#so i literally will dedicate the rest of these two weeks drawing them

[berrincherri]

There is NOT enough f!sole & Cait fanart and I am clearly too obsessed with Cait to let that slide

#fallout #fallout 4 #cait #video games #lesbian #wlw #cait x nora #nora x cait #sole x cait #cait x sole survivor #sole survivor #sole survivor x cait #seriously she has me fuuucked up #and there is NOT A SINGLE FANART #so i literally will dedicate the rest of these two weeks drawing them #ugh cait #you and your weird irish accent #anyway oh yeah #preston #is also here #what a weirdo

[ctitan98official]

Yandere Larissa Weems x Y/N

TW/CW: Unhealthy relationships

Okay, this is fucking dark. Y/N is a new teacher at Nevermore and Larissa sets her sights on them. I don’t know where the idea came from, but I needed to write this lol. Let’s get into it!

You stood outside the gates of Nevermore, your heart pounding with nervous excitement. It was the first day of your new job as a teacher, and you couldn’t help but feel a flutter of anticipation.

The school was renowned for its prestigious faculty and challenging curriculum, making it the perfect place for you to learn a lot.

As you walked through the towering double doors, you were greeted by the sight of students milling about, their voices echoing in the vast halls. Navigating your way through the maze-like corridors, you finally arrived at Principal Larissa Weems’ office.

Larissa was a tall, elegant woman with a warm smile that instantly put you at ease. Her piercing blue eyes seemed to look right through you, and you couldn’t help but feel drawn to her magnetic presence. She welcomed you with open arms, offering words of encouragement and support for your new role.

Over the next few weeks, Larissa became your mentor and confidante. She showed you the ropes and introduced you to the other faculty members, including Marylin Thornhill, the botany teacher.

Marylin was an enigmatic woman, with a passion for teaching and a quiet grace that set her apart from the rest. You were definitely developing a crush on her. You two even went out for coffee a few times. You were smitten.

But, as you adjusted to your new life at Nevermore, you started noticing odd things. Larissa’s demeanor towards Marylin was noticeably different from anyone else you ever saw her interact with. She was cold and distant, barely acknowledging her presence when they crossed paths. At first, you brushed it off as nothing more than a personality clash. But as time went on, Larissa’s resentment towards Marylin became more apparent.

And… Marylin herself started acting weird around you too. Almost as if she was avoiding you. She seemed… Scared by something. You tried to confront her about it a few times, but she always made excuses and hurried away.

One morning, you literally had to corner her to get her to even talk to you. “Marylin, what’s going on? Did I do something-”

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m running late, I’ve got to go,” She said urgently and left.

What the hell?

During faculty meetings or staff gatherings, Larissa would always find a way to subtly draw your attention away from Marylin. She would compliment your ideas, give you praise, and make you feel like the most important person in the room. It was hard not to be flattered by her charm.

One day, Larissa invited you to her office to discuss something. As you sat across from her, she leaned in close, her voice dripping with honeyed sweetness. “Y/N, I want you to know that I admire your dedication and talent. You mean the world to me, and I want to see you succeed.”

Her words made your heart swell with affection, and you found yourself drawn to her more than ever. Maybe… The weird flutter in your heart whenever you were around Larissa meant you were falling for her? She was always so kind to you. And… After all of that shit with Marylin, you needed someone to hold onto. That must be what this feeling was. Right?

But as weeks turned into months, Larissa’s manipulations escalated. She would call you at odd hours, demanding your presence and attention. She would shower you with gifts and compliments, all the while cutting you off from the rest of the faculty. You found yourself becoming isolated from the friends and colleagues you had started to form bonds with.

Wait… Maybe Larissa’s behavior… Wasn’t all that innocent. Maybe those frequent stares you could see Larissa giving Marylin were meant to be… Hostile? Why hadn’t you picked up on this before? You were just so… Consumed by Larissa. It’s as if everything in your life had become about her. You didn’t even realize it.

Larissa’s presence began to suffocate you, and you felt as if you were drowning in her obsession. You tried to resist her control, to push her away, but the more you resisted, the tighter her grip became. You had become a puppet in her twisted game, blindly dancing to her tune.

One night, Larissa called you and invited you to her house, claiming she needed your help with something.

Hell, no. You were not going to her house, alone, in the middle of the night. You politely declined and told her you would help her in the morning, but… The sudden ice that crept into her voice sent a shiver down your spine.

“Oh, what a shame,” She said. “I hope you don’t live to regret this decision, darling,” She all but growled.

What? Was she… Threatening you?

“Why, Marylin is right here with me. Would you like to say hello?” Larissa asked.

You quirked your brow in confusion. Why was Marylin there? You heard shuffling on the other end of the line.

“Y-Y/N. You’ve… Got to come over. I… Need help. Please,” You heard Marylin say. She sounded barely lucid.

Marylin…

You began to panic. “W-what the fuck is going on?! Marylin?! Are you okay?!” You asked. You’d never been more scared. With as much time as you had spent with Larissa, you learned that she was a woman of resolve and she makes things happen. You weren’t really sure of all that she was capable of, but you didn’t want to take any chances. You clenched your fist, trying not to lose your cool, before you spoke. “Umm, okay. I’m coming over. Just, please don’t-”

“That is wonderful, my sweet. Don’t keep me waiting…” Larissa purred. “I know exactly how long it takes for you to get here from your apartment. Don’t think of doing something foolish.”

Suddenly the line went dead. Fuck.

You began to drive over to the principal’s house, but you decided to call Sheriff Galpin too. “Sheriff! I need help! T-There’s… This is gonna sound fucking crazy, but it’s Marylin. I think Larissa has her and she’s hurt her. She’s at Larissa’s house and she sounded… Just, please. I need help!” You pleaded. “Larissa said that I needed to come over. I should go, right? I don’t want to piss her off.”

“Okay, it’s going to be alright, Y/N. Yes, go ahead and get over there,” The sheriff advised. “I’m sending two deputies your way. Just… Try to keep Larissa calm before they get there if you can,” He said before hanging up.

Try to keep her calm? Yeah… This was a stupid idea.

You groaned anxiously and felt tears stinging at your eyes. Marylin… She had to be okay. You don’t know what you would do if…

This was like a shitty horror movie.

Before you could spiral completely, though, you examined the facts. Yes, Larissa was rather tall, but that didn’t mean that she could automatically take you in a fight. You actually helped coach the fencing team at Nevermore and also worked out regularly. You were strong and agile. You were certain that it wouldn’t take much to overpower her if she did end up trying to hurt you.

Yeah, Y/N. Just try to keep holding onto that hope…

You finally got to Larissa’s house and turned off the engine. You gripped the steering wheel tightly before forcing yourself out of the car. But, the moment you knocked on her door, you knew you had made a mistake.

What awaited you inside would haunt you for the rest of your life.

Note: Mwahahaha! Cliffhanger. I hope you liked this. It turned out to be more of a thriller, which I haven’t really written before, so this was fun!

Masterlist

#larissa weems #larissa weems x reader #larissa weems x y/n #larissa weems x you #wednesday netflix #wednesday addams #principal weems #larissa x reader #larissa x y/n #netflix wednesday #marilyn thornhill #marilyn thornhill x reader #yandere imagines #tw yandere

[smellydano]

i’m literally down on my knees begging just anything romantic sfw with jay literally anything soft and sweet and sappy please and thank you i love your work🙏🙏

AHH yes i feel like i write more nsft content for jay because of that Fucking Suit but he is the sweetest man ever i need to write more ,, i hope this lives up to your expectations !! :3

good morning || jay (okja)

jay (okja) x gn!reader fluff

warnings: none! just fluff and cringe writing

synopsis: jay makes you breakfast in bed

word count: 530

you eyes fluttered open to the sound of someone in the kitchen, you knew it was jay. you glance over to jay’s side of the bed, empty, as it has been for the past couple weeks.

jay has been all over the place with the ALF, usually his trips aren’t too long but this trip was two missions back to back. you were always very supportive of jay and his dedicated involvement with the group, but you will admit it’s been hard on you.

you grabbed his pillow, wrapping your arms around it. it smelled of him, which made you smile. you slowly start to drift back to sleep until you hear the bedroom door close. you turn over to see jay walking in with a tray filled with pancakes, hash browns and orange juice. you slowly sat yourself up, watching him shut the door with his sock covered foot.

“good morning, love.” he smiled, placing the tray down in front of you on your lap. you ran your fingers through your hair, giving your head an itch. he pressed a quick kiss on your forehead, rubbing your shoulder softly.

“i made you breakfast in bed.” you smiled as he walked over to his side of the bed, the mattress sinking with his body weight. the tray had a dainty little flower you were growing outside in a little mason jar as a vase. you instantly felt the prick of tears in your eyes. you sniffled quietly, not wanting to draw his attention, but it was too late.

“is everything okay, darling?” he looked over at you with a concerned look on his face, gently placing his hand on your shoulder.

“yes, honey. it’s-it’s just very sweet. i just missed you so much, jay.” you stuck out your bottom lip in a pout, leaning over to him. he placed his hand on the side of your head, pulling your head over for a kiss on the forehead.

you wiped away the few stray tears that rolled down your face, a smile growing on your face as he ruffled your hair. he grabbed the remote from his bedside table and turned on something to play in background. you picked up the fork he set on the tray and cut off a piece of the pancakes he made, bringing the fork over to him.

“want some?” you asked, fork circling in an airplane motion.

“i already had some, but i’ll take a bite.” he smiled and opened his mouth, you placed the fork in as he pulled the piece off. you giggled as you cut off another piece, tasting them for yourself

“you’re such a good cook, babe.”

“thank you, darling. you know, it was nice not sleeping alone. makes me realize just how much i love you when we’re apart.”

you blushed, he still made you blush and gave you butterflies after all these years. “i know, it sucks. but you’re doing good work, jay. it makes me realize how much i love you!” you chuckled, resting your hand on his thigh.

he flashed a smile, kissing you gently then laid back against the headboard, resuming your relaxing morning in bed.

——

AHHH i love jay so much

ty for reading!! likes/reblogs are always appreciated :3 🖤🍄🧚🏻

#jay okja x reader #jay okja #okja #paul dano x reader #paul dano #smellydanowrites

[luty-month]

hello hello hellooooo

have you ever thought, "wow, i love ludmila and naty a normal amount. i would not be indifferent to an entire month being dedicated to them in silly (and not) little prompts so i could showcase all the normal time i spend thinking about them"?

well my friend, look no further than this beautiful little blog of mine: introducing,

⭐️luty month⭐️

what is luty month?

ok so, ill let you guess who came up with this idea. one, two, th- yes its me its @iristhedeadflower. who's surprised? surely not me. it came to me in a blurry vision one night, let me set the scene, i was thinking about the sillies as one does. then suddenly i was like, wait, i could put all this time spent thinking about the sillies to good use. why not share the silly propaganda? (i dont remember when i got the idea ok. im sure it went this way más o menos)

after that, the idea corroded my brain for months until eventually i decided to do something about it and here we are!

when is luty month?

we are taking over february 2023! there are two main reasons why i chose this month: 1, luty literally translates to february in polish, and 2, its my birthday month and im selfish. :)

how does luty month work?

later this week, i will post the list of prompts for the month: it consists of 28 prompts, one per day. all prompts are one word each, so your imagination can run as free as you can let it! obviously, it's not required for people who join to do something for every day, just do as much as you want and most importantly, have fun!

(i want to take the time to thank the looters over at discord for helping me come up with the prompts and supporting the project in general, i might have come up with the concept but this is mine just as much as it is yours <3)

how can i participate?

any way you want, my dear friend! drawings, fics, edits, headcanons, anything you can think of, as long as it's somehow connected to the prompt of the day, the floor is yours! all work tagged #luty month (or tagging this blog in the post) will be reblogged here :)

this month is truly about sharing our love for the little girls, so please don't stress about deadlines or not doing enough - even just supporting the content that comes out during the month is enough!

i myself will not be able to post something every day, but i will post little sketches for every prompt to start the day, and will write drabbles and fics that may not come out in time, but they will come out, rest assured.

and that is all from me, stay tuned for more information and the prompt list dropping soon, and if you have any questions, don't be afraid to send an ask my way and I'll answer as soon as i can! other than that, start your engines, and get ready for luty month :)

#violetta #luty #luty month #ludmila ferro #naty vidal #this is soooo exciting #its been MONTHS in the making #get scared :) #I MEAN GET EXCITED!!! #pheww nice save

[jonathankatwhatever]

I keep fucking up shit in my regular life because I’m so focused on this work, on Identification Theory.

I saw this AMT that each hat pair is a Hexagon, and so the drawing of the gs with 4 hats is a 12 and thus higher counts. And each of the Hexagons forms with I//I, meaning here that if you pick say I(x), that I(y) is the Halving, is the midpoint of the other two choices around any bT. So, we have Triangular, with grid squares erupting out of each 1Segment side (by treating them as 1-0Segments that expand into squares). That last part, which I stupidily put in parentheses, is the simple representation of the processes. Can only say that because of all the rest of the work. And a gs is now also both Irreducibles in Hexagons. That is a big unification.

I have to get a Covid shot. This is simultaneously the best and worst week of my life. I see everything coming together absolutely perfectly, but I’m stuck here. Yes, it’s a song. I’m aware.

How does this End? Jane tells me it’s going well. But I’m extremely afraid and stressed. I remember when I thought the end was at hand, meaning for me, not the work, back in March of 20121. I was down to day-by-day almost dying each day. I mean actually dying. Then I had belief that I was, that we have been, correct. Now I know the work is correct.

The compression of the observer through Attachment Theory, through the foldover, which I saw enacted when I, as Joana, was explaining how I found myself drawn to George, taht I would fold identity over because I was trying to see how close 2 disjoint objects could get. And thus what the fold is. And how comparison can work, which leads to cooperative existence in depth.

It appears more and more than essentially every single realization I’ve had about this work has been correct, and that they have become clearly correct as the work has progressed. I used to say I wanted to see you unify your selves. This to me has been that process. You can call it love. You can call it what you want, which as I was typing I realized is also a song, but to me it’s the discovery and rediscovery of myself in you and you in me.

The new - really fairly old- drawing with hats explains a lot. A single bT is in 3 Hexagons, and each gs is one of those in each Irreducible. That’s about as straightforward as it gets. A single gs connects to 4 Hexagons, so it is the literal rendition of IC of Hexagons. And that then puts the bip pole at the center of the gs, which links across the forms with Injection Theory. So, if I can put this in an order: we build the gs through attachments of 1-0Segments, which is Attachment Theory, and the resulting gs has a bip injection pole, which is Injection Theory. And these together with the SBE concepts form Identificaition Theory. Isn’t that nice?

So, at this point, I am oscillating now mostly about mission fears. With this work at this stage, we can accomplish many great things. When I think about that, I feel fatalistic: if there is some hidden horrible plot twist, which would appear to the world as normal life continuing, then I’ve been misled for my entire life to do this work. And my dedication has been worth it, and all the sacrifice has been worth it, because this work has come true. But now it has to come true in a different way, one I can’t control, one I don’t want to control because I don’t want to conrol you. I want to be part of you for eternity. The only one I’ve ever loved with my whole being.

——-

Standing in line. As I was hustling over, I heard feeling 22 in my head, and thought, no way but the 22nd is exactly 57 days to 24k from 4/4/57. The IdT of 10-11 is dense. It types as (1+(SBE3)+1), which is the primal attachment over the dimensions that link layers. So 22 connects layer to layer, which is my dream.

Doing the opposite of Kubler-Ross?

[blzzrdstryr]

Chrysalis

Yandere!Albedo x gn!reader

Wordcount:2115

CW:Yandere themes

Working for Albedo isn’t that bad - the payment is good, the knowledge he provides is even better - a chance to delve into exclusive alchemical research with a widely acknowledged genius is a far more valuable award than any amount of mora or jewels could ever be. Said prodigy isn’t an awful person to work with either - he’s polite and well mannered, careful not to offend anyone even if his words can be cold and cutting sometimes. Most of the time Albedo is a pleasant company to be around, if one would turn a blind eye to his quirks.

For instance, he has a weird and frankly unnerving habit of staring at you - his teal eyes track your littlest movements as you set up an alchemical apparatus and prepare needed solutions. At first you thought he was overseeing you, checking if you had made any mistake as a fledgling alchemist, yet this hypothesis was quickly disproved when you caught him gazing off working hours. You never voiced your complaints - you wanted to keep your job and study, and maybe he is too socially blind to see how his behavior could be received by others.

Today would also be a great example of an alchemist's lack of tact - he requested you accompany him everywhere for the last few weeks, taking you from the cold heights of Dragonspine to sunny and bustling streets of Mondstadt. You two are sitting in the corner of his laboratory designed for rest and food and share a meal: two portions of his favorite fish, despite being nothing more than the employer and employee or teacher and student.

Albedo doesn’t seem to get or mind what kind of rumours he causes with this seemingly blatant favouritism before you, no he looks as calm as usual as he plunges into the dish with fork and knife.

“[First]”, he says, after the first bite: “Have the aches stopped bothering you?”, a hint of concern and something else. Two or three weeks ago you developed a strange soreness in the different parts of your body - wrists, neck, heart, legs - it would appear suddenly, burning and throbbing and making you gasp, leaving you tired and nauseous afterwards. No one could find the source of the problem, not even Albedo, yet after some time these far from pleasant sensations got subdued, easier to bear and endure.

His hand reaches for your left wrist, thumb caressing the skin, and he pulls it closer to his face, eyes examining the sore spot. You don’t protest, stunned by his sudden action.

“Hm, that’s”, he mumbles, more to himself than you: “that’s good”, he concludes, letting go of your limb.

“What’s good? Did something change?” you inquire, instantly forgetting to take offense at his grabbing.

“You could say that”, Albedo ambiguously says and returns to his fish. You ask the alchemist what he meant, but all you get are even vaguer answers and long silence in the end, as he finishes his meal and nudges you to start your own sunshine sprat.

In the end your questions remain unacknowledged, as Albedo leaves displaying you to accompany him. Surprisingly he heads for the gardens instead of the library, his step light and fast. “Master Albedo” you start, seeing that alchemist is in his creative mood again: “shouldn’t you bring an easel or sketchbook with you?”

“No, [First], I don’t intend to draw, not now. This walk is for me to get some inspiration”, Albedo quickly replies, still walking ahead: “In this time of year the environment changes so rapidly, it provides a mind with a lot of good ideas. You should come with me too, alchemy is a science of change, creation and destruction and nature is better at these three aspects than any of us”. He adds, seemingly sensing the next question you would ask.

He walks near the bushes, teal eyes focused on the blooming fragrant flowers, before he squats, pushing some of the wigs back.

“[First]”, he turns his head in your direction: “you should come and see”. You comply, curious what has caught Albedo’s attention, squatting near him and looking at one of the inner branches usually hidden by others.

It’s an ordinary dark cocoon. You almost turn your head again, before the slightest of movements catches your attention - it’s an insect trying to break out. Chrysalis cracks and deforms as a fledgling butterfly makes way past it’s confines. One second and it stretches its wings, revealing a vibrant blue coloration, the next it leaves it’s former cell entirely, elegantly soaring into the air, it’s azure wings lazily flapping, as it makes its way to the other bush.

“Fascinating”, Albedo breathes out, eyes still on the disappearing figure of the insect: “It transformed to such a great extent”.

You hear a hint of excitement in his voice - he wants to share his thoughts or knowledge then - and nod, prompting him to continue.

“Did you know that a larva needs to literally dissolve itself to reach the next stage of its life? After caterpillar finishes its cocoon, it produces enzymes that turn most of its tissue into a liquid matter and only after that does it rebuilds into an entirely new form”, he turns his gaze back to you, usually cold and thoughtful eyes now warm and dreamy: “Sometimes, I think humans are meant to metamorphose too”.

“How so?” you ask, tilting the head.

“Humans, despite all complexity and intelligence, are still fragile creatures. They’re prone to sickness and ailments and in the end old age ends those who managed to evade death before. Wouldn't it be better if one could go through metamorphosis, be reborn free from pain and hunger and constant threat of passing away? Those humans could live on forever and dedicate themselves to the higher cause without having to worry about dying and suffering".

You raise eyebrows, surprised by the sudden “outburst” - Albedo, despite his partially philosophical nature, has never shared his inner thoughts so freely, not to you at least. He, either out of embarrassment or deep contemplation, shifts his eyes somewhere behind you, and you turn back, following his eyes. He looks at the statue of Barbatos.

Tall and proud, it looks magnificent in the day’s sunlight, golden rays making it glow and shine with the fairness of the marble. Looking at this epitome of unchanging vision, you suddenly get an answer to Albedo’s thoughts and you voice it out the same second:

“Wouldn’t it negate the meaning of life then? Nature breeds diversity - the reason why we have so many flowers is because some kinds aren't adapted to particular conditions and so they change, producing entirely new types of plants. Eternal and undying beings, unconcerned with the earthly matters would have no need to reproduce and pass on its features to the next generation, depriving the world of thousand possible combinations. No new life would be created if the old one could be perfectly sustained".

"That's how you see it", Albedo replies, placing a now empty husk of the cocoon inside your palm - the testament of the nature’s miracle, the testament of one's ability to change: “I’ve witnessed many wonderful sights for today”, he adds, still looking at you, surrounded by flowers and flying butterflies, light breeze playing with your hair and sun illuminating your whole figure with a gentle golden glow.

You part with Albedo shortly after - he closes himself in the lab, before checking up on your sore spots again, quietly mumbling something to himself the whole time. You head for your house and open the alchemical textbook, studying it until late night. That place on the wrist slightly throbs at every movement.

Only when your eyelids fill up with lead and thoughts slow down from the general fatigue you allow yourself to head for the bed, falling asleep the second your head touches the pillow. You see phantasmagorical dreams - of you being a bulging and large larva, spending days simply eating green leaves, until a strange urge overcomes your entire being and you start to build something - a cocoon. Now, surrounded by pitch black darkness you feel a burning sensation - enzymes, enzymes that will dissolve your tissue. Pain quickly escalates and you want to scream and cry, but you can’t - you’re an insect you don’t have vocal glands or tear ducts to do so. Who could have known that butterflies suffer so much?

You writhe and squirm, caged by your liquifying body and hard chrysalis around you and you are in so much agony you want to die.

And then you wake up. All sweaty and distressed you grab at your wrist - it hurts so much, your entire body is on fire, it seems that you have another episode of that strange soreness. You quickly rise to your feet, snatching the painkillers from the nightstand and downing them with a gulp of water. As medicine begins it’s work you lay in the bed again, ready to fall asleep and forget the midnight pains, as you see something that makes your breath hitch and heartbeat fasten from fear.

A strange greyish white discoloration on your wrist in the same place that used to throb this evening. You touch it and it leaves a dry white imprint on your fingers, it also doesn’t have any strange smell.

You rise and quickly dress up, barely suppressed panic and anxiety dispelling the last remains of sleep. The walk towards the Favonius HQ’s is short, especially when you break into a sprint on the way. He is here, he is working into the night today. Quickly passing sleepy knights you climb on the second floor and almost run to one particular door, loudly knocking at it.

Just as you expected, there’s a sound of footsteps and soon a familiar voice asks: “Who is here?”.

“It’s me, master Albedo”, you say, feeling how the pain returns despite the painkillers taken: “you said to report if something changes, with my aches. It changed”.

The words you say and desperation accompanying them prompts alchemist to open the door, as he gestures you to come in, and shut the door as you do so:

“Strip”, he says, mind back to the analytical mode, you comply, feeling ashamed with every second Albedo continues to observe you: “Wait, there’s something on your neck”.

A cool touch to your skin, a short yelp, another burst of pain. You fall on your knees, blinded and deafened by sheer agony. Alchemist produces a distressed noise, walking up to your collapsed figure and carrying you to the nearby table.

He pushes alchemical apparatus away, turning the table into a makeshift bed, and gently lowers you down. “[First]”, his hand card through your hair, while the other nudges a mug with some brew to your lips: “There’s nothing to worry about, your metamorphosis progresses as it should be”.

“Metamorphosis.. What are you talking about?”, you ask, panic creeping into the question. Alchemist looks you straight into the eyes, an eerie smile blooming on his face as he hears it: "Isn’t it obvious? You're going to change and I will help you with that".

“Change?! Change into what?”

“Into a better version of human of course. Do you think I would let you get old or sick and die? You’re too dear to me to do that, you should live and experience a life free from human limitations”, for the first time in your life you’re terrified of him. Albedo always seemed so knowledgeable and calm to you, like a wise wizard from the childhood fairytales, yet now he looks mad and devoid of any humanity:“You shouldn’t worry about these stains, they will disappear once your transformation is complete. Those are just chalk you see, a side effect of your tissues changing over the weeks”.

“When did.. When did you start it?”, you croak out, sensing the agony returning and growing again. It hurts so much I can barely think.

“Dragonspine. You were eating with me”.

You want to insult and accuse him, yet another wave of pain renders you speechless, short huffs and whimpers escaping you as tears start to stream down your face.

“I understand it can be very stressful to you, given how change of this scale is always carrying a great risk”, his voice adopts the same philosophical tone: “The purpose of cocoon is protection of the soon-to-be butterfly from the external harm and influence that could lead to other complications and we don’t want any of that”.

He cards his hand through your hair again, a mockery of a concern dyeing his next words: “You shouldn’t worry, I will be a good chrysalis to your metamorphosis”.

You black out from pain.

#yandere albedo x reader #Yandere Albedo #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #Yandere genshin #Yandere genshin impact x reader #Male yandere #Yandere x reader #Yandere #male yandere #my writing

[sinswithpleasure]

The Playgirl (ft. LOONA's Yves) [Part 2] [Female Reader]

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

Hello! I'm back with part 2!

Futa!Yves x Fem Reader, just in case ya forgot.

If you prefer, this is also on AO3 and AFF!

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

Yves shows up on time for tutoring, to your surprise.

"Hey baby."

"Don't 'baby' me."

"Sure. Let's start."

"Alright. Open up the textbook. We're starting from the basics. I've printed out some of the prerequisites for this topic, since what you did last time wasn't up to standard due to lack of practice of the basics. Now…"

Yves listens attentively. In fact, things go a bit too smoothly for the both of you. Yves doesn't make any cheeky quip, pull out any pet names, or flirt with anyone that passes by. The womanizing playgirl you knew disappears, and in its place is a focused, dedicated young woman. Sometimes, you even find yourself staring at her work on the problems in front of her. The change is… welcome, to say the least.

Your eyes roam Yves's styled hair, swiped back to expose her forehead, down to her beautiful large eyes, button nose, and full lips.

God, you're gay. Sure, you're literally admiring the beauty of the most insufferable bane of the universe, but you're just so fucking gay and hot people are hot, no matter how irritating they are, so...

When your eyes shift back up, you're met with Yves's smirk.

"See something you like, babe?"

Fuck.

"N-no."

"Liar."

"Fuck off." You rush to change the subject. "How're you doing?"

"I've been done for a while. You would know if you weren't spending the time looking at me."

You refuse to dignify her with a response, checking through the solved problems. With your coaching, Yves manages to get two more questions correct as compared to last time, but she still makes some simple mistakes.

"Okay, here's the issue. In question two…"

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

Yves continues to show up for every tutoring session. Somehow, a week passes by, and it is now Friday.

"Good afternoon, babygirl."

"Don't 'babygirl' me. How many times do I have to say it?"

"Mm, whatever. How're you doing?"

"Why do you care?"

Yves pulls out the chair next to you, leaning back on it, resting her legs on the table. She turns to you, grinning.

"Of course I'd care! You're my tutor, and if you don't feel good, you won't be able to teach me properly. If I don't get taught, I won't learn, then I'll fail, and I don't get to win. You know that I always win."

"I'm not sleeping with you."

"That's what you say, but not what you mean."

"Fuck you."

"That's what you'll be doing in five months' time."

"No I won't. Bring out the Calc textbook. We're going through Chapter 4 today."

"Alright, babygirl."

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

The change in Yves becomes apparent when she somehow is present earlier than you on Monday morning.

"Yves?"

"Oh, hey babe."

You sigh at the pet name, but having heard her call you that for quite some time now, it doesn't grind your gears as much anymore.

"Don't 'babe' me."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever."

Yves returns her attention to the papers she is working on, and the familiar math problems catch your eye.

"Calc?"

"Yeah. I promised I'll be the best student. Here I am."

"We'll see about that."

"You're looking at it right now." Yves rises from her chair, and in a flash, she has her arm around your waist, her face inches from yours. "I'm going to win, babygirl."

"G-Get off me!" Your face reddens instantly at the close proximity of your lips to hers. Memories of the chaste kiss Yves planted take front and center stage, and you can't help but look away from Yves.

"You're so pretty."

Yves has her gaze locked on your lips, then to your eyes. She is so close, too close, even. Heat flashes all over your body—every touch Yves leaves on you seems to burn.

"I mean it. You're gorgeous."

"T-Thank you."

The smug smirk never leaves Yves's face. She releases you from her smoldering gaze and grip, but she leaves you with a rapidly beating heart and a large distraction for the day to come.

When class begins, Yves tries to take the time to listen to the professor. However, she is soon back to her old ways, flicking paper balls at classmates and being on her phone more than she listens.

"Yves."

"Yeah, baby?" She meets your gaze, her tongue darting out to moisten her dry lips. Her hands carry on working on moulding another tiny paper ball.

"You're not listening."

"I am!"

"What was the last thing the prof said?"

"Um…"

You roll your eyes.

"Best student, my ass."

"I made that promise to you, not to him."

"You won't learn if you don't listen to him either. How're you going to be the best if you can't even do that?"

"Oh, so that's how it is?"

"That's right." You think hard about the words you want to say next, but maybe… maybe it is worth the risk. After all, Yves is still the bane of your existence, but she could be less of that if she keeps up her effort in trying to learn.

"You don't get to fuck me if you're not the best."

You watch as Yves freezes. She stares at you, her jaw hanging, before she steels her gaze to your eyes, staring deep into your soul.

"So this is how you wanna play, babygirl?"

"Yeah." You can feel your bravado slowly disappearing.

"Fine. I'll listen. I'll play by your rules."

Yves leans to your ear, her breath sending shivers down your spine. Her deep whisper makes you shudder.

"You will be mine at the end of the year, baby. I promise you: I'll ace my exams, and you'll love me for it."

Perhaps provoking your seatmate wasn't the best idea. Now you have to deal with the deep flush on your face and neck, as well as the heat between your legs.

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

A month passes.

Every week, the same things go by—tutoring, classes, more tutoring, more classes. However, what changes is how close you and Yves get with each other. By no means were the both of you friends, but she isn't as much of a thorn in your side anymore.

[yves💘 sent a message:]

Baby

I need a bit more help with the math from the last chapter.

Can I see you this weekend?

Saturday, 10am, Seoul U entrance?

[You sent a message:]

Sure.

I'll see you.

[yves💘 sent a message:]

Good.

Dress nicely, baby. It's a date.

[You sent a message:]

Fuck off.

You groan when Yves manages to charm you through text. Outfit ideas are already flowing through your head, and you sink your face into the comfort of your palms. Why do you even care about looking pretty for Yves?⁶

Well… that genuine grin she flashed after a muffled gasp of surprise when you wore a dress once in the past month was gorgeous on her. That was why.

You remember Yves actually having the slightest hint of a blush when looking at you, and she seemed to be a little less flirty that day, opting to take short glances at you when she thought you weren't watching. This newfound attention was… welcome. You couldn't deny feeling shy having Yves check you out. After all, you were just the nerd girl in class, and having this attention from a hot girl you could consider a crush not as much of a pain in your ass felt so good.

-----

Saturday arrives, and here you are, waiting outside Seoul University.

You choose to keep things simple: just a simple button-down dress with daisies printed on the fabric. Your hair is tied up in a cute bun. The pink backpack you carry completes the look, with a nice pair of flats.

The sun isn't too bright, and a cool breeze keeps you comfortable while waiting. You can't help but get nervous, though you know it is irrational to feel so. After all, this is just another study session. However, Yves's text to you earlier in the week keeps flashing across your eyes.

'Dress nicely, baby. It's a date.'

You know this is just a study session. However, a part of you dimly wishes that it isn't, before you hurriedly bash those thoughts with a hammer and then set them on fire.

The revving of a motorbike catches your attention before it zooms down the road. You can see the bike move across the lanes, then slowing to a stop in front of you. The rider, clad in all black leather, complete with jacket and boots, seems to freeze in front of you, before slowly drawing the helmet off their head.

"Hey, babygirl."

Yves grins at you, her eyes sweeping over your body. Her gaze lands on your legs, moving up to your torso, your chest, and then to your eyes and hair.

The next words she mutters are meant to be kept to herself, but you hear her anyway.

"Fuck, you're gorgeous."

Your heart takes off, pounding against your chest. You try to hide the flush on your face by staring at the ground, but you field a gaze to Yves, who looks a bit like a deer caught in headlights. She looks so handsome, so cool, and downright fucking hot at the same time.

Hmm… What would it feel like being pinned under her again?

The intrusive thought you have gets stamped out instantly, but the effect lingers—you can't help but check Yves out, feeling a rush of heat deep within your loins.

Her agreement with you was starting to look more and more appealing. Maybe you do have to teach her well.

"Get on."

"What?"

"Let's go. I gotta park the bike, and the cafe isn't close by. Get on."

Yves hands you a spare black helmet, and you hesitantly take it.

"Don't kill me."

"I won't." She grins. "I like you too much to think about doing that."

Your breath catches in your throat. It's not uncharacteristic of her to say things like that so easily, but maybe… just maybe… you want her to mean it.

You get onto the bike as Yves holds it steady. You don't know where to put your hands, but Yves grabs your arms, pulling them to wrap around her waist.

"Hold on tight, babygirl."

"Okay." You can't believe what's happening right now.

"I'm gonna go."

The engine revs.

-----

Yves trails behind you as both of you make your way to the cafe. Yves is quiet along the way, unlike her usual flirting if she caught you staring at her. When you glance back to her, you see her eyes dart away from you, staring at the floor as she swipes her hair back.

Weird.

"Hey, are you okay?"

"Oh, yeah. Never been better, baby." Her reply is unconvincing, especially with a forced grin, but you don't want to really push her for a reply.

"Er… Okay. Sure."

Both of you make your way into the cafe, stopping by the counter to grab the menu. When you sit down at a table, Yves sits across you, her eyes locked onto you as you peruse your options.

"You're staring a lot today, Yves."

"Oh, um, er…" She looks away, her voice soft. This is very unlike her.

"Are you really okay?"

"Yeah, baby. I'm feelin' great, ready to learn, and get good." She leans back, resting her hands on the armrests of her chair.

Oh.

She has a crop top on.

Oh my fucking God, she has abs.

You short circuit.

Two columns of defined muscle greet your eyes, as if to mock you. It wasn't like she was someone you didn't find hot. Now, you have to find out that she also has abs?!

Your mouth dries instantly, and you grab your bottle, taking a swig. The cool liquid quenches your physical thirst, but your mental thirst…

"Don't look too much, babygirl. You might get hypnotized."

Yves tilts your chin up with a finger, moving to lean close to your face.

"My eyes are up here."

Holy fucking shit, she's so fucking hot.

You wonder how you didn't notice them when she had that fishnet and crop top combo. Maybe her pants covered them, maybe you were blinded in your dislike for her. Whatever, you've seen them now. No reason to stop… respectfully staring, especially when you can.

"Look at me."

You meet Yves's smoldering gaze.

"Keep your eyes up here, babygirl." Her warm breath against your lips makes you yearn to lean in and close the gap. "I don't want them anywhere else when they're so beautiful."

You whimper involuntarily, and Yves chuckles.

"You're so fucking pretty, you know that?"

The shame that burns when you squeak and break your gaze to hide in the pretense of reading the menu is something you don't want to admit that you feel coursing through your veins, but it's there. When you lower the menu, Yves has her chin in her palm, her head tilted to the left, a satisfied grin on her features.

"I mean it, baby. You look really pretty today."

"T-Thank you."

"You're welcome. Let's order, I'm starving."

"Okay."

"Oh." Yves leans towards you, lowering the menu to stare into your eyes once more. "You'll get to see what you want to see when I ace the exams. Be patient, babe."

You groan.

-----

That night, you toss and turn on the bed incessantly. Every time you close your eyes, you can feel hot breath across your lips, smell the scent emanating off Yves, and sense her burning gaze on you. Yves's handsome features are burnt deep into your head, and just the thought of her sends your heart pounding and temperature rising.

You think of her abs under her clothes, the defined muscle jumping out to your eyes. She already looks so good, so delicious, and yet, things only go up from here.

The rush of heat between your legs doesn't help things.

You turn again, ignoring your basest desires. Bedtime it is.

#kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #loona yves #ha sooyoung #loona fanfiction #loona fanfic #female reader insert #female reader

[gogglor]

Cap-Ironman RecWeek: What-If Wednesday

Time for another installment of @cap-ironman rec week! Today’s theme: AU’s.

I know AU’s in different settings are half the reason most people read fanfics, but they’re not really my thing on the whole. AU’s where different choices are made, or different events transpire? Absolutely. Coffee shops? Not my cup of... you know.

So, here’s my AU recommendations for mostly “turn left” scenarios. This time with an under-the-cut break so I don’t take over everyone’s timelines (sorry about that last post). Also with some summaries truncated for length.

Alone Like This

Author: GotTheSilver

Word Count: 7,452

Summary: Steve, post waking up, runs away from SHIELD, and Tony's the one who tracks him down.

Why You Should Read It:

First off, GotTheSilver’s been consistently and regularly putting out solid Stony since 2012 and not only are they not stopping, they’re only getting better. This writer doesn’t get nearly the fanfare I’d expect in Stony circles for someone who puts out this much good stuff, and here’s hoping this post can be a part of changing that.

While I am always a sucker for enemies-to-friends-to-lovers, there’s something to be said for stories where Steve and Tony hit it off right away. And watching these two very different people look at each other and see the same sense of being lost, then finding each other again is... excuse me, there’s something in my eye, ignore me.

Second Chance Lives

Author: raeldaza

Word Count: 43,872

Summary: Tony's gonna die of palladium poisoning anyway, why not join a pointless expedition to recover Captain America’s body? And after, well, why not dedicate his last few months to making sure an American hero settles into his new life? What else is he going to do, get drunk at parties?

Why You Should Read It:

This writer doesn’t write a lot for the MCU but when they do, dang.

“Tony is the one helping Steve acclimate to the new century before Avengers 2012″ is a whole genre of Stony fanfics that scratch an itch I didn’t even know I had before I started reading fanfiction, and this is one of the best ones out there. It’s got it all - Steve poorly coping with his PTSD, Tony poorly coping with his immanent mortality, some breathtakingly poor communication between the two most emotionally stunted men in the MCU, and a cat named Roomba. What’s not to love?

Should You Choose to Accept It

Author: elwenyere (look, you’re gonna be seeing a lot of them this week, sorry-not-sorry)

Word Count: 27,106

Summary: After a terrorist attack and a field operation gone wrong, the Avengers realize that Nick Fury's secrets are just the start of a much bigger mystery. Steve and Tony try to keep some things from each other as well, but that can't possibly affect the mission — right? Mission Fic + Getting Together (or Mission: Getting Together) that mashes up elements from Iron Man 3, CA: Winter Soldier, Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. season one, and Mission Impossible 3.

Why You Should Read It:

You can see my post yesterday for singing El’s praises, but what I really liked about this fic was how how damn creative it is. The CAWS/IM3/AOS mashup is everything I wished the actual MCU gave us and more, with well-developed characters and an exciting story to put them in. And because it’s El, you know the banter’s gonna be on point, the way the characters care for each other is gonna be emotionally constipated but touching, and the pacing’s gonna be exciting enough to draw you in and keep you there. Also, this fic doesn’t have nearly enough kudos so please go read it and fix that or I’m gonna have to try to hack AO3 and that’ll just be embarrassing for all parties involved.

What Happens In Vegas

Author: sabremc

Word Count: 161,951

Summary: “What the hell, Tony?” Rhodey demanded brusquely.  Tony winced and drew the phone away from his ear.  “You’ve got cops and Feds all over the hotel.  I’m watching you perp walk out of the police station on repeat on CNN.  They’re saying you tried to bribe Stern?  Fox News has you selling weapons on the black market, and God that picture they’re using is the one from Bali in ’09.   You look like shit.  They wheeled Stern out and put him in an ambulance, by the way.  Got some paparazzi swearing you decked the guy.  Now they’ve got ‘copters following it like he’s OJ.”

“Yeah, don’t worry, Sourpatch, I’ve got it covered.   Uh, though, I should probably tell you that, purely in the interests of national security and the greater good, I kind of had to fake marry that stripper-gram  you sent.  Thanks for that, by the way,” Tony added quickly.

Why You Should Read It:

If you’re deep enough into Stony to see posts like this on Tumblr, you probably know sabre’s what we in the business call a “big name author.” They’re prolific, they’re popular, and most importantly, they write words good (technical term). Seriously, sabre just keeps cranking out high quality stuff over and over again, raising the bar for the rest of us like a jerk (not really. I’m not bitter they write stuff so good I wish I’d thought of it first. Not at all.)

I never read stripper!Steve or stripper!Tony as a rule, but this came so widely recommended that I broke that rule and boy am I glad that I did. This is also the only fic on this list that’s a true-AU, with Steve being a non-powered vet from Afghanistan who left his army career to help Bucky and is stripping in Vegas to raise money for a prosthetic arm. He’s booked to do a private show for Tony, shenanigans ensue, and now they’re fake-married. This fic’s got some top-of-the-line banter and character development, but I particularly love it for its rich setting. Sabre paints a Vegas not just with strip clubs and blackjack tables, but KISS-themed minigolf, romantic dinners on the Eiffel tower, gaudy hotel lobbies, and making out on giant ferris wheels. It’s such a richly developed playground for the characters to play on, and through it, Steve manages to find a life for himself he’d given up on, and Tony finds multiple ways to show his kindness and depth of feeling for Steve. I know the word count’s long for this one but trust me, you’ve gotta read this fic.

Wait & Sea

Author: Lenalena

Word Count: 53,244

Summary: In which Tony and Steve get sent on an undercover mission aboard a cruise ship to make contact with Hydra. In this AU the military has kept the discovery and defrosting of Captain America a secret, so Steve and Tony have never met before. Yet they are to pose as newlyweds....

Why You Should Read It:

This one’s old and popular enough to be considered one of the “classic” Stony fics, and for good reason. Lenalena doesn’t write too often and not as much as they used to, but the fics they have up there are an absolute delight.

This is another fic that I skipped a bunch of times for being outside my comfort zone, but when I finally read it I saw why everyone’s so wild about it. In this story, Steve’s defrosted a bit earlier and not revealed as Captain America. He and Tony are sent undercover to sniff out Hydra shenanigans on a cruise and, because it’s fanfiction, they’ve got to pretend to be a married couple while onboard. There’s tons to love about this fic, but the things that bring me back to reading it over and over is first, Tony’s kindness and the way he’s attuned to Steve’s feelings, which... God, just inject “kind, observant Tony” straight into my veins, please and thank you. This is also another really rich setting for a story, and Lena knows how to fold the the hokeyness of the cruise into the seriousness of the mission and the depth of feelings Steve and Tony are finding for each other in a really beautiful, layered way. It’s funny, it’s heartfelt, it’s steamy, it’s gripping... why are you still reading this here? Go check it out for yourself!

Ashes to Ashes

Author: dirigibleplumbing

Word Count: 51,582

Summary: After regrouping following some surprise time travel, the world's heroes and sorcerers come up with a plan to protect the Mind and Time Stones by taking them into space in opposite directions. The result involves a lot more time loops than Steve would like, but at least they're getting a second chance to stop Thanos. (As well as a third, and a fourth...) And if Steve takes the opportunity to try to reconcile with Tony, too—well, they have the time, and Steve's going to make the most of it.

Why You Should Read It:

Dirigibleplumbing’s another name in Stony fanfics that does not get nearly as much fanfare as they deserve. They’re consistently a really creative voice in Stony fanfics and I always look forward to their stories showing me something new. Go read all their fics, I need more people to geek out with me over them.

I tend to limit myself on Steve-and-Tony-mend-things-after-Civil-War fics not because they’re not good, but because they’re so heavy, and also the Sokovia Accords have five hundred layers of crap in them that no good fic could possibly hash out well. This one, though? When you add in the Infinity War/End Game fixit? Poetry. Art. Music to my ears. DP wrote a really engaging, twisty story where it’s hard to predict what’s coming next, in spite of it literally being a pseudo-Groundhog day scenario. The characterizations are great, the story is engaging, and the feelings are big and sad and eventually happy. Go read it, you’ll love it.

I have tons of other recs for this category but this seems like a good place to stop for today. Tomorrow’s Alternative Media Thursday, and I’ve got some real gems I’ve been saving for that day (aaaaand possibly a self-rec or two ;)

#capimrecweek #tony stark #Steve Rogers #stony #fanfiction #MCU #ficrec

[soramei]

Intentional - Part 4

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader (she/her)

Summary: Landing your first real job at JYPE was something short of a miracle. You were prepared to face the new struggles of this elusive career whilst moving to a new country, however, nothing could have prepared you for him. Will stolen glances, secret touches, and hushed nights spent in the recording room ever be enough for the both of you?

Genre: idol!bang chan au, forbidden relationship, coworkers to eventual lovers, slow burn

Warnings: none right now, eventual smut

Word Count: 3.4k

Masterlist

A/N: DOUBLE UPLOAD! So i decided to split this part in two since i didn't want it to drag on for too long... next part will be uploaded tomorrow!

Taglist (reply to be tagged!): @planetdemon​ @hvunvely​ @fluffybitch0325​ @fashi0nablee @juststop88

You picked up the lanyard, looking between your burnt jacket in one hand and the vandalized piece of plastic in the other. The burnt polyester felt rough against your fingers. It was littered with black holes, almost to the point where it was unrecognizable as your jacket.

The lanyard, on the other hand, was almost untouched — save for the black marker that was sketched on the plastic. In the picture, on the part where your upper body was showing, there was only the black marker. The black blob stretched across your torso, the shape depicting a hoodie. Your eyes landed on the eyes in your picture. Thick lines drawn in the shape of an X covered both of them.

You quickly entered your apartment, hoping nobody saw you. You then stood completely still, listening to the silence, trying to find if anybody had broken into your home. After a minute, when it seemed as if you were the only person in there, you decided to lay the two vandalized items on your desk to further analyze them.

Your brain immediately tried to play this down by assuming that these were just kids who did this to your stuff, after all, it was something very immature. Children were the only people who had the time to play with fire and draw on other people’s pictures.

However, your gut told you something different. Why was your jacket along with your lanyard placed right in front of your apartment? Why was the marker outline specifically in the shape of a hoodie? Who could have known you were in the parking lot at that time of day?

Your mind drifted to one specific person. Manager Kim. He not only saw that you were in the parking lot that day with that jacket on, but also he knew your face from the lanyard. But why would he do something this childish? And how did he know where you lived?

The parking lot security guard had also been there when you wore that jacket, but he didn’t even look at you. And he would have no motive to do this sort of thing.

You rubbed your chin in thought, still not understanding everything. Was there somebody else that knew you were there?

Still feeling anxious, you began to prepare a cup of tea. You were reminded of Bang Chan. The tea. The smell of his hoodie.

His hoodie. The black hoodie.

Realization hit you like a truck as your eyes widened in disbelief. Was it maybe… Bang Chan?

Your heart was beating out of your chest. Hands shaking, you picked up your phone to call him, silently begging for the mysterious person to not be him.

He picked up.

“Hello? Y/n?”

You stayed silent.

“Is there something wrong?” He asked.

“I… I lost my jacket and it had my lanyard in it,” you tried to be careful with your words, not wanting to rouse suspicion from him, “have you seen it anywhere?”

“No,” you could almost see Bang Chan furrowing his eyebrows, “I’m still in the building though. I could look for it?”

“That’s alright,” you sighed in relief. He genuinely sounded confused, and plus, he was always so nice — there was no way he would ever do this kind of thing to you. You felt guilty for even suspecting him. “Thanks for offering though.”

“Y/n.”

“Hmm?”

“I know I said this before, but,” he paused, “if you need help with anything I’ll be there. I mean it.”

A chill ran down your spine at the seriousness of his voice. “I know. Thanks.”

You hung up, uneasy. The problem was unsolved, and to be honest, you were a little scared. There was somebody that knew who you were and where you lived. It was probably a good idea to change the passcode to your lock.

The kettle started to whistle. You turned off the flame of your stove and poured yourself a cup of tea, hoping that it would calm you down. Although it did a little, you still felt apprehensive about the whole thing. Your mood stayed the same the whole night, even when you tried to scroll through your phone or go to sleep.

The next day, you woke up with your mind cleared. No longer were you still feeling the aftershocks of the creepy jacket burner, and with your mood lifted more, you felt like you could think more objectively.

And that’s exactly what you did.

Throughout your whole week, this incident stuck in the back of your mind. Although your memory was getting fuzzier and fuzzier with the passing days, you still tried to work out who the culprit was in your free time.

Your mind was also filled with something else. Or was it someone else?

It seemed like, during the whole week, you couldn’t stop thinking of Bang Chan. You had to put part of the blame on him, though. Everytime he had a free moment in his busy schedule — granted it was rare that he did — he wanted to see you.

From secretly bringing you snacks from the vending machine to summoning you to his recording room in order to show his newest creation, he always seemed to stay busy even in his free time. You weren’t complaining, though. It was nice to have a friend who was so different from what you were used to.

You also spent a lot of time with Na-eun too. However, the time you spent with her felt different. Not in any good or bad way, just different. With her, it was mainly in the cafeteria, raving over the food after finally finding a free table. It was also trying to talk over everybody in the crowded streets as you two went shopping after work.

You liked it, sure. But with Bang Chan, every moment felt more intimate. Every smile, every laugh or brush of the hand. Was this what becoming friends felt like?

Other than these intrusive thoughts, the rest of your time was taken up by work. Although you were starting to get the hang of your tasks, there were still many mistakes made. Mistakes in which you had to profusely apologize to Manager Chen for, that you had to stay late nights to fix, mistakes which made you almost lose your mind. You hoped that Manager Chen could see your dedication to not only this project, but your job as a whole.

In the duration of this week, you managed to check in with every department involved with the project and partake in the finalization of the Mid-Autumn Festival content idea. It was decided that the group would do three activities: make lanterns, bake mooncakes, and share a fire while watching the moon. All while in the mountains.

You were surprised when Manager Chen asked you to come along to the shooting despite your inexperience. However, it wasn’t a chance you were going to pass up.

The week was hectic. So hectic, that you didn’t even realize it was almost over until Na-eun brought it up.

“Ugh, I wish I could just steal a whole tray of this food home,” you rolled your eyes. The two of you were raving once again at the cafeteria food. You wished you actually knew how to cook.

“Can you not cook?” She asked.

“I can fry an egg,” you said, stuffing more rice in your mouth.

“My six year old niece can do that,” she laughed. Her eyes widened. “What if I come over tonight and teach you? We’ll make fried rice, even you can’t screw that up.”

“Ha,” you said dryly. “I would, but I have literally nothing in my fridge.”

Na-eun gave you a deadpan look.

“How were you able to stay alive for the past couple weeks? At least you got skinner.” She sneered. “We’ll stop by the grocery store after work, I’ll teach you the bare minimum of living alone.”

And that was exactly what the two of you did. Right after you clocked out of work, you met up with Na-eun to go shopping. You decided to take out some cash to pay for your groceries, an action that Na-eun found hilarious. She was almost crying as she explained that a few groceries didn’t cost as much as you thought.

Your trip was successful. The two of you made it all the way back to your apartment and didn’t waste a second to get started. Halfway through setting things up, Na-eun got a text.

“Hey, is it okay if Yoojin comes? I guess she got jealous that I was here with you and she wasn’t.” She chuckled.

“Of course,” you eagerly nodded. “But, wouldn’t it be hard to get here with her injury?”

“What injury?”

“You know,” you continued, “her ankle.”

“She seemed fine to me.” Na-eun said as she started on the rice.

“Maybe she healed fast.” You shrugged.

“Maybe,” she shrugged back and returned to her task.

You texted Yoojin your address, and it wasn’t long before she was knocking at your door. You opened your door, and she immediately leaped at you for a hug.

“Oh, Y/n! I’m still so sorry for that day, I honestly feel horrible.” She pouted, her big eyes staring at you for a response.

“It’s really nothing, Yoojin.” You tried to sound casual. You let her in your apartment. “But, doesn’t your ankle hurt? There’s a lot of stairs coming up.”

“Oh, uhm, the doctor said it was only a minor injury.” She paused. “And I heal fast.”

“That’s good,” you smiled, patting her shoulder.

“But I still feel so bad, Y/n.” She whined. “Lemme make it up to you. I’ll set you up with this really hot guy I know. He’s a law student. You don’t have a boyfriend, do you?”

“Kim Yoojin!” Na-eun yelled.

“How about it? You’re free tomorrow, right?” Yoojin looked at you, ignoring Na-eun.

“I guess so,” you hesitantly agreed, “since it’s the weekend tomorrow.”

“Great!” Yoojin wrapped her arms around you, jumping up and down. “I’ll text you everything tonight.”

Yoojin kept up with her promise. After the three of you stuffed yourselves with good food, your two friends decided to leave before it got too dark. It was just a bit later when Yoojin’s text came through. You were to have dinner with this man called Kang Taehyun at an Italian restaurant tomorrow. Although you weren’t too thrilled with the idea of eating pasta, you figured you could withstand it for one night on the basis of trying something new.

You didn’t know how you felt about going on this date. Although you were excited to meet somebody new, something just felt off. Plus, you’ve never been on a blind date before. Who knows how good Yoojin’s judge of character was, or if this guy was like anything that Yoojin described.

You sighed, putting those thoughts aside. It was just a one time thing anyways, and who knows? Maybe this could lead to something. You looked over at Bang Chan’s hoodie. His warm hoodie that smelled so much like him. You should return it soon.

It was almost like he read your mind. As soon as you looked away, your phone rang with a call from Bang Chan.

“Hello?” You picked up.

“Hey, did you find your jacket?” He asked. You were surprised he still remembered.

“No… not yet.” You drifted off.

“Oh. We’ll keep looking for it, yeah? I’ll just buy you a new one if you can’t find it.”

You giggled. A couple seconds of silence passed.

“My shoot ends at six tomorrow. Wanna go to that barbecue place I was talking about?” He asked.

That’s right. Bang Chan couldn’t stop raving about that barbecue restaurant the whole week. He was really excited as his diet would end when he was done with his photoshoot, and he was apparently craving meat the whole time. All his praise made you very eager to see what the hype was all about.

You were about to eagerly accept, but then you remembered the date you had just planned not even a moment earlier. “Can we go another time? I… kinda have a blind date tomorrow.”

A few more seconds passed before you heard Bang Chan’s voice again.

“Blind date?”

“Yeah, my friend set it up. We’re going to this Italian place. Apparently he’s a really nice and handsome guy. He’s a law student, too.”

“Wha- law student? Y/n, are you sure you should be going on a blind date now? I mean, you just got here. You don’t know the city that well and you don’t even like pasta. What if he’s dangerous?” Bang Chan scoffed, his words got faster with each sentence.

“Chan, it’s okay. You don’t need to worry, I’ll be safe. Plus, I trust my friend.”

“You mean your friend you only just met?”

Silence.

“I only just met you as well.” You spat, slightly insulted that he would speak like that about Yoojin.

There was more silence that lingered.

“Whatever. Have fun on your date.” Bang Chan spat back, his harsh tone matching yours. Right after he said that, he hung up.

You looked angrily at your phone. Frowning, you threw your phone on your bed. Who was he to get angry at you for having a blind date? You recognized the dangers of meeting somebody new, but you trusted Yoojin. You were confident that Yoojin was honest about Taehyun.

A boyfriend would be nice too. Ever since your last relationship early in your university career, you haven’t had the best luck with men. It could have been because of how closed off your old friend group was. Your friends stayed consistent ever since you were young, and it was way too awkward to date a friend. You also found yourself way too closed off to go out and meet any new people.

Yes, tomorrow would be a good experience, you told yourself.

The next day, the hours leading up to your date felt like they had passed way too fast. The call with Bang Chan from last night still lingered on your tongue like sour candy, but you were determined to push past that in order to get ready on your date. After all, you didn’t want any frown lines to show.

You were excited to get ready. The amount of time it took to do both your hair and makeup was embarrassingly long, as you wanted everything to look just right for tonight. You didn’t want a hair to be out of place. You also took your sweet time to pick an outfit. Although the skirt you picked out probably wasn’t fit for the fall weather, you stuck with it anyways, choosing to layer a jacket over your outfit. One of your non-burnt jackets.

Double checking yourself in the mirror one last time, you locked the door and headed out. The streets were busy tonight. They were filled with people of all ages trying to relax from their tiring week.

Finding the restaurant wasn’t a hassle as the place was conveniently located at one of the busiest streets for weekend night-life. Dim yellow lights illuminated the tall glass windows just enough for you to see just the shadows of people enjoying their Saturday night. Green vines wrapped around the building, twirling and twisting their way around every crevice available. You tried not to fiddle with your thumbs as you nervously entered the lavish looking Italian restaurant.

“Hello, table for Kang Taehyun?” You asked the hostess. She showed you to a little table right beside a window. It was illuminated by a single candle, and already had two glasses of wine placed on it. And sitting at the table, hands crossed in front of him, was a hideously gorgeous man.

He looked like something out of a drama, really. With his tall nose and his sharp jaw, you struggled to convince yourself that this was a real man. His hands looked twice the size of yours.

“Hi, Y/n?” He asked. “I’m Kang Taehyun.”

He smiled and gestured for you to sit in the empty chair in front of him. You politely greeted him back and sat down. The two of you made some small talk before ordering. He made some suggestions on what to order, but you didn’t really care. You knew you wouldn’t like any of the pastas anyway. Plus, you swore to yourself you wouldn’t be drinking alcohol in front of strangers again.

“I’m surprised you agreed to this date.” You said, awkwardly laughing. “Isn’t a law student supposed to be really busy, especially around this time?”

“Well, I’m mainly doing this as a favour for Yoojin. She helped me with one of my classes.” He took a swig of his wine. “That girl is crazy smart. Or should I say crazy, but smart?”

“Oh?” You didn't want to admit that you were a bit disappointed he only agreed because of a favour. But he was being honest, so that was fair. What he said about Yoojin, though, took you by surprise.

“I’ve only heard rumors,” he tilted his head, “but some say that once in first year she went crazy over a guy. Started stalking him and everything. Apparently she even burned all his textbooks just because he started talking to another girl. They weren’t even dating.”

Your eyes widened at the allegations. There was no way any of that was true. You couldn’t imagine Yoojin — sweet, sweet Yoojin — to be capable of anything like that. There was no way her big puppy dog eyes and her fluffy hair could hurt a soul.

“Are you sure that’s what happened?” You asked.

“I mean, the guy was put into a mental hospital shortly after everything happened,” he shrugged, “so who knows? Maybe he made everything up in his head.”

“Yeah, maybe.” You nodded your head in agreement. Some of your hair fell on your pasta. You blushed, quickly trying to dab the sauce away using a napkin.

“You know Y/n,” Taehyun chuckled, “you’re cute. You’re not my type. I mean, I’ve only ever dated models before, but maybe it’s time to start settling down since I’ll be working at the firm soon.”

Thanks, I guess? You thought. You honestly didn’t know if that was a compliment or a jab, but either way you felt slightly insulted. You didn’t know how to reply to that, but it didn’t take long before Taehyun started again.

“I mean, look at my ex,” he said as he pulled up a picture of his ex-girlfriend on Instagram. She looked flawless in her bikini. “There’s no way I could actually marry somebody like that, right?”

If he says ‘I mean’ one more time… You thought to yourself. This date was turning south fast. This man was extremely handsome — almost god-like — but every word that left his mouth was poison infused arrogance. You didn’t know which was worse: listening to the man in front of you talk about his ex, or eating the pasta that was ordered by him.

You tried your best to stay polite with him for the rest of the evening. It was hard, though, as his cocky personality kept poking you down the whole time. It wasn’t until you finally separated that you had space to breathe. Great, you were left both hungry and annoyed.

Turning the lights on in your home, you sat at the kitchen table, still annoyed over your bad night. You took out your phone, wanting to scroll through the food delivery apps to find something to eat. Your thumbs began drifting.

No, stop. You silently begged yourself. Please, not tonight.

Your body didn’t seem to listen to your mind, however, as your thumb stayed hovering over Bang Chan’s contact. You pleaded to yourself to not press it, but your fingers seemed to have an agenda of their own. You pressed his contact. The phone call started.

One ring. Two rings.

“Hello, Y/n?”

You were shocked. He wasn’t supposed to pick up. Not after how poorly your last conversation went. You didn’t know what to say.

“Chan, how was the photoshoot?” You didn’t know what to say. You didn’t expect him to even pick up.

“It went great — feels good that it’s over, though.” He chuckled.

You wanted to tell him about your date: how arrogant Taehyun was, how fancy the restaurant was, how nasty the pasta was. You wanted to say all that, but tonight it seemed like your body just wouldn’t cooperate with your mind. And sure enough, you caught your mouth running before your mind. But this time, you couldn’t stop yourself.

“Chan,” you took a deep breath, “wanna come over?”

#stray kids #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids smut #bang chan smut #stray kids x reader #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fluff #bang chan scenarios #bang chan imagines #stray kids angst #bang chan angst #skz imagines #skz scenarios

[raimispiderman]

From the booklet which comes with the Spider-Man Trilogy Limited Edition Collection blu-ray!

This talks about the making of Spider-Man 2, here’s the bit about the first Spider-Man movie.

Click for a transcript:

THE EVOLUTION OF A SUPERHERO

“It was truly gratifying and even a bit overwhelming to witness how strongly moviegoers around the world reacted to Spider-Man,” said director Sam Raimi. “As a filmmaker, I always want people to really enjoy my movies, and on that level, Spider-Man exceeded my expectations.”

After the triumph of the first Spider-Man, Raimi knew he had a responsibility to follow it up with a story that justified the fans’ enthusiasm and their built-in expectations for the next adventure. “There’s great interest in this movie, following the success of the first one,” he acknowledged. “For the kids who come to see it, Spider-Man is their hero. So while the job of making this movie is to provide entertainment, it is also to create a story that shows them a moral character, someone who has to make tough choices and the right decisions in order to continue to be worthy of their admiration.”

The wealth of detailed stories and characters in the Spider-Man comic book series provided a mother lode from which to cull the plot for Spider-Man 2. “The Marvel artists and writers have done a great job through the decades – I know, because I’m a big fan myself – so there’s a tremendous amount of good material to draw upon,” noted Raimi. “Finding a storyline wasn’t that difficult. It was finding the right story, the one that made for a proper follow-up installment, and provided a logical progression for the audience and a logical growth for the character. For the, I relied on the terrific storytelling instincts of my very fine producers Laura Ziskin and Avi Arad. Together with the contributions of our great writers, we found a plot line with ideas that reverberated.”

With the storyline of the new adventure locked, Arad looked forward to the reunion of the Spider-Man filmmaking family, not the least of which was Tobey Maguire. “Tobey was so happy to be Spider-Man again and to be Peter Parker,” said Arad. “As an actor Tobey relished deepening the audience’s understanding of who Peter Parker is and who is becoming,” added Ziskin. “Peter’s a man who is transition, someone who’s struggling with the choices he is making.”

Maguire added, “The theme ‘with great power comes great responsibility’ is never lost on Peter. It’s difficult to be a young man and have to sacrifice as much as he has – presumably for the greater good – and to neglect his personal desires. The struggle continues here and it’s quite complicated, because Peter’s searching desperately for a way to achieve some balance in his life.”

 As Peter becomes more immersed in his dilemma, it creates a rift between him and the important people in his life. Though his love for MJ is stronger than ever, she has moved on with her life, pursuing an acting career, living in Manhattan and moving in new social circles. “In this film, Peter is off in his own world and not a reliable presence in MJ’s life,” explained Kirsten Dunst. “She still loves him a great deal, so it has become painful for her to be around him. Though they’ve both done a lot of growing up in the past two years, at the same time, they’ve drifted apart.”

Then, as if Peter’s life were not complicated enough, the situation moves from bad to worse – much worse. Enter Doc Ock.

Dr. Otto Octavius (Alfred Molina) is a brilliant scientist whose life work has been dedicated to experiments utilizing fusion as a new source of energy. Charming, vibrant and energetic, Dr. Octavius is introduced to Peter by Harry Osborn.

“This movie is the story of Peter’s life, which is out of balance, and Dr. Octavius who, for Peter, represents someone who has achieved that balance,” explained Raimi.

“Peter sees Octavius as somebody who has mastered both his gifts – in this case science, through which he can serve the good of mankind, while also maintaining a personal life, a loving relationship with his wife Rosie (Donna Murphy). This leads Peter to the conclusion that it’s possible to have both.” Dr. Octavius, with the support of his wife, has been working diligently in his home laboratory, trying to perfect his groundbreaking fusion theory. But when a demonstration of his creation goes horribly wrong, Dr. Octavius undergoes a terrible transformation – evolving into the powerful, multi-tentacled Doc Ock.

In Spider-Man 2, the talented and versatile Molina brings this powerful adversary to terrifying life. “He is a formidable enemy for Spider-Man,” said Arad. “He can climb walls faster and better than Spider-Man. In fact, there’s nothing Spider-Man can do that Ock cannot counteract.”

Doc Ock, one of the most popular villains of the Spider-Man comic book series, first appeared in “The Amazing Spider-Man #3,” which was published in 1963. He immediately became one of Spider-Man’s most formidable foes. According to comic lore, each of Ock’s limbs can move at speeds of up to 90 feet per second and strike with the force of a jackhammer. The extremely powerful tentacles enable him to lift a vehicle off the ground, pulverize bricks, claw through concrete walls and hover above his victims by rising into the air.

The filmmakers were eager to attract Molina for the central role. “We needed someone who brought a palpable reality to the part, and who was also sincere, had a great sense of humor and personal warmth,” said Raimi. “Alfred is a brilliant actor, and what he’s brought so effectively to the character of Doc Ock is the sense of him as a misunderstood man who has turned into a beast.”

Molina confessed, “I’ve always been a Marvel Comic fan because their characters are so interesting. They have problems. They’re very realistic.” From him, the mechanics behind the role of Doc Ock was a true education. “It was mind-boggling, the breadth and the imagination that went into how each of my character’s actions – flying across the room, crashing through a plate glass window, smashing a taxicab – was to be executed. It’s a unique way of filming that’s not like anything most of us get to do really. It’s a very particular way of working, and absolutely fascinating.”

J.K. Simmons also returns in Spider-Man 2 as Peter’s gruff boss at the Daily Bugle, J Jonah Jameson. “I fire Peter several times in this movie. Every time I see him, I fire him,” laughed Simmons. “And then I re-hire him because there’s always some pressing need for his services.”

Principal photography on Spider-Man 2 began on April 12, 2003, in New York City, where the production spent approximately three weeks shooting at various locations in Manhattan, Queens and Brooklyn, as well as on a Yonkers stage. From ground-level street shots to rooftops high above the city, the filmmakers efficiently utilized the time they spent in New York, giving them the opportunity to expand on the city’s unique environment, which had lent such vibrancy to the first Spider-Man.

“In the first film we established New York as a character in the movie. With Spider-Man 2, we went even further,” said production designer Neil Spisak. “We used a lot more of the city, including [photographic] plates of real buildings and real streets. Improvements in technology over the past three years enabled [visual effects designer] John Dykstra and I to marry existing buildings to scenery buildings to CG buildings even better than the first time around. It’s a much more complete experience.”

“We got more of a feeling of New York in this movie,” added Ziskin. “The movie is being shot in widescreen, which is appropriate because this is a different story, so it required a different approach.”

Production began on the campus of Columbia University in uptown Manhattan, which served as the university Peter Parker attends while he struggles with the responsibilities of his academic workload and his superhero duties. The rooftop of the Hotel Intercontinental, across from the Waldorf Astoria, was the location where Spider-Man contemplates his next move, while downtown, in the Wall Street area, another rooftop served as the “launch-pad” for the Spydercam camera, as it dipped and swooped over several blocks to replicate one of Spider-Man’s high-stakes aerial journeys through the city.

“We executed one of the longest wire shots the Spydercam has ever done,” said executive producer Joseph M. Maracciolo. “The Wall Street shot was around 2,400 feet. I’m an ex New Yorker, so I didn’t find the location shoot particularly daunting. But there are always difficulties when you’re doing wire work in New York, including the placement of the cranes on the buildings, the movement of the cast, crew and equipment, and of course, the crowds.”

“It was a challenge for us to move our production to the tops of buildings, but we couldn’t have been happier, because rooftops are Spider-Man’s world and that is his view of the city as he swings through it,” noted co-producer Grant Curtis. “It was breathtaking to see the world from 70 stories up – a world unto itself. You can’t fully really appreciate the beautiful architecture of New York’s skyscrapers from ground level. We showed some of that in the first film, but we wanted to show more of Spider-Man’s vertiginous world, and I think we really captured that with this film.”

In Spider-Man 2, Doc Ock sweeps Aunt May off her feet – literally – and takes her up several stories of a tall building. Rosemary Harris performed her stunts in a variety of harnesses, but only after she had managed to talk the filmmakers into letting her give her stunt double a rest. “I was a bit miffed at first, because my wonderful stunt double was going to do a lot of these harness maneuvers,” recalled Harris. “So I asked Sam and Laura, ‘Why not let me have a go at it?’ At first they were reluctant. But I begged them to at least let me try and they finally relented.”

Returning to Los Angeles, Spider-Man 2 shot on several stages on the Sony Pictures Studios lot in Culver City. Stage 15 was home to the Daily Bugle offices, as well as Peter’s tiny apartment and Dr. Octavius’ elaborate home laboratory. On Stage 29, the Osborn mansion, where Harry Osborn now lives, was recreated. Stage 27 housed MJ’s apartment set, a giant spider web, the interior of the Planetarium, the massive clock tower set as well as various other set pieces. A series of elevated trains were built on Stage 14, where Spider-Man and Doc Ock match wits.

One of the most elaborate sets for Spider-Man 2 was the pier set, designed by Spisak and built over the course of 15 weeks on Soundstage 30. “In contrast to Dr. Octavius’ lab, which was part of his apartment – a streamlined, organized and clean space – the pier is a maniacal, decaying, decrepit space,” explained Spisak. “It follows his character development in terms of his becoming a wilder, more dangerous and more formidable adversary for Spider-Man.”

The set, approximately 60 feet wide by 120 feet long and 40 feet tall, was constructed over a water tank and enhanced by several different components, including CG/plate work and miniatures.

“Before we built the set, we created an exact ¾ scale model of it, about 7 feet long and 4 feet wide, from drawings and blueprints. The model was extremely useful to the carpenters, who could take measurements to help them construct the full-sized pier, as well as for the miniatures team, so they could ascertain the dimensions, textures and materials that were used,” explained art director Tom Wilkins. “We shot plates down in San Pedro, where we panned from a real pier to the water. In post-production a New York background was added. We also built a miniature pier – interiors and exteriors – to complete the composition on the East River.” The art department team designed a 136 foot by 40 foot-high vinyl backing to represent Ock’s view of Manhattan through a large window at the end of the pier set. Wave machines were rigged in the water to create movement under the pier.

The production then moved to the Universal backlot for two weeks of shooting. Several city streets were transformed into a variety of New York neighborhoods including the exterior of the Lyric Theatre where MJ performances in an off-Broadway production of Oscar Wilde’s The Importance of Being Earnest. Ari’s Village Deli and Bakery became the site of an extremely complex scene involving a quiet conversation between Peter and MJ, which is interrupted by Peter’s “spider sense” – and a car careening through the plate glass window, followed by the arrival of Doc Ock.

“It was a great luxury to be able to build that set from every aspect, so that we could do everything we needed for the scene,” said Spisak. “The walls were made of french plate so that when the car smashed through it, the buildings around it were protected. We were able to design what we thought it should look like visually, then as tricks, gags and stunts became clearer, we were able to add them to the set before it was completely finished.”

“The deli was a full, 360 degree set, with a kitchen, deli counters, pastries, ceiling fans and chandeliers,” added art director Steve Saklad, who worked closely with Spisak. “We dressed the exterior streets so that you could look out of the window and see the intersection of Lafayette Street and Astor Place. It required an enormous amount of signage, billboards, street dressing, trees and traffic lights.”

For Raimi,  “The diner was a complex technical scene, because it brought together so many different departments, each relying on the other to fulfil their function  and communicate with each other so that each individual shot would work. We utilized mechanical effects and the stunt department had to take an automobile, spin it and flip it through the deli window, with the prop department providing the breakaway items. What made it even more complex was that we had to fly Doc Ock in, using something we dubbed the “walk rig.”

The “walk rig” was created for Doc Ock, because the character not only moves himself, but his tentacles move him around as well. When he walks on the tentacles, they support his weight, so a device was constructed to harness him and move him through space as if the tentacles were supporting him. The visual effects department also created “virtual” tentacles where practical ones weren’t feasible.

When he was in full costume, Molina’s tentacles weighed between 75 to 100 pounds, depending upon the action required for the scene. Each of the tentacles was fully articulated. In their expanded, 13-foot length, each upper tentacle consisted of approximately 76 individual pieces Each vertabra was handmade, hand molded, sanded, individually hand painted, chromed, then painted again and assembled by hand. The entire collection of Doc Ock tentacles, bases, heads and wrists, if laid end to end, would be taller than a 20-story building.

Academy Award winning costume designer James Acheson welcomed the opportunity to further explore and improve upon the already classic Spider-Man costume for Spider-Man 2. “Creating the Spider-Man suit for the first film was a real challenge since we were designing for a kind of Cirque du Soleil acrobat, someone who had a unbelievable kinetic spiraling ability,” he said. “So the suit had to be extremely flexible. For the new installment we made several improvements, though you’d have to be a real enthusiast to spot them. The colors are slightly different, and we have made subtle changes in terms of the movement inside the costume’s hood. We also adjusted the eyepieces of Spider-Man’s mask as well as certain aspects of the spider design on the front and the back of the suit.”

For Spider-Man 2’s Doc Ock, Acheson and Raimi spent close to a year collaborating with Spisak and visual effects designer John Dykstra and working with Edge FX in what began as a series of “group think” sessions, according to Raimi. “I needed John Dykstra’s input, because it was John who was going to have to handle Doc Ock’s movements in CG, so he had to be involved in designing the character, along with Jim, who was going to determine the look of the character,” recalled Raimi. “Part of the look determined the movement, and what the arms look like began to govern how it functioned. Neil was involved because Ock had to be a part of Neil’s world in the film. A great interdependence developed among the department heads in order to achieve the complex nature and physicality of the character,”

“The challenge with Doc Ock is to visually create a believable world, focusing on a man with four tentacles growing out of his back,” said Spisak. “Now, that can be a tough swallow. So, in creating Ock and his world, we needed to design and play it so that everything was credible. Ove the course of several months, it became clear what was physically possible for Ock and what would have to be achieved via CG. We conceptualized the look and only then did we deal with the physical limitations, rather than letting them stop us at the beginning.”

Added Dykstra: “It was a huge challenge to make Doc Ock come to life. His tentacles had to meet several criteria. They had to be appropriate with regard to the world Neil had created for Spider-Man and Ock. The components of the costume – the texture and the weight – had to bed something an actor could actually wear. Since using the tentacles wasn’t always practical, we had to create ‘virtual’ versions with Edge FX. In the end, integrating the tentacles into the story was a marriage of all those components and the collaboration of everyone involved.”

Spisak and his team designed and dressed more than 100 sets and locations for Spider-Man 2. “There are probably 10 enormous sets, while some are simply street corners. We covered eleven blocks in downtown Los Angeles and used many rooftops, streets and buildings in New Yorj City,” noted Spisak. “This is certainly the biggest film I’ve ever done.”

Spisak worked with director of photography Bill Pope on the color palette for the sets, and they pored over research and location pictures to inspire them for the story’s lighting requirements. “In the first film, Peter Parker was younger, less aware and just beginning to discover his new powers. That was reflected in the overall look of the movie,” said Spisak. “With this film, he has been Spider-Man for a while, so his frustration over how to deal with his life versus his duty is more complex. That’s reflected in the color palette and the tone of this film – it’s a little more sophisticated, more complicated and deeper, in terms of color and look.”

Among the tools Dykstra and his team utilized to achieve the shots presenting Spider-Man’s point-of-view, while he is soaring over the city, was Earl Wiggins’ Spydercam. During the New York portion of the shoot, the specialized camera was launched using a remote-controlled computer suspended on a cable from a Wall Street-area rooftop more than 30 stories in the air, which recorded what DSpider-Man saw as he swung over the city. The camera traveled along a line suspended over four blocks, dipping down into the street and over the tops of several blocks of vehicles and background art that had been placed for the sequence.

“We were dropping the camera and moving it up and down over the course of the shot to follow Spider-Man’s trajectory as he swings through the arch, releasing a web, and shooting a new web as he swings into the traffic below,” explained Dykstra.

“One of the successes of the first film was the empathy the audience had for the main character. He was very sympathetic,” Dykstra said, “This movie explores the character in greater depth, and in terms of the visual effects, we’re hoping to give audiences an event more intimate sense of what it’s like to be Spider-Man. In the first film, we get to fly with him. The idea here is to make the flying sequences poetic enough and evocative enough that you will get an even stronger sense of what it’s like to fly like Spider-Man.”

That approach is reinforced by Raimi, said Ziskin, “One of the really striking aspects about Sam is that he is the audience for this film. He makes the movie for the audience, identifies with the characters and is always aware of the rhythms and how each sequence will play – both to him and the other members of the audience. That makes him the perfect director for this kind of material. Also, he’s at a point in his directing career where he’s at the top of his game. He is brilliant technically, but also works extraordinarily well with the actors. Ultimately, his personal connection to Peter Parker and the other main characters is a great gift to the audience.”

“These are tough, scary times and during such periods we look to heroic stories to give us hope,” noted Raimi. “Maybe that has something to do with why the audience was so taken with Spider-Man when he first appeared two years ago. With Spider-Man 2, I truly hope that audiences will feel that they’re seeing a love story, that they’re participating in another episode of Peter Parker’s life and are seeing the challenges and conflicts he faces and how he overcomes them. I hope it will leave them feeling uplifted and exhilarated.”

#spider-man #spider-man 2 #sam raimi #avi arad #laura ziskin #tobey maguire #kirsten dunst #alfred molina #rosemary harris #jk simmons #interviews #behind the scenes #concept art #peter parker #aunt may parker #mary jane watson #doc ock #j jonah jameson #set design

[hlizr50]

Unveiled

Spoilers for From Blood and Ash

Poppy is unveiled to her new guard. Alternate POV.

Read on AO3

Everything had gone according to plan.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. But the end goal had been accomplished.

Swift booted footsteps echoed down the hall as Casteel and his “commander” made their way to the Duke’s office. Jansen had been explaining how the meeting would proceed; the Maiden would be escorted in, Duke Teerman would explain the need for a new guard with the Rite coming so soon, some prattle about why they chose Hawke Flynn to be that guard, the Maiden’s unveiling, and the fealty oath…

He would see her. Finally. No ridiculous veil, no mask. He would see the puzzle complete, how the eyes as green as spring, the full pink lips, the soft creamy skin all fit together. He was sure she would be beautiful, if what he had seen and touched and tasted were any indication. He had a goal in mind, to be sure. But she had intrigued him. He wanted to see and know more of her.

And he always got what he wanted.

“Hawke. Are you listening?”

He turned his amber gaze on Jansen. “I’m sorry?”

“Do you remember the oath?”

“Of course,” Casteel rolled his eyes before reciting. “’With my sword and my life, I vow to keep you safe Maiden, the Chosen. From this moment to the last moment, I am yours.’ Quite melodramatic if you ask me.”

“Keep your voice down,” the commander growled softly. “You are a dedicated guard of Solis swearing fealty to the future of the kingdom, in case you’ve forgotten.”

Casteel sneered. “I haven’t forgotten. And it would do you well to remember who is leading who, Commander.”

“Of course. My apologies.”

The prince knew that Commander Jansen was on a very precarious ledge. Being a Descenter in the heart of Masadonia was dangerous in the best of times. In a position of power, Jansen could pull a lot of strings and make a lot of things happen. But he had a hand in a number of plots, and if just one person was found out or turned against him… his own demise would be the least of the consequences. It could be catastrophic to the schemes they had put in motion years ago and set back the resurrection of Atlantia for literal decades.

The arrived before a heavy wooden door flanked by two of the Duke’s personal guard. Jansen greeted them by name and Casteel gave each a nod. Then they pulled the door out, opening up the room to the pair. This was the beginning of the end.

So it hadn’t gone completely to plan. The prince knew he needed to get close to the Maiden, so he could steal her away right from under the thumb of the Ascended. That had meant an opening needed to come available for one of her personal guards – it wouldn’t do to just work in the castle. Jericho had been tasked with taking out her guard during her almost-daily evening walks.

And he had done it.

But then he’d tried to go ahead and take the Maiden, and that had gotten him into trouble. He hadn’t known she would be armed and dangerous, and when you cross a wolven with pointy things it’s bound to get a little messy.

And Jericho wasn’t known for being calm, cool and collected on a good day.

The Maiden had gotten in a few good strikes, but she had received quite the blow as well. He’d seen the angry swelling around her mouth and jaw at Rylan’s funeral. He only imagined the bruising extended far under the veil, over her cheek and temple.

That was unacceptable.

He hadn’t enjoyed cutting off Jericho’s hand. But he would not allow Penellaphe to be hurt. And to teach a lesson you had to be firm. Unyielding. Deadly, if warranted, and definitely a bit unhinged. Just to keep everyone vigilant.

“Commander Jansen,” Dorian Teerman greeted them. “And you must be Flynn.”

“Your Grace.” Casteel bowed to the Duke, something it almost physically hurt him to do. But he was playing a part, and he could spend more time later creating enticing scenarios in which he destroyed Teerman in any number of ways. “I have summoned the Maiden. She and her guard should be here shortly.”

The Duke hadn’t bothered to introduce his wife, Duchess Jacinda Teerman. Casteel wondered if he even acknowledged her existence much of the time. He didn’t know much about Duke Teerman, but he seemed self-absorbed, self-righteous, and cruel, which was not much different than any of the Ascended he had encountered. Their unyielding refusal to “petition the Gods” so the Tulis family could keep their third son, when their first two had already died so young, was only further proof of their evil. Of course, those first two hadn’t been lost to a “blood disease”, but to the Ascended’s bloodlust – they had been fed upon until there was nothing left. And yet the Duke and Duchess would only insist on taking the third as well. Had it been one of them who had bled those poor children dry? It made his stomach twist to stand with Jansen, making small talk with the pale blonde Duchess as they waited for the meeting to start.

It wasn’t long before the door swung open again. And there she was.

This was how he had expected to meet the Maiden. Veiled, so he could only see her lips and chin. Hair pulled back so it was not visible beneath the veil, either. That was a shame. Her hair had unlocked something in him that night at the Red Pearl. It had been so unexpected. And then there was the ridiculous, frilly, white lace and pleats of a dress that covered everything from her neck to her wrists to her ankles. Surely a garment such as that was an affront to the Gods, sleeping though they were. This was the Maiden, pure and docile and silent. It was a stark contrast to the woman who had snuck into his room not so long ago. In a brothel, no less.

“Please. Close the door Vikter,” the Duke nodded as he sat behind the black painted desk. Casteel looked toward the older guard with the sandy blond hair as he pulled the doors closed. He knew more about Vikter than he should for his supposed station, but what was most important was his closeness with the Maiden. Penellaphe. He would need to be thorough in his dedication to win over the seasoned soldier.

“Thank you.” Teerman nodded. “Please, sit, Penellaphe.”

He watched the Maiden as she lowered herself to the bench. Gods he hated that dress. It was such a pity to hide the curves that he knew were underneath. It was an effort to keep himself from smirking. If only those in this chamber knew what she had been up to.

“I hope you’re feeling well, Penellaphe,” the Duchess spoke, a sickeningly sweet voice that felt practiced and false. The veiled Maiden nodded. “I’m relieved to hear that. I was worried that attending the city council so soon after your attack would be too much.” Casteel had watched the Maiden through the entirety of the meeting, trying to decipher anything from the full lips and curve of jaw that he and the rest of the world were allowed to see. Had he seen her skin flush while the Tulis family begged for their son’s life? What had she been thinking as her keepers were tearing yet another family apart?

“What happened in the garden is why we’re all here.” The Duke’s voice was cold. “With the death of… what was his name? The guard?” It made the prince angrier than it should, that this beast could not even be bothered to know the name of the man who had given his life to protect their precious Maiden.

“Rylan Kiel, your Grace,” Vikter answered.

“Ah yes, Ryan. With Ryan’s death you are down one guard… Again. Two guards lost in one year. I hope this isn’t becoming a habit.” What that a joke? Was he trying to imply that this girl could have stopped it? Casteel had to contain a sneer. The guards would continue to fall, if it meant getting his brother back and burning Solis to the ground. Nobody would stop him – not the Maiden, not the Teermans, not Vikter, not the Blood Queen herself. “Anyway, with the upcoming Rite, and as you draw closer to your Ascension, Vikter cannot be expected to be the only one keeping a close watch on you. We need to replace Ryan, which - as I’m sure you realize now - explains why Commander Jansen and guard Flynn are here. Guard Flynn will take Ryan’s place effective immediately.”

“I’m sure this is surprising, as he is new to our city and quite young for a member of the Royal Guard. There are several Rise guards in line to be promoted, and bringing on Hawke is no slight to them. But the Commander has assured us that Hawke is better suited to this task.”

And so the diatribe began about why he was just so good at what he did that he was the next natural choice. Fresh eyes to see new threats. An impeccable record on the Rise and experience beyond it, which would naturally come in handy if the Queen summoned the Maiden earlier than anticipated for her Ascension. It could happen. Teerman Castle had been compromised more than once in the last week. It wouldn’t be a surprise if Queen Ileana determined that they were no longer capable of keeping the Maiden safe here in Masadonia.

If only they knew.

If only they knew that his sense of hearing and smell made him aware of an enemy’s presence long before the enemy knew he was there. If only they knew how much he had to dumb himself down to appear to be a mortal man, counting seconds so he wouldn’t move too fast or relaxing his muscles so he wouldn’t seem too strong. If only they knew that their Commander was a Descenter himself and was planting Prince Casteel himself – the Dark One – into the role of Royal Guard Hawke Flynn. If only they knew that today they were delivering the Maiden into the hands of the most dangerous creature in their nightmares.

“The Descenters and the Dark One are not the only things to fear out there, as you know,” the Duchess had been speaking. Gods they were making it terribly difficult not to laugh. They were so ignorant. The pale blonde Ascended turned to Casteel now. “As a member of the Maiden’s personal royal guard, it is likely that a situation may occur where you will see her unveiled. It can be distracting seeing someone’s face for the first time, especially a Chosen, and that could interfere with your ability to protect her. That is why the Gods allow this breach.”

“Commander Jansen, if you will please step outside,” the Duke gestured toward the door and Jansen took his leave. Casteel stood alone, now, looking toward the veiled young woman now standing before him. Oh, had he been looking forward to this.

“You are about to bear witness to what only a select few have seen: an unveiled Maiden. Penellaphe, please reveal yourself.”

She was too still, and Casteel could tell that her breathing was shallow. What could she be thinking? He was sure that part of her was anxious that she’d be found out.

“Penellaphe. We do not have all day,” the Duke cut out and his wife tried to soothe him.

“Give her a moment, Dorian. You know why she hesitates. We have time.”

Why did she hesitate? Of course, she was concerned about being recognized, but he couldn’t imagine the Duchess would know that. And why did the Duke have that glib smile plastered on his face? Casteel returned his gaze to Penellaphe as her lady’s maid assisted with the chains on the headdress before it fell from her head.

Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes were dark as her gaze remained pinned on the Duke. He could only see the right side of her face as she glared at Teerman and from the corner of his eye he could see the Duke’s expression fall into icy stone. Then she took a breath and turned to face Casteel, lifting her chin slightly.

Gods. She was stunning.

Those lips, her jaw, those eyes as green as Atlantian spring. He was ready for those things, had seen them that night at the Red Pearl. He’d known even then that she was beautiful, and now with her stony gaze it was only confirmed. And then there were the scars. Two scars tracked down from her temple, one over her cheek and toward her nose and one down through her eyebrow. Where had those come from? Who or what had done that to her? He gazed at her, taking in every detail of her face before meeting her eyes. Those eyes. They were dark and stormy, betraying the lack of emotion on her face. It was as if she were steeling herself, although he didn’t know what against.

“She’s truly unique, isn’t she?” She flinched as the Duke spoke again. “Half of her face is a masterpiece, the other half a nightmare.”

That bastard. Her arms tremored slightly, and Casteel realized what she had been hardening herself to feel. He knew that this moment, where he could make Penellaphe feel small, was why the Duke had that slimy smile upon his face. Appearance was a fickle thing, and beauty and perfection were highly touted by the Ascended. The Maiden, chosen but scarred, was being raised and educated under the thumb of a man who likely took every opportunity he could to tell her what a shame it was that her face could never be pleasing to any of them. She was a pawn, a possession to them. But he saw her here, just as he had seen her in the Red Pearl. She was a person, with feelings and desires and insecurities. She was Penellaphe.

He made an oath to himself that he would only treat her as such.

“Both halves are as beautiful as the whole,” he stepped forward then, wishing he could see the Duke’s face when he said it. Her sharp intake of breath made him want to smile for her. She hadn’t been expecting that, and that was the nightmare – that she was not aware how truly lovely she was.

He gave a shallow bow and placed his hand on the hilt of his sword. “With my sword and with my life, I vow to keep you safe, Penellaphe. From this moment until the last moment I am yours.” Bowing to Duke Teerman had been torturous, but bowing before her was almost natural. So was swearing his fealty to her. The ease with which he did so kindled something inside of him. He had come here to play a part and set into motion the resurgence of Atlantia, and that was exactly what he was doing. But those emerald eyes, lush red lips, and two pink scars were already threatening to unravel him.

And he wasn’t so sure that he was going to fight it.

#fbaa #fbaa fanfic #from blood and ash #poppy balfour #hawke flynn #casteel da'neer #alternate pov #ao3 #fanfiction

[inventors-fair]

Subtle Touches: Two-Word Flavor Commentary

Maybe it’s because this prompt led to some vague cards. Maybe there could have been examples. But for some reason, this week felt a little off to me. I think next time we get together, I should get myself a more mechanically straightforward contest. When is ‘we?’ You and I. It’s been quite a week in general, honestly.

The one thing I need to keep in mind is that I can’t take it out on y’all. Let’s start with the highlights and the drawbacks, though.

Firstly, everyone was dedicated to the prompt, and there were no qualms there. I think with this kind of specificity, there wasn’t much wiggle room, and that was fitting for what we were working with. The bends still fulfilled exactly what was required of them, and that was nice! Secondly, the art direction and little sketches people did were phenomenal. I love seeing, hearing, and parsing the expressions of what you see on your cards, and getting from the imagination to understanding is fun for me. Thirdly, I’ll say this much: people are flexing their modern sensibilities here. Seriously, there’s some interesting design space that I greatly appreciated that we wouldn’t have seen two, three years ago. It’s cool!

The major nitpick for this contest, or at least where I feel there could have been improvement, is the general punchiness of the cards. There were some cards that were definitely enjoyable, but the question of whether they were tight enough for that two-word hold together at the end was negligible. This is, unfortunately, entirely subjective. I might have writing experience, but my opinion when outweighed by the crowd doesn’t mean a lot, and expressing the nuances of something that didn’t quite grip me sometimes feels difficult at times. The older I get, the more I want to say exactly what I mean, and the harder it is to find the right words to say it. I guess that’s all that flavor text and storywriting is, though.

Cards marked “(JUDGE PICK)” are cards that have one or more specific aspects I’d like to praise, and whose choices I would encourage people to emulate or observe for future contests.

Tally ho.

@abzanhero​ — Mother of Temperance

I think this is a great way to work with white’s lifegain/card draw. The modern era has pushed things a little bit, but hey, I’m a mono-white commander player sometimes, so I can’t complain too much. I feel that there’s a bit too much gain here, though, especially with some of the vigilant tribal. If you’re a deck that’s in the Soul Sisters route, then playing this with tokens will net you an amount of life that’s hard to pass through every turn. Elspeth and Ajani do this too as a plus, with Alert Heelbonder only doing vigilant creatures, and I think as a stall tactic it’s a little easy to exploit. In limited, this would be pretty miserable to play against if you have any defense whatsoever. Testing would prove, but it feels exploitably frustrating.

If you’ve noticed no flavor mentions, that’s because I don’t feel there’s much to talk about. It’s a quote without quotation marks, and I can’t justify its addition here. As a mood for art direction, it’s serviceable, but I don’t feel any sense that it elevates the card. As the focus of this contest, that’s a pretty rough strike. What sense can be conveyed by the text that isn’t already present? That’s where the strength of flavor lies. I don’t get that sense with this choice.

~

@bread-into-toast​ — Shatterskull Route (JUDGE PICK)

Just to get the good out of the way: your sketchy art skills are fantastic at conveying an above-average mood for your cards. The Zendikari goblin, the name, the ability of having landfall literally making the land fall, the fact that the creature is perhaps unintentionally making a pun (how smart are Zendikari goblins?)—all that is amazing and I could wax about it.

I won’t inflate my rage to an exaggerated degree, but I’ll just say that I’m more disappointed than usual at the templating nitpicks because the rest of this card is so good. “Shatterskull Route deals 4 damage to target creature or planeswalker.” is the way burn spells have been templated for two decades and I’m not sure why this keeps coming up in entries from time to time. It’s a minor frustration, sure. Does it stop the idea from functioning? No. But it feels like something that needs to be caught so early in drafts, and it’s glaringly obvious. I want to say again that everything in general with this card could have made it a winner. Getting that last polish is so important though. Honestly I’m a little mad that nobody mentioned it in the workshop. I would have, but, judging. Is that something that people would be okay with in the future, if a judge sees a templating error? Or should they stay their hands? Open for discussion.

~

@decayingbooks​ — Rafters Skulker

“Catar,” huh. Lol it’s fine, I got you, cathar just tried to correct to “catheter” when I made a spelling error just now. Niche words. Anyway. Mechanically this card’s super up my alley. I feel the MH vibe even without the set symbol, with kicker on Innistrad and all that, but a little bit of combat aggravation on a flash zombie? Yeah, checks out, pushed for uncommon, but this isn’t going to break any formats. I really like your art direction as well, with the uncomfortable addition of my mind’s eye giving some blur to the foreground and a light shining a fiery glow on the zombie’s gaping mouth. Cool cool!

And you know what, fine, you’re not the only one who went for this exact reference in your flavor text, as you can see from a later submission. Personally, I’m a little ech about having pop culture references as puns, but there’s plenty of that in Magic already. I think. I guess it’s the fact that it’s… Maybe it’s the fact that the flavor of the card would be more effective if the cathar was totally unaware of the zombie, and them saying that there’s a clever ghoul there takes away from the flash of this card with relies on the unawareness and surprise. Well, I guess the creature enters, and THEN your opponent (the cathar stand-in) sees the ghoul, but I don’t buy it entirely. I guess I just don’t feel the same way with the intended emotional response. Pop culture references intrinsically distract from emotional stakes present in the world. I’d rather this card have edged into the creepy factor and less into memetic resonance.

~

@deg99 — Aven Gagglefletcher (JUDGE PICK)

I am ashamed that I just got this now. Aven Gaggle__er better be a thing going forward. Okay, I’ll admit, this took me way too long and I should have gotten it before, but I’m going to blame it on my bad mood. Which is still my fault. Wow. For those of you who are reading this and don’t get it, which I estimate to be one person, it’s the enemy who is shouting the flavor text (I assume) and they’re telling their comrades to duck, because a duck (the Gagglefletcher) is shooting them with an arrow.

There are two small things I would change about this card. Firstly, I feel that it’s not immediately apparent that the enemy is the one saying the flavor text without the camera work specifying, and that’s just me being stupid, and hell, I might still not have that correct; I’m second-guessing everything at the moment. But maybe a perspective from the enemy lines could help. Where is this battlefield where a bird archer might come in handy and have an enemy who can articulate in something besides honks? Ooh, are they shooting angels… I’m getting sidetracks. Secondly, the ETB could read, “you may have ~ deal 3 damage to target” etc. to make it just a tiny bit clearer. Still, this is a monumentally more clever card than I initially gave it credit for.

~

@dimestoretajic​ — Indecisive Mage

I believe this card doesn’t mesh on a fundamental level. Conceptually, I understand the mood. The execution, unfortunately, feels like it reflects the design process. What I DO like is the flavor text itself, and it could have worked on a much simpler card. Another thing I like is what you did with the abilities, where you took a blueness-multi feel and applied that to each ability. How would I have improved this card? Simplification. UW makes a token once per turn as a sorcery. UB makes unblockable. UR loots. UG puts a counter, maybe on an untapped creature. There, none of this clutter.

And it is cluttered, exceptionally so. The issue isn’t that you succeeded in making an indecisive mage; the issue is that the card lacks cohesion, direction, and elegance. It succeeded in mood and concept. There is a time and a place to have mechanical mashups, like on the __ling cards or intentionally MH-like sets. Honestly I do get where the abilities are trying to come together but it feels like you’re trying to reinvent the Trading Post. Take a step back.

~

@fractured-infinity​ — Brawlstar (JUDGE PICK)

I understand where you’re going with the abilities. Consider: “XXG: Until end of turn, ~ gets +X/+X and gains “T: Brawlstar fights target creature you don’t control.” Activate only as a sorcery.” The only difference is that it would allow the fight to happen during combat if you do it in your precombat main phase, but is that so bad considering what the card would be doing already? The memory issues later in the turn might be a problem, but man, that wording is… Something about it feels clunky even though I know it’s perfectly worded—well, except for “it’s” needing to be in the place of “it is.” I get it, I don’t hate it, but I don’t really like it either, but I definitely like the card. Argh! This is a personal issue, I think. To do exactly what you want this card to do it has to stay like this, but to stay like this is has to look weird.

I think I need to just let it go and accept that this is a good rare bear. I do like the mood and the flavor text, simple as it is. The reliance on the direction to make the mood is necessary, because, well, the text isn’t exceptionally exciting, and it doesn’t need to be, and that’s all okay. The excitement comes from the fact that it’s not by itself—it adds to the image of a fighter who’s tough and ready and bloody, and that makes the flavor text go from a common phrase to a meaningful quote. That’s the third kind of text that makes for awesome submissions. The first is humor in puns/jokes, the second is sincere epic subversion, and the third is this: recontextualizing English tropes. Good on you. I think writing about these cards is definitely adding to the previously short list of judge picks.

~

@helloijustreadyourpost​ — Deepwater Looter

I love your art direction here. I can one-hundred-percent picture what’s going on in the image. I do wish I had better art skills to give life to these images, but alas, I am but a man who sometimes writes. Anyway. This card feels weird. It’s niche, but understandable. I don’t know know exactly what you used for templating but I can’t find anything better. I think I’m averse to it because you’re trying to do specific stuff to prevent powerful corner cases from happening when in fact I don’t feel you need to worry about it. Why can’t its equip abilities be activated? Because Deepwater Looter is selfish? I get it, but like, mechanically, there doesn’t seem to be a massive need for that to exist, and I think stealing the dagger is flavorfully expressed enough that you don’t have to worry about the niche details.

As for the flavor and the flavor text, well, like I said, the expression is there, and the text feels like it could be doing more work. I just don’t get a sense of something being added here. It’s kind of cute, I’ll give you that. I know there are plenty of ladies on Tumblr who would fall in love with the pirate mer-thief. I really do love the expression and effort you put in to ensuring that the art direction tells a story. The covertness of that is somewhat deflated by the text doing so little while feeling that it does so much. The over-specificity of the card combined with the unearned quippiness is frustrating to me. Conceptually and directionally, great.

~

@hiygamer​ — Goblin Gourmet

So, I like this card a lot, and it’s… Here’s the thing about the contest that’s been getting me. It’s not about you specifically, but it’s sort of about this card, and I haven’t said it much, but it applies to a few cards in general including some previous ones. Sometimes, the flavor text needs to be more than two words. Arguably, that’s most of the time. Here, I want to get a little more sense of what’s in the food—yes, I am asking—or what the status of the kitchen is, or how this damage differs from something like Arms Dealer who also has a pretty vague methodology of hurting things. With only two words, the two words need to add a twist that the rest of the card doesn’t add already, or that creates a reaction that’s above and beyond what’s already presented.

The response to “Don’t ask” is “I wasn’t going to” because, yeah, we know it’s gross, and actually, we already know what’s going into the food because it’s being sacrificed. So what does it actually add? Unfortunately, not much. It’s humorous, but in a… I don’t want to call it “Whedon-y,” that’s an insult I never want to make about someone’s writing; but it’s a quip that feels insubstantial. This card is fantastic (although I’d make it 2 damage and/or sorcery speed because WOW in the right shell this is an insane limited card, even in a mediocre shell) and I want more out of the text. So this might not have been the best card for this contest, or this text might not have been the best for this direction. Either way, the elements are there and getting into a place of substance is difficult. Card’s deec.

~

@i-am-the-one-who-wololoes​ — Covering Fire

“Choose a creature you control that isn’t attacking or blocking. It deals damage equal to its power to target blocking or blocked creature an opponent controls.” There you go. The only difference is that the first creature isn’t removed from combat. And why would it need to be removed from combat, honestly? I don’t understand why this needed to be worded the way it was at all to do something that mechanically makes zero changes to the flavor. Or why couldn’t it just be a Bite to an attacking or blocking creature, or untap something? Like, untap a creature and remove it, then it deals damage to a creature you don’t control… I don’t know, anything simpler at all. I’m really trying to be diplomatic about this, so let me back up for a second.

I like the art direction, and porcupinefolk are awesome. I get the conflict. I get what the card mechanically is trying to go for. All those are strong. What remains is that the ability is worded in a way that is so convoluted that it’s borderline nonsensical. The flavor text should be in quotes, and I have no idea why it isn’t, because it’s clearly being spoken. A last sticking point is that the name… Well, that’s not really what covering fire is, is it? This card depicts a rescue of sorts, presumably lethal towards the aggressor. And covering fire is a defensive tactic that has nothing to do with this particular situation. What were these choices that you made? I feel completely disconnected from the intent. Simplicity matters.

~

@jsands84​ — Sicklefoot Ambusher

I want to compare to a card like Iroas’s Champion. There are better cards, but let’s look at the straight up 1AB multicolor uncommon. This card is strictly better in almost every way, and I feel that either I’m overestimating modern sensibility as far as double strike goes, or if this card really is that far pushed. A 3/1 with just double strike would have made this fantastic, and then the only qualms I could give would be about the flavor choices. The idea of a flashing dinosaur with another dinosaur as a distraction is great, and hey, as a top-down Jurassic Park inspired design, I get it!

The fact that it’s a still from the movie’s storyboard (Lowery is cool, fwiw) with a quote from the movie makes this card feel more derivative than you probably intended. My inner, stupider issue with this being an action shot with a quote that’s a pause in the action is…smaller, but the POINT is: this probably wasn’t the best place for this quote, and honestly, the fact that it’s an idiom these days doesn’t take away from how entrenched the line “Clever girl” (lowercase ‘g!’) is with the Jurassic Park franchise. A flashing dinosaur could have been awesome and to some degrees it still is. Pump the card down and MTG the vibe and you’ll have something much more serviceable.

~

@kamoegoi — Challenge-Glass Pretender

God, I FINALLY found Oracle precedent. So, let’s take a look at Akron Legionnaire! Aside from being the only one defending Ohio, it’s got text that would make your Pretender give your clone the ability: “Except for this permanent and permanents that share a name with it, creatures can’t attack or block.” I am 99% sure. Is there something I’m missing? I don’t think so, but this is a weird card, and aside from being not-exactly-exploitable with Mutavault shenanigans and aside from being kind of a pain for aggro decks, this card’s pretty cool! It’s a limited jerk for sure. What if you copy something with defender? What if you temporarily donate something, clone it here, then gain control of it again? Maybe it’s me thinking of the meanest possible aspects but as someone who would definitely exploit this card, it actually feels very evil. Maybe if it forced attacks, but that would be a lot of text. Would it?

I think the concerns for power level and limited fun-ness make me slightly warier of this card than I should be. It’s not going to break anything, that’s for sure. It would make Commander games a bit of a slog if you can protect it and then Maze the thing you cloned. There are ways around, but man. In a vacuum I really want to like this card a lot more than I do. Flavorfully, I haven’t touched on it, but it’s fantastic if a bit lengthy in the name. The FT does exactly what it’s supposed to do, and even makes it a touch personal, doesn’t it? That’s all well and good. Combat restrictions might be tight, but bringing across this feeling of locking down the game feels even tighter. I love control, though, so I might warm up to this when the eventual IF cube comes around.

~

@macaroni-and-squeez​ — Theer, Unknown Dodger

So here’s the deal: let’s start with two tiny word changes, one in that “Theer can’t be blocked” instead of “cannot,” and one with “You may play that card for as long as” etc. That’s about it on that front. This card’s pretty straightforward as far as mechanics go and it’s a solid blue Commander and limited card with excellent theft capability that protects itself as much as illusions can, exceptionally so. I like that a lot. The art direction feels cheeky and I’m envisioning something a little more epic in my head from this illustration, and that’s all well and good.

The flavor text invokes an emotion I have a hard time describing while being constructive. The short version is that it’s not strong. Is this Theer being self-referentially cheeky, or the guard forgetting about this thief, somehow? It feels like you started with this idea for a flavor text entirely reliant on the name being a resonant pun and worked backwards, and to be blunt, it’s not resonant whatsoever. One letter is reversed from “there” to make a name that doesn’t sound or feel good in the mouth. I don’t know what to do with it, really. I’m sure that it took an amount of effort to find something that could work in the parameters you set out for yourself, but those parameters resulted in a card that’s blunt in itself to the point of detracting from the goodness of its relatively simple design.

~

@misterstingyjack​ — Willing Volunteer

Oi, hold on. If he’s saying “pick me,” why is the art depicting him already ready to be sacrificed? It feels as though the text should reflect the moment before, or what he would be saying as he’s about to be offed, like, “at last” or “for [demon]!” or whatever. I do like the awkwardly dark inherent humor in the direction. I also really like this ability, and sacrificing fun makes those things all the more powerful. I feel as though this could be uncommon, even with the weirdness of copying tokens, because the corner cases to make this work are already specific enough for this not to warp a limited environment, and copying things is already more uncommon than rare these days. Or I might just be overthinking it.

Is there a second paragraph’s worth of commentary here? Shoot, uh… Yeah, what the heck. Art things! Right, that’s the major sticking point for me. Again, love the mood, weird as it is. I guess if I had to change something besides the above mentioned issues, I’d say that the name and flavor text are again a little too obvious. The art direction and the ability already makes the name humorous, so that much is covered, right? So the flavor text going back to the name is a nice sandwiching, but it’s a bit too much bread, if you catch my drift. What don’t we get from the rest of the card that the FT can add? All the same, there’s good work being done.

~

@morbidlyqueerious​ — Epiphany Cascade

This is a quickie favor so I’ll go through and explain what I can as if this was a card in the workshop. Is that fair? Alright. Let’s talk about it.

Besides being only a storm enabler, I feel that this card’s middle ability doesn’t need to be worded the way it is. It could just have “Whenever you play a card this turn, exiled the top two cards of your library. Until end of turn, you may play those cards.” I would honestly drop the ETB and just make it on casting spells, but that’s me. The thing is, this is still just a late-game stormer with a lot of impulsivity, so does it need to be lands too? I’d bump it to rare. As for the flavor text, it might be fine, but it’s bordering on generic. What is it enhancing? I like the epic feeling of cascading into more and more spells and cards, but yeah, we know knowledge burns, and I don’t understand what it’s adding to. Burning away the library? I don’t feel that it’s doing anything new for the card. 

~

@nicolbolas96 — Disdain

I can’t really fault this card for being strictly better. I mean, Disallow is a thing. One mana for split second above Counterspell is a bit iffy but there’s only so far you can go stretching the argument of what’s healthy for a format. The three mana is a sticking point for people interested in older formats. For something more like Commander, it’s awesome, but that’s besides the point. I don’t think that mechanically this card is doing anything above and beyond, but not all cards have to do that if the flavor is right, and I don’t mind this card’s mechanics for existing.

Flavorfully, it’s dry. Disdain as a concept is highbrow, dismissive, condescending, and the flavor text’s exclamation point, while perhaps mocking, is invested in retaliatory responses from the opponents, which conceptually, disdain doesn’t cover. This makes a lot more sense in my head. Basically, the feelings of the name and flavor are at odds, and the mechanics aren’t helping either case. I do like split second and the potential mockery of the flavor text, but that’s not disdainful, and that turns the name on its head. Without any context in the art/direction/world, trying to imagine that connective tissue is unreliable at best. Maybe you knew what you were going for, but the presentation doesn’t show me that way of thinking.

~

@nine-effing-hells​ — First Contact // Last Resort

I find this naming convention fascinating, and you know what, as a proponent of odd names in MTG cards, X to Y worked for Aftermath but it doesn’t necessarily have to be that way, just like the split cards from Ravnica and whatnot. If you’ll recall, aftermath cards didn’t have flavor text, though. And there’s a reason for that—things get squishy. I think that this card is honestly great mechanically, and evokes MH feels without going too far into odd territory. I also don’t feel that this card really should have been the final go. I wouldn’t have minded this as some kind of flavorful mDFC if you had been able to go from side to side with something almost alien, y’know?

…was this card about alien things? Like, I’m trying to imagine a way in which someone is saying hello and goodbye, with it being a first contact, and… What the heck is the story of this card, actually? This is more confusing the more I think about it. I would be able to more clearly understand this without the flavor text, and that’s a major strike against it, honestly. I do love the names, and the mechanics, and all those other weird parts of the card. The story is seriously bugging me now. Why would you say “Goodbye” during your last resort? Hm. I think this card could have used a lot of conceptual revision. All the same, I like that it exists.

~

@partlycloudy-partlyfuckoff — Storm Fleet Swiper

This card could have potentially been a judge pick on two counts. The first could have been if it untapped the artifact that you gained control of, and that’s a major mechanical oversight that you should keep in mind the next time you make a Threaten effect. Gotta untap. Secondly, why wasn’t this card a goblin? I’m not gonna go off as if you did anything objectively wrong, but the flavor text is pretty shortsighted/immature/impulsive, and if a human said this to me about anything unironically, I’d…well, I wouldn’t judge them, so I guess that’s off the table, but if they were intentionally trying to run this as a joke, I’d think they were trying to hard in the goblincore category. But, if they were a goblin—perfect, carry on, Captain Scrungles.

Yeah, I do want tos ay that this is a good card. And it is. Could use polish but it’s good. I would suggest that for your next card that you take a look at the resonance of MTG’s established feelings regarding types/moods. This is, in my opinion, a goblin card through and through, and also a pirate card, and it’s fun, and I hardly need to imagine the art because I know what the character is doing! They’re swinging down with a maniacal grin grabbing at a jeweled lotus because they’re an enamored pirate goblin thingy. That much is great. As a human character, they’re not resonating with me at the moment.

~

@partytimesdeluxe​ — Divine Injunction (JUDGE PICK)

I am in the minority here. Just for transparency’s sake, this card got some positive attention from other mods, and lots of impressed reactions. The flavor text, I will agree, is spot-on, and I do like the direction that the art is going with how ’no’ this card feels as it relates to angels in the game. I can see this being a good limited pick. I can see how this would help some control strategies.

And I don’t like it—and it doesn’t matter whether or not I like it. The reasoning, to get back on track, is because I don’t feel that this is the kind of counterspell that white should be going for, a la Mana Tithe. I truly do not believe we’re there yet. Once more, I am in the minority, and I’d like to hold this up as a card that I fundamentally don’t think is reflective of my judgements but that is far and away popular enough to sway me away. It’s just like ability words, honestly. My disgruntlement is nothing compared to their popularity. This will change, perhaps, in two or three years, with white’s ability to get more tools and different tools, the ability to truly extend into the second color for counterspells of certain types. I think that white could get counters for protection and for reaction to specific cases, not just any spell like how this card works. And I think I’m going to be wrong. So, here’s all that judgment for whatever it’s worth, and we’ll see where it goes in the world.

~

@picadilly-blue​ — Scourge of the Sewers

Right, so, fine flavor. This card is fundamentally broken in multiplayer Commander unless your opponents have turn-0/1 interaction. Assuming this card is a $1.00 uncommon at the top end, the deck looks like this, and for about $265.00 you are unstoppable.

Ancient Tomb Lotus Petal Sol Ring Dark Ritual Cabal Ritual Bontu's Monument Oathsworn Vampire Phyrexian Altar 92 Scourge of the Sewers

There are other variations, but yeah, instant Doomsday before the game begins is a rough way to go. I’m not sure where else to go. Maybe, let’s think, where could this card go? A Rat King card that ignores the legend rule and can have, let’s say, up to ten Rat Kings as the commander, would be fun if they could buff each other and whatnot. As it’s printed, it needs revision of some kind, because otherwise—yeah. I want to say again that I love a rat-race feel! I love rats! Let’s get the bases covered first.

~

@pocketvikings​ — Final Gamble

Getting into the final stretch of things, I hate to say it, but I’m a little confused by the big gap between the text line and the flavor spacer. Is that a MSE bug? Anyway, the card. Small text change, but the first thing should be “Discard your hand,” and let’s talk about the rest of this card as it relates to cheating things out. There’s nothing wrong with sneaking and showing, but even one card can let you scry into something and make it big. In limited, well, it’s not a great topdeck, but what kind of deck really wants to play this card regardless? Getting a single card off of a gamble isn’t really where you want to be; if you have enough cards in your hand to make this kind of card viable, chances are you’d rather be drawing into more material to help you win the game.

As for the flavor, I don’t hate it, but I would have appreciated some art direction. Let’s take a look at the baseline possibility, that there are a bunch of people sitting around a table and one of them is betting all-in. Obviously that’s kind of boring and probably not what you had in mind. The question is, what about this card suggests otherwise? What’s the context of the figure saying this? Why is this so epic as a mythic spell? I can try to imagine a baseline, but the name, ability, and flavor are all giving me not much to work with for the moment.

~

@real-aspen-hours​ — Breaching Charge

Yeah! It’s a creative fulfillment of the prompt, and we can see exactly how it connects to the art and the direction. The charge comes from outside, you’re bringing the party and the party is shrapnel, and there’s a big boom that would make this card amazing in limited and a great sideboard card for whatever formats we’re working with. So that much is all good and commendable. Now let’s talk about polish.

“Vehicle” is surprisingly capitalized in card/oracle text. I don’t know why, but that’s something to ensure you can do. I’m 99% sure that the text should say that “~ deals 3 damage to each creature” instead of all creatures. Lastly, though, I get to stop being good-naturedly-nitpicky and get into the flavor formatting. The text makes sense, but here, you have a quote without quotation marks, and is it small? Yes. Is it insignificant? No. It’s what defines this as being said by someone being hit with a cannon instead of it floating off into the void. Argh! Like I said before in the commentary for a card I can’t immediately recall, the little things become all the more noticeable when their inclusion is supposed to be a primary factor in appearance. It’s like wearing pants. Nobody really cares that other people wear pants—it’s when they’re NOT there that there’s an issue. So yeah, put pants (“”) on your card. Also, “--” creates a “—” for sudden breaks.

~

@reaperfromtheabyss​ — Gruesome Decapitation

What’s wrong with a little horrific imagery? Anyway. This card’s silly and I don’t hate it. For this cost, though, I really think it should destroy a creature or planeswalker. There’s not a whole lot of “creatures you control gain menace” in Magic’s history, surprisingly, but all the same there’s a whole lot of destruction and possible decapitation. Maybe. Take a look at Fling from Dark Ascension, y’know? Anyway, that’s not the point. What’s the point here? I know there was something, but… Let’s rewind. Firstly, the mechanics! Drop it to 3BB and/or add the planeswalker addition and you have a slam-dunk card that I wanna draft and see drafted immediately, no question. Sound good? Let’s talk about some weirdness.

I think that your flavor is a little intentionally vague, and I need more specificity. Something like a stomping beast you can put on any world. A goblin, sure, there are loads of goblins. A decapitation? Well, here’s a question: there’s a crowd here, so is this an execution? If it’s an execution, what kind of place is this that sees people watching while the executioner makes a quip? We’re veering into quip territory again, and like, I know that the connection is obvious, but it feels like unearned humor. What changes when you drop the quotation marks and the exclamation points? Then we have just: Heads up. We’re almost in Drill Bit territory there, and like I said, Drill Bit is one of my absolute favorite-designed cards ever. I think veering into the sick and twisted could have significantly improved the mood that your card might initially have been going for. That is, still, just my opinion. Just wait until next summer when I’ll have a degree in condescension, THEN it’ll be fact.

~

@shakeszx — Eager Pup

We’re back to the raptor problem, and I remember that one—above, like, thirteenish cards? The velociraptor? Anyway. Aggro isn’t there yet, and I don’t think it should be. Two power would have been strong. Three is too much. Pumping the brakes for a better-safe-than-sorry option is better than warping a meta into unfun territory. There’s lots to love about the concept, though, because hey, I do love RG aggro and there’s so many good creatures that I can’t imagine this not having some sort of home. It’s not Innistradian, but maybe on Ravnica or in a core set, someone gets off the leash and hey, we got a card!

This flavor really tells us all we need to know about the art potentially. Heh, had there been one more word allowed for this contest, there could have been a great trinomial with someone trying to control a crazy pup: “Sit! Stay! Please?” Maybe a little chintzy—well, definitely—but the point is that I can see how this card looks just from the parts that aren’t the flavor, and the flavor accentuates the parts we don’t see, and that’s all I wanted from this contest! The parameters of making cards with textual requirements can be vague, but the ideas behind them are solid. This is, indeed, a solid-as-heck idea. Let’s tone down the aggro and see what we got. It’s not quite cute enough for a judge pick, but it’s an honorary favorite as a decent example. Take that for what you will.

~

@snugz​ — Joyous Return

Should this card have been GW multicolor? I’m uncertain about how monowhite tutors for creatures, even legendary creatures, without support. Right now, since there’s no limit to X, I don’t think this is in-pie. I could be argued against that, but while white is primary in tutoring for just planeswalkers, the creature part really bugs me. That said, I think that returning it to the battlefield is fine and you can just say “mana value X” instead of “mana value equal to X” and it’s all fine.

The downside is that this card isn’t exciting. There’s a storytelling trope that could be present and could be specific on the right world, but just by itself, everything is safe and expected and the happily ever after sensation is something that I’m struggling to connect with. There’s nothing wrong with happy endings and celebrations, like the ones from Eldraine and Strixhaven. The questions remain: is this card doing anything new? Definitely not from a storytelling perspective, so let’s take the tropes it’s emulating and ask: is it doing those tropes in a way that stands out or gives specific context, meaning, or intrigue? Personally I’m not seeing it. There’s room for it to improve and there are places where that interest can go. For the moment, well, I’m scrambling for a foothold.

~

@starch255​ — Gisa’s Messenger

So the letter begins with the quote, right? Do we see Gisa anywhere in here, maybe as the one throwing the head? Like, are they on opposite sides of a room or something? I’m mildly confused by a lack of framing context and camera work here. I can imagine Geralf working on something when a head is flung through his window, shattering a beaker as it bounces off the table, or maybe it’s flung right into the open rotting torso of one of his corpses. Either way, it’s a tiny bit of a stretch to have the letter’s opener be the quote when the person saying it isn’t around. Or maybe you could have single quotation marks to denote that it’s not an actual person saying it in the scene but rather the letter itself? Either way.

Uh, card’s decent! Hm. Honestly, it’s really good, and I’d now like there to be more toughness-buffing cards from this environment, but there really can’t be that many, can there. Also, is this in black? For creatures and planeswalkers I can imagine this working like that, but is this direct damage in black’s pie? I think if it was life loss then sure but I’m uncertain. Is there that much difference? I don’t know, probably not. Whether or not we’re still in there for black hardly matters in the long run but it matters to me, darn it. Regardless! I think the funny mood is captured pretty basically in the the card, and the direction is hindered slightly by a lack of necessary structural context, at least for my mind’s eye.

Phew. Join us next week when, I’ve been told, something is indeed happening. I know, right? Stop the presses and get your cards ready. Thank you for your entries, and be well!

@abelzumi​

#mtg #magic the gathering #custom magic card #two word flavor contest #commentary #general commentary #inventor's fair

[avengershumanresources]

blood 2 - Strange/Stark!Reader

Relationship: Dr. Strange/Princess!Stark!Reader

Rating: M

Warnings: Adult Themes, eventual smut (like, wayyy down the line), adult language, implied sexual violence, general violence

Synopsis: Reader is the daughter of the legendary King Anthony Stark, Uniter of Lands, The Iron Defender, and leader of the realm. When the king disappears during battle, hope is lost and he is presumed dead.

When the late king’s uncle, Obadiah, takes the throne until your brother Peter is of age, he quickly arranges a marriage for you with a wicked king in a neighboring kingdom.

With the realms politics in question, and rumors of an upcoming siege to overthrow Peter’s rule before it starts, you quickly learn who is loyal to the crown and who is not.

part 1 - part 3 

Masterlist

Chapter Playlist

2 - a night at the pub

You parted from Stephen the moment you saw Natalia and James in the crowd at the pub. They were sipping from large beer steins, listening to a bard sing a sorrowful song about the death of the great Iron Defender. 

When the music ended and the pub applauded, the entertainer switched to something more upbeat to soothe the mood.

“A bit sentimental for you two, isn’t it?” you asked, pulling back your cloak. Stephen had transfigured your overbearing mourning garb into something that would better fit in the village.

“How on earth did you slip out tonight?” James asked in surprise, brows raised to his hairline. “I would’ve though t they’d have had you under lock and key.”

“Everyone’s a bit... distracted, believe it or not,” you replied coolly, taking a seat at their table toward the back of the room. 

“So we hear,” Natalia leaned in. “Any news of the next king? I have a wager with the barkeep’s wife.”

“Anthony has an uncle who still lives,” Stephen supplied, taking a seat at your side. “Or so my companions informed me. Until Peter is of age, he would be the presumptive heir.”

“What do we know about him?” Natalia asked quietly, lowering her head conspiratorially. 

“Nothing,” you replied with a long sigh. “He’s been at the winter palace my whole life.”

“Nothing suspicious about that,” James shrugged and took a swallow of his drink. “Nat, what do ya think about Asgard this time of year?”

“Stop up James,” the redhead nudged her companion and returned her attention to you and Stephen. “And if he doesn’t give up the job in six months?” 

“He is removed,” Stephen replied bluntly.

“Yikes, you’re scary, did you know that?” James murmured. 

“I’ve been told,” the sorcerer grunted, flagging down a barmaid for a drink. He could already tell it was going to be a long night. 

“Don’t forget, you owe me,” you reminded him.  

“Lose a bet?” Natalia asked in amusement, eye rating between the duo.

“I caught him enchanting my tea without permission,” you replied. 

“Uh oh, broke the one rule,” Natalia mused, watching Strange for a reaction. 

“It was a protection spell, hardly worth mentioning, I cast them over the princess all the time,” he snorted under his breath. 

“All the time?” James asked in a voice low enough that only Stephen could hear. 

“That’s dangerous conjecture, Barnes,” Stephen warned. “My responsibilities include keeping my student, who happens to be the princess, safe.”

“If we were being honest, if I were kidnapped or traded away, it wouldn’t do much to the kingdom,” you reasoned, eagerly grabbing the first mug of ale before Stephen could take a sip. He waved a hand over the drink, ensuring it hadn’t been poisoned, before you took a long swallow. “Peter is the one who has to stay safe. Who knows where we’d be without a true heir?”

“You know that’s ridiculous,” Nat snorted. “Gods, you’re so dramatic sometimes.”

“My father’s funeral was today, give me a little sympathy,” you huffed in response, taking another swig of your drink. 

“To King Anthony,” James stood up, his voice bellowing through the pub. You ducked your head down into Stephen’s shoulder while onlookers cheered and joined in the toast. “May he rest in peace!”

The pub shouted in response, with steins clinking against one another and another song starting up. 

“We’re trying to draw attention away from the princess, you oaf,” Natalia muttered tersely toward James. 

“Who would be looking for her here?” the brunette assassin shrugged. “Besides, no one would be able to slip past the three of us.”

Stephen snorted under his breath, giving the room a quick glance to ensure any unwanted attention hadn’t been drawn toward them. James did have a point. Someone in hiding would seldom encourage a room to drink. 

Besides, he looked over at you laughing over something Natalia had said, you were genuinely smiling for the first time in weeks. The risk was worth a little relief.

He nursed at his drink while you signaled for another round for yourself and your friends. Stephen did well to avoid becoming drunk in your presence, mostly for your protection, but also as a means of avoiding embarrassing himself in front of you. 

The last thing he needed was you armed with an artillery of teasing that he couldn’t even recall.

As the booze flowed and the music picked up, James grabbed your hand and pulled you to the center of the room, dancing with some of the villagers to the upbeat song. 

Stephen watched, almost transfixed by the way you spun and twirled so lightheartedly to the sounds. As if you hadn’t a care in the world, and your life was back to the simpler time when he’d first met you.

“You’re drooling a little,” Natalia chuckled over his shoulder. 

Stephen’s head whipped around, unconsciously wiping at his mouth before scowling at the nosy redhead. 

“What are you talking about?” he asked, doing his best to keep his composure under her hard gaze. 

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed of,” she hummed, eyes falling where you and James continued your antics. “You’ve seen the man I’ve dedicated myself to.”

“You know the oaths I have to take,” he murmured. 

“Aren’t you the one in charge of said oaths?” she challenged coyly. “I’d never understood your antiquated ways. I would argue that loving another gives you more reason to stay dedicated to your craft.”

She had a point, Stephen reasoned to himself. The ways he’d worked to ensure your protection, the kingdom’s protection, and the advancement of his knowledge at your urging was beyond any work he’d done on his own at Kamar-Tai. 

Still, the distractions. The liabilities. 

By the Vishanti, if an enemy were to ever get their hands on you… oaths be damned. He’d burn the world to the ground to ensure your safety, and that was the problem.

“She’s going to marry a prince, and have kings and queens as babies,” Stephen replied coolly. "We have our roles and our duties.”

“I’m sure you wouldn’t mind giving her a few babies,” Natalia smirked up at him, laughing when his face went as scarlet as her hair. 

“Regardless,” his voice cracked slightly, adding even more to the embarrassment when Natalia quirked a brow. “I would need permission from the king to consider breaking my oaths and wedding a princess.”

“Oh, you’d marry her? That’s a new development,” she replied, eyes falling behind him while you and James returned. 

“I’m going to need another ale,” you complained, staring down the empty mug after chugging down your second drink.

“You’re going to need to watch how much you drink,” Stephen replied. “Remember last time. The hungover elixir only works so well.”

“You have a hangover elixir?” James asked. “Gods, I’d murder a man for one of those. Maybe it’s time I go to Kamar-Taj. Find my true purpose.”

“Don’t look at me,” Stephen held up a hand. “Wong is the one who brews it. He claims it’s an old family recipe.”

“Might have to pay Master Wong a visit tonight,” James stated, sliding a pair of fresh ales toward you and Natalia. “This one’s on me.”

“Are you going to tell me which lord you stole the coin from?” you asked, sipping at the drink before Stephen could check its contents. 

“It’s the one with the wart on his nose,” James snickered behind his drink. “I picked him specifically because you mentioned he beats his wife.”

“He’s getting another visit from the Widow in a few nights,” Natalia added with a wicked grin.

“I don’t pity the man-,” you started coughing, trying to clear your throat. “-Ah, excuse me-!” 

Caught in a fit of coughs, Stephen’s focus became you. You couldn’t catch a breath, even when he tapped your back, and you hadn’t had anything to eat- the ale. A wave of his hand confirmed the liquid had been tampered with. 

“Find out who served that ale,” he demanded the assassins, grabbing your arm and hauling you outside of the pub. 

You gasped for air, clutching at your throat while he drew up a portal back to the observatory. If this was what was happening with the protection enchantment in your system, he hesitated to think of the alternative. 

Scooping you up, he stepped through and situated you on one of the chaise’s strewn throughout the room. 

He thumbed through his collection of vials before finding a generic antidote and opening your mouth to pour the liquid in. 

It worked- kind of. You were able to take a few shallow breaths, but your eyes rolled back and you collapsed, falling back against the chaise. 

This was literally his worse case scenario. Everything he’d been afraid of, because he’d let you convince him to go out, and because he’d distracted himself with his conversation with Natalia. 

He summoned a spell book, fingers finding the page he recalled from his apprentice days. It was written to purge someone of any toxic entities within them, be it poison or dark magic. Moving his hands through the air and reciting the runes, your body was overtaken by a wisp of winding yellow light. 

It threaded itself through you, eventually hitting the source of the poison in your chest and pulling the toxic liquid free in a cloud of rancid black smoke. That was peculiar. Generally such a reaction was associated with dark magic rather than a consumed poison. 

Poison was usually a dark red or green. 

You stirred the moment the spell had finished its work. Taking a deep breath and clearing your throat, you looked to Stephen in wide-eyed horror.

“I was wrong,” you stated, hand to your chest.

“How do you feel?”

“I’m not dying,” you answered quickly. “Stephen, I am so sorry… I underestimated my… wait, Peter.” 

Stephen understood your meaning immediately. He instructed you to stay within the safety of the observatory and opened a portal to the outside of the prince’s chambers. 

The knights on guard jumped at the sudden appearance of the sorcerer, who took no time for pleasantries.

“An attempt was made on the princess’ life,” he informed the duo. “Have you heard any disturbance from the prince?”

“No one has been in or out since the prince retired,” Sir Samuel informed him, looking to Sir Clinton with a shrug. “He hasn’t made a noise.”

Just as Samuel finished his sentence, there was a loud crash from within the room. 

The guards charged in, finding the prince in a struggle with a masked man. The prince was doing his best to fight off the dagger brandishing assassin, kicking him in the chest when he was distracted by the entrance of the guards.

When the assassin realized he was outnumbered, Stephen saw his hands move rapidly to open a portal, and before anyone could intervene, he was gone. 

“Your highness!” Samuel rushed to the prince’s side while Stephen ignited the candles in the room with a snap of his fingers. “Are you injured?” 

“Sir Clinton, get to the queen and Princess Morgan,” Peter ordered after catching his breath. He looked to Stephen. “And the older princess?” 

“Safe,” came the sorcerer’s response. 

“You said an attempt was made on her life,” Samuel retorted. 

“A what?” Peter glared up at the sorcerer. 

“I took care of it, she is safe,” Stephen assured him. “Are you injured, your highness?”

“I’m fine,” he brushed off the two men and stood up. “I want the guard awoken and informed of what has happened.”

He turned to Stephen.

“I want the wards reconstructed around the castle,” he continued. “I don’t trust the foundations of previous Masters. If you must call in sorcerers from Kamar-Taj, we will provide what they need.”

“Sir, your great uncle is due to arrive in a fortnight,” Samuel reminded him. “Shall we inform the convoy of the attempts on the royal family?”

Peter looked to Stephen with a frown. One of the young king’s first major decisions. 

“Let’s address the question in the morning,” he decided. “I want to know my family is safe.”

As if on cue, Queen Virginia and Princess Morgan were led into the room by Sir Clinton and Sir Steven. 

“Peter,” the queen pulled the prince into a relieved embrace. “Clint told us what had happened.”

“I recommend we reconvene in the throne room,” Steven suggested with a nervous glance around the chambers. 

“The wards are strongest there,” Stephen agreed with a curt nod. “I’ll go retrieve the princess.”

He returned to the observatory and found you sitting, staring down at the floor in deep thought. 

“Princess?” he called softly. You leapt up at his voice, hurrying over.

“Are they safe?”

“Peter was attacked, but he fought the assassin off,” Stephen informed her. 

“And mother? And Morgan?” you bit your bottom lip anxiously.

“Safe,” he confirmed. 

You let out a relieved sigh, your hands trembling slightly at your sides.

“Sir Steven suggested we go to the throne room to discuss our next options,” he offered his arm and she took it gratefully. 

He hoped she didn’t feel his own tremors. His own panic at the thought of losing her. The aftershocks of their new reality and his worst nightmare.

“I won’t allow this to happen again,” he promised her quietly. 

“It wasn’t your fault,” you assured him, your voice was shaky. “I was hurting, and whoever did this, acted on our vulnerabilities. I’d been selfish to hide in the village when I should have been by my family.”

“You slipped up once,” he countered, slowing his pace down the hall. He could have easily drawn a portal to the room, but he figured you both needed some time to manage your emotions. “You’re human. We make mistakes. It just happened we both made a mistake at the same time tonight. I wouldn’t have allowed you to go if I hadn’t been confident in my judgement of the situation.”

Your hand trailed down to his and you gave it a squeeze. 

“Thank you Stephen,” you murmured, holding on a moment longer before replacing it on his arm. 

He felt his heart give a small throb at the minute action, his fingers left tingling, and not from the damage from the accident.

“Always at your pleasure, your highness.”

(---)

3 - a new day

TAG LIST (Message to be added to this fic or my general tag list!):

@ayamenimthiriel @drstrangely-strange-deactivated @ladynothing @im-a-bi-disaster-help​ @idkwhatthisislol​ 

#dr stephen strange #dr Stephen Strange/reader #dr Stephen Strange x reader #Dr Strange #dr strange/reader #dr strange x reader #reader insert #reader fanfic #reader fic #stephen strange x reader #Stephen/reader #Doctor Stephen Strange #stephen strange/reader #marvel fanfic #fantasy marvel au #marvel fairytale au #fairytale au #MCU AU #marvel #marvel fanfiction #dr. strange fanfiction

[woozisnoots]

modest jeon wonwoo

° pairing: wonwoo x reader ° genre: university!au, host club!au, fluff ° word count: ~1.7k ° warnings: none! ° a/n: this had no business being this long and idek if i like it lol but I want to specifically dedicate this piece to @wonwoosimp​​ bc she’s literally the sweetest, best bean in the world [insert uwu meme here] thank you for gifting me my very first photocard, I literally cried opening it! I love you so much, I hope you enjoy!

welcome to the svt host club!

masterlist!

you entered university with a certain goal, a purpose. eventually, you were going to be the pediatric surgeon that the 13 year old you ushered you to be.

…let's just hope the knowledge of your brain was enough to get you through the first four years of pre-med. with your 3.7 high school GPA, you were lucky to get into your first choice college, let alone your current major

from the start of the semester, you dedicated yourself to studying the anatomy and physiology of the body until you knew every nook and cranny there was to know. and the library was the perfect sanctuary to get your shit together

as much as you loved your roommates, their constant fights over closet space and boy toys gave you no peace of mind what-so-ever

bless the library for being opened 24/7. If your roommates found you sleeping on their only working desk, you would find yourself waking up to the sound of tripping freshmen trying to get to their first 8am class right in the middle of the hallway

but the lone table in the corner of the library just on the third floor did you good at staying focused. even provided some good naps in between every now and then

the day before your first anatomy test, you LOCKED yourself in the library. no one was going in OR OUT of the premise just to sit across from you on YOUR table until you fully memorized the different layers of epithelial tissue >:(

gosh, you even scattered all your notes across the table just so people got the memo that this seat was: [OFF LIMITS]

yes, off limits to everyone except a certain jeon wonwoo.

the way you met was abrupt to say the least

besides your table, you had a pretty good view of the entire campus — from the main health science building all the way to the student parking lot

and just below you, an astonishing sight of a mob of screaming girls chasing after a mouse guy in glasses. not to be inconsiderate and heartless, but unless you heard someone scream bloody murder, diving back into your flashcard you go

tissue after tissue, you start to get delusional because at this point, everything is starting to look the same

slumping down into your chair, you take a second to mentally recharge, drinking the water you’ve neglected for the past three hours

you time yourself for a five minute break, going through the notifications on your phone

before you could read your roommate’s ongoing ramble on the latest update of the “crazy good looking, god-like, elite host club that the university has to offer”

a ‘club’ that you didn’t even know anything about nor cared for

you hear a loud ‘thud’ coming from the bookcase in front of you

from the side the tall, lean guy with glasses that you saw earlier emerged with his hands gripping his tricep

you try not to draw too much attention to him. half the reason being you didn’t want to embarrass him by laughing at the fact he ran into a 10 feet tall bookcase

and you did not need this man distracting you. it’s your eight week streak being this productive, a new record for anything you’ve done in your entire life and your pride wouldn’t let you have it if you lost it just because you saw an attractive man on sight

you scribble down a decent guess to the tissue identification question that you’ve been stuck on for the past few minutes, not bothering to look up

“that’s actually dense connective tissue, not smooth”

jolting up from your seat, you look up realizing the guy 5 feet away is now right in front of your face looking down at all your papers

“you can tell because they’re striated”

you stare at him in disbelief wondering how he could have gotten so fast with just looking at it for a few seconds. eyeing him up and down, he definitely looked around the same age as you but he wasn’t someone you’ve seen around the science buildings. and you would know since you took the liberty of familiarizing almost everyone within the department

“do you mind if i sit here?” his hands already on the edge of the chair ready to pull it out from underneath him

“...yeah sure”

“oh i’m wonwoo by the way,” he says as you both exchange awkward stares and knowledgeable nods

okay well since he’s proven that he might be of help to you, you might as let him stay. from what you’ve gathered, he didn’t have any stuff on him aside from his phone that you watch him get out of his front pocket, getting ready to play pacman

forget how attractive he is, this guy has some brains.

for the rest of the day, as you guys sat across from each other, wonwoo would occasionally bounce back and forth between giving you study tips and playing whatever game he decides to play at that moment in time

he was surprisingly really good at this? he knew more things about the subject than your professors did, and that’s saying a lot. like you’ve been looking at cells for WEEKS and you were lucky to get at least half of them. which begs the question:

“how do you magically know all this?”

the blank expression on his face tells you he wasn’t expecting that question but he quickly shrugs it off. “i just know a few things from my parents that’s all”

you would have questioned him further but the time on your phone read “22:57” and you already broke your number rule about sleeping early before a big test

as you pack up all your stuff, wonwoo pushes his chair in, bidding you farewell

“good luck on your test tomorrow!”

you appreciate the gesture, mentally thanking him for his help and proceed to go back to your dorms, preparing yourself to tell your roommate all about the exciting? day you had

“YOU MORON. JEON WONWOO?”

laying flat on your back on your bed, you cover the bottom half of your face, quivering under your sheets as you stare at your roommate’s outrageous outburst

you explain what happened and who you met today at the library. when your roommate asked to describe him in more detail, all you said was that he was pretty smart for someone who wasn’t particularly in your major

your roommate lets out a loud scream into their pillow, gripping the bed sheets before giving you the earful of the century

“he’s just being modest. he’s a korean lit major but he’s one of the uni’s top students since both his parents are the head of the science department.

…AND he’s one of the most requested host club members. so you caught yourself one big fish today bud.”

top student? science department? HOST CLUB? none of that was processing in your brain. the one club that you wanted nothing to do with and you just happened to meet their top money maker

grand.

the thought didn’t keep you up at night only because you thought that today’s encounter was just coincidence and you probably would never have to see him again.

(sad though, your roommate was right. he is rather good looking.)

the time that it took for you to take your test the next day flew by so fast that you questioned if it even happened. the first step you took out the classroom, you start to second guess all your answers, regretting that you didn’t check a third or even fourth time before submitting

your train of thought halts when you see jeon wonwoo standing in the empty hallway

“i’m sure you aced it”

and just like in a netflix original romance movie, he reveals a bouquet of pink begonias from behind his back while shyly adjusting his glasses

“these are for you. to congratulate you”

weird way to phrase it but you were still gonna take the flowers. “host club tendencies?”

“so you found out?”

from a distance, you can hear the rushing footsteps from downstairs followed by a sense of purpose. “i think i was bound to” :/

you didn’t know how you felt about the current situation. you had no idea what host club was until you got here and you still don’t know what they even do. for all you knew, this could just be a gesture to get them more clients

but if his actions were genuine… you wouldn’t mind seeing him again

“i have to start learning muscles for our next exam. heard it was one of the hardest ones. i’m not sure if you have more studying tricks up your sleeve?”

“i might.” a cocking little grin now appearing on his face

“good. same place at the library tomorrow then. and this time? try not to bring your dedicated fans wherever you go”

so these study sessions continued. you guys occasionally had to change spots - from cafe to an empty bio lab - if the mob ever saw a single hair follicle that might be his

but each time, wonwoo brought something more just himself. one day it would be coffee, others days it would be food. things to keep you motivated.

for a korean lit major, he was taking a lot of time out of his day to help you, being attentive to all the strategies that help you study and such

possibly making your assumption from months back, true.

by the time finals rolled around, aside from the spursts of review here and there, study sessions became more casual. you didn’t feel the need to overwork our brain since you already knew all the information (something you actually learned from wonwoo himself)

possibly the last meeting you’d have with him was similar to your first: just you two together but him playing on his phone. and yet before the night ended

“i have a proposal.”

“i’m not giving you money for your dumb club.” bold of him to assume you would-

“no but i really appreciate the thought :)

why don’t we turn these study sessions into… study dates instead?”

:0

your assumption after 6 months later: finally confirmed

“but that’s only IF you ace your finals.”

well let’s just say at the very end, you had a successful first semester and are now one step closer towards being the surgeon of your dreams.

plus, you even landed yourself a pretty cool boyfriend in the process

let’s hope his parents put in a good word for you when you apply to med school!

#seventeen #wonwoo #caratwritersclub #seventeen imagine #wonwoo imagine #seventeen scenario #wonwoo scenario #seventeen au #wonwoo au #seventeen fanfic #wonwoo fanfic #seventeen series #jeon wonwoo #wonwoo x reader

[boymeetsweevil]

the shape you make

Grouping: Reader x Johnny

Word Count: ~4.1k

Warnings/Themes: Halloweentown AU (again), body insecurity, slight allusions to speciesism, graphic smut, communication issues (as always), a very thirsty work friend

Summary: For both you and Johnny, there is something big holding you back from being intimate. At the yearly Harvest party, that something big becomes something known.

A/N: This fic is part of The Intimacy Anthology, and then Halloween came and ate it :) If you’re interested in the project and/or would like to see the works from the other talented artists, click the link!

“—I mean, we’re doing fine. I would say it’s perfect except for one thing.”

You frown down at the dragonling wriggling in your hands, partially in pity for him. Snickerdoodle is in for his first-ever check up and by the way he tries to burrow into the front pocket of your uniform, you can tell he’s uncomfortable. It’s likely that the coolant pills given to suppress fire during examinations are upsetting his stomach. You pat his rough belly. 

The rest of your frown is dedicated to a predicament you face with your boyfriend. 

You’ve been dating Johnny for three months. After being set up by two mutual friends who thought you’d be a good pair, you hit things off and decided to see where things would go. The issue was, while you’d had many a good conversation and even met his mother, you still hadn’t let Johnny get to know the real you. Which meant things between you felt too good to be true and you were preparing for an inevitable rebuff.

“What’s the problem again? He doesn’t want to go with you to the Harvest party?” 

Your coworker Nautilanita ruffles her wings anxiously as she hunts for the correct syringe for dragon skin and a few treats to distract Snickerdoodle. 

“No, we’re going to the Harvest party. The problem is that I want to go further with Johnny, but I don’t think I actually can.”

“Oh. That’s what I thought you said. But he’s literally perfect, so I figured I misheard you.” 

You roll your eyes. Despite being pair-bonded to another lovely griffin for almost 13 mating cycles, something about Johnny turns your friend into putty.

“I think that’s the problem. He’s hot, he’s sweet, he’s funny—”

“Ehh. I don’t think I’ve heard a great joke from him yet.”

“He’s funny in that cute, corny way.”

“Fair.” Nautilanita approaches Snickerdoodle with a dried newt and distracts him just long enough to give him the first of his vaccinations. “So, what, you don’t like perfect guys?”

“It’s not like that. It’s more like he treats me like I’m perfect.”

“Okay, did you just come here to brag?”

The flat look on Nautilanita’s face is enough to startle a laugh out of you. You’re glad for the tiny distraction and allow some nervous energy to leave you.

“You know what I mean. There’s things he doesn’t know about me that I’m pretty sure could ruin us. I’m not the perfect person he thinks I am.”

“What does not perfect mean?”

Nautilanita hands you a needle and switches places with you, scooping up Snickerdoodle. You take up a new syringe to draw some blood from between his wings for the examination. With quick work, you watch the gold liquid fill the barrel of the syringe.

“It sounds dumb when I say it out loud,” you whine while taking the blood away to the chemistry machine. Nautilanita smiles softly at you.

“That probably means it is dumb. And that you don’t have to worry about it.”

“You’ve seen Johnny, though.”

“Yes. Of course I have,” Nautilanita sighs dreamily. If it were anyone else, you might get jealous.

“He’s athletic and super buff. He’s normal. And I...”

“Yeah, I’m gonna stop you there. This is dumb. Do you think Johnny is a shallow guy?”

“Of course I don’t. I know he isn’t.”

“Then do you really think he’s gonna just drop you because you’re not 'normal’? I still don’t even get what that means.”

“No, but—”

The machine beeps and Nautilanita hands Snickerdoodle back to you to collect the sample.

“But what?”

“But I what if he doesn’t want me? What if he can’t be attracted to me?”

“Have you and Johnny kissed?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“More than once?”

“Yes.”

“And has he ever initiated a kiss?”

“Sure, lots of times.”

“Then I think he finds you attractive.”

You grimace to yourself. It sounded so easy put that way though you weren’t sure if Nautilanita even understood your worry. Maybe sitting down at that Leprechaun-run cafe after work with Nautilanita would help make your predicament clear, but at the moment you felt too exhausted. In an ideal world, it would be just as easy as Nautilanita said.

“What do you think?”

Mark holds up two button down shirts to his front for Johnny to compare. One is a saturated red and the other is a muted periwinkle blue.

“Blue one, easy.”

“Thanks. I’d ask Yeri, but she’s gonna be working almost up until the Harvest party. You’re lucky.”

“I don’t know who you’re calling lucky. I put sweat and tears into my outfits because I pick them all myself.”

“That’s bull. That one with the turtleneck and chains two weeks ago? There’s no way that was all you.”

“What? Yes it was”

Johnny tries not to eye the Harvest outfit he has laying on the chair at the other end of his room. The one that he’d recruited you into helping him with, over the duration of several days.

“Hmm. Not even when you’re shopping? Like when you’re in the fitting room and kind of flirting a little bit? Not even then?”

“Didn’t know you were such a hoe, Mark.”

"I have layers,” is all he says with flushing cheeks.

He’s glad Mark didn’t notice he avoided the question because the truth is that he’s never had such a moment with you. He’d like to, though. He’d like to be able to take you shopping with him, like normal couples do. Maybe you’d manage to sneak into the fitting rooms and give him a stack of things you’d want to see him in. Maybe half the time he’d come out shirtless just to see your reaction. Maybe at the end he’d pull you into the fitting room with him after one too many appreciative glances from you. But he can’t.

You’ve actually never seen him shirtless. Despite the fact that his thoughts sometimes go that direction when at the gym. Despite the fact that all his friends, Mark included, seem to think he’s already long since seen you bare and bared himself for you.

“You okay?” Mark asks when the minutes have ticked by and the conversation has screeched to a halt.

“Yeah, yeah. Just thinking.”

“What about?”

“What if, just as a scenario, we hadn’t done anything other than kiss.”

Mark’s eyes widen in the middle of folding his shirts and though he tries to hide the reaction, Johnny catches it.

“You mean you and—”

“Yeah.”

“So, just a peck or...”

“No! It’s definitely gotten, uh, intense. But I haven’t ever taken off my clothes in front of her or anything.”

Mark tilts his head, eyes narrowed above Johnny’s head. “Because you don’t want to?”

“That’s the thing. I do. But I’m pretty sure I’m not her usual...type.”

“Have you gone through a catalogue of her past relationships and found her type?”

“No, but—”

“Has she said she doesn’t like certain things about you?”

“...No.”

“Then why do you think that?”

“Well—”

The chimes of an alarm on his phone interrupt his explanation. Johnny turns off the alarm and gets up to the bathroom. He leaves the door open, not worried about privacy in the company of his best friend. Over the sound of running water and the aerosol of shaving cream leaving its canister he continues.

“I don’t want to make things awkward for her.”

“I mean, if you want her to look at you that way, that’s important. Even if she does have a type.”

“Right,” Johnny mumbles while running his razor under the tap. 

Mark comes to lean against the doorframe of the bathroom to hear better. Johnny’s lips purse at Mark’s reflection in the mirror. He feels torn.

“And if you’re wrong, then you can just move forward.”

“Right.” 

Right?

This year, the Harvest party is being hosted at the mayor’s house instead of at a corporate venue. There are probably hundreds of guests on the property all milling about and giving you a calming sense of anonymity. Johnny texted you earlier that evening telling you where you could find him when you finally left the vet clinic and made it to the party.

A few friends stop you to make small talk and instead of telling them you have to go meet Johnny, you let them delay you. A nymph from work brings you to the large kitchen to eat some rare berries she brought. Another friend from work ushers you onto the main floor to spin you a few times while a song that you like plays.

When the song changes, you exchange goodbyes and stumble off from them. Unfortunately, you bump into Nautilanita, who you had also technically been avoiding.

“Look who it is,” Nautilanita‘s talons curve dangerously around the stem of a wine glass.

“Oh, hey.”

“Guess who I ran into half an hour ago.”

“Who?”

“Guess.”

“Johnny?”

“Mhm. Your boyfriend,” Nautilanita snaps. “Why was he asking me where you were? I had to lie and say you got held back at work.”

“You weren’t required to do that,” you point out. Nautilanita narrows slitted eyes at you.

“I’m guessing you haven’t sat down and talked with him yet.”

“I haven’t. I do plan to, though. I’m just...”

“Nervous?”

You nod and suddenly Nautilanita is grabbing your arm and pulling you over to a darker corner of the house. There’s a group of people huddled loosely near the basement door, light smoke wafting up from where their heads are craned down.

“What are we doing?”

“Getting you some extra courage.”

“Nautilanita,” you hiss before darting your heard around your surroundings. “Did you forget we have weekly drug tests at work?”

“I’m not getting you drugs. I’m getting you some courage. It’s legal, I think.”

You stand off from the group, confused, as Nautilanita chats with the lady in the middle of the huddle. A witch, based off the purple ring she wears. The witch reaches into her bag when Nautilanita does actually ask for courage by name. Nautilanita returns with a small bag of bright yellow orbs that flash welcomingly in the low lighting.

“Open.”

You open your mouth obediently and chew the little rubbery yellow ball until it bursts into your mouth. It tastes a bit like dish soap but you swallow it.

“How long does this last?”

“10 minutes.”

“You mean I only have 10 minutes to find him and tell him everything?”

“Well, 9 minutes and 55 seconds now.”

You push past Nautilanita to circle back through the crowd and climb the staircase to where Johnny said he’d be on the second floor. He’s not in the billiard room at the end of the hall, but someone there points you toward one fo the guest rooms. When you find him he’s sitting in an arm chair in a corner guest room, scrolling on his phone when you enter abruptly.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” he puts his phone down and makes his way over to you. “Why are you out of breath?”

“I, uh, ran up the stairs.”

“You ran up the stairs to see little ol’ me?”

Johnny’s smile is bright and genuine and suddenly you feel a rush of something. It must be the courage. You throw yourself into his waiting arms and press your face to his chest. He should know, you think. He deserves to know.

You’re about to pull away and confess to him, but then he’s lifting your chin with a finger. His smiles bleeds into his eyes and softens into something you think you could swim in. He leans down and catches your mouth in a kiss.

Instead of worrying about the courage running out, you focus on the kiss. With your eyes closed you can properly lose yourself in the feeling of the hard muscle under his soft sweater. The sweater he chose after frantic consultation with you. 

Emboldened by the way you relax into him, Johnny pushes further into your space. His bangs tickle your face when he swivels his head and presses a fuller kiss to your lips. Warm hands creep a slow path up from the flare of your hips to the hem of your work shirt. His breath hitches a little in a puff against your cheek when you push up into him and kiss him harder. His hands come to anchor himself on your lower torso again. This time your movements have pulled your work shirt up to expose your stomach. 

The drag of the skin of his fingers on your lower back has you yanking yourself back with darting eyes and a shaky smile. It pains you to ruin the momentum of the moment, but you know that if you don’t explain yourself before your clothes are supposed to come off, you don’t know how things will end. You’re not expecting to look up and find Johnny’s eyes filled with something that looks akin to fear. 

“Shit—I’m sorry.” He rocks back on his heels and lets his gaze bounce around the corners of your face looking for a cue. “Should we talk about this?” 

You think about the 10 minutes you have, and how much of it could possibly be left.

“Y-yeah.”

You gravitate towards the guest bed and he follows with a flop.

“I hope you know I don’t want to pressure you into anything,” he offers.

“I know you weren’t. It was just getting kinda heavy there for a second.”

“And you don’t want that to happen.”

“I want to make sure you still want to.”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because...I haven’t been totally honest with you.”

Johnny can feel the prick of sweat at his hairline and across his shoulders. He kind of wishes you would just tell him you know what he’s hiding so he can begin to adjust. He knows it’s not what Mark would suggest, but he doesn’t want to lose you.

“I know humans say they like magical folk, but being friends with the magicals and being with them is really different.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“And even if they really are fine with us, they probably still would prefer to be with other humans.”

He nods, and then replays your words in his head. You said ‘us’.

“Maybe you wondered why it’s taken us so long to be physical”

“I have, honestly. But that doesn’t mean you should rush to do that.”

“Well, it’s not because I really needed more time. It’s because I didn’t have the courage to before. I didn’t want you to see me like a monster from those old books.”

“Wait, are you saying you’re—”

Before he can finish his sentence, you reach for the buttons of your work shirt and undo them as quickly as you can with shaking fingers and courage long since run out. As the shirt loses its structure and falls away, he can see more of your skin than he ever has before.

Scattered in patches across your abdomen, breasts, and even your back are teal scales that reflect his shocked expression back at him in dozens of little frames with the clarity of a polished gem.

“I’m actually not human. I come from a long line of water sprites.”

The tears of shame in your eyes, another first sight for him, are the same iridescent teal and leave subtle crystalline streaks on their way down your cheeks.

He doesn’t mean to, but he can’t find actual words, and the laugh seems to jump from his throat. Low bubbling first it then grows as the seconds pass by. You look up from the bedspread because you can’t believe your ears. This isn’t at all how you imagined he’d react. He holds up a hand. He knows how bad the reaction is but he can’t help it.

When the laughter begins to subside a moment later, he attends to his own shirt. He hikes the material up over his head and reveals smooth skin. You’re not sure what’s going on at first, but then he removes the silver earrings he wears every day and fur begins to sprout from his torso, his forearms, around his face. His canines and nails lengthen before your eyes to sharp points. And suddenly you understand.

“I bought these from a witch who specializes in werewolf magic the day before our first date,” he reaches over and places the small silver hoops into the palm of your hand.

You look down at the jewelry and then back up at your boyfriend’s face. You’re surprised to see that he looks different, though not because of the sudden lycanthropic transformation. There’s a lightness in his eyes and length in his spine that makes you realize just how much his secret was weighing on him.

No words leave your mouth as you crawl into his space. A small smile graces his lips and he lays on his back to make room for you. You kiss him once more and you’re shocked at how different it feels to do so without a secret smothering everything. As you part his lips, Johnny lays his hands on your skin gently. When you don’t withdraw, he lets his hands wander. 

His palms skim over the cold patches of scales like he’s trying to warm them. He likes the juxtaposition of the warmth from your skin and the cool brilliance of your scales. He likes the way they pattern on you, lining your spine and sloping over your roundnesses. He kiss parts he can reach on your shoulder and when you stop to let him move more, his kisses follow the trail below your collarbone and between your breasts. When he tentatively swipes his tongue over them, you sigh and sink more fully into his lap.

You pull at the thick hair hear the nape of his neck and redirect him back to your mouth. It doesn’t escape you that your bare torsos are constantly brushing. Your nipples harden when he hugs you to him and shivers at the cool patches meeting his skin.

“Are we going to?”

“Do you want to,” his breath puffs against the side of your jaw.

“Please.”

The press of your rocking hips against his reminds him of just how much clothing there’s still left to remove and how much skin there still is to marvel at. After switching positions, he has you on your back and makes a start on removing your pants. He makes quick work of them by trailing a claw under the stubborn button. When the slacks are gone, he looks over the splashes of blue on the inside of your right thigh, spilling over the front of both your shins, wrapping around your left ankle.

He starts there, with a simple kiss to the sparkle on your ankle and then continues. Like skipping a stone through cerulean waters, he kisses over your shins and makes his leisurely way over the hill of your knee. His tongue makes an appearance at your right thigh, where you had been praying for it. He lingers there until he’s certain the area is no longer untouched. There’s an urge to mark up the other thigh as well so there’s some symmetry. He follows the urge with your hand fisting in the thick strands of his hair the whole time.

“Johnny,” you groan when he takes too long trying to mirror the pattern of your scales with small nips to your skin. “When I asked if we were going to have sex, I was asking about today.”

“Sure, I’ve got you.”

He pats your thigh in a placating gesture, and then slides your underwear off at an obnoxiously slow pace with a shit-eating grin. You try your hardest to level a glare at him, but you break eye contact to gasp when he slides a gentle finger between your folds with no prior mention. You briefly consider just letting him continue, but you’re chasing a very specific sensation.

You rake your nails up the part of his back that you can reach, parting some of the fur there. The shiver that wracks through his whole back has you biting your lip in an attempt to stifle laughter. But it also has him shifting so he can hover over you, his hips occupying the place his shoulders once did. While he balances his weight on his knees and one hand, he uses the other hand to get just free enough from his pants.

He replaces his hand when the button, zipper, and the waist of his pants and underwear bunch around his lower thighs. You reach down before he can do anything else and see what he’s working with. Johnny releases a shaky breath while you feel him up, trace the trail of hair that run from his stomach to his groin. Your other hand runs up his arm in an idle fashion. It’s unintentional but, still, the feeling of your nails running over his skin feels like a live current, even through the fur.

The concentration he exhibits is clear as his head lolls forward. You stop your exploration and nudge him into action with a squeeze of your thighs. He still leans down to plant a kiss on your lips before hooking one hand under your back and around a thigh and shifting so you’re seated in his lap once more. You lower yourself onto him fully and begin rocking. You had been ready to take him early on but you’re wet enough to surprise him. He fights the instinct to pitch up into the wet heat until he’s sure you won’t mind.

When you start to get a bit frustrated with the angle, you push him back and brace yourself on either side of his chest. He lets out a long moan as you ride him, fangs glinting when he throws his head back. His hands come to pull you down onto him more firmly. He doesn’t realize that the prick of his claws on the swatch of scales that adorn your hip spurs you on as well. Each downward snap of your hips he meets halfway until he can feel the tell-tale signs of his orgasm coming. He’s not expecting you to reach down and brush a fingertip against the tip of one of his fangs. Carefully so you don’t cut yourself while you continue to bounce against him, you brush your finger across his lips. He’s not sure why, but it sets him over the edge and he spills into you.

You watch the way his face contorts with the pleasure and ache to join him. Grabbing one of clawed hands, you bring it to the apex of your thighs and he quickly guesses your need. He does his best to rub at your clit while the edges of orgasm fade away from his peripheral vision. It’s just slick enough to get you there, and you finish soon after his fog lifts.

The first thing you do is collapse onto him as you recover. Johnny tries to take deep breaths that you can match and eventually the two of you are letting out twin exhales. When you’re able to, you lift yourself just enough to kiss him again. This time it’s one soft singularity.

He sighs against your lips, and when he pulls back there’s a bemused smile on his face.

“I can’t believe you thought I was human.”

“Yeah,” you close your eyes. “I don’t know how we managed to fool each other for so long.”

“I was actually shaving five times a day since the first date.”

The thought makes you smile when you think back on all the times he would go to the bathroom and come back with a pink face.

“Now I’m sure you can guess why I never washed dishes at your place.”

“Would you get more scales,” he asks while brushing his thumb over the apple of your cheek.

“Close. My fingers would turn blue and web.” You wiggle them for effect.

“You know what? I don’t even think either of us actually said we were human. I guess we just assumed.”

You nod and wonder how things would have been if you came out earlier. The idea of surprising a Johnny that thought you were human on the 2nd date with webbed fingers makes you break your composure. He must follow your train of thought because he begins laughing too, shaking the two of you with the force. When you quiet down again, there’s a heavy calm settled in your ribcage. You suppose this is what courage can bring. Johnny rubs your back as you start to nod off. The last thought you have is that you’ll have to remember thank Nautilanita.

#nct fanfic #nct smut #nct scenarios #nct imagines #johnny scenarios #johnny fanfic #johnny imagines #johnny seo scenarios #johnny seo imagines #johnny seo fanfic