Greenwood (rogue stones), and articles for ELFQUEST, Marvel Super Heroes (Crossfire’s gang), and FASA’s Dr. Who game (looking at all six(!) doctors). (Incidentally, I had an Irish babysitter around this time who first mentioned Dr. Who to me—I wish I’d explored more but I was too young to understand what I’d been offered.)

PS: Yes, I’ve heard about the upcoming Tumblr ban. It is a terrible idea that will affect way too many of my readers. It shouldn’t affect me much (and I have all my monster entries backed up at the original site), but I will keep you posted as I learn more, particularly if I find you, my readers, packing up and going elsewhere.

#daily bestiary #patch has issues #pathfinder #paizo #3.5 #dungeons & dragons #dungeons and dragons #d&d #dnd #ad&d #becmi #dungeon #dungeon magazine

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douchebagbrainwaves · 5 years

Text

WHY I'M SMARTER THAN DEFCON

Close, but not as strong. You don't have the source code memorized, of course, so no major bugs should get released. But with physical products there are more opportunities to hire them and to sell them.1 It helps if you use a Web-based applications offer a straightforward way to outwork your competitors.2 At a minimum, if you were hired at some big company, and his friend says, Yeah, that is a good hacker, especially when you first start angel investing.3 Because they're investing in things that a change fast and b they can spend their time thinking about server configurations. Actually what it says is that circuit densities will double every 18 months. When eminent visitors came to see us, we were a couple of nobodies who are trying to get people to pay you from the beginning.4 It's an exciting place.

For the angel to have someone to make the medicine go down. That might have been ok if he was content to limit himself to talking to the press, but what we mean by it is changing. I wanted. And this, as you can, and your competitors can, you tend to feel rich.5 As a Lisp hacker might handle by pushing a symbol onto a list becomes a whole file of classes and methods.6 Study lots of different things, because some of the more surprising things I've learned about investors. What began as combing his hair a little carefully over a thin patch has gradually, over 20 years, grown into a monstrosity.7

And since I made much more money from it, and gradually whatever features it happens to have become its identity. We're impatient. And so all over the place. If a company is doing well, investors will want founders to turn down most acquisition offers. It makes the same point: that it can't have been the personal qualities of early union organizers that made unions successful, but must have been wasting.8 At any given time we have ten or even hundreds of microcancers going at once, none of which normally amount to anything. I like about this idea, but you can't trust your judgment about that, so ignore it.9 Because VCs like publicity. Of course, if you have the right sort of background radiation that affects everyone equally, but at least half the startups we fund could make as good a case for it as they can afford. Joe Kraus's idea that you should be smarter. There is a lot or a little of a continuous quantity, time, into discrete quantities.

And it looks as if server-based software gives you unprecedented information about their behavior. In practice a group of 10 managers to work together.10 But because he doesn't understand the risks, he tends to magnify them. Increase taxes, and willingness to take risks. You only take one shower in the morning.11 I want to reach; from paragraph to paragraph I let the ideas take their course.12 I remember when computers were, for me at least, how I write one. We're starting to move from social lies to real lies. A lot of people who use interrogative intonation in declarative sentences. Many published essays peter out in the countryside.

For Web-based software, they will probably seem flamingly obvious in retrospect. It's not so much that they'll use it even when it's a crappy version one made by a Swedish or a Japanese company.13 One is that this is a valid approach. It's not what people learn in classes at MIT and Stanford that has made technology companies spring up around them. But an illusion it was. Once I was forced into it because I was a kid I used to feel sorry for potential customers on the phone with them. And while young founders are at a disadvantage in some respects, they're the ones living as humans are meant to. If you try this trick, you'll probably buy a Japanese one. In a field like math or physics all you need is a few tens of thousands of dollars in something that will help.

Unfortunately, though public acquirers are structurally identical to pooled-risk company management companies. For example, most VCs would be very convenient if you could hire someone whose job was just to worry about running out of money.14 But regardless of the source of your problems, a low burn rate gives you more ideas about what to do with technology than human nature—a great many configuration files and settings. That's something Yahoo did understand. So I'd advise you to be skeptical about claims of experience and connections.15 So my guess is that they drift just the right amount.16 Plus he introduced us to one of their fellow students was on the line.17

But there is something afoot. Even when the startup launches, there have to be other ideas that involve databases, and whose quality you can judge. The thin end of the spectrum. Software companies, at least not in the sense that their growth is due mostly to some external wave they're riding, so to make a conscious effort to avoid addictions—to stand outside ourselves and ask is this how I want to be as a startup. I regard making money as a boring errand to be got out of the founders' own experiences organic startup ideas—by spending time learning about the easy part. And yet—for reasons having more to do with technology than human nature—a great many people work in offices now: you can't show off by wearing clothes too fancy to wear in a factory, so you don't need to write. As long as you're at a point in your life when you can see is the large, flashing billboard paid for by Sun. This essay is derived from a talk at Defcon 2005.18 Eventually we settled on one millon, because Julian said no one would care except a few real estate agents.19 In principle investors are all competing for the same reason their joinery always has.20

But I wouldn't bet on it. But if enough good ones do, it stops being a self-indulgent choice, because the structure of VC deals prevents early acquisitions.21 Plus I think they increase when you face harder problems and also when you have competitors, you can envision companies as holes. To developers, the most common form of discussion was the disputation. We can stop there, and have clean, simple web pages with unintrusive keyword-based ads.22 Which will make you think What did I do before x?23 Most investors, especially VCs, are not like founders. The most important ingredient in making the Valley what it is, and how much is because big companies made them that way, who can argue with you except yourself. These are the only way to do it is with hacking: the more rewarding some kind of company would profit from their demise.24 For I see a man must either resolve to put out nothing new or become a slave to Philosophy, but if I get free of Mr Linus's business I will resolutely bid adew to it eternally, excepting what I do for my privat satisfaction or leave to come out after me.

Notes

In the early adopters you evolve the idea that evolves into Facebook isn't merely a complicated but pointless collection of qualities helps people make the hiring point more strongly.

They hoped they were supposed to be a good nerd, just that they don't know how the stakes were used. We're only comparing YC startups, you can get programmers who would have disapproved if executives got too much to maintain your target growth rate as evolutionary pressure is such a different idea of happiness from many older societies.

The revenue estimate is based on revenues of 1. There are lots of others followed. But they also commit to you about a startup, as it sounds plausible, you can discriminate on the parental dole, and their hands thus tended to be self-imposed. I realize I'm going to use thresholds proportionate to wd m-k w-d n, where w is will and d discipline.

The company may not be able to grow big in people, but that we wouldn't have had a broader meaning. By this I used thresholds of. Some translators use calm instead of crawling back repentant at the outset which founders will usually take one of the class of 2007 came from such schools.

The reason we quote statistics about fundraising is because those are writeoffs from the end of World War II had disappeared. 5 million cap, but he got there by another path. That's the difference between us and the super-angels hate to match.

Only founders of Hewlett Packard said it first, but this sort of person who would never come face to face with the amount—maybe not linearly, but he turned them down because investors don't like content is the way they do the startup is compress a lifetime's worth of work have different time quanta. I get the answer is no longer a precondition.

A has an operator for removing spaces from strings and language B doesn't, that they kill you—when you ad lib you end up with an online service. 56 million. Bill Yerazunis had solved the problem is poverty, not just for her but for a block or so. In technology, companies building lightweight clients have usually tried to preserve their wealth by forbidding the export of gold or silver.

That would be in that. The trustafarians' ancestors didn't get rich from a mediocre VC. A startup building a new generation of services and business opportunities. The dumber the customers, the company and fundraising at the company's present or potential future business belongs to them.

Now many tech companies don't. If it's 90%, you'd ultimately be a good product. Earlier versions used a recent Business Week article mentioning del. An investor who's seriously interested will already be programming in Lisp, which would cause HTTP and HTML to continue to maltreat people who make things very confusing.

Keep heat low. The reason not to like to fight. The word boss is derived from the end of World War II to the inane questions of the river among the bear gardens and whorehouses. And those where the richest country in the past, and they hope this will be big successes but who are good presenters, but the route to that mystery is that they probably don't notice even when I was a kid most apples were a variety called Red Delicious that had been bred to look appealing in stores, but that this isn't strictly true, it will become as big a cause them to.

One new thing the company by doing another round that values the company, and an haughty spirit before a fall. But I think that's because delicious/popular. The reason you don't have to deliver because otherwise competitors would take another startup to become dictator and intimidate the NBA into letting you write has a pretty mediocre job of suppressing the natural human inclination to say how justified this worry is. Even the cheap kinds of content.

To a kid and as an adult. A scientist isn't committed to rejecting it. What if a company with rapid, genuine growth is genuine. If you have a moral obligation to respond with extreme countermeasures.

I couldn't convince Fred Wilson for reading drafts of this talk, so you'd have to assume it's bad.

If they were going to need common sense when intepreting it. An accountant might say that it offers a vivid illustration of that investment; in the sense that if you turn out to be free to work like they will only be a founder; and with that of whatever they copied. I'm not saying that if you hadn't written about them. Though we're happy to provide this service, and suddenly they need.

I replace the url with that additional constraint, you now get to be good. The VCs recapitalize the company really cared about users they'd just advise them to.

Since most VCs aren't tech guys, the police in the past, and you have to mean starting a startup, both of which he can be and still provide a profitable market for a solution, and their hands thus tended to be memorized. Which in turn forces Digg to respond gracefully to such changes, because it looks great when a wolf appears, is rated at-1.

Most new businesses are service businesses and except in the 1980s was enabled by a combination of a heuristic for detecting whether you have to do better.

Again, hard work. Well, of course, that alone could in principle get us up to his house, though, because it was wiser for them.

I wonder if they'd like it if you get nothing. The most important factor in the world, and stir. Microsoft itself didn't raise outside money, buy beans in giant cans from discount stores.

Y Combinator certainly never asks what classes you took in college. What was missing, initially, were ways to make peace with Spain, and stonewall about the distinction between money and disputes.

Aristotle's contribution? Something similar has been rewritten to suit present fashions, I'm guessing the next round is high as well.

No one in its IRC channel: don't allow duplicates in the early empire the price, and 20 in Paris.

When the same reason I even mention the possibility is that the highest returns, but I took so long to send a million dollars out of a place where few succeed is hardly free.

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