#i love heist stories is what im saying

[futurecorps3]

Hiii, could you write a nikokai fic where reader is like in love with kaz but he doesn't really pay attention to her. And then the crows meet sturmhond because of a heist and he takes interest in the reader form the first moment he sae her and makes her fall in love with him. And then whatever you want lol. Maybe kaz being jealous idk.

Sorry for any grammatical mistake, english it's not my first language.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞

Masterlist<3

Summary: After years of being in love with the one and only Kaz Brekker, breaking her own heart, Y/N meets someone else... Pairing: Sturmhond x fem!inferni!reader, Kaz Brekker x fem!reader

Warnings: The usual crow violence, DRINKING, jealous Kaz, mean Kaz, "unrequited" love for a little while, Matthias is alive and well like in the books duh but this is ofc before Nikolai becomes king, idc I just want my Fjerdan hunk happy in Ketterdam, curse words, kind of a messy timeline. HURT AND NO COMFORT. Lmk if I missed any.

Word Count: 2.9K!! Requested: Yes

A/N: IM SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG! :( I've been looking forward to getting to this specific request because oh my god, also, I changed it up a little; making Kaz actually be in love with reader but never really trying anything. Tysm for requesting love! Hope you enjoy :)

˚ · • . °

Exhaustion. That's what she felt, and to be honest, it was even more frustrating when Y/N knew she was doing it to herself. Those persistent yet futile attempts at reading Kaz's silence or gaze as something else; a love message, a confession of his sins, any sign of vulnerability reserved for her. However, these attempts, though fervent, ultimately proved fruitless.

How could she confirm what she thought she saw if, after, say, he appeared distressed at her being in danger or fumed when some dick was being extra disgusting at the bar that night; he went back to being his usual cold self?

When she finally obtained concrete evidence that disproved her misconceptions ("Jesper, she prefers black coffee" or "Y/N, could you join me in my office for a moment?" simply to spend time together in quietude), he strategically distanced himself throughout the week, transforming those precious moments of tranquility and companionship into ordinary occurrences, leading her to, somehow, misunderstand them.

Another shot of vodka and the pain her thoughts evoked was replaced by the burning, bitter sensation in her tongue and throat. "A hangover won't make Kaz let you stay behind tomorrow, you know that?" Matthias smiled next to her.

Since he joined the crows, the Fjerdan had taken a special liking to his girlfriend's best friend; she was funny, kind hearted and could keep up his pace in drinking games. Nina couldn't be happier to see her loves get along so well, saying it's her dream come true. "Oh don't even start, Matthias" Y/N answered, feigning annoyance as she poured more of the burning liquid into her glass and pulled out another for her friend.

They silently toasted to nothing in particular and chatted about their books as they usually did. Matthias' romance novel had an interesting love triangle Y/N was eager to read when he was finished. From how he talked about it, the girl knew it was just her type of story. They were in the middle of a playful argument about a plot-hole Y/N thought she found when Kaz approached them.

His usual demeanor seemed a bit... shaken. If you asked the blonde, he'd say he only looked more agitated, but Y/N/N knew better; his hair was covering his forehead slightly, but he wasn't brushing it back. The limp was prominent still, yet he wasn't using his cane. Kaz was in a rush to get to her, maybe?.

"One of your fellow countrymen is starting a turmoil outside, doesn't speak Kerch. Will you please, for the tree's sake, go and talk some sense into his thick blonde skull?" Saints, why did she like him so much? Even like that, Y/N thought he looked rather divine. Matthias stood up from his seat and directed himself to the entrance.

"Since when do you care for what happens outside that door?" She asked with a grin, genuinely curious. "I wouldn't if he wasn't scaring off the pigeons. No wealthy tourist will endure the trouble that some drunk Fjerdan means just to get inside a place full of people that'll take his money" the boy explained, looking down at her.

Kaz's complexion, kissed by the soft glow of the candles, is pale yet flawless, as if untouched by the harshness of the world he inhabits. His sharp, well-defined features give him an air of enigmatic sophistication, further heightened by the way the light dances upon his cheekbones, emphasizing their elegant structure.

Y/N realizes she's staring. She looks away.

The bastard smirks. "Finding something intriguing, are we?" And oh, she wanted to stab him to see if that would wipe the stupid grin he carried. "Oh, please, Kaz. You give yourself too much credit. I was merely lost in thought, contemplating the mysteries of the world. Your face happened to be in the line of sight, that's all."

Quick, sarcastic answer, as if the seconds between her silence confirmed even further what he was saying. He scoffed, drinking the remains of alcohol on Matthias' glass and fixed his hair in the process. "Stop drinking, a hangover won't spare you from our meeting tomorrow".

˚ · • . °

She should've listened. The crashing waves outside only intensified the discomfort, while the salty breeze seemed to carry a tinge of regret. Even the beauty of the sea she was now too used to felt distant and inaccessible, overshadowed by the haze of her post-indulgence remorse.

Nina, taunting Matthias with a mature Ravkan song and Jesper shooting bottles in the warehouse, created an uneasy atmosphere for hungover Y/N. This unsettling environment made it difficult for her to focus on evaluating any potential deals they were to discuss with the privateer Kaz said they were meeting that day. Also, they had been waiting for over an fifteen minutes now! She was surprised Kaz was waiting still.

He checked his pocket watch subtly, sighing at the tardiness of their Ravkan guests. Then, he looked over at Y/N. Even with those deep baggy eyes and with her head on her hands in exasperation, she managed to awaken that odd feeling in his chest. He hated it. No, he despised it.

If he ever accepted that he was down hard for the girl, he could also get over the fact that she, too, liked him. Well, he wasn't dumb! There was no denying that Y/N's actions warmed his heart. He just knew loving was a dangerous thing to do, a weakness he couldn't afford after spending years building a reputation in Ketterdam.

Then came a loud bang on the heave wooden doors of the warehouse. "Fucking finally" Y/N sighed, going to open the door herself before anyone would, wanting nothing but to end this as soon as possible so she could go back home to sleep. She grabbed the handle and pulled, the bright light outside blinding her momentarily before seeing the privateer and his crew.

"Hello gorgeous! Here to see Mr. Brekker. I'm guessing you're one of his associates?" A sharp, slightly deep voice greeted. The girl shielded her eyes from the light and found captain smily offering his hand out. In Ketterdam, rumours ran as quick as blood on pavement; Sturmhond knew that. He needed no introduction. Every person involved in not so legal activities who didn't live under a rock had heard at least once about the dog of the sea.

She took it, shaking gently. "Y/N Y/L/N, but if you prefer nicknames, call me Haepha". Then she stepped aside, pretending not to notice the smirk on Sturmhond's face so his partners could come in. The rumors hadn't done justice to his captivating presence.

The charismatic privateer stood tall, his dark hair falling in unruly waves that added to his allure. His piercing blue eyes seemed to hold a world of secrets, and a mischievous smile played across his lips. Dressed in opulent garments that exuded confidence and flair, Sturmhond commanded attention with every step as his crew and he approached the rest of the crows.

"I'll stick to your name for now doll, too pretty not to use," And the bastard winked at Y/N, making a Shu girl who was walking behind him with the same confidence giggle. The worst thing about pretty men is they know they're pretty, and knew damn well how to get away with being cocky. She knew his type, so she brushed the wink off and walked towards her friends.

Kaz and Sturmhond shook hands. Everyone who was fast enough grabbed a seat in old boxes or even on the floor. Jesper offered Y/N his seat, knowing that the vodka she drank last night was no merciful rival, and stood behind her alongside his boyfriend. Inej lingered sitting in a window near them as Matthias and Nina remained standing, contrary to all the privateers' team.

Kaz started making introductions, all a mere formality, Y/N knew. "You've met Y/N, our inferni. Behind him are Jesper, sharp-shooter, and Wylan, our demo-man. The blonde wall-resembling man over there is Matthias, and Nina is a heartrender. Inej in the window, our Wraith" he pointed, everyone nodding or waving at the dark-haired man.

"A Wraith alright, didn't notice you were there sweetheart!" He pointed out and then introduced the twins; Tolya and Tamar. As well as Anya and Andrei, who were two members of his ship's company who wanted to come by and see who they were working with. When that was taken care of, plans were strategized by both leaders and positions were given to each member.

Y/N knew Kaz was characterized by having plans from A to Z for very elaborate heists, but even this one seemed out of his reach, almost too ambitious. But if Sturmhond's name lived up to the myth, nothing was quite impossible for him and Kaz's love for money could get him to plot even the tiniest detail.

Their objective this time was to steal some kind of jewel called "the moon's tears". It was a gem said to be worth four million kruge, to be bargained for even more; the crows' biggest heist yet. The vault it was in was widely known for its impenetrable security measures, including seemingly impenetrable barriers, intricate lock mechanisms, and a team of highly skilled guards.

Those two were absolutely insane! Even before one considered the noble who owned the vault and therefore the gem they were trying to steal, knew Kaz from the past. It was an extremely peculiar coincidence that a masquerade ball was taking place some distance away from the location of the vault, which represented the perfect opportunity for the work.

This would allow them to exploit the lack of security and sweep the gem away. Nina would ideally take care of the distraction, to keep the nobleman from returning home too quick, but her heartrending abilities would be helpful to make a quick work to make the few officers guarding the vault doze off.

So it became Y/N's job. A job she was to complete with Sturmhond.

After the meeting ended and Y/N's headache had worsened, a deep voice was heard from behind her. She turned to find the charming privateer flashing a smile at her. "Looking forward to working with you, darling" He commented, offering his hand out and all. She took it and shook half-heartedly, eager to just go home and sleep for the rest of the evening.

"Me too, handsome" Irony laced in her tone. "Doesn't seem like it, you alright? You look like a ghost. Lovely, yes, but still ghostly" The comment made her smile, tightening the grasp on his hand but not shaking anymore "Just hungover s'all" "Told you so!" Jesper proclaimed from their side as everyone directed themselves to the door.

The privateer smiled sweetly. "Got any plans this evening?" "Other than rotting in my room until my body stops hurting? Not really. Why?" Y/N looked down briefly, realizing she still hadn't let go of his hand and then released her grasp "Well, if my days at sea have thought me anything other than how to read the stars..." he started, tapping the necklace with a star charm the girl sported.

A "gift" from Kaz (some jewelry that wasn't redeemed from a heist he let her keep). "...is how to cure a hangover. Mind coming with me to a bar? You can decide which". Going to a bar with a complete stranger who had a reputation of being in trouble most of the time and who she were to work with? Sure thing.

"Promise youll make it go away?" "Promise".

˚ · • . °

And what a plot twist he was. Jesper had jokingly said to the girl that she shouldn't take a privateer's word but he did termiante her hangover with some strange, black-ish liquid she didn't dare to ask the composition of. Then they drank more.

As the drinks arrived, they raised their glasses, the clink of crystal breaking the spell of their silent connection. Sturmhond smiled, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "To new adventures and unexpected encounters," he proposed, his voice smooth and velvety.

Y/N couldn't help but return the smile, feeling the warmth of excitement spread through her veins. "To embracing the unknown," she replied, raising her glass in agreement. They took a sip, the flavors dancing on their tongues. A comfortable silence settled between them, allowing the sounds of the bar to envelop them. After a moment, Sturmhond leaned in, his voice low and captivating.

"So, Y/N, what brings you to this lawless corner of the world?". He asked, genuine curiosity lacing his words. Y/N's eyes sparkled as she recounted her journey, the challenges she faced, and the dreams that fueled her determination. Sturmhond listened intently, his attention unwavering, as if she held the secrets of a hidden treasure.

As she spoke, Y/N couldn't help but notice the genuine interest in Sturmhond's eyes. He asked thoughtful questions and shared stories of his own adventures, effortlessly weaving tales of daring escapades that left Y/N hanging on his every word.

The conversation flowed effortlessly, a seamless exchange of ideas, dreams, and aspirations. Time seemed to melt away as they delved into deeper discussions, finding solace in the connection they were building. Laughter intertwined with their words, a symphony of shared amusement and understanding.

They became lost in each other's company, entranced by the way their thoughts aligned and their hearts danced to the same rhythm. And as the night wore on, their conversation continued, their new found connection growing stronger with every passing moment.

She couldn't help but think of Kaz, when exiting the bar, and on the way back to The Slat. When would he ever, in a million years, make her feel so seen? How could he? He seemed to be nothing but cold and a bad type of confusing to the girl.

Y/N was not blind, either. Sturmhond was known for his endless romantic encounters with women across the sea, and he was interested in her. Now, she could not deny the guy was a charming boy too pretty for this Earth, sharp as a knife and, as she found out that evening, shared a lot of ideals and interests with her.

Could he maybe work as a rebound? Maybe. Would she shamelessly use him as that? Could be. Having his eyes on her that whole meeting was no coincidence, and she liked his attention. Maybe what mends a broken heart was a handsome privateer.

They agreed to meet up the next day, his treat.

˚ · • . °

Back at the Slat, Kaz was fuming. No, not fuming; seething. A bar outing? She just met him! He could not believe his eyes when they were talking hand in hand like they had known each other from a previous lifetime.

In the little time that had passed since (most of) the crows had returned from the meeting, Kaz had already gotten four drunks kicked out, death-stared a group of dregs twice so they'd shorten their break time to get them to work and downed four vodka shots.

Why was he this mad? She wasn't even his and as far as she knew; he had no intentions of being hers either. The boy couldn't be mad at her, but he was, and Kaz knew very well he was being a big selfish shit. He could not blame Y/N either; the bastard she had been crushing on gives no signs of interest but a privateer handsome as the devil shows up with his attention completely focused on her? Of course she'd fall.

He just hated that feeling.

It's presence looms, heavy and suffocating, wrapping its tendrils around the heart, constricting with an iron grip. It whispers sweet poison into the mind, distorting reality and fueling irrational fears. Like a tempestuous storm, it rages within, lightning crackling with envy, thunder rumbling with resentment. It paints the world in hues of green, tarnishing every joyous moment with a bitter aftertaste.

And then his heart sunk into the depths of his dark soul when he saw them walk in hand in hand. That was the first time Y/N had walked into a room and not looked for him, he noticed. She was laughing at something Sturmhond had said as they walked up the stairs until they reached the door of Y/N's room. He kissed her hand and she kissed his cheek.

The privateer then walked down the stairs, noticing Kaz staring.

"She's one of a kind, that one... Might stay a bit more after the job's done. See you tomorrow, Brekker"

The feeling was now leaving an empty, bottomless void in his soul. He bottomed his shot glass then poured another one.

˚ · • . °

Time kept ticking and the void intensified, but Kaz learnt how to deal with it.

He learnt how to deal with it when he kissed her after the job was done.

He learnt how to deal with it when Y/N took a break from the crows to leave with him for six months.

He learnt how to deal with it when she returned from her trip, beautiful tan skin and a diamond on her finger.

He learnt how to deal with it when he saw her crying herself to sleep because she missed him.

He learnt how to deal with it when she left for good.

He learnt how to deal with it when she was named queen of Ravka.

Kaz just learnt how to live with the shame and regret of not recognizing that the one thing he needed was right in front of him, hoping she'd have a place next to him.

˚ · • . ° .

Hi! Thank you so much for reading, hope you enjoyed:) I'm actually sorry for this one...

Remember, the best way to support writer’s works on here is by REBLOGGING WITH TAGS. I’d very much appreciate it if you did!

Thanks again, stranger. Hope you have a nice day<3

NO ONE IS ALLOWED TO REPOST AS THEIR OWN/TRANSLATE/OR COPY MY WORK IN ANY PLATFORM OR SPACE WITHOUT MY EXPLICIT CONSENT.

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[ashessonfire]

Hi, I just gotta say I really love your stories and how detailed and eloquent your writing is.How about a Kaz Brekker x reader angst where a heist gone wrong results to Kaz (temporarily) losing his memory and reverting back to old Kaz, who is not in a relationship with reader, and he keeps pushing the reader away 'til reader gives up 'cause of something Kaz said or a scenario where they think Kaz is better without them♡♡♡thank you for listening HAHAHAHA

'Forgotten' - Kaz Brekker x Reader

Prompt - Kaz Brekker's plans rarely fail, but what happens when a heist goes incredibly wrong, and the Bastard of the Barrel forgets you completely? - Pairing: Kaz Brekker x Reader (established relationship) - Warnings: Depictions of violence, gunshots, Kaz's trauma / memories, Kaz being an asshole but not really his fault??? ANGST ANGST ANGST Part two found here! A/N: Thank you all so much for the amount of support and love i am getting for my first few posts! I will definitely write a part two if you want it, its a massive cliffhanger but would be WAY too long to do it in one go. JUST PURE ANGST IM SORRY T-T

════ ∘◦ᵒ 𓅓 ᵒ◦∘ ════

Kaz’s plans often fell victim to unseen circumstances, however, small hinderances to his meticulously planned out schemes rarely affected the outcome. Yet even Kaz himself had to admit, that this plan had gone spectacularly wrong.

From incorrect blueprints for the building, to four times the number of armed guards than initially expected, all the group could do was try and escape relatively unharmed. The crows were splintered into six breathless individuals, winding their way through narrow streets to try and loosen their attackers’ grips. Sprays of bullets and the glints of knives rushed past each one of them, only narrowly missing their targets.

That was until Kaz felt a searing pain in his leg, a sudden slash just under the back of his knee, sending fire trailing throughout his body. He groaned deeply, internally damning the attacker for not only striking his target, but also managing to hit Kaz on his already bad leg. The pain from the wound caused it to buckle, giving him a clear path straight towards the glistening cobblestone of Ketterdam’s streets.

Before he could fully feel the impact, a hand tightly gripped the roots of his hair, pulling his face parallel to the grinning pursuer, evidently pleased with his achievement of apprehending the Bastard of the Barrel.

Before Kaz could use his cane to fight back, it was violently ripped from his grasp, another set of hands clutching his own behind his back, rendering him completely immobile. Suddenly, the knife was yanked out of his leg, earning a surprised growl from Kaz, his leg leaking onto the stone beneath him a deep ruby shade.

“Well, that wasn’t so hard, was it? I’m afraid to say I am more than a little underwhelmed, Dirtyhands,” The leader of the group sneered, earning a howl of laughter from his gang, who seemed to be forming from the shadows of the abandoned street, emerging in staggering numbers.

Despite his predicament, a thought flashed through his mind, calming his increasingly alarmed state. “Perhaps they abandoned the others in favour of catching me,” Kaz silently contemplated, feeling a light sense of relief at the possibility his crew would make it back to the slat alive.

Especially you.

However, the relief was knocked out of him as swiftly as it came, along with all the air in his chest.  A brutal kick sent him reeling backwards into the chest of the man behind, followed by a series of punches which Kaz was defenceless against. The assault continued, blood pouring into his eyes from an open wound on his forehead, blinding him to the onslaught of attacks that followed, as he rapidly tried blinking to wash away the crimson from his vision.

The ambush subsided, giving him enough time to throw his head back and remove some of the steadily flowing substance from his sight. Murmurs sounded around him, but Kaz couldn’t decipher what was being stated, the ringing from the punches obscuring the sound around him, leaving him underwater, drowning in his own blood.

Despite Kaz’s senses becoming increasingly obstructed, a flare of panic welled up within him, as he spotted something brassy glinting through the sheet of red, catching the light from the street lanterns surrounding them. The unknown object began its descent towards him, the glint becoming a beam which shone through the curtain of crimson, until it was just close enough for Kaz to make out the flash of a crow’s eye, and the curve of a beak.

“How ironic,” Kaz thought to himself, “Being killed by my own cane.”

The scarlet curtain closed on Kaz, the blow ending the performance the gang was putting on, leaving their victim in a world full of darkness, the feeling of the waves washing over him and pulling him deeper into the abyss.

The last thing he heard was the sound of a voice.

 Jordie’s?

The concern that radiated from the sound brought him back to memories of the farm, where Kaz would climb too far up a willow’s branches, and his brother would have to call him down. Or perhaps when they had arrived in Ketterdam and Kaz had thought it comedic to hide in a dimly lit street, blissfully unaware of the dangers that lurked in its gloom.

However, as Kaz slipped deeper into the ocean, the voice getting further away with each of his slowing heartbeats, a tinge of warmth hit his chest, signalling that this wasn’t Jordie.

 It was you.

════ ∘◦ᵒ 𓅓 ᵒ◦∘ ════

Your adrenaline had served you well, since shortly after you were separated from the crows, familiar edges of buildings and glints of neighboring signs entered your vision. Using this to your advantage, you utilized your familiarity of the area to hide, slipping into the shadows, melting into the gloom of Ketterdam's alleys. Soon, all five of your pursuers had bullets lodged in their throats unable to pinpoint where they were being shot from. Each fatal blow perfectly central just as Jesper had taught you.

Whilst your mind began to settle at the lack of immediate threat, something burred within your core pulled on your heartstrings, pointing your unsettling fear towards Kaz.

You had taken great care to note which routes the other crows had disappeared down, for insurance if they did not return to the slat within the agreed time. However, as you fled, your heart had plummeted at the sight of at least ten men chasing down your boyfriend.

Before your mind could register your actions, you were sprinting back in the direction you had come, weaving through the bodies littering your path. You quickly reached the alley Kaz had fled down, and you bolted through the streets you estimated Kaz would take.

As he was your boyfriend, you had become accustomed to imagining what he would do, or how he would act in certain situations, helping you decode his behaviour when he barricaded himself from you on troublesome days.

The sound of bone cracking and pained grunts pulled you away from your thoughts, turning a sharp corner just in time to see the head of Kaz’s precious cane colliding with his temple, the light visibly fading from his eyes due to the blow.

Rage swept through you, controlling your actions as your mind failed to synchronise with your body. Rushing forward, you shot wildly, achieving at least three separate screams from the men before you. Before the others were made fully aware of your presence, you had a serrated knife plunging into a further two, leaving fatal wounds which would slowly bring about their demise. Once every one of group were flooding the streets with their blood, your gaze shifted to Kaz.

Lying in a growing pool of blood, your boyfriend’s face was swollen, covered in deep gashes that littered his sharp features. The dim light from the lanterns overhead cast murky shadows over the wounds, highlighting the gruesome fate Kaz had endured. From somewhere far in the distance, you heard your voice screaming his name, begging for him to wake up, at some point you had even rushed over to him and began caressing his fractured face to wake him.

Allowing a deep inhale of Ketterdam’s air, you collected yourself, imagining that Kaz were conscious and scolding you for your slow reactions and the ‘weakness’ you were portraying. Laying your head against his frigid chest, you held your own breath, only releasing the growing tension when a faint heartbeat pounded against your ear.

Silently apologising for your next actions, you hooked both of Kaz’s arms underneath your own and used all your force to haul him back to the Slat.

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For several days following the attack, the group had come to a collective conclusion that their boss was severely concussed, so much so that he was barely conscious for more than a few minutes at a time.

Throughout the harrowing days, you never left his side, constantly aiding his body in a frail attempt to bring him back to the conscious realm, and to you.

The crows stopped by often to assist you, compelled to keep at least one half of the pair in a decent condition, Nina bringing hot food, Inej wiping down your face with a warm cloth, and Jesper or Wylan keeping you company for an hour or so, brightening the mood wit =h jokes or stories.

Time seemed almost to cease its movements, with even the smallest of things, like the rain rolling down the frosted glass in Kaz’s room, or the flickering of the candles illuminating the slat, appearing sluggish to you.

That was, only until Kaz woke up.

A bout of coughs awoke you from a light sleep, sending alarm bells ringing through your head, echoing off the walls and overwhelming you. Upon seeing the straining eyes blinking against the intensity of the candlelight, the roar swiftly subsided.

“Kaz,” you breathed out, barely audible to both you and him.

You gently reached out to feel the heat from his forehead, an action not dissimilar to the gentle brushes of his locks you would often settle on when he was too engrossed in scheming to provide you attention. However, your movements were stopped dead in their tracks when a voice sliced through the air.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Kaz seethed.

Although his voice was hoarse from his absence over the last few days, a clear threat laid deeply within his sentence, piercing your chest with a thousand knives. “Kaz, I’m just checking your temperature, my love,” you offered gently, praying to the Saints that whatever malice behind your partners eyes was due to his condition, and not a genuine fury.

Instead of removing the knives from your heart, he twisted them painfully, glaring directly at you as he warned lowly, “I am not sure how long I have been out for, but I severely doubt it would be enough time for a word like ‘love’ to be directed towards me. Especially by the likes of you. Go and get Nina, you are of no use to me.”

Your breath hitched painfully in your throat, blocking the air trying to travel both in and out, glittering eyes locked directly with his as your mind struggled to process the disgust that laced his voice. Your body battled as it tried to force another ‘Kaz’ out into the world, but he intruded before the sound escaped.

“Leave now, or I will dismiss you for insubordination. Go,” Kaz stated, bitterness being the only discernible emotion portraying through his words, his chest filling with an emotion so strong he couldn’t name it, deciding to settle on disgust. Your eyes welled up, clouding your vision as you cautiously left the room, shock coursing through your body and stiffening your every movement, causing shivers to wrack your body as your blood froze to ice.

Your mind seemed to leave your body, taking little note of going to Nina and sending her up to Kaz, or the other crows fawning over your broken state, clearly panicking further when your only form of response was a stiff silence. It seemed safer to hide behind glossy eyes and blank looks, than to decipher what had caused Kaz’s reaction.

It was only an hour later when Nina came downstairs, shaking you out of your daze with words that did a far more agonizing job than Kaz’s knives would.

She downright shot you point blank in the heart.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry, it seems like the blow has affected his memory. I can’t tell the severity yet, but it seems that he has no recollection of you two as, well you know. ‘You two,’” Nina bit out, voice cracking as her heart shattered for you, who now stood shaking before the group, the slightest breeze threatening to barrel you over.

You dismissed them with a fractured smile, barring yourself within the confines of your room, knives drawing blood within your heart, twisting excruciatingly each time a shuffle or a creak would sound from the room above yours.

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Your perseverance impressed not only the rest of the crows, but yourself too. You didn’t allow yourself to wallow in your self-pity for long, determined to regain Kaz’s memory despite his protests and frustration with you. You had already molded a loving relationship with the deadliest man in Ketterdam, you figured that you would be able to withstand doing it once more.

Enduring the blade-like words was the simplest part, however it was the emotion behind them that faltered you each time you were faced with him. He always his behind a face of insults or harsh syllables, but you had decoded their meanings long ago, the sentiment behind each radiating through in a way in which only you could detect.

As he recovered, you remained vigilant to his every need, bringing him herbal tea infused with medicine or offering fresh bandages to change when the blood seeped through the last.

Each encounter ended with tears streaming drearily down your face, matching the raindrops that hit against the pains of the slat, each impact slamming against your heart. As you persisted, the feeling Kaz felt towards you grew, the emotion intensifying with each glimpse at you.

He couldn't stand it.

Rage bubbled within him at your attempts at kindness, the insults increasing in harshness and malice each time you dared to provoke him.

Yet you bounced back, offering him delicate smiles, compassionate gestures, and kind words. However Kaz couldn't bear it any longer, the weight in his chest obscuring his breathing and brooding for too long, consuming him from the inside out.

Despite his unbroken hatred that radiated towards you, he seemed to gradually be regaining his memories, allowing Jesper's jokes or Nina's teasing to go as far as they would before the accident. It caused you great anguish, and shamefully jealousy, at his return to every one of his crows.

But you.

The door to his office was given a light few taps, before Kaz permitted you entry, knowing from the weight of the knocks it had to be you. Although the others seemed far more wary of him than usual, there was something almost gentle about how you acted towards him, making it easier for Kaz to single you out from the rest.

You entered with a stack of papers, a vast collection of work that had accumulated whilst he regained his health. Biting back his usual snarky insults and remarks dripping in poison, Kaz watched you intently, deadly intentions practically radiating from his gaze.

Setting down the pile, you stepped back silently, too exhausted to bear the weight of another one of his lashings, each word cutting you and leaving you bleed out, not dissimilarly to how you found him that night.

The silence in his office was impenetrable, the air becoming impossible to breath through the tension that radiated between you, with only one of you being able to decipher what it truly was. Your mind was so focused on the intake of air, you almost missed the hand that extended towards you, the closest he had allowed you since his memory had stolen you from him.

Clutched in his grasp was a simple white letter, signatures coating the outside of the envelope, and something folded, protruding from within the packet itself.

The silence became deafening, the pounding of your heart like a bird trapped in a cage infinitely too small for its prisoner, crashing into the walls in an attempt to escape. As your hand made contact with the offering, Kaz spoke in a tone you had never heard before.

He simply stated, "From tomorrow, at four bells, you will be gone. A job in Ravka requires someone of your skillset, so you will go. If you fail to comply then you will no longer be welcomed here. I have tolerated your incessant troubling for long enough, you have no true place here until you finally realize how burdensome you truly are."

Your heart stopped.

The air around you liquified, slowly filling your lungs with fluid and choking you, drowning you silently as Kaz looked on with an indifferent scowl, an eyebrow raised in question at your astonishment.

The tears streamed, your body screaming for air, for comfort, for him. But it couldn't seem to attain any one of them, instead pushing all its strength into forming the the right words to pierce Kaz Brekker's impenetrable façade.

"You still don't remember?" you coughed out, "After the incident who was it who rushed back to you, dragged your half-dead body across the Barrel and into the slat. Who stayed by your side until they were forced to leave each night? Do you not have any recollection, not of the memories, but of how you felt for me? Surely I didn't mean that little to you," your voice wavered heavily whilst you gasped out the final line.

The tears formed rugged streams across your cheeks, glinting in the dim candlelight from Kaz's desk, highlighting the pain you had hidden from him for weeks. It was now his turn to be stunned, the words echoing around his mind but not seeming to form into coherent meanings.

Despite Kaz's astonishment at your outburst, it wasn't enough.

Wasn't enough for him to stop you from walking away, or enough to whisper your name louder in confusion and uncertainty as your form dissolved into the hallway .

Surely this was what he was supposed to do?

Yet deep inside his plagued heart your words resounded, filling Kaz with a sense of dread, the waves that usually consumed him began to swell, drowning him in his seat just as he had done to you earlier.

He was certain on one thing, that the gaping pain in his chest which he had presumed was disgust, or perhaps even hatred, had not disappeared. Had not lightened as he had prayed it would if you just vanished.

No. Instead it had intensified into something that swallowed him whole, dragging him further into the bitter ocean than ever before, waves crashing fiercely above his head.

The emotion consumed him as his breathing deepened, heart both simultaneously stopping and racing into oblivion, as it finally dawned on him. Somewhere within that feeling a small spark remained glowing, something that felt warm and familiar which he had repressed.

Something that resembled care, or affection, or...

Love.

════ ∘◦ᵒ 𓅓 ᵒ◦∘ ════

Tag list: @animalistic00 @whos6claire

Click here for part two <3

#kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker x y/n #kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker x reader imagines #shadow and bone season 2 #shadow and bone x reader #six of crows x reader #six of crows imagine #six of crows #grishaverse #shadow and bone imagine #kaz brekker x reader fluff #ashessonfire

[thewonandonly]

RETURN TO ME

PLAYLIST : spotify

PAIRING : thief!kang yeosang x news reporter!fem!reader

GENRE : thriller? fluff, smut, angst

WC : 14,374 words :3

WARNINGS : strong language, agro-hwa, aggression, graphic description of hostage situations/kidnapping, mention of bank heists/artifact theft, mention of firearms, absolute chaos from ateez as a heist group, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal penitration, vouyerism/exhabitionism, praise, pet names, cunnilingus, no happy ending, its giving mama im in love with a criminal tbh

AUTHOR'S NOTE : it's finally done! i've been writing this fic for OVER a year, ever since guerilla came out 😰 i hope you all enjoy and jsyk, this fic is heavily, heavily, inspired by "love letter from thief x".  

Becoming a news reporter wasn't your first option. You originally wanted to write news articles for your local paper, something close to home, but it turned out that your local paper hired another much more qualified person. So, you used your degree in journalism for field reporting. 

Your first story was about a cold case being reopened, and you would've loved to do your own research on the topic, however, the teleprompter read everything for you, telling you what to say, what to do and how to do what they tell you to do. You seriously did not have any freedom. You were about ready to go on sabbatical and open a gossip blog like Perez Hilton. Then, maybe you'll finally be able to get the freedom you'd like to report how you'd like. Or, maybe you'd even put the degree you got for investigative journalism, something you think would be extremely enjoyable to you and your wallet.

But, you didn't start hating your job at the beginning. No, because it was helpful to have a teleprompter in front of you, telling you what to say while the ring light blinded you. No, it wasn't because of that. It was because you were currently trapped in a hostage situation, the news broadcast now hijacked by the criminals in this entire scheme. 

It was a classic museum robbery, and you wouldn't say you were excited to cover it, but it was different from what stories you would normally cover. It had the potential danger in it all.

But the second your cameraman and producer cut the cameras to take a break, you were left alone to your own devices until you were going to be called in again by your co-workers in the studio. 

You pulled out your phone, scrolling through social media timelines, reading the other news sources that popped up about the situation. 

The microphone you held, that did little to nothing when you spoke into it on camera, was suddenly dropped as you were pulled from where you were standing, a hand over your mouth and another arm around your waist, lugging you away like a piece of cargo. 

How was no one noticing this, you questioned. The cameras were rolling for different news broadcasts, and yet no one gave any mind to the sound of your heels scraping against the gravel road, leaving white marks from the top piece on the bottom of your heel. 

You practically screamed from behind the hand against your mouth, but the sound of all the chaos from newscasters, sirens that echoed against the buildings silenced your screams.

All the self-defense you've learned for this moment, that you pleaded never happened, seemed to disappear from your head. And you were nearly incapacitated, anyhow. The last you saw of the outside was where your team sat, and the microphone discarded on the ground, your phone right next to it with a shattered screen.

The captor pulled you around the back of the building, another holding the door open for them.

They all wore masks, some you've seen at Halloween stores. Some of them you haven't seen available anywhere. You could only assume that this has been planned years before it happened. 

Shutting the door at the back of the building, the man released you before another took over and tied your arms behind your back, and sat you down to bind your legs.

"I'm sorry." The person tying you whispered, "For what it's worth."

"It isn't worth jack shit." You grumbled, moving around in the restraints, trying to get him to mess up even a little bit. 

The other cleared his throat, "Come in, Base, it's me." He mumbled through the mask. 

You immediately assumed that this was a much more complex plan, looking as he communicated to "Base".

"You read me?" He paused, "Newscaster is secured. Video's free to run."

"Y/N, uh... Come in." Your coworker spoke through the in-ear you had, and you nearly shook. There was no way you could respond unless you were left by yourself. "Y/N, come in." Their voice got a bit more stern, a bit more deeper.

There was a loud ringing playing over the in-ear and you jumped.

A voice full of static echoed, sounding distant but close at the same exact time, "This is an official notice. We, the group known by Kyomi, require the government release the Dream Texts to us, immediately." The video that played was a deep, almost god-like voice, similar to the voice configuration that Anonymous had used many, many times in the past, "The National Treasure Museum does not have rights to own the Dream Texts, nor does the government. They are to return them to their rightful owners. You have 24 hours."

Ringing played in your ear and you began to rub the in-ear across your shoulder trying to get it out from your ear, before it fell against the floor, the ringing echoing across the walls.

"Son of a..." The one tying you up glanced at the in-ear, looking at you before kicking it away, "What do you think you're doing?"

You struggled in the restrains, the rope digging into your skin.

"Wasp, we got a breach." He called to the other across from him, swinging the bolt rifle back to his hands, "She had an in-ear. They heard us."

The other turned to you, glaring at you through the mask, which made it 20 times more horrific, "Well, what are you waiting for? Break it." The one called Wasp spoke, squatting beside you, "Killer," He called over his own in-ear, "Shut it down." 

You glared back at him, not at all deferred from your fear coursing through your veins. 

There were so many other people that you weren't aware were in the next room, dealing with 4 others. Museum staff and guests visiting the 24/7 museum alike, all being threatened in front of the barrel of a gun. 

And as soon as "Wasp" called to shut it down, it was all over in a second. 

"Meet at the van. 10 minutes tops. Grab your shit, we're leaving." 

Your brain immediately connected the dots that maybe this "Wasp" was the leader of the others, and you didn't think even a little bit that you would be going along with them until the one who tied you up in the rope swooped you over his shoulder, your legs kicking at his back.

"What about the newscaster, Wasp?"

"Bring her along, Hornet. Base is gonna need all the info we can get." He nodded to the entryway, and opened the door to the reception desk. "Sharp, let's go. We're out of time."

"Sharp" immediately stood up from his crouching position with his gun still aimed at any who threatened through the glass windows, "You go ahead. Killer and Spiral are in the next room with the hostages."

"Copy." Hornet responded, carrying you through the door, "Killer, Spiral, get anything gathered about the Dream Texts and head out."

The two across the room gathered backpacks and threw them over their shoulders, their rifles resting in their hands.

The other hostages huddled together, shaking in fear. And in contrast, you rested on Hornet's shoulder, watching them from the corner of your eye. 

Wasp and Sharp entered through the door, a whistle escaping Wasp's lips, "Let's load up, Web is waiting for us." He lead the group to the van, "Hornet, drop the newscaster inside. You know the drill. Sharp, check for trackers. Spiral, swap out the plates." 

Hornet nodded his head to the door as Killer opened it, plopping you inside, "Alright, miss, no need to worry."

You trembled like a leaf. You never, ever thought this would happen to you. You, who took kickboxing as an extracurricular in high school and actually passed the class as top student. You, who checked every glass window you passed by in your hometown. You, who was so kind but also knew how to set your boundaries. This couldn't be happening to you. There was no way. The one second you were distracted by your cellphone and it wasn't while you were working; much rather it was while you were on break. 

The rope binding your arms behind your back was suddenly met with another rope through that one, and you had to convince yourself that this wasn't some messed up shibari sex cult. Inappropriate thoughts aside, Hornet tied a blindfold around your eyes, covering any light that might've flooded in from the dingy alleyway that the Kyomi group stood in, watching as Hornet finished restraining you and depriving you of your senses.

There was a faint beeping that echoed in and out your ear. "Can's clear, Wasp." Sharp called. 

"Good. Let's head out." He climbed into the van, hitting the door to the others, "Up and at 'em, boys."

"Jesus Christ, this mask is fucking annoying." A voice called and you heard the horrendous sound of latex rubbing against one another.

Another shouted, "Dude, you're all good to take the mask off!"

"I already did, asshole!"

You wiggled around, trying to grab even the slightest bit of attention, but they all seemed too busy talking to one another to notice you using your shoulder to move the bandana up just a little to see out of the bottom.

A voice sighed, "Come on, you two. Relax. We're not out of the woods just yet."

The other voice laughed, almost high pitched, "He's just so fucking ugly. I can't help it."

There was the brief sound of pushing and shoving, before a deep and stern, "Hey!" echoed through the car, "If Web gets into a crash and we get caught because of you two, it's over."

A tongue clicked, "Yeah, listen to Wasp. He can't afford to go back to jail, guys."

"You're one to talk, Yunho!"

"All of you just shut the fuck up." The voice boomed, and you almost flinched back into the car, feeling like you yourself was the one getting scolded, even though you were the most quiet out of the others, aside from Web.

You took this moment to actually lean your head back, and angle your eyes downward, catching the briefest glance among the group.

Three sat across from you, their masks still covering their face as they leaned against the empty van, guns resting at their side. The other two sat with their backs against the driver and passenger seats, next to the other group. Aside from the one directly in front of you, you were by yourself.

One of them cleared their throat, breaking the silence, "So, what's with the newscaster? Why'd we take her?"

"Information." That was the voice. The voice you could recognize as Wasp.

The other sighed, "Where are we gonna keep her?"

"Base can take care of her." It was short, simple, but definitely not sweet. He was the leader, he was the one that told the other's where to go.

The brief sounds of sirens were what pulled your attention from leaning your head back. And the sound only made you more agitated. I'm in here, you wanted to call. And how you pleaded you have superhuman strength to break out from your ties, break the door and crawl into the street.

The car ride was long. Extremely long and painful. You could feel your bottom going numb, and the rope digging into your arms. You were sure that you had a rope burn from it. The blindfold getting all the more irritating.  But, they didn't seem to notice that the bandana was even lifted a little bit, or how you would glance at them from underneath it. They were comfortable with each other, all joking around, almost as if they didn't hold an entire museum heist just a few hours ago. Their masks were off, the weapons and items they were able to grab from the museum in the middle of the van.

Wasp slumped forward, his arms folded across his stomach as he slept. 

And when the van stopped, you nearly shook. The rain pattered on the concrete.

"We're here." Web, the one driving called, putting the car in park.

The others sighed, standing up and stretching, climbing out the van, "Shit," one of them yawned. 

"Come on, Wasp. Let's get you inside." One of them shook him by his shoulders.

Wasp looked up and took a single glance outside and was already on his feet, "Alright, grab the things. Web has to get this back to the rental company. Base already changed the plates and VIN for it."

"Copy that." They all began to pick up an item; at least one gun as well, and opened the back door to the van. 

Wasp began to untie the rope through the one rubbing into your arms and lifted you over his shoulder. He kept a strong arm over your waist and walked around to the driver side. "Web, pass me the dash cam card." 

Web immediately reached toward the device and pulled out the card, "Got the replacement one?"

Wasp rummaged in his pocket, "Here. Base got still footage while we were setting up." Passing the card to Web, he nodded to him, "Get back safe."

"I always do." He shrugged before driving off.

Wasp sighed, looking up at the sky as the rain fell into his face, "God, I hate rain."

You wanted to make a stupid pun about wasps and their aggression, but your throat was so dry, you believed even speaking a little bit would cause your trachea to crack.

The mud gushed around his feet as he walked and opened the door to what you assumed was their base. 

"Welcome back, Seonghwa." A soft voice mumbled, "Who's this you have with you?"

"Newscaster." He dropped you down onto a couch and pulled the blindfold from your eyes.

It took a moment before your eyes could adjust to the dim lighting, and you felt 8 different pairs of eyes on you. The ones you saw in the museum had their masks either in their hand or on top of their heads. It was hard to believe that these people were so ready to show their faces to you.

And the two you haven't had the pleasure — you use that loosely — to meet yet, sat across from you, large computer monitors on top of two separate desks that looked just a little too large for the room, watching your every move.

Your breath began to quicken, your lungs beginning to constrict on every other breath. It didn't begin to hit you that you were obviously very much kidnapped, until you began to look around for any hint that maybe this was all big nightmare. 

Wasp, or now known as Seonghwa, bent at the waist and looked into your eyes, "Tell us what you know."

You've seen movies like this; the main character ends up kidnapped for knowing too much and when asked for the information they know, they always respond with the stupid words of "where am i?"

But honestly, you didn't really care where you were, you just wanted to get home. You wanted to lay in your bed and cuddle up in your covers. 

"Just about as much as everyone." You mumbled, shrinking under Seonghwa's stone cold glare, "I know that you want the Dream Texts, and I know that your groups name is Kyomi, and that there's 8 of you, only 6 of you going out on missions." You looked up at the man in front of you, shifting uncomfortably, "And I know that you don't kill."

The blonde male in the chair nodded, "She's good." He chuckled, pointing at you, "You actually know a lot more than others."

"I spend a lot of time reading about you guys." You mumbled. 

Seonghwa clicked his tongue, "All that information is on the internet?" He turned to the others, "Yeosang, do something about this."

The blonde male in the chair spun around and began to type quickly on the keyboard. 

You could only watch and listen, feeling uncomfortable as another member sat beside you and placed his arm around the top of the couch.

"Yeosang's our eyes." The other member whispered, "And the other one is Mingi, he does all background work for us."

Mingi waved sweetly, in contrast with the dim lighting of the room.

"Okay..." Yeosang mumbled, "Well, there are other news sources giving background to the group but it doesn't look like they know anything about us, personally." He rubbed his bottom lip, "There's not much to do aside from let the tabloids run their crazy little course and let them speculate."

Seonghwa clicked his tongue, "Son of a bitch," He pushed his hair back and sighed, "Yeosang, keep an eye on those articles and make sure that anything slightly close to our personal lives gets taken down."

"Aye, aye, sir." Yeosang nodded. 

You briefly made eye contact with Yeosang, before looking down at your lap, "Do you think I'll be able to go home soon?"

Seonghwa looked at you like you were crazy, "You think you'll be able to go home now? You've seen our faces, you know how we sound." 

The realization hit you all too late. There was no way you were going to be able to go home after everything you've been through. Like Seonghwa said, you've seen their faces. You've heard their voices. They had no collateral to the fact that you wouldn't say a word. And they definitely weren't going to risk some feisty newscaster giving away what they were doing anytime soon.

"You're right." You chuckled softly, "God, I'm such an idiot." You weren't generally speaking about your current situation, more rather this whole evening. You were distracted, you were caught unawares. And now, you were trapped in a situation that you didn't ask to be in. 

"Wooyoung, San, get her something more comfortable than those ropes." Yeosang called, and the member that sat next to you and the other across the room stood up and wandered off to the back of the shack... house, whatever it was.

Seonghwa looked around, "What are we gonna do with her?"

Yeosang shrugged, his demeanor almost changing in that instant, "I'm not the one who brought her here." 

You furrowed your brows, "You guys don't even know what to do with me and still brought me here?"

A brown haired member with a gentle smile and soft eyes chuckled, "Seonghwa didn't think it all the way through."

"Shut up, Yunho!" The latter scolded, "So, who's gonna give up their bed?"

"Definitely not me." A shorter male shook his head, "My back's still messed up from that heist in the city."

"That's always your excuse, Hongjoong." Yunho rolled his eyes, "I can't give up my bed because I made the perfect ass dent to fit me."

"That leaves Wooyoung, San, Jongho, Mingi,"

"Just let her sleep down here." Yeosang shrugged, "I'll be down here most of the time anyhow."

"Dude, you get zero sleep." Mingi chuckled, shutting off his computer, "Speaking of, I'm gonna head up now. Great job today, guys. G'night."

San and Wooyoung immediately came strolling down the stairs, a pair of silver cuffs in their hands, "Found something!"

"Give them here." Seonghwa called, holding his hand out, using his fingers to motion them towards him. And one of them placed the cuffs in his hand, "Keep her down."

The two hold your shoulders against the couch cushions as Seonghwa used a pocket knife he pulled from his pocket to cut through the rope, forcing your arms to the side and locked the cuff around your left wrist, and the other cuff around the arm of the couch. 

Sure, it felt better that you were out of that rope, but with the pinching cuff around your wrist, it made it almost worse.

You sighed, rolling your wrist around, as you finally had circulation returned to your wrist. 

Seonghwa sighed, "There." He grabbed the two spare keys and tossed them to the other at the end of the desk, "Keep an eye on her."

You could feel your hand go numb as the blood began to rush back to your fingers, "This is not ideal, but it's better than how it was." You mumbled to yourself, using your thumb to crack your stiff fingers.

Yeosang sighed, spinning around in the chair to continue using his computer, "So..." He whispered. "I know they said you're a news caster, but what station do you work for?" He asked softly, clicking on different links on his screen.

You cleared your throat, "I, uh, I work for STVU. I do field... field reporting." You swallowed roughly, feeling your throating drying up more as you spoke, “They decided it was easier-“

Yeosang chuckled, “All I needed to know was the station.” He pulled up the news website, playing back the live feed. “These your coworkers?” Yeosang motioned to the screen.

Nodding your head, you looked as they stood in silence and you could already imagine the teleprompter moving before their eyes, the producer nodding them to continue. You could imagine the shock from them calling on you, and finding your producer picking up your now shattered cell phone on the ground as the hostages continue to file out of the museum. 

Yeosang tapped a pen on the desk, “Looks like the missed out on the money shot ‘cause you weren’t there.” He chuckled, exiting the full screen, “They really depend on people of your career.”

You coughed lightly, “So, what’s the point of keeping me here? If they depend on me so much, what’s the point?” Yeosang turned around in his seat, using his legs to roll over to you on the couch, “Because it gives us an upperhand.” He smiled, almost sinisterly, grabbing your free hand, “It gives us a huge hand. Return the Dream Texts to the most loyal group, Kyomi, or we kill off the newscaster.” He chuckled, looking up at you sitting on the couch, fear brushing your brows and forehead in the form of sweat, “But, you already know we don’t kill people.” He laughed, pushing across the floor back to his desk, “Or, do we?” He began to type on his computer, “I mean, if we did, it’s not like anyone would find out. We have this disposable land, buried under these old junker cars. If we did kill anyone, we’d bury them under those junkers and call it a day. And, the dead can’t speak.”

The way he spoke about it made you wonder, have they really never killed anyone? Have they really, honestly, never did what he spoke about?

Laying down on the couch to calm your anxiety never really helped; In your everyday life and in this situation now. Normally, you’d come home from work and eat, drink, and then lay down on the couch until you passed out from exhaustion, but here — here was so much different. You didn’t feel overworked, you didn’t feel tired even in the slightest, you weren’t hungry, you weren’t thirsty. You were just horrified. And uncomfortable. Your hand would normally meet your hair halfway through the night but with your hand chained up to couch arm, you couldn’t get comfortable. And the only way to get comfortable was to have your bone pressing against the bottom of the arm of the couch.

You just decided that staying awake for the rest of the night would be fine. After all, you did have a later broadcast time rather than waking up at the crack of dawn. So, staying up wasn’t immediately out of the question; in fact, it would’ve been the perfect option.

It was damn near the crack of dawn, and Mingi was right, Yeosang didn’t get any type of sleep. Not even a second of resting his eyes. He just sat in front of his computer screen, typing on his keyboard with a click from his mouse here and there. You wondered how he could do that, especially when you, personally, couldn’t sit at a desk for longer than 10 minutes before getting up and finding anything else in the world to do. You honestly didn’t know if he even got up and used the restroom, if he got something to snack on or to drink. He seemed completely entranced by his computer screen.

You assumed if you loved what you did that doing that type of work wasn’t as grueling.

With creaky steps, down came a lethargic and gloomy looking member of Kyomi, his blonde hair sticking up in every direction. He rubbed his chest from under his shirt, his sweats hanging around his waist, “Sang,” He called to the one sitting at the desk.

Yeosang only responded with an uninterested sound, typing something else into his computer, and a click from his mouse echoing around the two.

“Did you even get her anything to eat?” The other man asked, turning his eyes from you to the other in the chair.

“Jesus Christ, San, she’s not a fucking dog.” Yeosang scrolling down the page, “If she needed something to eat, she’d let me know. We’re like best friends, now, right, Newscaster?”

San looked back to you, rolling his eyes, “Are you hungry?” The fear overpowered San’s kindness, and you felt scared to even speak your mind. You were starving. You didn’t anything since before you went live on screen, and you had your entire menu for the week planned out. But, if he was offering to get you something to eat, you wouldn’t turn down the offer even if it killed you. So, ignoring every thought bubbling in your head like soda pop, you nodded.

San looked back to the one slumped over in his chair, scribbling down something on a notepad, “See? She was hungry.”

“Not my problem.” Yeosang shrugged, “Even if she was, it’s not like I had the key to unlock her.”

“Oh, shit.” San wandered back up the stairs, poking his head down momentarily, “Hold on, Newscaster, I’ll be right back!”

You sighed to yourself, sitting up in the couch, skillfully moving your arm around the arm of the chair to have it rest there comfortably. Sitting on the couch, confined to one spot brought back memories of your high school years, awkwardly sitting on your friends couch as they went to retrieve something from their bedroom, leaving you there to do nothing but play on the cheap cellphone your mother purchased for you. It felt exactly like that moment, with your “friend” across from you as they were comfortable in their room while you felt like you stuck out like a sore thumb.

San quickly hurried down the stairs, a key around his finger as he walked over to you, to unlock the cuff around your wrist.

This could’ve been your moment to pack up and run. This could’ve been your out. And you would’ve done it, if not for San locking the other open cuff around his wrist, smiling as he looked at you, “Now, you can get those legs moving.”

He locked the cuff around your wrist just as quickly as he unlocked it, making it known that he’s used them for something of this exact situation before. San helped you up off the couch and steadied your wobbly legs as you stood.

“Sang, I’m going to make breakfast, if you want any.”

Yeosang yawned as you walked past, the computer screen lighting up his features and the blonde hair covered up by a black beanie, “It’s fine. It’s about time I head to sleep anyhow.”

San scoffed, “I get that you’re our eyes through out the night, but you seriously need to fix that schedule of yours. You spend the whole night keeping tabs on tabloids and news broadcasts, but they never post during the middle of the night.” He scolded, with you standing there like a clueless bystander, which you were, but you had a bit of a better idea on what exactly Yeosang was keeping an eye out for.

“Heard it all before. You say that until STVU posts all of this Newscaster’s notes on us and suddenly we’re compromised.” Yeosang stood up, stretching his arms above his head, “With that being said, I’m heading up now.” He shut off his computer and wandered over to the stairs leading up to the mysterious upper floor, “G’night, San. See you later, Newscaster.”

You lifted your free hand in a silent attempt to bid him a goodnight, or good morning in this case, and looked at San.

“He’s a trip.” San sighed, leading your cuffed hand behind his into the rickety old kitchen, “What are you hungry for?” “Um,” You shrugged, “Anything, really. I could eat anything.”

San lead you over to the foldable kitchen table that was enough to fit two, and unlocked your cuff, almost forcing your hand against the brace of the table as he locked you in, “Sorry, safety measures. You understand, right?” He smiled at you as he kneeled down to unlock his cuff, shaking his hand, “I’ve only had mine on for a couple minutes. How did you wear that for so long?”

You shrugged, looking around the kitchen for any type of impossible escape. It was in this moment you realized just how tired, panicked, and anxious you were. The late night shift was hitting you a bit too hard now, the drowsiness infecting your eyes like a sickness. You were worried for the next person to walk down the stairs, what they'd say or do. And you were anxious for your day's beginning behind these walls. Should you be worried about what they'd do to you, or should you just stick out the days and hope with enough time, you'd be let back into the world and live your days like they were your last? 

Everything in the kitchen of this shack they inhabited was rundown. There was a vent with no cover, the floorboards squeaked with every step San took across the room, and if you moved your own feet enough, you could feel the splinters covering the floor. The appliances and cupboards looked like ones they found in the junkyard just outside their front door, although you had to admit, the repair on the appliances were like no other, giving a clean finish with a bit of damage here and there. Whereas, you could not say the same for the cupboards which looked like they were living on their last leg of life; cracked wood, rusted hinges, and some even missing half, or a whole door. 

San pulled open the fridge and pulled out a carton of milk, then opened the cupboard and pulled out a sack of flour, and a pan, “Do you like pancakes?” He asked, sickly sweet that made your tummy hurt.

You turned your eyes to him, nodding.

San smiled, grabbing the pancake mix from the cupboard as well, making his way to the stove to turn it on, “So,” He started, “I know you’re a newscaster, but other than that, I know nothing about you.” He looked back to you, “Tell me about yourself.”

You shrugged, “Um, well, My name’s Y/N, I’m in my 20’s.” You shrugged again, realizing now that sharing your life story to an unknown stranger who also happened to kidnap you and used you as an advantage hostage for the government to give them what they want. “What is it exactly you guys want?” You asked hesitantly, scared to have touched a nerve.

“The Dream Texts.”

‘Which are?” You made a face, and turned your palms upwards, shrugging.

“Which are-“

“Which are none of your business.” Another voice echoed, and you turned around to find a groggy Seonghwa, glaring at you from across the table, “That information is classified for Kyomi, only.” He leaned against the table, “If your view on us changes, maybe you’ll find out.”

“Hwa,” San started, flipping a pancake onto the pan, “Come on.”

“What?” Hwa immediately began to push away from the table, and sized up the other male across from him, although they were practically the same height.

San gripped the pan’s handle, “Think about it. If she’s gonna be here for as long as we’re hoping, she should get to know us. Us, personally, and us as an organization.”

Seonghwa stepped closer, glaring at him, “And why would you do that? You’re willing to lay everything on the line for a snake to share it with everyone she’s knows, if she ever does get out.” Seonghwa had San practically up against the wall of their kitchen in the shack, and San’s knuckles went white as his grip tightened on the handle.

“You really don’t want to me to hurt you.”

“Like you’d ever hurt me.” Seonghwa chuckled, his tongue poking his cheek, “If you even move so much as an inch-“

The chair to the table across from you was pulled out, and you pulled your eyes from the fight, to find Yeosang sitting there, yawning, “They’re fighting again.” He sighed, leaning on his hand.

“Do…” You paused, “Do they always fight like this?”

Yeosang moved his hand side to side, “Sometimes. It’s always something stupid.” He complained.

You looked at Yeosang just for a moment, the side of his face all too familiar for only being in this place for a few hours, his birthmark decorating the side of his face. His hair was mussed in all different directions, and there were purple bags under his eyes, possibly from his insane sleep schedule. 

You looked back to the two across the room, Seonghwa holding San by his shirt against the wall as the latter tried his best to swing the hot pan across Seonghwa's head, the perfectly cooked pancake laying on the floor, now broken into pieces.

"Oh, my pancake." You whispered under your breath, sighing, placing your hand against your belly as it grumbled.

Yeosang sighed, standing up from the table, "Alright, you two." He wandered between the two, opening the fridge, "What happened?" He pulled out a wrapped bowl of what looked like macaroni and cheese, using a spoon discarded in the strainer and then ate the food cold, not bothering to step out of the duo's way. 

The two immediately began to go on a ramble, San pointing the end of the frying pan at Seonghwa's face, and Seonghwa keeping San pinned against the wall. Yeosang looked between the two, absorbing all the information as if he was in a comedy show, shoveling another spoonful of macaroni and cheese into his mouth. 

And as the two men threatening to bite each other's heads off settled down, Yeosang turned to set the bowl beside him, "Now, doesn't this all seem silly?" He asked sarcastically, a smile crossing his lips.

San and Seonghwa continued to glare at each other, releasing each other from their grasp, just as the other members joined to watch the drama unfold in the doorway of the kitchen. Hongjoong sat at the chair across from you, and the others peeking in. 

Yeosang patted both their backs, "Okay, good. Let's continue planning our next move." He nodded, picking up the bowl and wandered out to the living room, the sound of a gentle clatter from his spoon hitting the bowl as he set it down to get into his chair comfortably. "Mingi, pull up the National Bank."

Mingi yawned, "It's too early for this." He rubbed his eyes, but nevertheless, sat down at his computer and typed in the National Bank of South Korea, "There."

From being attached to the collapsable table, and with the room being empty, you listened as closely as you could to what exactly they were planning. You heard a voice here and there asking questions before Yeosang took over, "The National Bank has a piece of the Dream Texts, and I know where it's hiding." He chuckled darkly. 

You already saw the perfect opportunity to get your ass away from here; in front of you, sat a shoddy door, with a lace curtain that must've been pinned up in an attempt to make it look not so bad. It was only a mile from you, at least it felt like it, when it was only a couple steps ahead. And you would've taken it, if it wasn't for the giant, grey collapsable table you were currently handcuffed to. You would've ran out the door, screaming your head off about the horrendous situation you found yourself trapped in to anyone who would listen. You had an idea to even carry the table on your back almost like you were Sisyphean rolling the boulder up the hill, for all eternity. 

San's voice cut through the air, "Y/N?" He called, peeking into the kitchen, his voice recognizable enough to cut your thousand-yard-stare in half, "You okay?" He asked gently, looking at your eye's connecting to the door.

You turned to look at him, your eyes delayed like your mouse as work with the horrendous input delay, "I'm okay." You nodded to him, even willing him to accept it with a gentle smile. 

"Well, alright." San nodded back, "If you need anything, we'll be in here." He smiled, dragging his feet across the floor and sitting on the couch as Yeosang continued.

In a perfect world, they would've recruited you into their ranks, having you join in on the meeting about what came next, allowing you to go to and from as you please, make your own food. And overall, have you free of the pinching cuffs and let you exist as yourself.

"Seonghwa, Wooyoung, and Yunho, you two will enter from the top window, using the special forces gear we got from Jongho's truck run." Yeosang held the pen cap in his lips, as he pulled out the printed blueprint from his printer next to his desk, "That way we can get an upper hand for the Dream Texts. You three will check the top floor while the rest of you, hold the bottom floor."

"It'll just be me and Joong." San pointed his finger at them both, "We can't possibly hold an entire floor by ourselves. I mean, it took Wooyoung, Yunho, Joong and I to just barely keep the floor of the museum clear."

Yeosang smiled a bit more sinisterly, "You're all forgetting one valuable hand in all of this." He cackles.

"I hate when he does this." 

How, was all you could ask yourself. How is it possible to be in this situation again? The cramped van, the uncomfortable ropes and the barrel of the pistol pressed against your temple. And it happened to be the only nice member holding it there. You were blindfolded, and you wouldn't be surprised if you were dead already. This all had to be some type of nightmare.

Despite being the very valuable part of this plan to get into the bank, you were the one that was once again at the end of the barrel. When you learned that you'd once again be placed in that terrifying position of playing a hostage, Yeosang spoke with almost a chuckle, almost like he liked seeing someone under duress. As well as the others. 

All this for some stupid writing? All this for Dream Texts. It was hard to believe you'd be forced to stay with them. 

Jongho, who you learned was Web, after connecting the dots, was driving around the city in a car that was a little too small for the group. You were aware of all the codenames at this point. Wasp was Seonghwa, Hornet was San, Killer was Hongjoong, Sharp, Wooyoung. Spiral, Yunho. And Base was Yeosang and Mingi. 

You knew their plan, and their means of getting to the oh-so desired Dream Texts, which you still had no idea what it was about or why it was so important to them. The only thing you could think of was National Treasure, the Nicholas Cage movie, which was, in it's entirety, about a treasure map on the back of an official government document. Maybe that's why they want it so bad, you thought, for money and fame.

Jongho stopped, dropping off the five in front of the National Bank, one you attended since you began your adult life. It had a bittersweet nostalgia, the building. It was where your family was charged foreclosure. It was where you cashed your first check after a successful month of your career. It was where you paid the down payment for your family's new house, after living with family for years. 

Some would say you had a humble upbringing; learning the importance of money and paying dues where it's needed. You would say you had a difficult life. Getting a job as soon as you could, paying for your own high school expenses, and funding your own college education and tuition. You were constantly stressed out, and even now, with a steady job, you were considered a workaholic, but who could blame you? Cause and effect is what you normally pushed it off with. 

Seonghwa, Yunho and Wooyoung split off from San, who gripped your arm tightly, and Hongjoong. They all had their weapons around their shoulders and masks that covered their faces, that you weren't even aware they had put on. The masks were different from what you had first seen, this time, they all donned balaclavas, unlike the clown masks you've seen them in previously. 

You were still blindfolded, a sound of a shattering glass echoing through the sky, San tugging you along into the building.

You were aware that you, in this situation, were a hostage again. You weren't sure if this is where you died, or if they'd take you with them again. So, you tried to settle the pit that lingered in your stomach as San shoved you onto the floor, a ray of bullets echoing through the air and a loud yell of "get down!" interrupting the fire. 

You felt that anxiety and impending doom creep into your chest again, your brain shifting gears back into fight or flight. After all, you were nothing but an accessory for them to use. Your life, to them, had no meaning. They could preach that they don't kill all they would like, but they would actually have to take responsibility for their actions of causing psychological damage to others.

Hongjoong cleared his throat, raising his voice, "We are Kyomi! We require the Dream Texts. Who here is the bank manager?"

A woman shakily raised her hand, and looked around anxiously. 

Hongjoong motioned for her to approach, and when she was close enough, Hongjoong gripped her arm and looked her in the face, "Open the safe, and don't try anything funny." He whispered. 

You used the linoleum floor to push the blindfold from your face, catching sight of Seonghwa and Yunho standing on the second floor, their guns positioned at the back of the victims. It almost looked like they were ready to shoot. 

Hongjoong lead the bank manager around to the safe at the back of the building, where she opened it with shaky hands. Then a shot was rung out.

The desk someone sat at was completely destroyed, the sight of Seonghwa glaring through his balaclava. 

"Every one of you to the center floor now!" Seonghwa shouted, and people began to shuffle towards yourself and San. From the position Seonghwa was in, it was obvious he could see the entire floor. 

Hongjoong returned with the bank manager, a plastic wrap tucked into the vest he wore. "That wasn't so hard, was it? And no one got injured." He chuckled, returning the bank manager to the group that sat on the ground floor.

Hongjoong spoke clearly, "Secured. Web, whenever you're ready." His hands rested on the gun, and looked into the faces of the victims; some were teary eyed, some were angry and some were avoiding their eyes. 

You looked into the eyes of one, sympathizing as their eyes watered in terror.

This. This was your out. 

You opened your mouth as San began speaking, and didn't mutter a word; just mouthed it. Using your eyes to motion them to look at Hongjoong, you mouthed the instructions. And they only furrowed their brows, shaking their head, scared of even the possibility of getting injured. 

If anyone was going to be able to end this, it had to be someone who could fight back. And there was more than enough to take the fight between the four invaders. If they had the possibility of saving everyone, even yourself, they should take it. They would be reveled as heroes; people who saved the hostages of the National Bank. But, no one would take the risk. They all had families, friends. People they loved. Creatures they loved. They wouldn't risk it. 

If you were to be the one to sacrifice, they would do it. Because the blood staining their hands wasn't as bad as leaving the ones they loved. 

You assumed Jongho must've responded to Hongjoong's call. San was quick to pick you up off the floor by your restrained arms and drag you out of the building. You looked around for any type of exit to get away from them. Standing around was just as bad as doing what they were. But, once again, like every chance before, they had nearly every corner blocked off. Seonghwa, Wooyoung and Yunho were walking from the back of the building around the corner and Hongjoong opened the door for us all, before you got thrown in the back just like before. 

You anxiously watched the hostage all relax, and you begged, pleaded for a way to feel that comfort, of being able to relax. Not constantly feeling like you were under watch by these monsters. Jongho drove off as everyone sat in their seats, taking the initiative to drive away from the building, and as you drove off, you saw the police round the corner, and everyone filed out, some falling to their knees from fear. 

You wished to feel their fear. And the rush of being alive after a five minute standoff with five villains. You were oddly surprised that you could feel fear this intensely through your bones, despite being with them for a day.

"Now, you're one of us." Wooyoung chuckled.

You looked at him, your brows furrowed, "What?"

Seonghwa turned from the front seat, looking at you, "You've committed as much a crime as we had."

"Again, what?" Your teeth grit, "I was kidnapped. I was held hostage." You pointed out the obvious, looking between the men in the car, "I was an unfortunate victim in this whole situation!"

San chuckled softly, "Aiding a criminal in a crime is just as bad as doing the crime." You could already hear the condescending high pitched voice he spoke with before the words even left his lips. "You're just as guilty as we are."

"I. Was. Kidnapped." You emphasized, "By you! Those people you all just traumatized, are not the only victims." 

Seonghwa waved his hand, turning back to the front, "Someone blindfold her again. And gag her. She's getting annoying."

"You're no better." Jongho mumbled, his hand tightening on the steering wheel, "We still have a few miles to go."

Jongho easily turned into another lane, leaning on his hand as he drove.

Seonghwa looked back at the others, "Well? Are any of you gonna do it?" 

San sighed, "Yeosang said not too!"

You completely forgot that they had in-ears wrapped around the shell of their ears, all communicating between one another. You felt out of the loop; what exactly did Yeosang say not to do? What were they communicating between each other?

Seonghwa sighed deeply, obviously annoyed as he pulled out a single of his own in-ear, and motioned to you.

Seonghwa wrapped it around your ear for you, slowly pushing it into your ear.

"Go, for Base." Seonghwa called.

Yeosang cleared his throat, "Y/N? Are you there?"

You nodded, before realizing that he couldn't hear you, which you choked out a "yes" in a small, shy voice.

"If you look out onto the road, you'll see the route back to the dump." He spoke simply, "Because of this, we have no other reason than to recruit you." His voice was filled by the keys of his keyboard, "You'll either have to pledge loyalty, or we have no other option then to keep you hostage. And, possibly kill you."

"You don't kill people." You shot back, looking at the road in front of you.

Yeosang chuckled. The clicking of the keyboard stopped, a gentle creak from his chair echoing, "We unfortunately have to finish off the ones we try to recruit that don't agree. Just a little Kyomi group secret."

The list of charges they could catch just add up; armed robbery, kidnapping, assault and battery, and murder. You had the benefit of doubt that they didn't kill, and Yeosang obviously had a heavy heart telling you what exactly they did. 

"So," Yeosang chuckled, "What'll it be? Be part of Kyomi, or meet the sweet embrace of your own inevitable destiny?"

You sighed; It was a lose-lose situation. Either commit crimes and the possibility of life in prison, or die? If you had another option, you'd take that in a heartbeat. Being a housekeeper, being an informant for the group, or just going home, would have sufficed. 

But, obviously, they cared too much about their pride to let you off the hook so easily. They cared too much about those Dream Texts that you still have no clue what they were about. They cared too much about their own safety to risk sending you off in the world.

You clenched your fist, "How do you know that I'm not in connection with the police? What if I let you all take me hostage?"

"Because you aren't that smart." Yeosang whispered, his voice tickling the inside of your ear, "L/N Y/N, graduated from SKU with a degree in journalism, which is surprising, since you only had a 2.8 GPA throughout your school career." His voice twinged with amusement. "You spend majority of your money at the convenience store and on bills. You live in an apartment complex, although I won't share the address, I know where it's located. Your social security number is—"

"Okay, okay." You stopped him, "Okay, fine. I get it." Your lips trembled as you spoke, "I'll... I'll join Kyomi."

Yeosang chuckled, "I knew you'd choose the right choice." You could hear the smile in his voice. "But, for the time being, you'll have to keep being restrained, for the safety of my comrades."

You wanted to curse at him, and let all of your aggression out on him. If they really thought they were gonna get away with this, they were sorely mistaken. 

You would find a way to report them, and you would finally be free of the wack jobs that thought it would be a good idea to kidnap you.

It's been two months since Yeosang thought it was a good idea to have you join Kyomi. And it absolutely was not. Your plan to get out of there as quick as you could wasn't working as well as you hoped, but, everyday, you spent your hours looking for a way to leave, to report what exactly happened to you.

Your face would briefly show up on the news every now and again, with your family begging for you to find your way home, as if the police force haven't already ruled you out as presumed dead. 

The last everyone saw of you was at the National Bank, where you were pulled away by the rope tied behind your back. You still feel the rope around your wrists every now and again, waking up from nightmares, hoping it was all a joke that you were put in this position. 

Nevertheless, you pretended to be on their side. Seonghwa has lightened up to you, and will even indulge about San and Wooyoung's ridiculous behavior. Mingi was back in the game, having you taking over his spot as resident hacker of the group. Those coding classes would've done you well, if you had any idea this is what you'd be doing. Yet, it seems like every time you touched a keyboard, your mind blanks on why exactly you agreed to do this.

Yeosang has everything blocked on your computer, which you believed he put on as soon as Mingi said he'd want to join the guys on their heists. 

You've been given a new identity, essentially. They didn't call you "newscaster", they called you "Centipede," which you wholeheartedly believed was Yeosang's idea, after he shared his disgust to centipedes after. You and the arthropods. 

You wore an in-ear, just like Yeosang did, and talked with the guys while they were out, and it still hits the ear wrong when they call you the name. Like they were taunting you.

Aside from the new, definitely underpaying job and the new name, you could not even begin to describe the bedding situation. You shared a bed with 7 others; all guys. You were, rightfully so, tense every time you walked in after a shower to grab a fresh pair of clothes. The beds were lumpy and you slept on the bottom bunk, shared with Seonghwa at the top, who slept like a rock, but was surprisingly easy to wake up when it was needed. A slight tap on the shoulder and he was awake. You didn't understand that when you were first nabbed by them, when he was sleeping in the van. Not to mention, he slept max four hours. Wooyoung and Yunho had a bad snoring problem, so you could rarely get any sleep through the two months, but now, unfortunately, you were growing accustomed to it. It was like white noise. And you didn't even want to start with the splinters you received on the first night; bad mistake not thinking to borrow someone's slippers.

Hongjoong, Mingi and San were light sleepers. You'd shift in your bed across the room, and the three of them were already staring at you, like you were in the wrong. San slept with stuffed animals, which was entirely uncharacteristic of the Hornet you met the first time you were brought there. 

Everyone of them were uncharacteristically what you thought; Seonghwa was actually a sweetheart when he wasn't under pressure; he enjoyed building legos, and had the ones he built sitting in the shared window the two of you had. San was an animal lover, and you had to turn away multiple strays he brought back to the shack. Mingi was quiet. He had a bunch of interests that you really couldn't keep track of. Yunho was like a giant puppy. A single bit of praise and his invisible tail was wagging like he had happy tail. Hongjoong was much more serious than the others, despite his first introduction. Wooyoung was more or less the same, but when he wanted to be, he was much too serious than what you were used to. You were used to his boisterous laugh that echoed through the house, yet he gets pulled out into the field and he changes demeanor completely. Jongho wasn't fond of praise and gratitude, in fact, he spent most of his time waiting for the guys to finish up the heists by driving around, listening to girl groups. 

The only one you could never really understand was Yeosang. He seemed much like the same as when you first met and saw him. Bags under his eyes from staring at a screen all night and all day, disheveled hair and kept to himself. You both never slept at the same time. He was the eye in the sky, and the security. He slept around the time all of you woke up, yet, he was up and at 'em not even an hour or two after he slept. Now that you think about it, there was only eight beds available in the barracks, as you like to call them, and you were the eighth. It made you think about where exactly Yeosang would sleep, and you began to wonder if he took your place on the couch to rest or if he stole someone else's bed to sleep in.

This morning started like any other; restless, tired and exhausted, and you were aware that all the words you were repeating to yourself had the same meaning, but that only emphasized your point that you were so exhausted, you couldn't think of anything else. 

Yunho and Wooyoung were snoring so much that night, you thought they might've caught a cold from the way they sounded. Maybe that's why Wooyoung was so goofy with you, the lack of oxygen to his brain during sleep.

Hongjoong woke up and wandered over to you, nudging you slightly, and you turned to look at him. "Holy shit," he began, "I think you're beginning to spend a bit too much time with Yeosang." His finger went under his eye and began to swipe there back and forth. 

You sighed, sitting up, "It's not that. They never shut up." You whispered to him, pointing at the two chronic sleep apnea patients, "I'm so tired." The exhaustion was beginning to catch up to you, and you rubbed your eyes. 

Hongjoong smiled softly, "Well, today's a rest day while Jongho tries to find a new car for us to use the plates you found yesterday. Take the day to yourself."

You sighed, nodding lightly. 

Normally, taking a rest day back in your normal life, you would have went out shopping and went to visit friends and family. Now, all you had to yourself was a walk around the junkyard, occasionally ending it earlier than you would have liked to due to a pest running rampant through the disgusting, rusted cars and whatever trash was left in there. 

And that was definitely not going to cut it. 

"I'll make some breakfast. Eat, then come back up to rest." Hongjoong basically planned your entire day for you. All you wanted to do was sleep the day away, which is something you've done a lot on rest days. 

Hongjoong wandered around the corner to get downstairs and you laid back on the lumpy bed, your head meeting the pillow in a short second. The snoring seemed like it was getting louder by the second, and you were too exhausted to even move to cover your ears.

You shifted positions to face towards the empty bunk Hongjoong left, wrapping the weighted blanket around your body, and burrowing your nose into the soft fabric, sighing as you felt your tension melt away. 

If you were home in your apartment, you wouldn't have had this issue. You wouldn't have to try almost anything to fall asleep. Hell, you wouldn't have even woken up. Tale has it, you were a heavy sleeper before you were brought here. 

Shutting your eyes and hoping for the embrace of sleep to take you over, you sighed just as the steps creaked. Opening your eyes was already too much of a labor, so you just covered yourself more with the blanket.

A sigh exited from someone's lips, the floorboards creaking as they walked over towards the bottom bunk bed and laid back. Wooyoung was directly above them, as they laid in Hongjoong's empty bunk.

"Shut up." A kick was met to Wooyoung's stomach from underneath, right underneath the bed slats. "Get a mask." They scolded.

Opening your eyes, the exhaustion was already setting again, squinting as you looked across the short distance.

Yeosang laid on the bed, the shadow under his eyes already looking worse for wear. His shirt was discarded on the floor, and his sweatpants were below his hips. He covered his face with his forearm, sighing as his body relaxed. 

Okay, so Yeosang was attractive. That much was obvious. And, what's the worse that could happen? He breaks your heart because he's too focused on Kyomi? Or, he doesn't see you the same way because he works too close to you?

You blinked as you watched his body relax, his free hand resting on his belly, his fingers brushing the waistband of the grey sweatpants.

The last two months were long. Tiring, even. But, just like you would do in high school, you'd take extra care into your appearance, even if it meant you got a second longer of a look from someone.

"Stop staring at me." 

You nearly jumped out of your skin at the harsh call, feeling your ears bleed red. 

Yeosang moved the arm over his eyes and faced you, his hair falling in front of his eyes.

"Sorry." You mumbled, "I was spacing out."

Yeosang chuckled, "You're an idiot."

The jab was meant to be cruel, but you could see the sparkle in his eyes, and the smile that crossed his lips, and oh, my god, did you hear that laugh? The way he spoke, even if it was meant to be cruel was so soft, and you know it's just how he is; his care and warmth are there, despite the harsh words that bite at you.

You rolled your eyes, curling your legs under the blanket, "Are you going to sleep now?"

Yeosang shook his head, "I never really sleep much when I get up here." He mumbled, studying the slats as if there was something there, "Wooyoung and Yunho snore too loud."

You laughed softly, "Tell me about it."

Yeosang smiled softly, closing his eyes briefly, "I wonder if it's even worth sleeping in here."

Shaking your head, you smiled gently, "It's not." It was simple, shortcut. "I haven't gotten a good night's rest since I've been given this bunk."

Yeosang's face relaxed, turning his head back to you, "Can I ask you a question?" His voice was like shoes dragging through gravel, and his eyes stared at you intently. You couldn't help but nod. "Why did you agree to stay? And why haven't you even tried to leave yet?"

"Oh, my god, you mean I could've went home?" You asked sarcastically, your eyes playfully widened. But, you saw the look in his eyes and decided that maybe it was time you opened up to him. It was your turn to sigh, turning to look up at the slats that held Seonghwa's bed, "My life was going nowhere in the job I was in." You spoke simply, "I didn't even want to work for a big news station like that. I would've rather have worked back in my hometown, but, someone got the job I wanted."

Yeosang looked at your profile, his eyes scanning the way your nose was, the curve of your lips and the long eyelashes you had. He's worked beside you for two months, and he never noticed just how enticing you were. Your eyes turned to his, his heart nearly beating out of his chest.

"Besides," you started, "My family never really checked up on me." Shrugging, you got all the more comfortable, "Everything we see on the news feels a bit fake anyhow."

Yeosang couldn't really recall his family life before Kyomi and the Dream Texts.

"We've given you so many opportunities." Yeosang whispers. 

You chuckled, "Did you really though?" You asked softly, "The last two months, I'm scared to even try to sleep." 

Yeosang shook his head, "You didn't have to be scared." He mumbled, "We've always given you an option."

His eyes were shining, the sun hitting his brow bone to give you a better look at the honey eyes he had. 

"Well, I'm here now." You responded, his eyes completely captivating his beauty.

Yeosang and you held the eye contact, not saying another word to one another. Wooyoung and Yunho's snoring filled the air between you two.

Tension, heat and pressure surrounded you both, before Yeosang scooted himself off the bed and wandered over to you, climbing on top of you over the blanket and leaned his face close to yours.

"Do you feel it too?" He whispered, his lips only inches apart from yours.

A breath was caught in your throat, and you swallowed roughly. You assumed he was talking about the sudden tension that covered you both, and you agreed. You did feel it. It loomed over your head, every so often. Now, during missions, after missions.

"You do feel it." Yeosang smirked, leaning forward to encapsulating your lips with his own. 

The dream you've had every night about him was coming true. Yeosang had a sweet tooth, the citric acid from Sour Punch Straws he frequently ate echoed against your lips. His long hair practically covered his eyes as the strands brushed your cheeks. His hands were hot against yours as he intertwined your fingers with his own. His weight was distributed evenly on top of you, basically pinning you down to the bed.

Yeosang pulled his lips away from yours, his face still centimeters from yours, "I've been wanting to do that since you took over Mingi's desk."

You blushed, feeling the blood rush through your neck up to your ears.

Yeosang's hand gently cupped your cheek, rubbing your skin with his calloused thumb, "Tell me if you want me to stop."

His lips met your neck, his tongue gently running along the skin, his hand hot against your cheek. His lips left wet kisses against you, and when a gasp escaped on a certain spot, they turned up into a smile, gently biting the skin with his teeth. 

His lips, his lips, his lips, it was all you could think about as they moved from your neck, down your chest, stopping just at your belly button, placing gentle kisses on the skin and rubs your thighs with his hands.

You were so nervous, you honestly couldn't remember the last time you got laid, let alone by someone you work with. If you remembered correctly, it was a year or so-

Yeosang had pulled your shorts off, along with your panties, smiling softly, "Look at you, kitten. Aren't you so pretty?"

God, you thought, When he calls me that, it makes me want to scream. 

His smirk only grew wider, "Do you want to continue?"

You nodded your head vigorously, already sure that you would have given yourself whiplash, "Please."

Yeosang settled in between your legs on his stomach, throwing your legs over his shoulders and held your thighs in place with his hands.

His hands were strong, and veiny. They were warm around your thighs, compared to the cold chill in the air. His callused hands were rough against your soft skin, his tongue a nice heat against your mound.

Your hand shot to grab at his hair as he sucked on your clit, a soft moan escaping your lips.

"Shh, baby, you don't wanna wake up the others, right?"

It was impossibly hard to think of keeping your moans back, since Yeosang was making you feel so good.

Yeosang continued his pace, his tongue dipping down in between your folds, working his fingers against your clit.

The thought of waking up the others from their slumber excited you, and almost made you infinitely more comfortable with the idea.

Yeosang kept his eyes trained on you as your chest rises and falls, watching how each movement of his tongue affected you. And when you began to groan, your legs shaking, Yeosang knew just how well of a job he was doing.

"Sang..." You whimpered, thighs threatening to squeeze against his head. 

Yeosang chuckled, using his thumb to pull the hood of your clit back to teasingly bite at it, lifting his head as you let out a loud yelp. He glanced around the room, hearing an interruption of Yunho's snore before he began once again, "Come on, kitty cat, can't you try to keep quiet?" He sat up, positioning himself between your legs, his buldge pressing against your heat, the sweats he wore staining with the wetness from your cunt.

"Sang..." Your voice was strained, looking up at him with begging eyes, "Fuck..."

"Can't get the words out?" Yeosang smiled, leaning forward as he laid on his arms on either side of your head, "Come here, baby." He whispered, pressing a deep kiss against your lips, one of his hands running through your hair just as the other tugged his sweats down, the tip of his cock pressing against your entrance, "Is this okay?" He gasped softly.

You nodded, "Yes, yes... More than okay."

Yeosang smiled softly, capturing your lips once more as he slowly pressed into you, the heat from the stretch as you grew accustomed to the size of his cock was painful, yet pleasurable. "Fuck, you're so tight, baby." He bottomed out, holding you close to him as he slowly moved his hips against your own. He chuckled as a loud moan escaped your lips, using the hand that tangled in your hair to cover your mouth, "Shh, shh, angel." He cooed softly as his thrusts grew faster, looking between the two of you where you were both connected.

Yeosang's cock twitched against your walls, listening to your groans and smiling as he felt you clench around him.

"Y/N!" a voice called up the stairs, and Yeosang and you both shared a look. "Hey, Y/N, are you still awake?" 

Yeosang adjusted your position so you both laid on your side, pulling the blanket over his head, looking up at you, "Pretend to be asleep." He whispered, his cock continuing to press into you. "And keep quiet."

You furrowed your brows, looking down at him before Hongjoong stepped up the stairs. Yeosang's hips continued to roll against yours, and you felt a soft whine about to escape your lips. 

"Hey, Y/N." Hongjoong approached the bed and despite your best efforts, you screwed your eyes shut, and buried your face in the pillow. Yeosang moved slow, pressing soft and silent kisses against your sternum. "Y/N, food's ready."

Your ears were bright red, the soft sounds of your wet cunt echoed against the walls. Or were you just toning out Yunho and Wooyoung's snoring? 

Hongjoong called your name one last time before he found his way back down the stairs. As if on cue, Yeosang peeked his head out from under the blanket, chuckling softly, "Good girl." He whispered, grasping your hips tightly in his hands, "You're just a good girl." Yeosang thrusted deep into you, "Gonna cum for me?" His thumb rubbed at your clit, his voice gruff and strained as he laughed at your convulsing.

"Mmhmm." You whined out, gasping as his thumb continued his assault.

"Cum for me, kitty." He whispered, moaning out as he felt his own climax quickly approaching, "Fuck, you feel so good."

As your cum dripped from your cunt, Yeosang was quick enough to pull out from your entrance, his cum coating your lower half, his gasps turning into panting as his cock twitched in his hand.

Yeosang chuckled breathlessly, leaning forward to press a kiss to your forehead, "Fuck, baby." He smiled, holding your ankles gently to move your legs from around his hips, "I knew you'd feel good."

The action you both committed finally began to register in your brain. With 4 of the other members of the Kyomi group in the room. You quickly reached your hands up to hide your face, chuckling softly, "I can't believe we just did that." You whispered out.

"I can't believe we did that with the guys in here." He smiled, pecking your cheek before he pulled up his sweats and stood from the bed, rising his arms to hold the side of the top bunk, looking down at you, "Wait here." Yeosang turned to the restroom, grabbing a wash cloth and sitting beside you on the bed, "It's gonna be cold." He warned, chuckling softly as he pressed the cloth against your mound.

You blushed softly as his gentle hands cleaned your skin of his climax, "Did you mean what you said?"

Yeosang looked up to look at you, "You know me better than that." He mumbled, "You know I'm not one to say anything if I don't mean it."

"So, you've really been thinking about this since I took over Mingi's desk?"

Yeosang smiled, "Actually, I've been thinking about it since you got your callsign." He folded up the cloth, setting it down on the window sill, "I didn't make it up for no reason."

You pulled your bottoms up your legs, laying on your side to look at him, his arm around your hip as he leaned on his hand, smiling at you, "I thought you hated centipedes?"

"Sure. But, it's just a callsign." He shrugged, "It doesn't mean anything." He used his other hand to cup your cheek.

"Okay, sure." You rolled your eyes, smiling at him, "You must've had a lot of fun when taunting me."

"Sure did. Why? You liked it?" He chuckled, pinching your cheek between his fingers.

"Maybe I did."

"Bet you did."

"Yeosang!" A voice shouted up the stairs, and Yeosang was quick to move from where he sat, rushing down the stairs.

You could feel your heart racing in your throat at the urgent call and was about to follow until Seonghwa quickly dropped down from his bunk, "Stay here, Centi." He patted your shoulder as he moved around the room, waking up the remaining members, who also were quick to stand up.

Wooyoung and Yunho, who were formally snoring, furrowed their brows as they stood up. San shot up at the sound of urgency in Seonghwa's voice. 

"What's happening?" Your voice trembled, watching as the three men walked by, "Seonghwa, what's happening?"

Seonghwa almost made it past, before he sighed, "You wouldn't understand." He grumbled, "Just stay put." He continued down the stairs, skipping each step as he moved, "What's happening?"

The voices all blurred together, your feet slowly moving down the steps before you sat down just out of view.

"The cops are on their way." That was Hongjoong, "Mingi just confirmed with the scanner." You could hear the shaking of his voice.

"Jongho isn't back yet." Seonghwa glanced amongst them all, his arms crossed, "Meaning our means of leaving are pretty low."

"We could hide in the junkyard, couldn't we?" San whispered. 

Seonghwa rubbed his temples, "That's fucking stupid, San."

"We have 30 minutes to either pack up and get out of here, or 30 minutes to find a way to stand our ground." Yeosang grumbled, the echo of the mouse clicking between them all. 

Wooyoung stomped towards the steps, "Well what are we waiting for?"

Seonghwa sighed, "We'll never get anywhere in 30 minutes." He crossed his arms, "Packing up everything we need is too much of a hassle. Centi will never get far enough."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Yeosang interjected.

"She's not exactly the most active person, Sang. Why do you think I stuck her with you?" Seonghwa bit back, "We'll have to find a way to get out of this."

"Oh, dude, I can't go to prison again." Yunho groaned, tangling his hands in his hair.

"Yeosang, Mingi, wipe everything from the PC's. Hongjoong, San, you two find somewhere to get rid of our weapons. Yunho, try to get an update on Jongho." Seonghwa's brows were pinched together, crossing his arms over his chest once more, "We're gonna have to find a way to make us seem like normal people."

Everyone was quick to do their assigned tasks while you sat there on the stairs, your eyes glancing at them all from the railing of the stairs. Seonghwa turned back to the stairs, looking at you with sharp eyes.

You've remembered that look. The same look he gave you when he first saw you at the museum, and you felt just as small now as you did back then.

Seonghwa gripped your hair, looking at you, "Let me figure out you had something to do with this, and I won't stop hunting you down for the rest of your life."

"Ow, Seonghwa..." You grumbled, trying to pull your hair from his hand, and sighed as soon as he let go, "I promise, I didn't have anything to do with this."

Seonghwa continued to walk up the stairs, his eyes stuck on you until he turned the corner into the room. 

You glanced back over the railing, your eyes meeting Yeosang's. As if under a spell, you slowly began to move down the stairs to stand beside Yeosang, whose hand squeezed yours.

"I hope everything's okay." You whispered.

Yeosang smiled softly, "We'll be fine." His eyes focused on the screen, watching the recovery drive get moved to the USB plugged into the computer, "Not the first time this has happened."

Nodding your head, you moved to sit on the arm of his desk chair, his arm wrapping around his waist as he finished clicking his mouse.

Everyone was off doing what Seonghwa assigned them to do. San and Hongjoong returned from the junkyard covered in dirt, sweat rolling down their foreheads. Mingi and Yeosang both ran recovery drives through the computer before they both ripped apart the components and tossed them on their desks.

Seonghwa was stowed away upstairs and Yunho paced the front porch of the shack, the rain pattering atop the roof, a loud twang! echoing the room as the droplets rhythmically dripped into a steel bucket placed against the wall by the stairs.

"17 minutes out." Seonghwa called, tossing a backpack onto the couch; your couch that you were handcuffed to months ago.

You've grown to love the rundown shack; the leaky roof, the splintered floor, the creaky stairs. You thought you'd grow to hate the building, but... it grew on you like a rash. 

Yeosang glanced up at you as you sat on the arm of his chair, "You should go change." He whispered to you softly.

You nodded your head, "Yeah. Yeah, I'll go change." You stood up and made your way up the stairs as if someone else was controlling you. Your shoulders slumped, your head hanging down between them. You pulled on the pants one leg at a time, your shirt over your head, a coat, thick socks and shoes. 

"We can't bring her with us." You heard the voice, immediately recognizing it was Seonghwa.

Yeosang piped up, "And why not?"

"At the moment, she's one of the largest missing person's case in the country. If someone sees her with us," Seonghwa trailed off.

"We can't just leave her." Mingi mumbled, cursing to himself as a clatter dropped to the floor, "We're safer if we take her with us."

Seonghwa voice strained, "She won't say anything." He scoffed, "She's too afraid."

"She's coming with us." Your heart twanged as Yeosang's voice dropped, "End of discussion."

"Since when have you been one to make decisions?" The sound of Seonghwa's heavy boots bounced off the walls.

"Since you've grown more incompetent." Yeosang responded back, "She's coming with us."

You adjusted the jacket over your shoulders, staring at the backboard of the old closet, trying to make it seem like you weren't evasdropping at a time like this just as Yeosang reached over your shoulder to grab his own pair of clothes.

"You shouldn't be listening to that stuff." Yeosang leaned against the wall as he pulled on his clothing, moving some of his hair from his eyes, "You know Seonghwa's just being dramatic." 

"I can't help it." You shrug, turning to look at him as he laced up the boots, "Yeosang."

"Hm?"

"What's supposed to happen?"

Yeosang paused from tying his shoe before he started once more, "Same thing that happens everytime we get caught up like this; run until we find somewhere to set base again." He mumbled, "Y/N, you know, if you do this..." He stood up, grabbing your hand in his own, squeezing it, "If you do this, you'll be just like us." 

You furrow your brows, "Have I not always been like you guys?"

"Of course you have, but... this'll seal the deal. Before, you were just collateral, a hostage. But now, if you follow us down this path, you'll be a fugitive. You won't be able to go back."

You shrugged, "Well, I don't wanna go back."

"No," Yeosang chuckled bitterly, "No, you don't understand." He shook his head, "Think about it. Use the last..." He glanced at his bare wrist as if there was a watch there, but you knew he was counting down the seconds in his head, "15, 14 minutes of this time to really think."

He walked off, despite one of his boots not being tied through, not giving you a second glance. 

You stood in the middle of the room, as everyone moved in and out, grabbing their items, their clothes, their prized possessions. Hongjoong was kind enough to pack up Jongho's belongings for him.

You spent that time really thinking like Yeosang said to. You thought about your life before these two months; it was bitter, it was bland and it was unexciting. But, here... with the boys, with Yeosang, it was everything you wished for. You didn't have to dress a certain way to work. You didn't have to pretend to like the people you worked with. You didn't have to pretend like everything was okay. 

You moved your feet down the steps, seeing the 7 men who you have grown so accustomed to standing in a circle, glancing you up and down as you tightened the straps of the bag over your shoulders. 

"What are you guys waiting for?" You mumbled, looking at them all as you approached the door. 

And despite your excitement to pull open the door to the downpour, seeing eight to nine police cars skidding along the road with their lights flashing and sirens chirping was enough to have you withdraw your hand from the handle.

"Shit, they're here!" San shouted, looking out the windows to the front of the shack, "If we go out there..."

"Stop making a bad situation worse." Seonghwa bit, "They aren't gonna shoot on sight. They have too damn much to ask."

"What are we gonna do, Hwa?" Yunho asked.

Seonghwa pushed his way to the front, gently moving you aside as he slowly opened the door, his hands raised, "Don't shoot." He grumbled, lacing his fingers behind his head as he stepped down the shack's rickety steps.

The rain water pattered on his head, moving close enough to look down at the police.

"My name is Park Seonghwa." He shouted, "I'm 25 years old. I was born in Jinju. I have an older brother. My blood type is..." He was listing out random facts about himself, until an officer approached him and was quick to cuff him.

"They've got Wasp." Hongjoong dropped his items and went out into the rain, steam practically escaping his ears as he tried to intervene, only to be met with the butt of a gun and fall into the mud.

"Shit." 

"Show yourselves." You recognized the man on the intercom. God, how could you forget? You've spoken to him so many times. The police chief of the National Police Force.

San was the first to lead the way out the door with his hands up, Mingi, then Yunho, then you, then Yeosang. Police officers began to surround the area, Seonghwa now being moved into the back of a police car, Hongjoong's unconscious body being placed in the back of the same one. One by one, they got handcuffed.

"Yeosang!" You shouted, ready to run to him before the police chief placed a heavy hand on your shoulder.

"Y/N..." Yeosang barely whispered over the rain, before he was shoved into the back of a police car, sat beside Yunho was looked like he was about ready to start kicking at the officers.

You gave one final panicked look at the Kyomi members in the back of the police cars; a calm and collected Seonghwa, an unconscious Hongjoong, a panicked San and Mingi, an angry Yunho. Yet, you couldn't read Yeosang. You never could. 

You couldn't tell what he was thinking.

The police questioned you for hours about the last two months you spent with Kyomi, and you spent a lot of time with a hired therapist they said that brought in to help hostage victims. Your family were ecstatic to see you, nearly moved to tears at the sight of you wearing the black clothes, your shoes covered in mud and your hair stringy from the rain.

Despite answering their questions to the best of your ability without incriminating anybody, the entire time all you could think about was "Where's Yeosang? Is he in the station too?"

You were granted release from the station not long after being taken in, the blanket wrapped over your shoulders and holding the cup of coffee they offered you as they kicked you out like a newborn calf. You sniffled softly from the chill of the rain lingering in the air.

You glanced upwards, and your bottom lip trembled as you saw Jongho sitting there in a car, climbing inside beside him.

Neither of you shared words; Jongho wasn't one for that, but he did gently pat you on the head as soon as he turned the car on and began to drive off, the sound of 2NE1 filling the quiet space.

You never knew what happened to the boys. Jongho and you both tried to figure out what exactly happened but... there was never much about it on the news or anywhere else. Yeosang, the boys and that rundown old shack in the middle of an old junkyard were an exciting new beginning to a life you only got a taste of. But now, you'd have to live with the bitter, bland and boring life that you had previously. 

Becoming a news reporter wasn't your first option...

copyright © 2023 thewonandonly. all rights reserved.

#i love it im ngl #so happy with it #kang yeosang #yeosang #yeosang scenarios #yeosang smut #yeosang reactions #yeosang oneshot #yeosang imagines #yeosang blurb #yeosang blurbs #yeosang timestamp #yeosang timestamps #yeosang x reader #ateez #ateez scenarios #ateez smut #ateez reactions #ateez oneshot #ateez imagines #ateez blurbs #ateez blurb #ateez timestamps #ateez timestamp #ateez x reader #thewonandonly #q #kpop

[writingduhh]

Chuckle Sandwich || Shopping With Him (HC)

I had this idea while talking to my absolute bestie babe @lvrj4mie 😩 ILYSM

Im also taking requests or just any suggestions or ideas!! Thanks for reading!

❥ Jschlatt:

▷ Would rather die than go shopping… He only goes because he loves you.

▷ Holds all your bags and items you pick.

▷ Definitely will pull some skimpy or revealing clothing off the clothing rack, suggesting you try it on for him.

▷ Trying to encourage him to get outside his comfort zone (Only wearing shorts and sweatshirts 😭)

▷ After some time passes he actually begins to enjoy himself. Well, he enjoys spending quality time with you.

▷ I can see him sharing random yet entertaining stories with you as you walk around from store to store.

▷ He absolutely insists on treating you to at least one thing. Whether it’s a new pair of pants, some new shoes, or even just a pretzel from the cafeteria.

▷ Having to stop his impulse buying of stupid or useless things.

“Y/n look!” Schlatts voice calls, catching the attention of a passersby or two.

“Shh. What is it?” You playfully hush, walking over to where he stood, investigating the shelves.

Suddenly he pulled out the most ridiculous looking monkey replica (the golden ball monkey lmao

“What is THAT?!”

“It’s a beautiful golden balled monkey.” He grins, happily showing off his find.

Together you both shared a laugh. Assuming he’d put the item down you began to walk over to the next shop. To your surprise he didn’t follow you. Turning around you saw him motioning towards the register as he stood in kind.

“Jay, what are you doing? That’s expensive for such a silly thing.”

“Don’t worry y/n, we’re rich!” He jokingly responds (he would say this)

“Schlatt, are you seriously going to buy it? What are you going to do with it?”

“I’ll take him everywhere with me! I’ll tuck him into bed and kiss him goodnight.” He excitedly explains.

You can’t help but smile as you let out a small sigh.

“If you really want it, go for it.”

▷ He definitely makes sure you stop at the cafeteria for some lunch or just to taste test some snacks.

❥ Ted:

▷ Such a gentleman. He holds all the doors open for you, holds your bags, offers to pay (even though you politely refuse)

▷ He’s Low-key quite fashionable. He’d be helping you pick out trendy clothes and even help you put together cute outfits

▷ Always suggesting things for you to try on. He loves to see you happy and confident in the new clothes.

▷ Enjoys trying things on himself as well. He’d definitely throw in a crazy outfit just to get your reaction.

▷ Definitely takes this opportunity to use the Photo Booth or at least get some cute and funny pictures with the two of you

▷ I can honestly see him being the type who enjoys people watching.

▷ You sit in the cafeteria together sharing some food as you watch people walk past, making up little stories about their lives.

“Ok ok, what about him?” Ted questions, motioning towards the passerby.

“Uh, I think he is currently in a big fight with his partner. He’s definitely trying to find them a gift or something… I’m not very good at the game. You go. ” You reply.

“I thought it was a great story. Hmm ok that dude right there. He’s actually undercover right now. He’s an fbi agent called… 770. There is a huge heist going on right now in the store below us.” He seriously remarks.

“Why are you so good at this game.” You playfully sigh.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get it eventually.” He chuckles, placing a kiss in the back of your hand.

▷ Makes you do a try on haul the second you get home, mixing and mating every possible outfit

#chuckle sandwich #chuckle sammy #ted nivison #jschlatt x reader #ted nivison x reader #ted nivison headcanons #jschlatt hcs #hc #jschlatt #ted nivison imagine #ted x reader #ted nivison fanfiction #ted nivison fic #schlatt hcs #schlatt x you #schlatt x reader #schlatt imagine #schlatt #ted nivison x you #ted nivison x y/n #jschlatt imagine #jschlatt x you #jschlatt fluff #ted nivison fluff #chuckle sandwich x reader #jschlatt fanfic #jschlatt imagines

[therealtsk]

What Your Favorite Worm Ship Says About You

some people have found my crusty, old ass tumblr post on this very topic, so im making a new one with my updated opinions! Cause those are, in fact, allowed to change. Enjoy! Taylor x Lisa: you're into relationships that could be dysfunctional or healthy with one push in either direction. also something something sun lesbian moon lesbian. Taylor x Rachel: You love dogs, and you want a girlfriend who can kick your ass. You're also into bomber jackets. I respect you. Taylor x Alec: Sadly, you do exist, and you did make it weird. Go away! Taylor x Amy: You read altpowers on the daily and complain about canon worm being too grimdark. Solid odds on you having never read worm. To be clear, it's worse if you have. also something something FBI OPEN UP Taylor x Victoria: You like the vibes of Lisa and Taylor's dynamic, but you want them to be a little more heroic and a little less dysfunctional. But only a little. Taylor x Clockblocker: You're straight and liked that one joke that cropped up. I also haven't seen any of you in a hot minute, thank god. No offense but this ship is mad boring.

Taylor x Sophia: You've come to realize that Sophia is a great character who gets done extremely dirty by the rest of the fandom. Also, rivals to lovers. Taylor x Emma: This can go one of two ways. Either you adore childhood friends to lovers, or you love enemies to lovers. Either way, you're obsessed with hurt and/or comfort fics. Taylor x Theo: You actually read Worm and recognize that Theo is criminally underrated in the fandom. Now just stop shipping him with Taylor and you'll complete the next step on your journey to enlightenment.

Taylor x Simurgh: I can't say for sure you're a anime fan, but you're definitely at least a little bit of a monsterfucker. also something something inherent eroticism of being world-destroying power couple. Taylor x Greg. You read Worm SI's unironically and get really defensive when people say that Greg is an incel. Completely unrelated, you haven't spoken to a woman other then your mother in five years. Taylor x Cherie: I've been informed this is a ship. I've yet to be informed as of a reason why I should like it. Cherie likers stay mad!

Lisa x Rachel: I don't remember the last time I saw this ship that wasn't also tagged as a polycule with Taylor, so I'm going to go out on a limb and say you're an OT3 enjoyer.

Lisa x Victoria: You’re into the “enemies to lovers” trope, but more of the "Spiderman x Black Cat" type then the "you murdered my entire home town but i can't help but find you sexy" type. Also you have a thing for blondes

Lisa x Faultline: Your ideal relationship dynamic is bickering married couple. You're also into heist movies.

Lisa x Simurgh: You have a thing for smart girls... who hate you. Also, you really liked Part of the Whole.  Contessa x Alexandria: You're fucking based. Also something something inherent eroticism of girlbosses winning Contessa x Numberman: you're friends with Peri and enjoy memes about pants and math Numberman x Jack Slash: You think serial killers are hot and are starved for m/m ships. Danny x Eidolon: You're losersexual and are starved for m/m ships. Also you frequent r/wormemes Danny x Miss Militia: Honestly, i think you all died out. I couldn't be happier, this ship is fucking dumb. Amy x Literally Anyone Besides Taylor: listen, there's like a hundred different jokes i could make here, but all of them boil down to amy defenders always defending the rapist for some reason so let's just agree amy defenders are fucking cringe and move on Dragon x Defiant: You understand that this is unironically the only healthy relationship in worm with some of the best character growth and romance in the entire story, and a majority of all of it happens off screen. You're extremely bitter that so many fanfics do both of them so dirty they get beaten into different characters. Alec x Aisha: You like the idea of this ship, cause two pranksters making everyone miserable is the kinda vibe you enjoy, but constantly run into the issue that Alec is...well. Alec. That or you're into Alec's brand of shit, in which case, FBI OPEN UP Aisha x Missy: You read It's Cold Out There Every Day. I did too. Fuck, this fic is so good. I'm going to go cry about the ending again. Lily x Sabah: Yes, you know the age gap is a little problematic, you just want to be happy with your relatively healthy canon lesbians goddamn it Purity x Literally Anyone: You don't understand why people keep calling you racist. You're not! You're just weirdly defensive of the hot milf who murders people of color and seem to constantly bring up that Kaiser didn't actually believe the nazi propaganda he was peddling. You are racist btw Taylor x Brian: You...are Wildbow

#worm #parahumans #wormblr #shipping #all of my opinions are objectively correct btw #if you disagree with me you are wrong and must improve yourself #@ everyone reading this and being upset i didn't include your incredibly niche ship: stay mad #jokes aside im only including stuff i've actually seen in like. #more then one or two fics

[dayedreamm]

Your the exception I'm willing to have my love.

aged up!Miles (earth42) x overthinking!black!Reader

warnings: near death, kissing,

summary: terrible experiences could lead to great upbringings.

(in this story you dont usually speak spanish due to your past but maybe miles will be the exception.)

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

It was your fault...it was always your fault

At least that's what you believed, but with the look on miles' face you couldn't tell what he thought. He always had this stone-cold look and you were unable to tell what he thought.

you now paced around the couch miles was currently man spread on "bebe cuantas veces tengo que decirte its not your fault" miles says with an exhausted look on his face. "but miles I triggered the alarm, I almost put you in danger, I-" But before you could finish the rant Miles stood up grabbed your waist and kissed you to silence your worries. "you have got to stop worrying all the time im fine everything is going to be fine" he says.

"ok im sorry" you say in an apologetic tone. "look im going to take a shower and get this prowler shit off of me you wanna join me" miles asks with a smirk on his face. "yeah that sounds nice lemme just get my clothes from the room" you say with a smile on your face. miles disappears into the hallway and you grab your bag from the couch when suddenly hear Uncle arons voice. "he's wrong you know, it was your fault. if you didn't trigger the alarm we could have walked out of there with 200,000 dollars, but because of your dumbass we didnt!" aron said with a pissed off attitude. "not to mention its the 3rd time you have either messed up a mission or nearly messed it up" he said getting in your face. blurs filled your vision and tears threatened to fall but what he finally said made you shed all the tears that were beggining to spill. "I told miles he should have dumped you a while ago your to much of a liability, apparently he had been thinking about it but he clearly never actually did it." he says then walks away, leaving you in your tears and doubt.

you decide it was best that you didn't join him in the tempting shower and just go home. you went to the bathroom and peeked open the door a bit "hey Miles I'm just going to go home" you say trying to hide the cracks in your voice. Even though you try your best miles can obviously tell your lying. "mami tu sabes que no me puedes mentir" he says throught the shower which he suddenly turns off. He grabs a towel and wraps it around his lower body, and opens the door to see dried tears on your face. "mi amor what wrong with my girl" he says pulling you into his arms by your waist with one hand. The water droplets falling down from his abs onto the towel almost make you forget you were upset "miles can i ask you a question" "mhm" you took a deep breath and asked "do you want to break up with me or were you ever considering it" you say while your voice cracks lightly.

miles was stunned he had not ever thought of breaking up with you he was more stunned to hear those words come out of your mouth... unless...was it... his uncle.. no it couldn't be... I mean Aron had talked to Miles before about breaking up with you cause you were too much of a liability but still he was never actually going to do it. "y/n look at me.. did my uncle tell you that" he asked with determination. miles face looked angry but also sad, sad that you would think he would ever do that to his princess but mad that Aron had shared that information that shouldn't have been shared.

"yes Miles he did... but only because I had messed up the mission for like the third time" you say now staring at the floor. Miles had to admit that even though there were a few close calls, you were new to this I mean he didn't even think you would accept him as the prowler but wanting to join him in their heists made it even better. He couldn't have asked for a better person to share the rest of his life with. "look my uncle did talk to me about it but I never had actually considered it, look you're new to this I was a beginner too. That only means your going to get better and better bebé entiende?". you slowly nod your head, Miles pulls you in for a tight hug and whispers in your ear "go take a shower for me and relax ok mami, ill bring in some clothes for you to wear to bed" he says then kisses your forehead then leaves. you couldn't be more grateful to spend the rest of your life with anyone better.

Miles POV

Miles goes to his room to get dressed in a basic black shirt and blue shorts, he also picks you out one of his shirts and his boxers thinking how good you looked in his stuff. He leaves the room and places the clothes in the bathroom, but only to be met with steam he still couldn't see how you take boiling hot showers. now he went to deal with the real problem. uncle aron. he has met him in the kitchen, sipping on a cup of water. "unc why did you tell y/n that" Miles walked in with a stone-cold look on his face. Aaron stared at Miles "look Miles I get that shes your girl but she's too much of a liability and she cost us $200,000. mind you that was going to help with the rent this month, you know your mom can barely afford it on her own." Aron said with a pissed-off but nonchalant attitude. "unc we made 500,000 last month we can just use that" miles says trying to still defend you. "miles part of that was the money that we earned is going to use my share to cover for your girlfriend's mistakes. so you either pray your mom has enough money or use your share to help her out" Aron said before he walked out the door. even though Miles hated to admit it he might have to use part of his own money to help his mom but rather not tell you that makes you feel worse than you already did. little did he know you were listening to the conversation and was determined to help Miles out.

Your POV

You listened until the end of their conversation already ready to leave the house. While showering you decided you were going to prove to Aron and Miles that you could not be a mess up. you sneak back to Miles's room and slip out through his window to head down to the bank. you took the tarp off your motorcycle and headed off into the night refusing to cause miles more pain than he had already been in.

Back at the house

miles was going crazy, he didn't know where you went. Only that his bedroom window was wide open. so after searching the whole house, he called your phone... ring.....ring... "Hello," you said while the wind from the bike was heard on the call "Where are you or where are you going mi amor" he says in a worried tone "I'm just going to get your money back or possibly more... I heard what you and aron talked about in the kitchen and I'm going to make it right miles I swear baby" you say determined. miles blood nearly drained from his face, he had to stop you he couldn't let you do this on your own. "look my love i have said already it is not your fault there takes many things for a heist to go wrong and besides it was just this one time stop overthinking beloved" miles said to reassure you "no I got this I will be right back miles I swear" you said then hung up the call. over his dead body, you were going to do this alone. he went on his phone and looked up yours and tracked it down, you were going to a jewelry store. if it wasn't for this broke down city Miles would be terrified as jewelry stores have multiple security measures but he still didn't want you to do it alone. He put on his prowler outfit and was on the way to save you

At the jewelry store

you were just pulling and you were getting cold feet but you could have Aron think you were bad for his nephew, after all, Miles did look up to him. you put your mask on completing your outfit (instead of gold lines they were purple to match with miles and there are no glasses) before entering you tried to enter through the roof but the latch was stuck, then you tried to pick the lock on the back door but that was also a dead end something was blocking it on the other side. Just when you were just going to walk in through the front you were blown back by an explosion. looks like you weren't the only one trying to rob the store that night. Your head had hit the concrete making your vision blurry and ears ringing... after waiting a few seconds you attempted to make yourself crawl from the middle of the street next to your bike on the sidewalk before you blacked out.

back with miles

Miles was running over every rooftop and parkouring on the buildings to get to you. it wasn't that far away so running would be that bad. but what bad was that he was met with the building was on flames your unconscious body on the other side of the road and the sinister six laughing and driving away with a huge bag of money. he could give two shits about the money his eyes focused on you as he came in contact with your noncommunicative body. He checked your pulse and was relieved that you had just passed out, but that didn't stop him from going to the hospital. To make you look less suspicious he changed you into a shirt and sweatpants from his home before he took you to the ER.

At the hospital

Once the doctors saw the condition you were in they immediately took you in(miles changed into regular clothes as well) to the er and would respond back with any updates they may have. seconds became minutes, minutes became hours, and hours turned into 5 hours. until a doctor had finally come out with information for Miles. "how is she, is she ok, is she alive" Miles says in worry about your safety. "she seems to be ok her vitals are still stable.... but she isn't waking up. We are afraid she may not wake up." the doctors responded to the worried boy. "what the fuck are you talking about you said her vitals are fine IS SHE FINE OR NOT" miles said in a confused anger tone. "sir please calm down, she is responding to movement but isn't waking up" the doctors inform him. for the first time in a while miles tears up he couldn't lose you not now not when it was basically his fault. "may I see her" miles says to the nurse. "yes follow me, may I ask what is your relation to her" the doctors questions him "she is my girlfriend...for now" miles says under his breath as he remembers the ring he had bought for you.

After all this prowler shit and he had finally saved up enough money he had planned to move out and make you his forever. After walking what felt like forever miles was now face to face with your room. He walked in heartbroken as he saw you connected to the wires and laying on the bed. He immediately walked up to your body and held your hand. The doctor felt it was best that she left you guys alone. "Mi princesa, por favor despiértate para mí... abre esos lindos ojos para mí." although he received no response from you he began to cry into your hands and just pray and hope you would wake up.

"I thought you don't cry miles" you say in a hoarse voice. miles tears turned into teaes of joy once he saw you eyes open to meet his "Y/N YOUR OK thank god mami I didn't think I could or even know that I could make it without you." miles says as he leans into your palm while your thumb is rubbing his face. "wait hold on mami" miles says as he rushes out the room. "Doc shes awake shes ok" miles shouts out the hallway before a swarm of 3 doctors start to infiltrate your room. "she is to be stable Mr. Morales, and after a few tests she can be released into your care." the doctor says then proceeds to leave. "Hear that mama we will be back in my room watching all of your faviorite movies real soon." miles says with a wide grin on his face.

5 months later

"Miles i hope your not trying to kill me" you say blindfolded "of course not mi princesa" miles says holding your waist guiding you to where he needs you to be. it was spring time one of you faviorite times of the year, not too cold, or not too hot and there were beautiful flowers that would spread in the gardens and bring atleast some life to the darkened city. Miles smiled wider than he ever had guiding you through the forest with his hands on you waist while you have on a beautiful spring dress with some heels or jordans (your pick). "miles hunny are we almost there i love you but im getting kinda worried here." trust me we are almost there. miles finally stopped you and told you to hold out your hands, once you did he gave you circular object, then took of your blindfold it was a beautiful flower that complemented your dress and shined with your melanin skin. but the real surpise was wen you looked in fron of you to be met with a beautiful picnic and more flowers of different colors and cherry blossom trees, you were stunned and turned around to hug and thank miles but you were met with him below you......on one knee.

Is this what you think it is Miles was proposing to you.."y/n m/n l/n, you have been my biggest spark in life and have always lifted me up when I have fallen, not only did you do something dangerous for me that I beg you never do again" he chuckles at your teary-eyed face " but the fact that you have also accepted me for who I was without judgment shows I have truly found my partner in crime and the one that I need in my life so" miles says with a smile and opens the box to be met with a beautiful ring.. you remember this ring it was one you were eyeing in the store one time but the thought was too expensive to buy. "so will you marry me be my wife and instead of my Princesa you become mi reina" he says kissing your knuckles. You were filled with.. joy you've been wanting to start something like this with miles a family, get your own place, and finally live the lives you have dreamed of "YES MILES A THOUSAND TIMES YES" he picked you up, spun you around and landed a bunch of tiny kisses on your face, while you cupped his face with both of your hands

"Mi amor you should know I still may have to be the prowler just to save up enough money to get us out of here, I'm sorry I couldn't be more for you." Miles says, as he lowers you down. "Miles my boy, my love, don't you ever say that about yourself. You were willing to risk your life and do unthinkable things so we could get out of new york. you were and are the best I could ever ask for and I don't care if you're the prowler cause I know you're not really a villain." you say into his eyes. his arms hugging your waist and your hands still trap your face in between them as you both enjoy this moment. "what about your parents what do we tell them" miles says with a look of worry on his face. "That you were hired to work for a big company cause of your amazing engineering skills, which is half true since you majoring in computer science." you say to him, "I thought you don't lie to your parents Cuando te volviste traviesa" miles says with a smirk on his face. "Lets just say... Eres la excepción estoy dispuesta a tener mi amor" you say to miles, as you hug him tight and enjoy the day with your new fiance......

Eres la excepción estoy dispuesta a tener mi amor your the exception I'm willing to have my love.

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

PHEW that was longer than what I usually write but I just thought it would be sweet...

buttttt make sure to leave requests if you want something done

Dayedream outtie💖

#miles morales prowler #miles morales x reader #miles morales #prowler miles #miles morales imagines #earth 42 miles #miles g #angst #fluff #spiderman across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse

[meiishu]

i have a theory on wylan and kaz in shadow and bone (the show)

Contains major spoilers for six of crows book if you havent read that and dont want spoilers about wylans backstory keep scrolling!

Rewatching episode 2 and im at the scene where the crows are at the diner, and kaz is teling the others that they cant just kill rollins. When kaz says “killing him wont clear our names…. and then we wont be able to protect you” he looks right at wylan who flinches back. I didnt catch it on my first watch (interpreted it as him talking to both wylan and nina in general) but now my brain is whirring

I think that, if we get the ice court heist, we are going to learn that wylan struck a deal with kaz for protection when he left his fathers home. If they stick as close to the book as possible for his backstory, then wylans dad tried to have him killed because he was in jan van ecks words “an embarrassment”. So when wylan escapes his fathers hired hands in the books he is protected by kaz *because* kaz knows who he is and decides to enlist the dregs protection on him since he thinks a merchers son could be useful

However

In the show, kaz doesnt run the dregs, i believe he just ran the crow club (evidenced by him first meeting and striking a deal with per husksoll in the early episodes of season 2). He wouldn’t have had the means or the power to just decide to protect this random boy who showed up in the barrel without a reason for it, even if he thought he might be useful someday

So i believe in the show, after he escaped his fathers hired help, wylan found kaz and struck a deal with him for protection from his father. And so in exchange, kaz can go to wylan for the bombs he needs, even though wylan doesn’t *really* want to help because he doesnt like what kaz uses them for. This would set up:

A) kaz knows wylans true identity. Hes always known since before even season one and also this is how kaz and wylan are already on personal terms AND how kaz knows he can trust the things wylan makes for him despite wylan’s reluctance to help

B) wylan’s hostage moment in the ice court heist. Although in the books its kind of surprising to the whole crows that jan van eck actually doesnt miss or care about wylan, the show could deviate slightly from this, or kaz could figure out the truth but not tell anyone and use it as his plan to expose jan van eck especially if jan tries to pull the pity card for his son

C) when it does come out that wylan is a van eck, especially since jesper doesnt know, when jesper finds out that kaz knew the whole time i can see that causing a huge rift between them, especially if kaz planned to use wylan as bait and *especially* if wesper is in an established relationship. Not only would jesper be upset if wylan volunteered himself for this, but that kaz even tried this at all when he knows that wesper is together. It will feel like such a betrayal to jesper. *especially* if the show has kaz almost coerce wylan *into* being bait — although i lean more towards wylan volunteering himself because i feel as though he would do that knowing kaz’s plan. Plus, wylan and kaz working together to one up jan??? PLEASE

Sorry for ranting on main cant help it im in shadow and bone brainrot i need the ice court heist and wylans backstory SO BADLY s&b NEEDS to be renewed

Also i just want to say that i highkey LOVE that wesper will be an established relationship going into the ice court heist. We have slow burn with kanej and helnik and certain scenes will hit so much harder with wesper as an established relationship. I cant wait to see how the show takes their story from here tbh since now we’re very deviating away from the books

#shadow and bone #shadow and bone season 2 #wylan van eck #shadow and bone spoilers #wesper #wylan hendriks #s&b fantheory #kaz and jesper #kaz and wylan #mac speaks #fantheories

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 9/19/2023

unknown flu-like-symptoms-but-not-the-flu-or-COVID problems

listening

no one particular thing has been stuck in my head so here are two short little things

new release Strike by La Femme is a delightful synthy one-minute sketch of a car chase in the pouring rain. spotify

Trumpet Sketches - Remastered by Janko Nilovic is a 1:40 doodle. when the organ hits... spotify

i have been following La Femme ever since i loved their credits song for As Above So Below, and the trumpet sketches are off the spotify recommended

-

reading

actually finished this book last tuesday, still reading berserk, but i don't have coherent berserk thoughts bc im still stuffing my entire elbow into my mouth and screaming about it.

The Stolen Coast, by Dwyer Murphy, has a lot of problems. the first problem is that the publisher bills it as a "noir jewel heist" novel when it is in fact a vibes novel about being sad and trapped in massachusetts. which, mood! but very much not what i or any other goodreads reviewer signed up for.

ABOUT THE STOLEN COAST Adrift in a sleepy coastal Massachusetts town, a man who ferries fugitives by day gets twisted up in a plot to pilfer diamonds in this Casablanca-infused heist novel.

Casablanca is a real fuckin goddamn reach. this is like saying Home Alone 2 and The Taking of Pelham 123 are similar bc they both have pivotal scenes in subways. when you are expecting a cool noir jewel heist and you get a vibes book, it feels very meandering and indecisive with exceptionally poor pacing and very light on the plot. dwyer knows how to put a sentence together, and there is a high degree of aesthetic polish, but i lived in mass and found myself filling in a lot of the vibes from lived experience. this is a book that expects you to already know *extremely* minute regional accent differences.

i often found myself more interested in the antagonist lawyer and his wife (who has a standing weekly appointment to fuck her bodyguard at the region's finest wedding destination hotel, and orders champage afterwards every week) than the protagonists of our story. the femme fatale loops all the way back around to manic pixie, which i didn't know was possible for a woman to do. as an example of the aesthetic polish but editorial disarray of the book, wherein we know so much about our protagonists but so little of it is relevant, i was convinced that "our main man Jack is a Harvard lawyer" was a long running gag for most of the book (a la "our good for nothing son is actually Very Important and just slumming it here") and was actually quite anxious to see if the actual lawyer would ferret him out, but no. jack is actually a real lawyer but it simply does not fucking matter.

there are a. number of happenings that mr murphy tries to pass off as luck and just like Ha Ha Things Just Break Like That Sometimes but it really just feels like acts of god. their planned heist breaks bad for them with no consequences and then breaks very well for them with very few consequences. this is not a long book. the actual heist felt like filling time.

it's a book that's very very good at capturing the New England depression and sense of stagnancy, for want of a nail etc, the bizarre little self-important snow globe everyone lives in, but everyone has such small ambitions. this is sort of the point of noir, that the rot never actually changes no matter what you do, but the protag is the perpetrator of the rot? this is largely a personal crisis that he’s choosing not to address. perhaps most unforgivably, for such a short book it dragged a whole fuck of a lot.

i have been betrayed by whoever did this npr book review

-

watching

Forty Guns (1957, dir Fuller). this is the most movie reviewer ass section ive written in a minute. this one is for sickos only. it is not an interesting movie by itself (choppy and kind of messy) but it is an interesting movie if you know the limitations of the genre and the hays code it's slamming up against.

there is simply So Much that happens in this movie (from the very good Criterion Collection essay):

While the story sounds rather tidy in summary, the plot of Forty Guns is rife with intrigue and action—juggling political corruption, theft, betrayal, an unwanted pregnancy, a serious maiming, three romances, four murders, and a suicide. 

there's some oddly dorky but endearing straight people visual and verbal double entendre. visually unique but does not stick its landing, and i don't know that i love the original ending as opposed to the studio ending either.

it gets a solid B on the "westerns i would let other people watch" list. not one of the top three movies to convince someone that some westerns are good actually, but a fun little weird offshoot of the genre.

why did i watch this: surely by seeing a post from another cowboyblogger? it was fairly recently added to my letterboxd watchlist, but the why of it i could not tell you

-

playing

im convinced theres a bug in the Court of Fontaine region in g/enshin bc i have been stuck at 97% for several weeks now. tick over to 100% godddamnit.

-

making

acquired all the stuff to dye a couch cover, have not actually dyed the couch cover, due to being down with some sort of sickness

#tuesday again #tuesday again no problem #i have once again bungled the scheduled post #timing

[hideyseek]

2, 7, 9, and 12 12 12 12 12 12 12 12 12 12 12 12 12 12 12!

MWAH CRAB ILY THANKS IM ABOUT TO BE SO. FUCKING LONGWINDED. *reads the questions* I'M ABOUT TO REPLY IN SINGLE SENTENCES FOR POSSIBLY THE FIRST TIME IN MY LIFE.

from asks for writers to procrastinate working on your wips

2. Decriscribe [sic] your wip/one of your wips in the format of “_ + =__”

hmmm i was hoping i could come up with a funny one but none of my current wips are particularly lighthearted. let's say that the arthurcobb fic could be described as: being on the run + being painfully in love with your best friend whose wife just died = having sex with him in various motels while both of you pretend it's something it's not :3

7. Post Any sentence from your wip

There’s a figure standing in the middle of the bridge, railing falling away from him on either side, silhouetted by a nearby park lamp. (from draft 2 of mini heist!au)

ok it got long after this. putting a readmore.

9. What’s a story you’d love to write but haven’t even started yet?

OH. OHOHOHO. jk back to being longwinded! sooooo many!!! two towns is probably the longest-running one, the premise of this is "haiji's dad dies before the ekiden, and right after the ekiden, haiji goes home." i want to write sooo badly about grief in a family that does not know how to talk about anything important, and also about that discordant feeling of living at home as a young adult, and also about the repercussions of a husband's sudden death in a marriage that has been faltering for years, and also about the feeling of working toward something for years with this belief in the certainty of a fixed set of potential outcomes and then to, right at the end, have it all pulled out from under you. but really this is a fic about "what if haiji spent his whole life defining himself against his dad's idea of him and then unexpectedly his dad stopped being around to have an idea of him?" augh fuck i wanna write it so bad right now but it will be HARD WORK and i do not want to do hard work! and honestly it's fine to wait, if narrative!fic taking literally like 4 years has taught me anything, it's that i might as well just wait until i become more skilled and it'll be a more painless process overall.

12. ️Not a question, just a second kudos to send.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 when i saw this ask come in i was like ???? what the fuck is 12. but i know it now!!! WAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH LOVING AND APPRECIATING YOU!

#CRAB WAHHHHHHHHH THANKS!!!!!! #ask game #hidey speaks #two towns fic

[liv-is]

🤝 🗯️👵?

(Ask me about my WIP here!)

🤝Share a favorite WIP from another writeblr

oh hell yeah ajslkdfjkdsa ok there are so many im gonna lose it... BUT I will share, I suppose, a WIP that I got the chance to read some more from for a recent secret story swap! @vollzz's WIP Blackflame is such a delight--it's got pretty much everything I love to read about! Fantasy, intrigue, complex romance/relational dynamics, HEISTS..... it's just *chef's kiss* beautiful. I highly recommend!

👵🏼Who is your oldest (or oldest soul) main character?

This one's easy--it's Kesh!

she's "like, sixty." <3

🗯️What do you think is the most divisive or controversial aspect to your WIP?

So I decided to answer this one for The Marking Blood because it is something that has been on my mind the whole time I've been drafting it...

Anyways see below the cut for... controversy ig lol

I feel so bad saying this but it's so clear to me that if this story ever gets Out There somehow, Sylah is going to cause me a lot of problems. LOL. Like, she's the central protagonist of a story that already explores some darker themes/dynamics, and she's... not a good person. She's really not. She is obsessive, controlling, rigid, and harsh.

I am personally of the belief that protagonists do not have to be good people to be interesting and enjoyable protags. Sylah is, to me, one of the most entertaining characters I've ever written. I love her to bits. Her story and her internal struggles are so compelling to me.

There is a lot about Sylah that will be heavily (and possibly uncomfortably) relatable to some members of a certain demographic--she's the oldest child of emotionally neglectful & abusive parents. She didn't have any examples in her family of healthy interpersonal relationships. She is anxious. The Worst Case Scenario is on repeat in her head at all times. From a young age, all of her actions have dire consequences. She has to keep her sisters safe. She has to be in control.

So of course she drives away her One True Love. She's fucking mean! Everyone with an opinion that diverges from hers is juvenile and unreasonable, and they don't understand that if they don't listen to her, then bad things will happen. So she makes people listen to her. Her middle sister hates her for it! And rightly so!

The point of The Marking Blood is that, when you do what you can to survive an abusive childhood, the unfortunate truth is that these survival strategies will, at some point, stop serving you in your adult life. At worst, they'll cause you to hurt the people you love. And it is truly awful, and it's not your fault that this is how you learned to relate to others. But it is your responsibility to acknowledge this and work towards being a better friend, partner, sibling, whatever.

This is what Sylah has to learn. But it takes her a while! Because that's what the fucking book is about lol. And there are a lot of people who will not relate to her, and there will be readers who will be repulsed by the way she interacts with her family, or with her ex-girlfriend. And that's fine! But I am acknowledging that Sylah is not like. easy to approach, as a protagonist.

But for readers who will see parts of themselves in Sylah, I hope her journey, her arc, is able to inspire some reflection and hope.

#writeblr #writing community #writeblr community #ask game #asks #{roses there are many} #{sanguis in monte}

[bokettochild]

Weekly check in with stardust

i have been creating a lot of stuff and im nearly done with my online science course and should be done by the end of this week!

the other week was eid and ur girlie made sweets, dressed up, visited a friend, and made Mario Lego B) I also got stickers for my laptop but that's unrelated lol

also we made bakhlawa and makrout they are literally my favorites lol, even the people at my friends party seemed to really like them too lol

apparently I look really good in olive green so that's like also a major win for me

the stickers are like vintage looking florals ones lol

btw I've been working so much on my four swords DND au, I'm not sure what to call It tho? I was thinking like "Four Keys" because the swords are literally keys to a secret realm or whatever

btw have u had any good recipes recently? Im fasting just because I can and rn I'm just thinking about food lol

i made a fajita tonight using colored peppers too lol

if u have any good recipes please tell me I love hoarding them

btw, I have one character left with enough space for an additional trauma/mental issue on my roster for the au so honestly just send me a few different ideas for them and I'll probably choose one lol

btw the dudes got the thickest Russian accent, is very brutally honest, soft and gruff, non nonsense and needs to adopt every small thing in sight or else he will die because this is how he's coping.

he was stuck in like an iceberg for like 200 years (there's a wholes Tory behind that) and then we he emerged (thats also a story) everyone he knew is kinda super dead because of the passage of time

*someone saying something stupid*

"Your voice, very ugly, please, do the shut up :] "

thats him in a nutshell^

also remember to do wrist and finger stretches for writers and artists

also I acquired a glass orb with glass art inside <3 o r b

also what's legend's irrational fear?

also I love legend being like, an actual good influence on wind in his own weird way

i want them to bond more, maybe do a whole stealing heist from some knights-

im not asking u t write it but I just wanted to share lol

i hope you've been doing well, u seem to be lol

also do u like wearing jewelry? and if so how often lol

Wow, that's a wall! (pos)

I'm glad you got to enjoy some nice food, time with friends, and dressing up! Also, it sounds like you're having a ton of fun creating recently! I am as well, but it's slow going as I'm working on a multi-chap that's very demanding about where and what is supposed to happen (I did this to myself but the results are fantastic!)

"Four Keys" sounds like it has great potential as a title! I like it! I also love the Russian accent. the character is giving slight Captain America vibes, but only for backstory, and I love the concept so much!

As for a irrational fear..... ma am I bad at those I rationalize anything so... maybe large empty spaces? Usually those are indicative of a boss fight in his mind, so just having one that isn't hiding some threat throws him way off. He's also insanely wary of any room with a tiled floor. Because >:)

I also love him and Wind! The fact that they're both on the younger side here but also both accustomed to being the person others look to gives great opportunities for them to bond and interact. Legend has a lot of experience to share but he's also not up on a pedestal like Time or Warriors is, so there's more opportunity for direct communication and less a need to impress. (I actually just finished writing something with them, as it happens!)

I'm honestly not the best baker in the world, or cook in general (I'm still building up my recipe book after leaving my parent's house) but I can share my mum's bread recipe! It's very good, for every day, or to make into rolls for the holidays and with nice meals!

Recipe makes 4 large loaves btw

Dissolve 2 packages of dried yeast into 4 cups of warm water.

In a separate bowl, mix 1/2 cup soft butter with 1/2 cup of honey (you can also add 1/4 cup of molasses for super dense rolls/loaves).

Once the honey-butter is combined, add the yeast water to the bowl

Scoop in 6 cups of whole wheat flour + 4 cups white flour.

Mix, knead, and set into greased bread-pans, or roll into balls on a cookie sheet.

Bake loaves for 35-40 min at 375 F, or rolls for 10-15 min at the same.

After you remove it from the oven, brush generously with butter before they cool, for extra flavor and to preserve moistness.

Hope this one makes you happy! It's great to use in sandwiches, serve with soup, or eat with jam, or alone!

#asks and answers #stardust my beloved

[elftwink]

lots of discussion on the dash as of late about trying to get people to switch from dnd to other systems (filled with ppl saying correct and true things. this is not a criticism), but relatively little recommending specific games or systems. well be the change you want to see in the world is what they say, so to anyone looking to branch out but not sure where to start, i would like to recommend my all time favourite ttrpg:

SPACE TRAIN SPACE HEIST

here's the little itch.io blurb (or the important part anyway): "A high-octane, single session, GM-less, Forged In The Dark, goof of a game for 3-5 players about space robbing a space train."

the number one reason i recommend this one is that it's very easy to learn no matter what system you're used to or if you have ever played tabletop at all. the rules are quick and very clear, it only uses one type of dice (a d6, the one basically everyone has at least in some board game or another). i have played this game with people who have only ever played dnd, and i have played it at a board game night with 0 ttrpg players. the game recommends 3-5 players but ive played up to seven and with some effort i think you could also play with only two.

another reason: it's gmless, and it has ZERO prep (besides maybe reading the rules, but i read them for the first time while learning to play with a group, so its not THAT important). to me this is one of the major sticking points of trying to make a dnd group: deciding who is the dm and then relying on that person to prepare a session. while i love dming, sometimes you just also want to be a player for a bit. well now we're all players!

(there is a facilitator role that's explained at the back of the rulebook, if you want, and if your players are a bit nervous to play totally gmless. but tbh, i will say i often SAY i will facilitate and then change nothing about how i would play besides reminding people of the rules and making sure everyone gets a chance to speak, both things that by the end of the game other players are usually doing of their own volition to help each other along. often, especially with otherwise experienced players, it's a little intimidating to go without a gm because of convention, not because they aren't capable of doing it. they always are!)

the mechanics and theme encourage you to be as ridiculous as possible (with playbooks like space wizard, where you can cast any spell but only once before you forget it forever, or egghead, where you're completely useless on purpose except for one specific and critically heist related expertise; train cars filled with escher staircases; and npcs who are extradimensional dragons or intergalactic popstars. or who run a junkyard. yeah on the train in space), and when i play i try to emphasize that the only win condition is that the players have fun and the story be interesting and funny. while i don't want to just Explain All the Rules (i want you to download the pdf from the game designers that does that), i will tell you about what i think is the best one:

when you make an action roll, you roll a number of d6s based on a few conditions. the first and most important of those conditions is "describe what you do in cinematic detail". to me this is actually what makes this game so fucking great. one of the parts i always find difficult to handle with games like dnd is preventing slog. you know, when youve been in combat for awhile and at each turn the player is like "Well. im gonna use my greatsword." then they roll and they go "oh cool i hit" (<- completely deadpan voice and expression) and you the dm says "ok you did x amount of damage" and they go cool. turn over. BORING. now there's lots you can do as the dm to prevent this, but they rely on you the dm trying to prevent this. or coming together as a table and trying to find ways to prevent it together.

in space train space heist, in order to even roll in the first place, you are required to get descriptive!!! you can't say "well i hit him with a fireball" (a thing you can absolutely do in space train space heist, btw, as long as you're playing a space wizard), you have to go more like "i move my hands in a circular motion and start chanting an incantation and from my palms comes a great BLAST of fire that shoots across the room and i want to explode the security robot into a gazillion pieces" now THATS cinematic detail!!! and all that extra detail has the added bonus of making it that much easier for other players to work in where their character is, what they're doing, and what the group needs to do next. it makes it so much easier to get into the roleplay, and imo is such a beautiful way to work it into the mechanics, and it's SO much easier to involve players who are otherwise really nervous or uncertain about roleplaying

obviously it's very different mechanically and thematically from dungeons and dragons. to me this is part of why i think dnd players should give it a try; often dnd players branch out only to very similar games, and while i do think you should chase your bliss (and i have nothing against games like say pathfinder. would love to play it someday myself lol), i think space train space heist can show you just how wide and varied ttrpgs actually can be. and although i myself still continue to play dnd 5e and probably will for the forseeable future, i think my experiences playing space train space heist have exponentially improved how i handle dnd games and how i think about making it fun for everyone.

the game is $5 USD. if you aren't able to afford that, no worries because there are currently around 69 thousand community copies available for you. and if you bought the ttrpgs for trans rights itch.io bundle awhile ago you already own it! pleaseeee give it a go all you need is 2 friends, a few six-sided dice, and to get a little silly with it

#good idea generator #if enough people were interested i would literally make a discord server for the express purpose of running it for yall tbh #if even one person tries this game bc of this post i have succeeded i believe so strongly once you play then you will Realize #every time i play this everyone says the exact same thing: omg wow that was so fun and i understood it so fast!! #dont take my word for it though: just look at literally any review on the itch page!!! please its sooo good i love space train space heist

[richardsphere]

Leverage Redemption Log: The Too Many Rembrants Job

Ok so guy is running around, scenes are flashing everywhere. He's apparantly not too great a person ("whole life i have prided myself on never taking a side"... ) Im gonna say he looks like a little grey man type. Seems like he's feeling rather conflicted about whatever situation he's stuck in. Like this is not his lifestyle. --- Three days earlier, Sophie wakes up to an empty bed. (god... It hits me a little but i cant imagine how this must've hit people who watched it originally and sat through years before it un-cancelled)

The revival seems intend to do the "sherlock-graphics text conversation" thing that has become popular in the intervening years (i dont love that style, but i understand the economy of it. Only 1 shot can now show text and reaction rather then having to cut from a shot of a phone held in someone's hands to a shot of the face. I dont love it but i understand the utility of it.)

I Notice during the toast that Hardison's actor is credited as a "special guest star" (makes sense, i understand his career really took off between the original show and the revival so that makes sense) As far as excuses to write Hardison out of the story (outside of cameo's) are concerned, saying "Leverage International has over a dozen teams, all of whom need supervision and the research has always been his thing even in the OG run" is a pretty good and natural flowing explanation for it.

First heist of the new run: Distracting a grieving widow. Time to steal ourselves some therapy. --- I dont like the Big Text Transition Cut-in. BOSTON MUSEUM OF ART printed in such a big font you cant see the museum is a waste of an establishing shot.

I assume this "Harry" is the same guy that i have been told is the reboots mythical "lawyer" role. (a role that feels out of place in the line-up. Even if I remember the Cheerleading episode and the way that Nate's job was mostly knowing which crimes he could trick the bad guys into getting arrested for it still feels weird.)

Phoenix Wright points out that our prospective mark (opioid crisis billionaire) cant actually remove the painting halfway through but that they could cancel future donations.

But it seems Sophie has made her decision, she follows the lawyer till he admits which painting it is. Then all-but openly admits she's stolen it before. (guess we needed to tip our new castmember off somehow. Still feels clunky, but i'll respect it as a "Sophie's been out of the game for 8 years" thing)

In shock: Parker is getting therapy something i've been strongly opinionated on since the 12 step job. Sure its a child psychologist rather then an adult psychologist but its good. (different things work for different people, and the list of people to whom she could honestly admit to her life without risking arrest is slim. Take what you can get Sophie.) ---

"this is not what it looks like" "cause it looks like you're stealing a Rembrandt, and you've got a 2 minute window, tops... Hurry on" real "Uncle Iroh correcting his muggers knife-stance" energy here. Just the look on his face when he says "you want me to keep..." like i dont know what the Opiodbaron has on him to make him do this but he's so out of his depth. "is that my wallet?" "sure hope so, it has all your creditcards in it" this guy just knows his life is ruined now, the look on his face that all sensibility and reason has left the universe as these 3 people just casually chat with him mid-burglary.

Parker the cartwheel was entirely unneccesary. This is not an acrobatics job this is a "walk there and put the thing on the camera" job. No need to show off.

"where did you learn to do that" "youtube" absolute Timmy Turner"I inherited the internet" level of answer right there.

"So right now they're busting down the firedoors and an enterprising employee is coming in through your escaperoute" (i mean it was pretty well thought out for a complete amateur... that sounds more insulting then i meant it but i meant it as a compliment) --- Further flashback to him first starting to work for MarkyMcMarkface. "im not an anybodies side, im a lawyer" Ah i can see im gonna get really sick of the "evil lawyers are scum of the earth" jokes really quickly with this sequel series arent I? "not my medication, im the one who convinced him to pay out, you just need to put down the shovel... so to speak". Those are definitly the words of a man balancing his desire to do good, with his ability to be in position to do anything at all. (i like when characters have that dynamic. Its much more interesting then "cackling villain or heroig paragon"). Im giving this line a full on 9.8/10 for establishing this guy.

"my name will live on in these museums forever" well that is a line that definitly cant get twisted into "this is the famous art-thief who stole all this art" after Leverage Inc-ternational is done with framing him he'll realise the downside of herostratic fame. --- "are we taking him as a client or wiping his ID and dumping him in Venezuela" "I'd like to vote no on that"

"wait, i think i've deduced you are thieves. And you were there not to steal the Rembrandt? And now that you know the owner is vermin you want to help me ruin him?" yeah that is the premise, good deductive skills, absolutely love how fish-out-of-water he is. (the hell is going on?) That is the voice of a man speedrunning his way through the 5 phases to acceptance that his world will never make sense again. --- I like how Sophie mentions a theft and parker just reviews the heist. Good way to show the runners still understand her character, she doesnt care about the painting she cares about the swagger of the theft itself.

"well, he's already an inside man" "and we can bonk him on the head later, if we have to", " thank you... that did not sound right". --- "a month is a long time when you're the one not doing the stabbing". Ok i think we're overplaying the stabbing. That happened one time in season 1 of the original series, i think this is a bit of flanderisation. (still a great line, if i knew anyone who did throwpillows i'd get it done on one) --- I like the acknowledgement that art forgery is intense. With the need to duplicate materials as well as colours. And i like that Elliot still is Mr. Know A Guy, --- Ok so they realise they cant sell it (cause they didnt think to fake a Rodin) and use it to double down his reputational insecurities "cant sell it to you, owner wont sell to someone who might lose it due to future lawsuits".

Mark is calling a security check on sophie and it cuts to break (as if anything he could find isnt hidden by Hardison)

--- Lovely story, irish mob, father operated in the place they stole the painting, looking to offset it. Passes inspection (especially when the inspector is on your side) definitly written for Nate not Elliot but it'll work. --- "do i even want to ask who this actually belongs to?.. Thought so." at least he's quick on the uptake.

So it is at this point in the episode that i felt a need to I google wether the actor is dead. (he isnt, he got accused of SA but was cleared by the court in the end. Still public opinion being fickle and him never having been a Pirates of the Caribean level famous actor. I understand that is definitely a career killer.)

Bunch of eulogies for Nathan, "at least he burned" 8.8/10 --- Elliot taking the role as an excuse to rough the guy up a little bit before "losing" the negotiations. (note: they've clearly learned some lessons. Elliot made sure to check what the mark plans to do with the painting. No "oh shit the fiddle-purchaser thinks he's the fiddle here." Thats what 5 christmass specials and an 8 year interlude's worth of experience gets you) --- Lucille is a foodtruck now, (well, its more "air force 1" rules. Any plane with a US president is airforce one, any foodtruck with a Hardison is Lucille) --- Looks like Mark has decided to just kill elliot and take the painting. Also looks like this scary woman (RIZ security) is gonna be a recurring antagonist. (she has too much "presence" to be a one-off)

Ah the old "let me explain the fight choreography, then work my way through the choreography and look like a WarProphet-eer" stint. (Guy Ritchie Holmes did it better, but it gets a passing grade) I do like the little compliment RIZ woman gave. Elliot Spencer: "The Rembrandt of Violence". --- "smart thing to do would be to run" Smart thing yeah, but you guys dont do the smart thing, you guys do the Cunning Genious Bastard thing. Parker is notably absent in this scene, or anything that has been happenign in this part of the plot. (she's off doing the plan this is a distraction/back up for)

Elliot coming in like a rhinocerous. Lawyerman Flashback. "If i cant give them anything, and I cant be forgiven, I need to take something from him."

Back-to-present Lawyerman walks into the museum (sirens blaring), puts gasoline/kerosine/alcohol/other chemical accelerant on the painting and burns it. (the alarm is already blaring, which means something already set it off. The paintins already been swapped for a fake, as have all the others probably. We're framing our Mark for an Insurance scam again cause we cant beat the classics, especially if we're doing a Revival Series Pilot) --- Lawyer walks up to Mark and gets gutpunched. Mark is on the phone talking his secire and secret Maltese bank details (Sophie or Hardison? Place your bets. I think its Sophie, usually this would be a Hardison thing but it would show her as being "back" as an actress) --- "I said one job... The job's not done". Good line (7.6/10), and i like the subversion of the expectation that just 1 heist would be enough to get her "back in the game". making it a two parter helps divy up the load a little on selling both the grieving process and Harry's joining with the crew.

#TW SA mention #tw johny depp mention #leverage #leverage redemption #leverage redemption season 1 #the too many rembrandts job

[calronhunt]

im so interested in whatevers going on with lionel and this sun god, would love to hear any rambles about that/how lionel is treated by her (that one drawing you posted of them a bit ago was what make me go 👀)

YEAAAAH I love to talk about lionel! For just a little bit of context, Lionel is a paladin part of the order of the Sun Wolf. Lionel's past is very shady, being a part of a gang practically since birth and having done a lot of Less Than Stellar things growing up, and was forced to join the order after being caught during a heist that went wrong. Lionel was only given the choice to join because he ratted out his fellow gangmates. If he didn't join he would've been killed with them so ya know. wasn't REALLY a choice.

Lionel is a bit of a special case in the Order simply bc they're pushing him as a "see we can FIX anyone!" kind of person. However, Lionel's background also means he's punished way harsher than others when he makes mistakes. He was a criminal after all! They gotta beat all of that evil stuff he learned out of him. Corporal punishment is super common for him (though at the start of the story, it hasn't happened for several months and he's been allowed to do normal paladin duties without an overseer). But that's why Lionel's got all the cuts in the piece/got scars on his back!

THE LAST BIT is that The Order is like. a 99% female order. Lionel transitioned after joining, and everyone was cool about it (nobody's misgendering him or anything, there are several t-girl paladins). HOWEVER, in the order, it is expected that that Sun God herself will sometimes give a paladin a child to carry. and for this current cycle, Lionel got picked to be the one to carry to like "prove that he's been fully rehabilitated." And lionel doesn't want that!!! He really really doesn't want that!! but once again, no isn't really an option, what the sun god says goes.

The Sun God tries to treat all her paladins fairly and justly, and she genuinely believes she's doing that to Lionel. She thinks that Lionel deserves the punishments and to have this final test of loyalty. She's like an abusive mother who tells you that she's doing this because she loves you, it's for your own good, you don't know any better, but i'm going to teach you the correct way to be. I know it hurts but you won't learn any other way. The pain will teach you to never do that again. And lionel, having been in the order for years now, thinks this is the way to be. That he's fully unfixable, he's a broken person and she's the only one who can offer him guidance.

It's not until he meets Raphael and they start becoming close that he realizes he wants some freedom, to be himself and to make mistakes. That he doesn't have to be good and pure all the time, and that it's okay when he's messy. That mistakes don't need to result in something painful. Raphael's carefree nature helps him realize that.

And The Sun God is not happy about that at all.

#ask #blood brings dawn #I'M LIKE. HEHEHEHE ABOUT THEM A LOT #Lionel and raphael are like -projects onto you projects onto you- #this is primarily all like act 1 of the story stuff #the sun god and lionel's relationship shifts in act 3 pretty substantially #it's not for the better let me say that though

[otrtbs]

spoilers for art heist, baby!

i've been reading art heist baby for the past 5 hours or so and regulus drowned? in his own blood??? i don't usually cry when i read books but this was heartbreaking. i've been crying for a while now.

i have a bunch of stuff due tomorrow but i can't focus now - just the whole thing has left me bereft. i love you for writing this and thank you for the ending. i don't know what to say. i think this is my favorite story and now i understand how everyone felt when they read atyd. i think i'll be rereading this often for the rest of my life and hopefully one day i'll have this as an actual physical book.

this is so sappy but i'm glad i got into fanfiction just so i could read this <33

he did drown,,, medically inaccurately,, in his own blood :(

i hope you got through your assignments!! it really means a lot that you took the time to come here and leave this nice comment!! this is so sweet of you, and im so glad you enjoyed reading my little fic! <33

i know you sent this in a while ago and i hope you're doing well these days!! thank you again for your kind words!!

#art heist baby! #asks #queue know what to do

[sssammich]

Question for fic writers; 7 and 23 👀

oh ho ho ho

let's find out

7: Any worldbuilding you’re particularly proud of?

i'd say i really liked when i wrote this maya/claudine fic about a tea maker and the woman she was in love with because it was a really good writing exercise for me where the tea maker's poverty is expressed in how i wrote the story itself. another is actually another maya/claudine fic where they kinda take the roles of Life and Death. (maya and claudine are characters from an anime called revue starlight)

for supercorp i've got a few wips that im excited about expanding on so maybe i'll reblog this meme and you can ask again next year LOL

23: What’s a trope, AU, or concept you’ve never written, but would like to?

ohhhh man i would love to write like a smart heist AU or a proper spy film type of thing but there's so much plot and thinking involved for it and so far away from my regular style that im like mm idk if it'll ever happen

i've been meaning to write like some apocalypse AU too and see where that goes, especially thinking about kara as like, like the last of her kind etc etc and to have that happen again on Earth feels like it would hurt a lot so i want it but, again, i am stumped by proper plot and thinking so u can see the patterns of my hesitation LOL

fic ask meme

#luthordamnvers #ask meme #thanks for these now i wish i could write them but alas