#//I figured this needed it's own verse since it's very likely going to be come a bigger thing

[gaysindistress]

Things that I feel like would happen when you’re in a relationship with Simon Riley.

Simon Riley masterlist

1. First off he hates the word ‘boyfriend’.

Maybe it’s because he’s in his mid thirties or something but he can’t stand being called your boyfriend. He’s more than that but also not at the same time. You live together, have access to each other’s bank accounts (which is only because he hates it when you try to fight him about him giving you money), and you’re each others emergency contact. He thinks of himself as your husband. The man wears a silicone ring when he’s home and a necklace with the ring that’s totally not a wedding band when he’s working. Price has seen the chain once or twice and smirks, shooting him a knowing look but never says a word.

Simon cannot stand it when people get nosy and want to know what your relationship status is. You’re together and that’s all that matters. No one needs to know that you’re the beneficiary of his will and life insurance policy or that he’s put you on all of his accounts. No one needs to know that he buys you anything you want but has only ever bought you two rings; a thin gold band with a flower engraved on it and its twin a matching emerald ring. No one needs to know that when he gifted them to you, there were tears and promises of safety, love, and happiness whispered against feverish skin. No one needs to know that he has your name woven into his chest tattoo.

No one needs to know any of that because your relationship is between him and you only.

2. You are not some submissive little house wife. You are a strong independent woman and he prefers it that way.

I know this one goes against what most people say but hear me out on this. Simon has been independent since birth practically. He’s only had himself to count on for years. Even in the military, he’s only been able to rely himself. Sure the others watch out for him but if it came down to it, he’s the only one who’s going to get himself out alive.

The thought of someone else relying on him in that way is terrifying. He can’t even fathom what it would be like to look at another person and fully trust them in that way. Half the time he feels like he can’t even be trusted to take care of himself let alone another human. In theory a sweet docile housewife is great with the meals and clean house but not for him. He needs to know that you can hold your own. He needs to know that you can be independent and carry on without him if something happened while he was working. He needs to know that you will be okay if he doesn’t come back.

You have to be okay without him no matter how much it pains him to think about it.

Like I said before, he’s made you the beneficiary of everything so he knows you’ll be set financially but that’s not enough. He’s made Price promise to keep an eye out for you. He’s made you promise to let Price do that and you agreed because it’s Simon who’s asking but you’d tell anyone else to fuck off.

In addition to all of that, he’s installed the best security system the government has to offer in your house. You have a very expensive and large safe in your shared closet that he’s instructed you to only open if you feel unsafe. While you might not like it, you agree to go shooting with him so he can sleep at night knowing that you could protect yourself if he’s not home. He’s gone as far as to make sure you have all of the licenses and certificates that are needed to legally own firearms in the UK.

He’s not leaving any opportunity for you to be vulnerable or have your ‘safety checks’, as he calls them, taken away.

3. Simon Riley is a godless man…until he meets you.

Now this is entirely my own headcannon with no evidence to support it so bear with me.

Simon had a shitty childhood where his mom would pray to a god who never listened and his dad would shout verses at him when he was drunk. God was a mythical figure that he was told stories off with nothing to show for it. He did believe at one point but then his dad never got better, his mom wore bruises of every shade, and his brother found comfort in drugs.

He found himself praying when he was being tortured by the Mexican cartel. Between the flashbacks of his abusive past, he prayed to a god who had failed him so many times before to help him. He prayed again as he dug himself out of that Texas grave with the major’s jaw bone. He wailed his prayers when he found his family executed after Sparks tried to kill him.

After that he deemed himself a Godless man. Years of praying had passed with nothing. This god had decided that Simon was not worthy of a miracle so why would he continue to worship him?

That was until he met you. He finds himself praying before every mission, every time he has to leave you, every time he’s on his way home, and just about any other time he thinks of you. He doesn’t know what exactly he’s praying for other than for you to be there when he gets back.

He whispers his prayers to an absent god against your skin as he worships your body, soul, and heart. He promises to be devoted to you until his last breath and vows to find you again in whatever afterlife awaits you. He pledges to find solace in you and only you when his haunting nightmares return. He makes an oath to your heart that it will never weather another storm alone again for his will take whatever beating that comes your way. He shows you that he will love you in the same manner as a Hozier song; putting you above all else because you have become his religion, his faith, his beliefs, his life.

You have become all that he is and he thanks the god he once believed in for you. He prays again but to you, his heart, his love, and his beacon through the enteral storm of life.

[s0fter-sin]

one of my favourite aspects of supernatural that you very rarely see in paranormal shows is that sam and dean are already versed in the world they live in. there’s no sudden discovery of ghosts and demons and now they have to learn about them along with the audience; they are born into it and already know all about it. it allows the audience to follow their personal story instead of also trying to figure out this new world and its rules

the first season is full of knowledge we never see them learn; “w*ndigoes are in the minnesota woods or- or northern michigan. i’ve never even heard of one this far west.” […] “great. well then this [his gun] is useless.” (1x02), “you don’t break a curse. you get the hell out of its way.” (1x08), d: “it’s a god. a pagan god, anyway.” […] “the annual cycle of its killings? and the fact that the victims are always a man and a woman. like some kind of fertility right.” […] s: “the last meal. given to sacrificial victims. d: “yeah, i’m thinking a ritual sacrifice to appease some pagan god.” (1x11)

almost every episode in the first season is a monster they’ve faced before that they then explain to the audience in a way that should feel patronising; like it’s the same speech given over and over again but instead, the audience almost feels included in the knowledge. it’s stated with such an innate confidence and comfort in said knowledge that it feels like we already knew it too; “spirits and demons don't have to unlock doors. if they want inside, they just go through the walls.” […] “the claws, the speed that it moves; could be a skinwalker, maybe a black dog.” (1x02), “it's biblical numerology. you know noah's ark, it rained for forty days. the number means death.” (1x04), “no no no, not the reaper, a reaper. there's reaper lore in pretty much every culture on earth, it goes by 100 different names.” […] “you said it yourself that the clock stopped, right? reapers stop time. and you can only see 'em when they're coming at you which is why i could see it and you couldn't.” (1x12)

they already know and, at least in the first season, already have what they need to kill whatever they’re hunting; already know to salt and burn bones for spirits, fire for a w*ndigo, exorcisms for demons, a silver bullet to the heart for shapeshifters. there’s only three times in the entire first season that they run into something new to them; 1x14 when sam gets his first vision that leads him to another psychic, 1x16 when dean calls caleb for help on the sigil he put together and he tells him about daevas, and 1x20 when they find out vampires are real- and they only don’t know that bc john thought they were hunted to extinction and not worth mentioning

(there’s also technically two half instances if you count one of them knowing something the other doesn’t - sam figuring out the tulpa in 1x17 and dean already knowing about the shtriga in 1x18 - but those still rely on sam and dean having prior knowledge)

even when they’re uncertain about facing something, it’s not bc they don’t know what it is; it’s precisely bc they know what it is and acknowledge that it’ll be a difficult hunt (“i don't know, man. this isn't our normal gig. i mean, demons, they don't want anything, just death and destruction for its own sake. this is big. and i wish dad was here.” 1x04)

so much of the tension in paranormal shows typically comes from the main character(s) not knowing what is happening to them/the people around them and having to find out how to resolve it. supernatural is unique in that it operates more like a police procedural. the tension comes from solving the clues and identifying patterns to figure out who (what) the killer is and intercepting before they can take another victim

it’s such a different tone to go for when compared to other shows that came both before, during, and after its run. it sets sam and dean on even footing with each other since they both have the same knowledge going in, and it puts them in a place of authority usually reserved for an outside character

the shows i compare spn to most is charmed, buffy and teen wolf; every main character in those shows are brought into the paranormal world knowing nothing, putting them on the same level as the audience, and they have their mc interact with others already knowledgeable about that world in order to overcome their problem/monster of the week. the audience organically learns about this new world as the characters learn about it. it’s a sound writing strategy that prevents “as we already know”-style exposition but something that complicates it is if your world building isn’t unique or intriguing enough, this slow introduction can become boring

we’ve seen shows like these before; sitting through the same tropes of characters learning to use their powers, struggling with no longer feeling normal/relating to the regular world around them, and not knowing how much they can trust the people already involved in this new world gets repetitive. all three shows eventually reach the same level of comfort with their new world that spn starts with but if the characters aren’t enough to draw you in, you can end up dropping it before they reach that point (and often, before the overarching plot can really kick in and evolve the show beyond the villain of the week format)

it’s the superhero origin movie in tv format; dragged out and overplayed. dropping the audience into an established world of course comes with its own problems but you also have the benefit of pre-existing established character dynamics that let the audience slot in like they’ve always been there instead of just getting to know all the characters while the characters also get to know each other

sam and dean already knowing about the supernatural lets the audience immediately get to the core of the story; the conflict between sam and dean, the search for their father, and the mystery of what killed their mother

[in1-nutshell]

Hello, hope you’re doing well!!

I actually sent this in the last time you opened your inbox but I’m guessing it got drowned out by the other requests lol(it’s okay tho dw about it) so hopefully this stray request can make it even tho it’s a little late😓

I have a request with a cybertronian reader (Gender neutral) + swerve

-

Little info about reader, they were a performer but more specifically a singer who performed in bars.

Reader and swerve met at a bar when they were performing and he immediately was smitten, so after they were done swerve approached reader to tell them how amazing they were but he was a nervous WRECK. Not only did they have an amazing voice but they were drop dead gorgeous(Basically whatever the cybertronian equivalent for a model is).

Both joined the lost light and when swerve opened his bar, the reader would help him run it, sometimes even perform on the occasion.

Eventually some bots become curious about readers and swerves relationship since they looked very close, the reader always listening to swerves rambles, never shutting him up and sometimes seeing them crack a smile or even laugh at his jokes. Only ever really showing him any type of affection/emotion since they come of aloof and stoic when talking to others. So they ask the question to him (or reader)and he breaks the bombshell that they are conjuxes and the bots go crazy💀💀

No one would’ve expect swerve to be able to bag a baddie like reader but it happened

-

The whole dynamic is basically just Jessica rabbit and Roger rabbit, the bots in question can be of any of your choosing!

Remember to take breaks when needed and take care of yourself!!

Hi! Sorry to here about the request. Some request do get lost (thanks for understanding!)

Now I can finally get this written!

Hope you enjoy!

Bot Buddy the singer and being Swerve's Conjunx

SFW, Platonic, Romance, Cybertronain reader

MTMTE

The Lost Light had many duos and partners on board.

Some that made sense like Rewind and Chromedome.

Another duo’s that came as a pleasant surprise like Tailgate and Cyclonus.

But one of the more unlikely duos on the ship was Buddy and Swerve.

Swerve had told the patrons many times about the story of how they met.

Many are still trying to figure out how truthful the story really is.

They would ask Buddy… but they kind of intimidate many of the patrons at the bar.

According to the bartender, Swerve had been looking around the local bars for ideas on how to design his own bar.

It was one night he decided to stick around one of the bars for the entertainment section.

That’s when he saw them.

Swerve nursing a cube of engex.

“Hey, what’s for the entertainment tonight? Trivia? Drunk lobbing?”--Swerve

“Nah, Buddy’s singing tonight.”—Random Mech

“Buddy?”--Swerve

The bot sighs.

“Trust me, you don’t wanna miss this. Their performance… well you’ll see.”—Random Mech

Swerve shrugs it off but starts to notice the bar quiet down significantly and many bots looking at the stage with a look he could only describe as lovestruck.

“Please welcome once again to the stage, our wonderful singer, Buddy.”—Random Mech

Buddy’s tall frame walks slowly out of the curtains.

Their frame lighting up with the spotlight as the other lights had dimmed.

Swerve could defiantly see why everyone was excited.

They had a frame of a super model!

And that voice!

Swerve was certain that he too had a lovestruck look on his faceplate when the first verse spilled from their lips.

Swerve tells the patrons that he had admired Buddy’s talent and ended up asking them their com line, so when he did have his own bar, he would contact them.

Not many are convinced that this is true, or at least the whole truth.

Thanks to a certain minibot with a camera bolted to his helm, he had the story on what happened after the show.

Swerve had been a nervous wreck the entire performance.

Buddy had noticed him in the crowd looking like he was going to short circuit at any moment.

Honestly, if they could, they would have stopped singing to go check up on the minibot.

After their performance they personally went to the minibot to see if he was okay.

Swerve stumbling out of the bar only to bump into someone’s leg.

“Oh! Sorry about that! Didn’t watch where I was going and—”--Swerve

His voice stops as he looks up at the beauty that was on stage a mere second ago.

“Are you okay? You looked like you needed help back there.”--Buddy

��N-nope! I mean Nah, I’m good. I’m fine! Everything’s fine!”--Swerve

Buddy smiles at him.

“I’m Buddy. What’s your name?”--Buddy

“Swerve…”--Swerve

“Well Swerve, I’ve been singing at this bar for a while now to know most of the regulars, yet, I’ve never seen you around.”--Buddy

“Yeah, Kind of looking around seeing how bars go and all. I wanna make a place of my own one day with a friend of mine and, well, I wanted to see what gets the bots coming back, besides the engex of course.”--Swerve

Buddy chuckles a bit looking at the flustered minibot.

They look over at the slightly less crowded booth at one corner of the bar.

“There’s an empty booth over there and I sure could go for a drink… do you mind accompanying me? Maybe talk a bit more about that bar of yours.”--Buddy

Swerve thinks for a second before agreeing to the drink.

He did end up giving them his private comline that night and Buddy ended up having a nice night with a cute minibot.

The rest was history.

No one had yet figured out how Buddy could stand to be with Swerve and his rambling.

They were quiet and had a neutral look on their faceplate when they weren’t performing. Yet here they were listening to Swerve’s chatter before and after their performances without any complaint.

If anything, few bots have seen smiles, chuckles and bits of laughter from the taller bot.

“What’s between you and Buddy anyways?”--Brainstorm

“Well it all started—”--Swerve

“Yes, I get that part, but what are you two exactly? Surely, Amica Endura or maybe you haven’t worked up to that point yet.”

Swerve gives the bot a confused look.

“They’re my Conjunx?”—Swerve

Brainstorm feels his optic twitch.

“What?”--Brainstorm

“They’re my—”--Swerve

“I heard that! But how?! Your you and Buddy is… Just how?!”--Brainstorm

Swerve shrugs as Buddy takes the stage.

Brainstorm walks back to his table with Chromedome and Rewind pouting.

“I still don’t believe what he said.”—Brainstorm

Chromedome looks up from his engex.

“What did Swerve say?”--Chromedome

“He said he and Buddy are Conjunx Endura.”—Brainstorm

Chromedome nearly spits out his drink.

Rewind seems unfazed by this news.

“Really?!”--Chromedome

“Knew it.”—Rewind

Both bots look at the minibot curiously.

“And how did you know?”--Chromedome

Rewind points to the stage.

“Watch the optics.”--Rewind

The group looks at Buddy’s optics.

They are firmly planted at the bartender pouring their voice into the love song in the mic.

“… Maybe he’s right…”--Brainstorm

That's them!

[thelov3lybookworm]

We'll Heal

Summary: They have healed a lot in the past few years, and they will heal a lot in the ones coming.

•○●⛦●○•

Word Count: 2681

Warnings: angst, beron, eris being the tiniest bit mean but overall hes just a sweetheart, eris's brother, allusions to SA and domestic abuse, trauma. i think thats it, but if theres more i need to add, let me know!!

A/n: based on this request. i feel like i like this fic a lot cus my writing in this is so good, in my opinion 🥹 THANK YOU TO THE ANON WHO SENT ME THAT ASK ❣️❣️❣️

anyways, ENJOY🥹

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

The Vanserra brother’s scents were quite similar to each other. Y/n had learned that very quickly.

Having to hide and cower the moment her fiance arrived, she’d gotten better at scenting people.

All of them had distinct scents to the point if someone paid attention, they could figure out which one it was. But initially, it would be hard to differentiate between all the seven woody fragrances with hints of ash and sweet maple.

For example, Eris’s scent was woody, smoky, with a very light sweetness to it. Autumnus, Y/n’s fiance and the second born, his scent was very similar, but it was the slightest bit sugary. More so than all his brothers.

If there was one brother who actually had a different scent, it was Lucien. And Y/n thought she knew why.

Six of the brothers had almost the same scent, but the youngest didn’t? Y/n was not dumb. She was pretty sure Lucien was not Beron’s child, and even if Y/n was not so well versed in recognizing a person’s unique fragrance, his warm demeanour would have made it hard to believe he was.

He was by far the nicest and kindest being Y/n had ever met, but she did not know whether that was a compliment for she had not met many. Other than her father, father in law, fiance and his brothers, Y/n had no experience mingling with other fae. Being the daughter of a wealthy nobleman, she was always sheltered since the day she had been born, her purity and piousness valued above all else.

She had never even interacted with the lower fae that worked as servants for her father before he had basically sold her off to the high lord to further his position in court. Being the father of one of the brides of the high lord’s seven sons certainly came with perks he was unwilling to let go of.

He had hoped for Y/n’s betrothal to the eldest, but Beron had outright refused, so her father had had to settle for the second best.

Which was probably one of his worst decisions ever, considering Autumnus had made her life miserable and refused to let her step foot out of their private east wing.

Y/n supposed she should be glad he let her leave her room at least.

He had taken one look at her and agreed to marriage, and Y/n was aware that had Beron not forced him to court her for six months before the wedding, he would have snatched her right back to his room.

But of course, being ordered to not touch her intimately before their marriage did not deter him from seeking her out at night, when no soul would be awake to report such uncourtly behaviour or spread rumours. And as long as no one threw mud on their family name, Beron Vanserra didn’t really care what happened to the women in the palace.

Despite his… daring endeavours, Autumnus was adamant on keeping Y/n sheltered, and she had overheard a conversation between one of the other brothers and her fiance one evening where he claimed that he only wanted her to stay in the wing so no one would get any untoward ideas about harming Y/n.

How Ironic.

For all he claimed he only wished for her wellbeing and did not want to see her hurt, he sure had no qualms about putting his hands on her himself. Be it for his own sexual pleasure or sadistic desires. Y/n would never be able to understand why seeing the tears and bruises on her skin as the outcome of his actions brought him such satisfaction, nor would she ever wish to.

The sun was setting in the distance when a door close by slammed with a bang and Y/n’s shoulders tensed, already dreading the moment her bedroom door would also burst open. And then her fiance would stumble upon her. It was time for him to come anyway.

But the scent that reached her when the bedroom door creaked open was not that of her fiance’s. Surprised, she turned to greet the guest, her wide eyes meeting that of frenzied amber.

"Good evening, my lord." Despite wondering what was going on, Y/n began to drop into a curtsy.

"We do not have time for pleasantries. Hurry up."

Y/n blinked, the harshness of the oldest vanserra brother catching her off guard. "What-"

"Hurry up." Eris growled, striding towards her and grabbing her wrist.

Her blood ran cold at the force in his grasp, sweat forming on her back.

No.

Please.

Autumnus has assaulted me enough. Why is his brother doing this to me too?

Another thought crossed Y/n’s mind.

If Autumnus smells his brother on me, it’s over for me.

"What- what are you doing?! Autumnus would be furious if he catches me with you-"

"Autumnus is dead." Eris snapped, glaring at her when she refused to budge despite his insistent tugging on her hand to drag her out. It took Y/n a moment to fully understand what he was saying.

Her skin went numb. The surroundings turned mute. Her eyes lost focus, and as if her skin had lost all ability to hold her, her jaw dropped, lips parting.

"Wh- what?"

He released a frustrated exhale, his eyes falling shut. "Are you broken? Can you not say anything other than what?" When Y/n just stared at him, he growled. "No wonder you never stopped Autumnus from being his bastard self."

He dropped her hand, instead grabbing her by the shoulders and shaking her. "Listen to me carefully girl. Lucien’s lover was killed and now every other brother is out hunting him. Your betrothed is dead. The place is in chaos. There are no guards out there. I am trying to get you out of here. Okay? I am not trying to take advantage of you."

Y/n blinked, forcing herself to actually see the male in front of her. That was when her eyes snagged on the dark stains on his expensive jacket. The jacket itself was the darkest shade of maroon, yet the spots coloured by what looked like blood were discernible.

Blood.

She met his eyes. "Why are you helping me?"

His jaw clenched. "Not all of us are assholes, you know. I have sent Lucien to the spring court, and before anyone else returns to check up on you, you need to be gone."

She nodded, numb to his vice-like grip. "Can I ask you one more question?"

Eris’s lips tilted up cynically. "Of course. Would you like me to order some tea too? We can sit by the fire and chit chat? We could also bring the rest of the bothers even-"

She swallowed. "Point taken."

"Good." He snapped, eyes hard as he grabbed her hand again. "I’ll have to winnow you now." He mumbled, more to himself than to her.

And he did just that, depositing her on what seemed like the border to spring court. The thick foliage cascading down to the ground in trickling rivulets of red, orange and gold faded into the warm embrace of summoning of summer, green leaves and pink petals that looked like they’d burst with the slightest touch beckoning Y/n to come closer, to breathe in the sweetness.

Uncertain, Y/n turned to look at him.

"What now?" He questioned impatiently, gaze flitting from tree to tree, shadow to shadow.

"I-"

"Lucien or one of the high lord’s sentries will find you, if that’s what you’re concerned about."

Y/n was going to say that she had never stepped foot out of her father’s estate and then Beron’s estate, but that was a more valid concern than what she had in mind. So she dipped her head and turned away from Eris, taking steps towards the border as her stomach flipped in her tummy.

Before she took the last step and finally got rid of all ties to Autumn, she turned to look at him.

He raised a brow.

"I… I hope you get the best in life, my lord. I truly do."

His eyes softened, and he nodded at her in acknowledgement.

The moment she set foot in spring, he was gone.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

"Y/n?"

She groaned and turned away, tucking her head between her pillow and the bed.

"Go away."

She heard a chuckle, causing her to tense. The sound itself was nothing bad, but the underlying love for chaos in it had her ready to fight.

Autumnus?

Clenching her fists in the bedsheets, she peeked her eye open, and sure enough, a flash of red hair caught her eye.

He stepped closer and yanked the covers off of her, his sinister smile still on his face as he took in her cowering form, his deep chuckle causing a shiver to run up her spine.

“Time to play, bitch.”

No. Please no.

He had not listened. He’d dragged her out of her bed in the middle of the night.

The first night of many to come.

Pine and maple mixed with honey filled her lungs, and she jerked up and back, heart thumping in her throat as she squeezed her eyes shut. She pressed herself against the headboard, feeling her tears tickle her skin as they rolled down her cheeks.

She heard nothing, no movement or breaths or menacing footsteps approaching her for long moments, and she blinked her eyes open, looking around the room over her heaving chest.

The eyes staring back at her with tears in them were not amber. They were russet.

Lucien.

Lucien, not Autumnus.

She exhaled, lips parting as she took in the sadness on her husband’s face. "Lucien, I-"

He shook his head, walking closer to her and settling down next to her. "It’s okay my love. I know how hard it is." He gently grasped her fingers in his hand and pried them from the blanket, and she reluctantly released her death grip on it.

She sniffled. "I’m trying."

He smiled at her, placing a soft kiss on her forehead. "I know you are, and I’m proud of you for it."

She watched him as he placed a kiss on each of her finger tips, then her knuckles, then finally her palm before meeting her eyes. And once again, she was reminded of the fact that this was Lucien. He was not his brother.

It had been over half a century since that day Eris had dropped Y/n on the spring border, and still, everytime she had to remind herself that she was now with Lucien, not his devil of a brother.

Lucien was a devil too, just not in the sense his brother was.

When Y/n had found Lucien after entering Spring Court, bleeding and bruised, his eyes hollow but pain still oozing from every pore of his body, she had managed to pull him- even as unwilling and ready to die as he was- towards where she thought she saw some tall spires rising into the sky through the proud trees boasting the prettiest of leaves she had never seen before, sure that it would be were the high lord resided.

She could only hope that Eris had informed him beforehand and that she was not dragging herself and Lucien from one hell to another.

The high lord had accepted them with open arms though, and Y/n had not expected the lengths he went to to make them comfortable. And despite the paranoia Y/n had after her experience with one HIgh Lord, despite her scepticism and reluctance to trust Tamlin, she developed what many would call a sibling bond with him. So did Lucien.

In the aftermath of all the tragedies, Lucien had isolated himself and only Tamlin could pull him out. But one day, Y/n had had enough of waiting. She had been waiting to talk to Lucien for over a month by that point, and when he had refused to talk to her or anyone at all, she’d barged into his room.

He had finally spoken to her and revealed that it was Autumnus who had told Beron about Jesminda’s existence, hence leading to her death. And despite Y/n believing in the saying, ‘Respect the dead and remember their good’, she cursed her dead fiance all over again.

From that day onward, Lucien and Y/n had connected, becoming closer as time went, comforting each other over shared loss of loved ones, life and home.

It was only a matter of time before they decided they liked each other more than friends did.

But Y/n had never been able to forget the things Autumnus did to her. It had taken her over a decade to even let Lucien kiss her. She had thought she was getting better in recent years though.

Apparently not.

Y/n leaned close to Lucien, resting her head on his shoulder. She tried so hard to move on from her experiences with Autumn court in general,but every time something happened that reminded her even slightly of the place she had been born, all her progress seemed to wash down the drain. Each time, she would be upset, but Lucien would tell her it was fine.

It was not.

Because if it were fine, why was she not stronger? Why, when anytime Lucien grabbed her a little too hard when play fighting, when the head maid got frustrated and yelled at others who were not doing their job well, when Tamlin used his high lord voice while commanding his sentries, why did Y/n stiffen? Why did sweat trickle down her back like the cold fingers of her fiance? Why did her blood seem to stop moving in her veins?

Y/n was disappointed quite often.

"Y/n, love, you know it’s alright. I can feel your thoughts without being a daemati. You need to give yourself more credit for how far you’ve come."

Just like that, tears welled up in Y/n’s eyes again, and she snuggled closer to him, hoping he would not be able to look at her filled eyes if she made it impossible for him to look at her.

He pulled away from her grip, knowing what she was trying to do and not falling for it. "Look at me sweetheart. It’ll get better with time."

Y/n just nodded, focusing on the golden skin of his throat rather than those eyes that made her spit out anything on her mind without compulsion.

He sighed, and Y/n wished she could erase the sound from existence because it made her feel worse than she already did, knowing she hurt Lucien too when she refused to get better.

"Fifty years ao, Y/n, you could not stand to be within arm’s length of me without having shivers. Without having nightmares, you could not close your eyes. You could not talk to anyone because everyone reminded you of him.

"And now you can do so much. You organise and host events for Tamlin, you are training to be an emissary, you can hold your own against those pompous lords whose jacket buttons hold on for dear life. Tell me, what can you not do?"

That made an unexpected giggle burst from Y/n’s lips, and she looked up to find Lucien’s lips quirked to the side, his eyes glittering.

"And no, Y/n, you do not disappoint me when it all comes back to you. I am so very proud of you for even beginning to get better in the first place. Mother knows I would have been a ghost wandering the halls had I been the one who endured Autumnus and his bullshit."

Y/n pressed her forehead to Lucien’s, whimpering softly. "I love you."

She felt the air in front of her shift and settle as Lucien shuffled closer, placing his lips against her.

"And I love you. And I promise you, my love, we’ll get better."

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

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Lucien Vanserra Taglist: @mirandasidefics @tele86

[braunbakery]

I’m sorry if this is rude but would you ever write a sequel to little sparrow? Like what happens between jean and reader and Mikasa after reader confesses to him?

poison oak

☞ jean kirstein x fem reader

☞ sequel to little sparrow, word count: 3k

☞ sfw, angst angst angst, canon-verse [post aot finale.]

☞ plot: there comes a point where whatever false comfort you and jean are afforded by pretending what you said on the boat never happened hurts more than you can bear.

☞ inspired by poison oak - bright eyes

☞ poison oak

the nightmares will never truly leave.

this is something that you all know full well. know to your deepest cores as the paradis demons, the paradis survivors, the paradis warriors. heroes. it needs not to be talked about, to be acknowledged or discussed.

and yet, they seem almost worse now that you awaken to safety. now that you can awaken to the knowledge of a war victoriously won and finally over. it seems even near the calm flickering and warmth of a fire at your bedside, or the crickets chirping outside a window, your mind cannot forget. it seems easier to have a nightmare when you were living in one.

jean knows this all too well, as he remains between sleep and consciousness tossing and turning until his bedsheets are all but crumbled into a bundle on his mattress. this is the routine – one he knows that he and his friends often undergo – especially in the nights following the end of the final battle for peace.

sometimes he is a young boy again – fifteen and watching his friends be devoured by beasts beyond comprehension. sometimes he is older and wiser, but still inhabited by that same fear and dread that has followed him from his most innocent and tarnished youth just to face enemies that look just like him. sometimes there are guns and sometimes blades. sometimes he is surrounded by comrades and sometimes he is isolated and staring up at the wall that dictated his very existence until countless died to be rid of it.

and sometimes – not often, not nearly as often as he would like – his nightmares are interrupted by an ocean breeze and your blurry silhouette in front of him. back at that boat before the final stretch. you’re speaking – he can hear your voice and make out your figure moving – yet he can’t make out the words.

he doesn’t need to. he knows this scene well enough since the day it happened.

his mouth moves of its own volition and he can barely even see from this cursed blur cast onto his vision – but he knows he is clasping your shoulder and he knows what words will come next out of his mouth.

“i need to go.”

and then he is awake.

*~*

it’s easy to get wrapped up in whatever comes after the war.

months go by and you’re signing treaties and mourning and meeting officials and reinstating civilisations alongside your comrades – but it’s barely ever that you all get to be friends. no, these moments are few and in between yet when they come it is like an air of gratefulness settles into the room until once more you are all interrupted by whatever duties are bestowed upon you next.

you are somewhat thankful for this business – obviously not for the horrors of that final battle or the things witnessed and lives lost – but for this sudden political leadership you and your comrades now share. you do not have time to think of jean and your confession. sometimes thoughts of it do slip in, it is hard not to when you have to see him so often those first few months, but now it has been a year and you have all gone on to follow your respective lives.

that constant underlying ache for him has turned into an occasional sting. you love jean. you do. it is a fact written into the crevices of your soul since your youth – but you owe it to yourself to live. to torture yourself no more with thoughts of him.

(“how have you been?” he says to you in the corner of the meeting room you are all situated in. you’re both currently stood at the small make-shift coffee and tea station set up for you all and pouring yourself a cup.

“oh!” you had not realised jean had sidled up beside you, “good! um…i’m alright.”

jean’s eyes flit between both of yours and suddenly you’re filled with the same embarrassment you used to feel when you would get tangled up in your ODM gear when you were younger and jean would double over laughing at you. he brings up a hand to the back of his neck.

you both have not spoken of that day on the boat and you certainly do not plan to bring it up.

“good…” jean eventually replies, “that’s good.”

“sorry,” you blurt out, “how’re you?” jean is grinning at your perceived impoliteness.

“tired,” he candidly blurts out and now it’s your turn to beam at him.

“i think we all are,” you say, and jean nods at you until suddenly his hand is coming up towards you. closer and closer and you’re frozen to the spot, you don’t even notice that you’ve stopped breathing. all you can think of is his hand’s nearing proximity to your face until suddenly it stops right at your eye.

he lightly brushes his thumb under your eye – the sure sign of your sleepless nights. you’re looking up at him lost for words as he mindlessly stares at the slight darkness painting your undereye.

when he locks eyes with you, it’s like he has suddenly realised himself and with an all too quick motion jerks his hand away from your face and stares at the ground.

“yeah, i’d say that’s right,” he sheepishly mumbles.

you hand him the teapot and both stand in silence until you’re called back to the meeting table.

and then like a well-trained dog, whenever you catch him look at mikasa (whether sparingly, whether a glance or his utmost focus as she speaks), you stare down at your clasped hands in an attempt to no longer involve yourself in whatever wreckage jean kirstein unconsciously makes of your heart.)

sometimes he writes to you.

a meeting of the so-called ‘heroes’ has become infrequent and only once every few months. you’ve all settled in different places some far and some close. sometimes you meet without the guise of peace and restoration, and sometimes that very guise is what’s needed for you all to see each other again.

so, you resort to writing. it’s you that starts it.

you write to everyone. you want to know of their plans, of their news homes, new lives, new directions. armin writes back the most – always lengthy responses and curiosity practically emanating off the parchment paper. in the times you have all met between these letters everyone has expressed their dismay for having to sit and write (‘as much as we’ve gone through together, you know i’m not writing,’ connie quips), yet at least once a month you receive something.

this is excluding jean, who week after week has something to say back to you.

he writes of new friends, new hobbies, new places, new desire for exploration. he writes and he writes and he writes, answering every question you have and asking his own. and it’s hard not to get too wrapped in it – you are childhood friends, you are soldiers in arms. and you have only just been able to resolve the heartache from the boat into a rough reminder that only comes and goes.

so with every letter (every poorly-scrawled joke and sudden idea and ‘yours truly’) you swallow your beaming smile and read as if this were anyone of the others writing to you.

*~*

eventually you do all meet, months later, at a bar.

it’s rounds of beers and dastardly jokes and everyone chortling at connie and jean rough-housing each other like they were teenagers once more. it’s reiner being forced to chug pints with a red face as connie insist he loosen up and ‘you’re the biggest here, you need to catch up.’

jean meets your eyes as everyone cheers and all you can think is that you are so happy to see him so at ease. to no longer see him as that haunted boy on the boat. your eyes meet jeans and all he can think is that he is so happy to see you here with everyone (which includes him. here with him.)

a lull of silence falls over the table eventually and you look up at jean to find him already staring at you. you offer him a small smile, overcome by the smooth buzz of alcohol and the warmth of the bar, and he reciprocates yet neither one of you looks away.

in the depths of your mind, you can feel whatever thoughts of him you have supressed over time come crawling out once more and you wonder if you are both to go on with the rest of your lives without ever mentioning what happened that day long ago. the silence breaks and everyone’s head turns to reiner, who’s holding up his half empty glass.

“to eren,” he declares, and you can practically hear mikasa’s breath hitch in her throat from next to you. around the table you can see the slight glaze over everyone’s eye, the sudden realisation that you truly did all make it out, “and to everyone else lost.” reiner continues.

slowly but surely, everyone’s glasses are raised up to the air and you’re back to years before inspecting jean’s every move like you can practically bore your eyes through his head and read his thoughts. and as your arm is outstretched in tribute to those who should be here with you today, you realise that jean is not looking at you.

he is looking at mikasa, as a single tear slowly trails its way down her cheek. he looks and he looks and he looks, even after everyone places their drinks back on the table with a synchronous clink. everyone is sharing a sympathetic glance at her, but in your most selfish moment you stare at jean.

you slowly watch as he stretches out his hand across the table and gently clasps it over hers, offering her a consoling smile and looking at her in ways you could only dream. sometimes you think maybe this is the look he gives you, maybe this is what you see when his eyes suddenly catch yours across the room or when he had brushed his thumb under your eye or when he tells you he looks forward to your next letter. but no – the look you long for is in front of you between him and her. from him to her.

without even thinking, you clasp your hand on mikasa’s shoulder and make your way off of your chair and suddenly jean is quickly retracting his own from hers. you cannot even spare him a look. you feel so selfish, you feel so dumb. you made it through battle upon battle and monstrosity upon monstrosity yet for some reason you cannot make it through whatever you feel for jean.

“think i’m done for the night,” you blurt out, voice slightly slurred from the amount of drinks you’ve had – though you suspect everyone else’s voices are similar. through everyone’s boos and goodbye’s you can hear jean.

“what?”

but you can barely spare him a glance before you’re grabbing your coat from the back of your chair, crossing the room and leaving the bar with no hesitation.

*~*

it’s only ‘til you’re halfway down the cobblestone street where the bar is that you realise the reason you’re so uncomfortable and cold and wet is because it is raining and you forgot your damn umbrella in the bar. so swept up in thoughts of a man who doesn’t love you that now you’re standing in the middle of the street at god knows what time looking like a fool.

jean kirstein doesn’t love you.

does jean kirstein love you?

why doesn’t jean kirstein love you?

maybe you were fine with whatever lingering glance and weekly letter and small yet fleeting touch. maybe a deep most embarrassing part of your mind thought perhaps he was growing to. maybe some convoluted side of you thought that perhaps with this much effort he put into sustaining your friendship, something else could be there. maybe–

“hey!” a voice calls after you in the distance.

you instinctively turn around and of course, of course, it’s him in all of his glory standing in the rain with your folded umbrella in hand and raised towards you.

“i think you forgot something,” he says and he starts to jog towards you. when he notices your hair dripping wet and your face almost laminated as he reaches you he can’t help but laugh, “though i’m a little late.”

“thanks,” you muster out, but you can’t seem to manage to take the umbrella from him. you can’t seem to move at all. jean frowns. he knows that something is wrong, and you can tell that he knows. it’s not like you (you who insists on writing letters, on meeting every few months, on reminiscing and appreciating and loving those who have come all this way with you) to suddenly leave without another word.

“what’s wrong?” jean starts, staring down at you staring down at your shoes.

you can’t speak until suddenly a hand is lightly touching your chin and tugging your face up. you’re met with his face and you hope – you pray – that he cannot notice whatever tears may or may not have escaped and that he may think your sniffling is from spending time out in the rain and not from this sudden sadness that feels like it’s taking over your every limb.

sadness for what? for something that never was?

“i’m going to bed, jean,” you say, slightly angling your chin away from his hand which remains in mid-air despite your movement.

“tell me,” he repeats, “tell me what’s wrong.”

you stare at his wet hair that has started to stick to his forehead for a moment. for a few. until suddenly you realise that he’s begging. he’s begging. he’s begging for you to tell him…to say it. and surely by now he can tell it’s from all that time ago, when you were bearing your soul to him in what could have been your final moments alive with each other. he must know. he has to know.

it's when he slightly nods his head at you as he watches you rummage through your own thoughts that he does know. he just wants you to say it.

“you’ll never love me, will you, jean?”

“that’s–”

“jean, please,” you snap, “just be honest with me. you owe it to me.”

“i know i do, i…” he feels like he’s barely able to enunciate. barely able to keep the words pouring out of him before they even make sense in head, “i’m sorry about the boat.”

your heart is rising and falling and rising and falling and you don’t think you would’ve ever heard any acknowledgment about what happened that day for as long as you lived. you thought that despite the fact that the both have you have faced enemies larger than life, you would both have never faced that day together.

“yeah,” you barely mouth out.

“i’m sorry i didn’t say anything. i’m sorry i…i just left. i don’t know why i–” he cuts himself off with two hands up to his hair, scrunching and pulling at it like his life depends on it, “the last thing i ever wanted was to hurt you.”

“it’s a bit late for that,” you can’t help but spitefully remark. you hate what this has made you into, this bitter and sad person this heartache has rendered you into.

“i know,” he breathes, “i know. but i…” it’s like it’s paining him to speak, and it’s a miracle you can even hear each other over the raindrops colliding down onto the street beneath you. your chests are both heaving and your breath is evaporating into steam in front of you. your clothes are soaked all the way through and jean’s are certainly on the way to being the same.

“…you?” you urge.

“i think i do.”

what?

“what?”

his hands are suddenly on your shoulders and his eyes are boring into you and you can feel the steam of his breath on your cheeks.

“i think i do,” he says again, voice racing itself, “like, really really do. i know it’s mean to say this now, i know it’s selfish. but i just need time. i just need to let go, somehow.”

you can taste the salt of your tears.

“let go of her, you mean?” and jeans eyebrows scrunch at the fact that you know full well what he means. he’s always known that you’ve know – sure, he saw your reaction at the bar – he just never imagined that you’d speak it aloud. speak it aloud to him.

he swallows, “yeah.”

you’re tired, you’re so so tired.

“i’m going to bed, jean,” and you start turning and wrenching yourself out of his grasp, but his hand is now around your wrist holding you in place.

“wait,” he urgently blurts, “please.”

“jean,” you tearfully sigh. this is not the life you want to live. you did not survive for this. you did not fight and win and go on just to still have your heart dictated by jean and mikasa.

“please,” he says again, slowly.

“jean, i’ve been waiting for you for years, whether i’ve liked it or not.”

“i know–”

“and now we have no war. now we have people, we have lives. we have something more than bloodshed.”

this time, jean lets you when you carefully tear yourself out of his grasp and fully face him.

“and i’m not letting myself spend what we have now waiting.”

*~*

that night, you take your umbrella from jean and walk to the nearby inn that you have all purchased rooms in for your stay without ever opening it. you listen to your feet echo against the empty cobblestone street and thank yourself that you turned and left before you could stare at jean’s back leaving you like before.

when you get to your room, you strip off all of your clothes and leave them in a heaped damp puddle in the corner of the room, then sit at your bed alone staring out the window. the wind slightly batters against the wooden panes and you can hear its distant howl.

it’s then that you realise you are somehow still on that boat. and maybe you are cursed to never leave.

thanks for reading :) feel free to request (please something other than jean dear god)

[strangerthingsfanworkrecs]

Artist Highlight: Jo-Harrington

This week, we're highlighting @jo-harrington! All recs this week will be for her work. @jo-harrington writes for the Stranger Things Fandom, with a special focus on xOC, and xReader fics. She's also a great beta-editor and design all the graphics for her fics! We're highlighting Jo for her incredible world building and strong OCs.

You should check out her Store Manager Verse fics for some great fluff and top-tier retail angst Jo answered some questions about her creative process and her work under the cut

Why Stranger Things?

I’ve been an avid ST Fan since the beginning. My old Store Manager and I watched the first episode in the backroom of our store while folding t-shirts and rest was history. Fic-wise, a certain Metalhead Dungeon Master brought me out of a fanfiction posting hiatus and I haven’t looked back since.

What's your favorite ship (platonic or romantic) to create for?

Platonic is always going to be the Hellfire Club boys. I love writing their adventures. Their friendship is epic and deserves to be explored and celebrated. Romantic…EddiexOC or EddiexReader. I mean, I’ve been an xOC girl since my first fandom. xReader is new for me but it’s almost an extension of xOC. I always joke that I’m allowed ONE epic borbo obsession love of my life per decade and I’ll give them one canon pairing but the rest are OCs.

What's your typical writing process like?

I have an idea, I write it down, I get sick of working on a chapter, I don’t edit, I post. (Which is funny because when I beta, I am a lot more detailed. But for my own work I just need it out of my head.) It might not be the best. It could probably read better or have less typos or mistakes. But it’s always from the heart.

How do you come up with your OCs?

I sit there for a long time and figure out how I can put a part of myself into a story. Oops was I not supposed to say that? Sometimes you think of a character that you just can’t help but want to write. But even if they aren’t a manifestation of your physical self or your personality, they almost always end up being an extension of you in some ways, or something you aspire to be. You also need to add some attributes you hate into them, so that they’re not too perfect and you can throttle them around and make them suffer and not feel too bad/let it become a self hatred thing.

What has been your favorite project so far? Why?

Store Manager Verse. (EMxReader) Retail is who I am and who I’ve always been. I had a mall romance irl that went south. So it was a way to rewrite my past with my comfort character…and also give said comfort character a happy ending as well.

What has been your hardest project so far? Why?

As Above, So Below. (EMxOC) It is a passion project, it is a beast, every chapter takes an emotional toll on me and it takes a month—if not more—to recover. But it has been the single most fulfilling project that I’ve worked on in the 20 years I’ve been writing fanfiction. I've been working on it for about 2 years now. 3 more chapters til the end…I’m gonna be very sad when it’s over.

Have you ever had a creative block? How did you get over it?

My brain is just a beehive that I shake every now and again to get the bees angry. Honestly, the bigger block I get into is self-doubt. I have no problem finding the words, it’s the courage to put them to paper I struggle with at times.

Is there a big source of inspiration for you? Books? Art? Games?

Yes all of the above. But in all seriousness, life experience is the best inspiration. There’s only so much research you can do. Truly for me, the canon characters are the source of inspiration. Then I take from things I’ve done, things I’ve read, places I’ve been in order to take an idea to a fully formed plot.

Is there an upcoming project you're particularly excited about?

Eddie Munson Big Bang. I know you’re gonna hear that a lot. I love creating really ambitious AUs and I think this one is really testing my abilities as a writer. It's a crossover fic, in a way, but with a lot of original plot folded in. I hope I do both fandoms/universes justice.

Is there anything we didn't ask that you'd like to add?

I’m from the Midwest, so thank you for listening to all of my long-winded answers. Haha.

[atiny-for-life]

Creative Spotlight #1: Kim Hongjoong

Masterlist

Intro: With so many new Atinys coming in, I figured now would be a good time to shed some light on all the boys' creative solo projects over the years, big and small.

Photography

Hongjoong's love for photography goes way back to his predebut days. In one of the first videos ever uploaded to their channel, you can already see him holding a camera on the set of Pirate King.

2 years ago, in 2022, he got to announce his first photo exhibition, FROM NOVEMBER 7, 1998, as a birthday present to himself, which took place from November 1st to 7th at gallery99 and was used to collect money for charity.

There was no entrance fee but spots had to be reserved online to ensure there'd be no dangerous crowding. During the exhibition, there was a little event planned for all attendees in which fans could collect points which were then converted to money that was later donated under Hongjoong and Atiny's name. The total donated amount was 10 million won!

In Logbook Episode 101, we got to see Hongjoong visit the exhibition himself and take a stroll through memory lane.

Due to the success of the 2022 exhibition, Hongjoong held another one last year which took place between November 3rd and 9th, 2023, and was titled A Walker - the event was accompanied by the release of an original song and led to the donation of 50 million won under Hongjoong's and Atiny's name to the Korea Childhood Leukemia Foundation.

BY. HONGJOONG

Back in 2018, Hongjoong shared during their stay in LA as KQ Fellaz, that he barely went to school since he already started producing music during his high school days. And yes, this is during the same tear jerking monologue where he calls Ateez his family for the first time and says he needs to hurry so he can see their sleeping faces before he goes to bed.

The first time we get to see Hongjoong fully in action as a producer is during his first 1-Day-Vlog in 2020 in which he's working on his Prince cover (more on that in a second).

But now to the main event: Hongjoong has an entire series going where he covers some of his all time favorite songs. Whenever he does, he likes to make the songs his own by recording his own instrumental track and typically adding an additional Korean rap verse with self-written lyrics highlighting his interpretation of the song's message.

Kicking things off with Space Oddity by David Bowie, a classic.

Side Note: As a lover of unisex clothing/androgyny, Hongjoong is likely not just inspired musically by Bowie, but also fashion wise. You can learn more about Bowie's influence on the climate surrounding gender and sexuality here.

Dressed in white, matching both his hair and the background, Hongjoong turned himself into a clean canvas on which he projected first footage of Bowie and later some floating orbs - it's very aesthetic.

Between the original verses and chorus, he placed a Korean rap verse in which he writes from Major Tom's perspective and laments his mental state while stuck alone in outer space, asking ground control to tell his mom he loves her while stating he still appreciates the beauty of space but feels lost and lonely all by himself.

Next up, we've got Purple Rain by Prince, another classic.

Side Note: Like Bowie, Prince too was famous for being androgynous in how he presented himself and toying with what society deemed masculine and feminine. He's famous to this day among the queer community for how persistently he defied gender norms and labels. Learn more about him here.

Instead of filming himself, we get a lyric video this time, fully kept in pastel lavender. Once again, Hongjoong added a rap verse of his own in which he speaks to a lost friend, talking about how he hopes that, even though they're apart now, his friend will still recall him as being sincere and that they can still think of each other fondly and remember the good times.

In a far more elaborate production, we've got Black or White by Michael Jackson up next.

Using green screen and multiple outfits, we get a fun spectacle of a little passion project featuring multiple versions of Hongjoong, background collages, emojis, and more:

Despite being shorter than the other covers, we still get the signature rap verse preceded by his famous giggle and, this time, he's got quite a bit to say.

Diving into the lyrics, he talks about how we're all different colors. Colors which are meant to be mixed. Our roots don't define us. Throughout life, we'll all get mixed up with each other, as we should. He doesn't want to see us divided. To quote: "What's wrong with you, babe? Stop it. You've already experienced the 20th century. Blah blah by dividing groups."

The song ends with the rap verse before the video dives into the making of in which Hongjoong specifically addresses his intent to talk about social issues like Michael Jackson famously used to while he was alive (think: They Don't Really Care About Us).

So long time by Yoon Jong Shin comes next with a sepia-toned video featuring Hongjoong at a grand piano. It's a pretty ballad highlighting his vocals and the use of multiple camera angles allows us to watch him play.

Shortly before we hit the 2 minute mark, Hongjoong gets up and we transition from the shot of the piano to a cassette player while the audio shifts to the original for a moment before Hongjoong returns.

We've reached the rap verse where he mourns a lost love, speaking of memories he can't let go of, even as he pretends everything is okay. He's cold and lonely now, a little mad at himself for continuously getting lost in the memories, and calls himself a fool before we return to the cover-part of the song.

At 3:58, the song wraps up and we've reached the making of section of the video where he talks about how his cover stems from the idea of a time machine taking you through the song, with the first verse (playing the piano) being the past, the rap verse symbolizing the present, and the memories then taking back over as he gets lost in them, leading to the piano's return.

Next up, we've got Last Christmas by Wham! which opens to a short clip of Hongjoong's acting on a pretty Christmas film set before we transition to a simple white back drop.

This time, the signature rap verse comes in early at 50 seconds with a little giggle before he talks about leaving the past in the past and moving on, letting the snow settle over painful memories.

However, this time, we also get a second rap verse at 1:45, where it becomes clear he hasn't moved on at all, plus a Korean vocal section at 2:43 which carries through to the end. Here, he highlights even further that he hopes they'll reconnect next winter so they can leave the painful past behind and live out a shared future.

Hongjoong in his emo era. This is the first Ateez-related video I've ever seen because I was born in '96 and my emo phase never ended so of course this was recommended to me when it was first released.

Numb by Linkin Park got the full Hongjoong treatment and was even reported on by Rolling Stone, quote:

The cover began trending on social media and YouTube within hours of its release, but the true prize came a day later when it caught the attention of Linkin Park themselves. The rock band’s official Twitter account ‘liked’ the post on ATEEZ’s page, with co-founder and vocalist Mike Shinoda confirming on a livestream that he’d seen and enjoyed the cover. As of this writing, Hongjoong’s version of “Numb” has over half a million views on YouTube and has garnered tremendous praise from Linkin Park’s fans.

We get the black eye makeup and nail polish, the plaid half skirt, the dramatic music video with fake fog and red lighting. The rap verse comes in hard, talking about getting mentally weighed down by an abuser and finally breaking free, cutting the ties.

As a long time Linkin Park fan, I love how unique this cover is and Chester would've loved it too I'm sure. I wish he could've seen it.

Fools Garden's Lemon Tree is another classic and I come back to it on the regular because the video has such a unique vibe and the song is famous for getting stuck in your head.

The video features Hongjoong alone in a house surrounded by colorful toys and games, bored out of his mind and visibly seeking a distraction from life but failing to find something, no matter how out of pocket his thinking gets.

Shoutout to the license plate - it's the release date of the song, November 3rd, 1995.

At 1:33, Hongjoong sprints off to the basement which is doused in red and we get a warped version of his signature giggle before the rap verse kicks in. The camera work in this section reminds me a bit of his rap verse in Not Okay.

While down there, he gets more and more deranged, talking about being locked up day by day, imprisoned, losing track of time, but being unable to break out. Instead of trying to escape, he just attempts to distract himself, listening to sad songs on a loop until his pain disappears and his world switches back to yellow.

Busking Event

In 2021, Hongjoong decided to put together a busking event featuring live performances of some covers, plus acoustic versions of some of their songs. Accompanying him were both Ateez and Maddox. You can find the full playlist here:

Collaboration

3 months ago, Chungha made a return to the music scene after escaping her former label and chose Hongjoong as a collaboration partner for her new debut. Beyond his rap verse, she also incorporated a move from Crazy Form in the choreography (she's lovely):

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Giant moon goddess in one piece?

-It was an unusually calm night, there was no wind, and no waves, the Sunny was completely still under the bright moonlight. But that just made for perfect conditions for a drinking party!

-Plenty of drinks and booze, music, dancing and just having fun, the Straw Hats were enjoying themselves, having a rare calm moment.

-A large shooting star streaked across the sky and they all called out in amazement before calling out their various wishes, money, more food, more drink, adventures, cotton candy, and more.

-They weren’t expecting the start to suddenly change course, turning sharply and charged towards them, making many of them scream out in fear.

-The star hit hard into the ocean before them, causing a massive wave to hit the ship, one that nearly had it tipping over if it hadn’t been for Franky’s failsafe, to keep it from tipping.

-Luffy ran to the edge of the ship, seeing the bright glow under the waves, and his eyes widened as it got closer and closer, as if it was surfacing.

-A large pair of hands, ones that seemed to be even more massive than the largest giant, Oars, picked up the ship, to keep it from rocking as a massive figure emerged from the water.

-Long flowing hair that seemed to shine like the moon itself, dark colored eyes that looked to house stars, and a soft, sweet smile against milky white skin- you were stunning.

-Gaping mouths and wide eyes were all that you had seen across the ship as you smiled, lowering it back into the water as you shrunk down, “Forgive me if I startled you- I heard you all calling out and I thought you were calling out to me.”

-Brook immediately bowed at the waist, in awe of you, “May I see your panties?!” before several of them whacked him on the head, disciplining him.

-You didn’t seem bothered, lowering yourself a bit more as Sanji had hearts for eyes, telling you how beautiful you were, as Luffy had stars for eyes, “Who are you?!”

-His enthusiasm was refreshing, and it made you smile, “My name is Y/N- I am a moon goddess.” They all seemed stunned at your words, as they had dealt with ‘gods’ before, but there was something different about you- something ethereal, unearthly.

-Jinbei, being well versed, gave you a toothy grin, “I often heard tales about how a moon goddess could be seen on calm nights. Seems like it’s not a tale after all!”

-You smiled softly, giving him a small nod, “You are correct young one, I like to spread my wings and fly on clear nights, as I like how the sparkling lights dance on the calm waters below.”

-Jinbei seemed a bit flustered, being called young one, as if he were a child, but if you were a moon goddess, you were way older than he was.

-The Straw Hats welcomed you to their party, despite not being able to accommodate you for food or drink, but you didn’t mind- you just enjoyed being included.

-Zoro and Sanji showed off for you, using their combat skills to fight one another, at least until it got serious and Nami had to punch them, sending them both to the ground, “Knock it off!!”

-Chopper was initially scared of you, since you were so large, but he quickly learned that you were very gentle and kind, despite your massive size.

-Robin and Franky both asked you questions, mostly about the past, wanting to know if you had seen technology and civilizations of the past, “I have seen many things come and go- as much as it pains me to say but nothing lasts forever. But I always enjoy watching you humans build and discover- it’s never the same each time.”

-Usopp was bragging to you, trying to make himself feel big in your eyes, but he didn’t need to, as you found him amusing on his own.

-Luffy was so warm, so welcoming, there was something about him, something special but also familiar. A flash of someone crossed your mind for a moment, a bright smile on his face and your eyes softened, happy to feel his warmth once again.

-As the moon began to set and sun began to rise you rose out of the water, showing your long flowing dress that looked to be black with jewels littering it, almost like the night sky, “My time is coming for us to say goodbye until we meet again.”

-They all cheered up at you, calling out to you, thanking you for the evening and you smiled softly, “And thank you all. It was nice to meet new friends, as well as an old one.” As you said this, you looked at Luffy, who was confused, wondering what you had meant.

-You parted with another smile, floating up before taking off into the sky, rejoining the stars before streaking across the sky once more, like a shooting star.

-They all looked at Luffy, wondering if he knew what you meant by an old friend. His hands came to his hips, a big smile on his face as he laughed warmly. They all smiled, a bit exasperated with their captain, it seemed only he knew the secret, for now.

[aramynx]

ALL IS FAIR IN LOVE AND WAR

KATSUKI BAKUGO X READER

You and Katsuki have known each other since middle school, and have always notoriously been at each others' throats as naturally gifted students. Things take a frustrating turn when you both end up at UA, as those darned teenage hormones begin to run high...

a/n: this part was super fun to write out! i've loved this mini-series a lot but i'm glad to be moving on to something else :))

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* *.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* *.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*

previous • part 6 [the end....] •

"I know I said I'd come get you tonight but the hag is insisting that you come over before we go."

You sat on the edge of your bed, reading the message Katsuki had just sent you. Tonight you were going on your first date with your unofficial-official boyfriend- it was slightly nerve racking, thinking of Katsuki in such an unfamiliar context. After all, you had never even seen Katsuki take the slightest interest in a girl before; you had no idea what he was going to be like in a romantic setting. It seemed he was going all out for this, since he asked you to wear something formal. You were nervous about that in particular, considering Mitsuki and Masaru were both very well-versed in fashion... and now Mitsuki wanted to see you before you went out.

"I'll come over when I'm done getting ready." You texted back, putting your phone down gently before digging out your best outfit to wear on your date.

It had been a little while since you had worn something so fancy- but you were feeling good about yourself. You fixed your hair, smiling confidently at yourself in the mirror before picking your phone back up and heading over to Katsuki's. Once you stepped outside you regretted not layering up a little more- the evening breeze was chilly, but you figured you'd better not keep them waiting any longer.

You reached the house, raising your hand to knock on the door three times, to which Masaru opened the door for you. He was smiling brightly as he welcomed you, his voice drowned out by the sound of Mitsuki and Katsuki yelling at each other. Masaru brought you through to the living room, offering you a seat on the couch.

"It's good to see you again, Y/N, how have you been?" Masaru smiled, sitting down across from you.

"I've been good, I'm a little nervous about tonight." You admitted.

Katsuki's parents had always been so welcoming when you and Izuku had come over back in middle school- they were basically like a second family to you. It was easy to talk to them about things, especially things that were hard to bring up with your own parents.

"Don't worry, Katsuki has a soft spot for you, although I'm sure you know that by now." He chuckled slightly, his eyes snapping across the room as Mitsuki appeared from the stairs.

Her eyes lit up as she dashed towards you, pulling you into a hug.

"Y/N! You look amazing!" She said happily, her hands on your shoulders as you smiled back at her in response.

"Oi, leave her alone. We need to go." Katsuki said, appearing from around the corner.

Katsuki was all dressed up in a nice white shirt and black formal jacket, although lacking a tie (of course), with black trousers that were just a little bit baggy around his feet that sported his scuffed up black boots. He looked towards you, hands sweating profusely in his pockets as a light blush dusted his cheeks. He thought you looked amazing- he hadn't seen you in something like this in a long time, and boy oh boy did you look good. You smiled, muttering a small excuse me to Mitsuki and Masaru as you walked over to the oh-so-handsome Katsuki, ready to head out.

"Hey! I want a picture before you go, so look over here and smile!" Mitsuki called out, her phone at the ready, face beaming with the proudest smile.

You obliged, standing beside Katsuki as he slipped a hand around you and onto your waist for the photo. You smiled towards Mitsuki for a few moments before she lowered her phone, allowing you and Katsuki to leave. Mitsuki opened the picture up on her phone, looking gleefully at her little brat of a son, who although hadn't smiled for the photo, was glancing down at his date, absolutely smitten.

You hooked your arm into Katsuki's, subtly bringing yourself into his warmth as he led you towards the restaurant he had picked out.

"You look great tonight, Katsuki." You said, glancing up at his focussed expression.

"Don't go getting all soft on me, it's weird." Katsuki said, smirking a little as he teased you, "You look good too, dumbass..."

You smiled, knowing full well that Katsuki was trying to hide his nervousness behind that tough exterior. The two of you continued walking a little further into town until you reached an upscale restaurant, where Katsuki had made a reservation for the two of you. The food was good, although you had no idea how much it cost- Katsuki had refused to even let you look. You didn't linger at the restaurant any longer than you needed to- once you and Katsuki had finished your drinks, you both decided the atmosphere of the restaurant was too stuffy for you.

That's how you found yourselves here, walking through a quiet park in the moonlight.

"Fancy restaurant food is good, but I still wanna try your cooking one day." You smiled, attached to his arm as you had been before.

"Yeah yeah, whatever." He said, brushing off the idea, knowing damn well that Mitsuki would do nothing but tease him about it.

"Seriously! I wanna try it." You insisted, looking up at him with a slight pout.

Katsuki rolled his eyes, ignoring your request and staying silent. A chilly breeze whisked past, causing you to shiver slightly due to your impractical outfit choice that night. He noticed. Katsuki removed his hands from his pockets, your arms falling from where they had resided wrapped around his as he took off his jacket, draping it over your shoulders. His white sleeves were already rolled up- they probably had been all night, putting an arm around you as he began to lead you back out of the park.

"Come on, dumbass. I'm taking you home before you catch a cold." He scoffed, his newly-exposed skin forming goosebumps in the chilly air.

"Wow, your dad was right, you do have a soft spot for me." You teased, leaning into his shoulder as you walked by his side.

"Shut up, no I don't." He said, looking away from you slightly.

On the way back, Katsuki took a left turn rather than a right, leading you into a small convenience store that was about to close, dragging you swiftly over to the bouquets of flowers. He assessed the different options for a few moments, thinking carefully before picking up a fresher looking bundle- some of the flowers still hadn't bloomed yet.

"These are your favourites, right?" Katsuki asked, seeing confirmation from you as she showed them you. They were. He remembered, even though you don't recall ever telling him. You nodded and he quickly took you over to the counter to pay for them, handing them to you once you left the store.

You smiled, holding the bouquet carefully as Katsuki walked beside you, his hands now back in his pockets. You were feeling... bold, and maybe... you could advance things a little more. As you walked, you held your hand out for him by your side, hoping he would take it.

"The hell are you doing?" Katsuki asked, looking down at your outstretched hand.

"Offering to hold hands, duh." You said, still offering your hand.

"My sweat's gonna rub off on you." He said, averting his gaze as he pulled his hand from his pocket, but not bringing it towards yours.

"So? It's not like I haven't been exploded before." You said, reaching back and intertwining his hand with yours.

Katsuki blushed, hidden by the dim lighting of the street you were walking down. He watched you smile at the flowers he had given you, the sight of you all dressed up for him, and now you were wearing his jacket and holding his hand... This was one of the best things ever- you were one of the best things ever.

Seeing you like this now, he was glad that spiky-haired loser made him talk to you again.

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taglist: @sikuthealien @bitchyfestivalbouquet @marsoverthestars

[andy-wm]

3D by JK (feat. JH) - my take.

Ok, unpopular opinion maybe, and I might get my ass beaten for this (not in a good way 🤣)

Feel free to disagree RESPECTFULLY.

Disclaimer: If anyone comes at me with that cancel bullshit I will block you, because we all get to have an opinion.

If my post enrages you, scroll past until you can be civil, then come back and talk. Or block me. I dont mind.

And don't tell me that because I don't love this song I have to hand in my ARMY card... I'm not going to.

🙂💜🙂

I'll start by saying I love JK so, so much. Adore him. Will always support him.

But for me, 3D is a misstep.

My feeling is Hybe should have reconsidered releasing it as it is.

JK's lyrics are fun and sexy. The innuendo is on point. The melody is great and the chorus has excellent sing-along value. Even though I'm not a huge pop music fan, I like the vibe.

The MV dancers are awesome, and I got a kick out of the fire hydrant metaphor.

And in that jacket with nothing under it, JK looks hot enough to melt asphalt.

However....

Including Jack Harlow's rap IMO is a mistake. It sucks, frankly. Not in a good way.

It not only misses the mark on the tone of the rest of the song but his lyrics are really just offensive. Misogynistic. And racial refrences are just... not cricket. It's 2023 not 1995, regardless of what his hairstyle tells you.

His lyrics sound like an incel bragging about their sex life when all they've ever done is watch porn. From his words, I doubt he knows how to please any person but himself.

His message is gross, but its still just... generic. Like he went to urban dictionary for spicy language and then googled how to treat women like shit. There's nothing original about what he's saying. He's not even being gross in an intersting way. It's gross AND boring.

(Jack, if you're reading this, sorry my guy you gotta do better.)

I've been army since 2018 and this is the first BTS song I have tried to find merit in and given up.

I honestly tried to be into it and i just... can't. It doesn't sit well with me.

This is a new experience for me because even when BTS release something i don't immediately love, i still stream and watch and let it sink in, or I work on figuring out what I am missing and why it's ACTUALLY good even if i can't grasp it.

This... it's just... not good, in my opinion.

I have to clarify here...

It isn't about explicit content, i am totally down for that. If anyone read my post on Seven, they will know my response to that song. In a nutshell, I believe all adults who want to, should happily and shamelessly be doing ALL the horizontal tango. Every type, every day, in every way. With anyone and everyone they fancy as long as all parties are informed and consenting adults who are equally enjoying the experience.

Yes. I am all about getting down.

That doesn't mean treating your partners like a body count or using and abusing them with no consideration. That's not cool.

**PSA: please be safe and use protection. Get tested regularly if you have multiple partners. Don't do anything you don't feel good about and dont stay with partners who harm or manipulate you 💜**

Now, back to the smut.

Some criticisms i saw of Seven were about how dirty it was. A few people were upset because JK said fuck, and because he sang about how and when he liked to fuck. But more criticism was levelled at Letto. Why?

It seemed like it was because she's a woman, singing about sex.

Letto totally owns her sexuality and she knows what she wants. I snorted with delight at how deliciously filthy her lyrics were. Some very clever wordplay made her verse so visceral, and pretty shocking to the pearl-clutchers, without her ever saying anything directly. I really enjoyed it.

She was telling us straight up how good she is in bed. Good for her. She totally rocks. And she wasn't disrespecting anyone. She didn't need to do that to make herself cool AF.

The difference between Letto's rap and jack harlow's is that jack sounds like he's just looking at the women he's singing about as a hole to stick his dick in. Women have fought for long enough for equality and respect. They don't need this bullshit. You can sing about getting down, and you can be absolutely filthy and nasty and wild, and you can do it without degrading your partners.

I did read a theory about this song being social commentary on toxic masculinity. You can find it here and you can read it below:

Its not bad as a theory. At least it wouldn't be if Namjoon or Yoongi or Hobi - or Jungkook himself - had written the song. If that were the situation we'd see some inkling of self awareness in the rap, and maybe a hint of character development. But there's none.

Sorry ARMY, this is not the class of lyricism we have come to expect.

If jack is trying to make a social statement^*, or play a character, he is not succeeding in showing any growth or humanity at all. He's really just that stereotype.

In the last few lines, after he offers to fly his victim from Korea to Kentucky, he says "and you ain’t gotta guarantee me nothing I just wanna see if I get lucky."

How considerate...

All I see is zero care factor about the actual person he's trying to get with. Which is quite different from JK's lyrics, which show awareness that he's interacting with a conscious, living human being, not a piece of furniture.

jack follows with "I just wanna meet you in the physical and see if you would touch me"

Ugh. Not with a ten foot pole, douchebag.

And how about, in his first verse "All my ABGs get cute for me"

Good god, really? Is he seriously saying this?

So its a no for me.

The ONLY saving grace is that there's an alternative version which is pretty fun. It's almost as if Hybe knew we would hate the version with jack harlow. Wow, such insight!

Now, i know that's not the only reason they made an alternative. They needed a clean version for US radio play (let's be real, what possible other purpose can this song serve? *°)

But they could have censored jack's... actually they couldn't. The rap verses can't be salvaged. They genuinely have no merit, the only hope for the song is totally removing them.

What does that tell you?

ARMY will no doubt still chart the main track but personally, I would feel morally compromised if i supported that version. So I'll stick to the alternative and hope for better things to come.

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

^* Stylecaster doesnt think so either. I visited their website to check thr lyrics. They said, of D3, "Meanwhile, Jack Harlow brings the cool with his two verses as he raps about all the women he could pull"

Uh, really? I hope that's intended to be ironic.

*° The MV had only 4.5million views after 12 hours. And we know what brilliant strategists Hybe employs. I am travelling in Korea right now. There was no promo visible here. And it was no accident that it was released at lunchtime on Chuseok - the biggest famiily holiday of the year - when relatively few people in Korea would be available to engage with it. THEY KNEW IT WAS A STINKER.

[dont-offend-the-bees]

Charles/ the cat king and your 22nd song please

Song 22: Six Days in June by The Fratellis Look. This is FIRST wrapped song fic request I got, anon. And it was such a GOOD song, and I wrote the first section, and the first section was so good I got scared the rest of the fic wouldn't live up to it. I know this is a short and weird rarepair hatesex to non-hate sex unrequited love song-inspired one shot but it's also lowkey my magnum opus. So THANK YOU. Don't worry too much about the background, this is set very loosely in canon-verse, in some prospective alternate reality season 2/3 where Edwin is having his hot boy summer and discovering himself and Charles is trying to figure out his own feelings in probably a not super well thought out way. CW for mild but non-explicit sexual content/themes. 2.5k, unrequited love, background endgame Payneland, angst. Enjoy 💛 Also on Ao3

“You think you're all that, yeah?”

“Oh, sweetheart, I know I am. You want my references? Or did you want me to prove it some other way?”

You're playing a dangerous game, batting at that loaded pistol in his ribs. You don't know him well (yet, yet), but you know a man who loves with his whole chest when you see one. It's in the knuckles; bloody from holding on.

His jaw tics. “Go on, then.” He squares up. “Show us what you've got.”

Your smile cuts. “Alright.” You brace for impact. “Let’s dance.”

The first time, is… well. Let's just say it isn't your finest work. Finesse is not what this guy's coming to you for, after all. He's here to prove a point. Prove to you — or himself — that you're full of shit. That you're all talk. That you don't deserve to touch his little BFF with a ten foot pole (or a ten inch di— y’know what? No. Too easy).

And it may not be your best, but by god, you do not give him the satisfaction of being right on that count.

Weeeellllll, he's inexperienced. You can blow his mind with, what? Forty percent effort? Sixty, tops.

He's just the cutest shade of pink when he leaves, shrugging angrily back into his little retro jacket, all ruffled and indignant.

“Satisfied with my credentials, yet, officer?” you drawl.

His ear tips are dark, his collar jerked up around his blushing throat as he stalks away. “Shut up.”

Your laughter follows him out of the cannery, echoing off the high warehouse walls. “Call me!”

It's a joke, obviously. This was a fun little tumble, a chance to knock Mr. Righteous Protector down a peg and have some pretty passable sex in the process. Nothing more or less than that.

Except obviously the joke sailed right over his head, because he turns up like a bad penny a few days later with some more poor judgment to spend on you.

Fortunately for him, you’re not short on that, either.

“So has my score improved, or…?”

He huffs, hunting around for his left loafer where it skittered under the bed. “Piss off, cat. Was just… checking.”

“Checking, riiiiight. Y’know, if you need a second opinion, you could always invite Ed—”

The right loafer flies through the air and kicks you in the face.

“See you next time, then.”

“Not gonna be a next time.”

“Mm-hmm…”

“...Zip it, Whiskers.”

“Charming as ever. Won’t you come on in.”

Since three times is a pattern, that’s about when you stop doubting he’ll show up again, and again, and again. And that you’ll let him in every damn time; or at least when you’ve got nothing better to do.

Terrible idea, honestly. You give it a week.

You never see him for more than an hour or so.

You never see him in any mood besides pissed the fuck off.

And above all, you never see what the hell it is Edwin sees. The boy with the easy smile, the loyal knight in shining loafers. The best friend, the right hand man, the big, soppy puppy heart that a nice boy like Edwin couldn't help but fall for. No, no you don't get that.

You just get what's left over. The claws he never hones because he’d sooner sink them into his own stomach than leave his mark on anyone else. The parts he's too ashamed to show to anyone he gives a damn about; a category you most assuredly do not fall into. But hey, that's fine. A person like you can't be too careful about who you start fucking.

You can't go around screwing anyone who's nice to you — god only knows what ideas you'll come away with!

(That's not to say he isn't nice, of course.)

(Unfortunately he is, despite his best efforts. God, it can never be just a hatefuck with some people — it has to be worried eyes, trembling hands, little gruff check-ins on your wellbeing when you're trying to get fucking railed.)

(You try and focus on it for the boner-killer it is; and not for the sweet, unconscious thoughtfulness of a guy who holds the heart of the man you love precisely because he couldn’t handle it roughly if he tried. No, no, you shove that thought as far away as you can push it.)

(Dangerous thought to entertain, for a guy like you; a guy with his heart on a hair trigger.)

He shows up when he likes; or when he needs. When his skin is too tight and he needs an outlet for that electricity in his ectoplasm. He kisses you like it’s a contest; and you're nothing if not competitive.

He’s not running the show, though. Nuh-uh. You only kiss him back when you like. Or when you need.

The fact you haven’t turned him down once yet is purely coincidental.

He's got you on your back — and you've got him on your hips. Pretty standard. You’ve done this dance enough to have a few favourite positions locked in; and this one gives you a hell of a view.

He’s looking pretty comfy up there — eyes closed, head thrown back, riding it out — and you like to keep him on his toes, so you give him a little shake, bucking like a bronco, laughing at his surprised face when he falls forward, when he catches himself on your chest and stares down at you with wide eyes and that little annoyed scrunch forming in his brow.

Then the line smooths, he squints, laughs — smiles. At point blank fucking range.

You take the hit. Right between the eyes.

You never stood a chance.

You’ll look back on that as the day he snuck his hand through your ribs and clicked the safety off.

He shows up when he likes. When he needs. Sometimes, increasingly, when he’s bored.

“How can you be bored again?” you grouse, fingers attacking his belt. “Don’t you have like a cute mystery-solving husband to bother?”

He scowls. He’s been doing that less and less lately — you’d forgotten how out of place it looks on his lips. “He’s not my… Edwin’s out,” he says, flatly.

“Out where?”

Oof, now that’s a chilly little silence. And a very, very loud one.

“Let me guess,” you drawl, dragging his zipper down tooth by tooth. “You’re not the only one gettin’ some tonight.”

He grabs your face and kisses you, hard.

More reliable than telling you to shut your big mouth.

“See you next time.”

It’s an old familiar exchange, an automatic call-and-response. You wait, palm metaphorically outstretched for the return, the denial, the brush-off.

He slips through the mirror without giving it to you.

You laugh. “Brat.”

Always leave ‘em wanting more.

He kisses words out of your mouth. He crashes into you like a wrecking ball. He throws it all down like a gauntlet, the fucking, the being fucked. He grasps and grinds, scratches and squeezes, lets those little claws out of their casings.

And those big brown eyes find your face every goddamn time. Like he’s watching you, like he sees you; like somewhere along this stupid, fucked-up little journey, he started caring. Caring what you like, caring what makes you snarl and scream, caring about how deep he can sink his claws before the blood wells.

(No, it can never be just a hatefuck with some people.)

(God fucking dammit.)

You’ve got him on his back, this time; and he’s got you on his fucking nerves, right where you like to be.

“Look, leave off, yeah?” he snaps.

“You sure?” You roll your body, feeling the electric tickle of those ghostly hands where they press into the dip of your spine, pinning you close. “Kinda getting mixed signals.”

“Y’know what I mean,” he grumbles, jaw twitching, avoiding your eyes.

You sigh, and fold your arms on his chest. Relaxed, non-confrontational. Idle hands, idle motions. Like you’re just sunning yourself and not, y’know, in flagrante delicto, as Edwin might charmingly put it.

Ah, there he is, again.

Damn ghosts. Always lurking in the corner.

“Look, I am not here to be your therapist,” you drawl, waving your spoon in a lackadaisical manner. “I’m just saying, from experience, little friendly advice: dick isn’t gonna solve all your problems. Not even my dick.”

He sits there, shirtless, cross-armed and endearingly grumpy (god, when did he start hanging around, instead of dipping before the sweat can cool?), his nose wrinkled up at your can of tuna. You roll your eyes.

“You can’t even smell,” you snidely remind him.

“Still mingin’. Wouldn’t kick you out of bed for eatin’ crisps, but this…” He shakes his head — and catches up to what you were saying. “And I don’t need your friendly advice.”

There was a very brusque, British-y compliment in there, somewhere, and you pause to pick it up and admire it. You’re a bit of a collector.

“Coulda fooled me.” You suck the spoon into your mouth, with relish, enjoying the way he grimaces and squirms as you withdraw it with a slow, exuberant pop. “Mm. Now, that’s the good stuff.”

“Does this have a point, or what?”

“The point, you little pest, is that I know what I want, and I go for it.” The compass of your spoon wavers, rocks. “And what I want is, oh, nothing extravagant. Good food. Good sleep. Good sex. Maybe someone around to help handle that last one, someone, oh, I don’t know… someone tall. Handsome. Cute smile, cute accent. Pulse optional.”

You let the ever-present spectre of Edwin Payne fill in the shape you paint; while the spoon settles on the true north right between Charles shitting-goddamn-fucking Rowland’s eyes.

He scoffs; mulishly, adorably oblivious. “You decided you loved him in, what, a week?”

You snatch the spoon back upright, and flick it like a tennis racquet. “And how long’d it take you?”

He shuts his mouth after that.

Maybe, one of these goddamn centuries, you’ll learn how to shut yours.

It ebbs and flows, the shape of your arrangement.

In the wake of that conversation it gets a little spiky for a while, just like the good old days; baring teeth and raising welts.

Then you get back to yourselves, a bit — the new versions that actually, against all the odds, have fun together. The Charles that laughs with you, who scrunches his entire face into uncontrollable giggles when you tickle his skinny little waist with your claws. The Charles who asks if you’re alright when he’s bending you in half, and sticks around for lazy kisses and a little light bickering in the afterglow; who turns up staring at his feet when he’s about to ask you for something he doesn’t think he ought to want. The version that’s so easy to love, it’s all too easy to see why Edwin does.

And then it gets… quiet.

Too quiet.

“C’mon,” he says, with a little hiccup — guy can not hold his enchanted liquor. “Let’s — let’s play something. That’s what you’re s’posed to do, yeah?”

You laugh, swiping the bottle. It’s pricy stuff. Wasted on this kid, really. “Uh, yeah, if you’re twelve.”

“C’mon — missed out on uni, didn’t I? Mm, let’s play… what’s the one… the two truths one. Two truths and a lie, yeah?”

“Jesus Christ.”

“You first. Go on, pusscat!”

You hum, hoarding his silly little pet name for your collection as you make a show of inspecting the bottle. “Alright… two truths. I took a vacation in the eighties and spent it as one of Freddie Mercury’s cats,” you count off on your fingers, that’s one. “Esther Finch owes me two hundred and seventy dollars, eighty-six cents, and my virginity,” that’s two. “Annnnnd…”

Your third finger hesitates, half-extended; your thumb teasing the loosening corner of the wine label. You affect the sarcastic tone like a warding spell.

“And this is the most rare, most expensive wine I got; I brought it out to keep you here longer because I’ve been missing you sooooo much.”

He snorts, and buys what you’re selling. “Yeah, right. Mate, you know you’re not s’posed to make it obvious which one the lie is, yeah?”

You’re probably not supposed to play when you’re a being who can’t fucking lie, either.

But hey, there’s always a workaround.

He shows up less. He fucks you less. You masterfully pretend you don’t give a shit either way.

He shows up once or twice a month and loiters, and chatters. He makes jokes and menaces your cats with penlights and tries to be so annoying that you won’t notice the cogs turning in that pretty little head. Maybe, if there’s enough frustration in the air, one of you’s lucky enough to get their dick sucked.

He hangs around, and you bite your tongue against the urge to tell him to pull. The fucking. Trigger.

(You could pull the trigger. You know you could. In fact, you probably should; call time on this grubby little charade and put both of you out of your misery.)

(But you’re a selfish old creature. Greedy, grasping. And you always want what you can’t have.)

(And you can’t have him. You never could.)

“See you next time.”

He pauses. Glances back.

“Yeah,” he mumbles. “Next time.”

He leaves.

You pour yourself a stiff drink.

“Well,” you say to the empty room. “It was fun while it lasted.”

Thanks, mate. For everything. Think I’ve figured it out.

Take care of yourself, yeah?

-C

Of course you send a couple spies. Just to check it out.

What? You never claimed not to be a nosy bitch.

They return with drooping whiskers, pitying voices that raise your hackles. They return with news of your ‘boys’ smiling, laughing. Holding hands.

They don’t describe the kiss in detail. Why would they? You wonder who initiated. Wonder if Edwin leaned in, all neat and prim and knowing like that time he kissed your cheek. Wonder if Charles did that thing he does sometimes where he bends and sways in like a too-tall tree in a breeze.

You shouldn’t ask.

You ask anyway.

Curiosity killed the fucking cat.

You punch a wall that night. You get mad at yourself.

You realise it’s something he would do. You get even madder.

You fall asleep with blood on your open knuckles and it doesn’t do jack shit to distract from the smoking crater in your chest. You didn’t think it would.

If there’s one bright side to all this — and honestly, you’ll take what you can get — it’s that you did, technically beat out your initial expectations.

You lasted longer than a week.

If you take it all together, anyway, all the time in-between, snatch every last hour, stack ‘em up. If you count the ‘off-season’. If you let the days you spent apart exist as days where he implicitly wanted you enough to string you along, to keep you as an option.

Count those days, and you made it half a year. A Christmas fucking miracle.

If you take out the empty days, well. Then you lasted barely six of them.

[jazzmckay]

crossroads mythal's test of worthiness

i got talking with @broodwoof on discord about how mythal presents herself and how much we can dig into what she says and how she says it. then i thought, "already did the hard part, i should clean this up and put it on tumblr". so here we are!

the following quote from morrigan/morrithal will be referenced frequently and is the jumping off point for how i read mythal's character:

Morrigan: She will demand respect but detest flattery. She appreciates righteous anger but will not tolerate pity. She is, for want of better phrasing, prickly. But if you are determined to try, then I wish you luck.

wanting respect, but not flattery, says a lot about mythal and the kind of leader she is--as well as the kind of leader she values. after testing a few different paths in the conversation with mythal, i found that her desire for respect isn't necessarily a show of egotism. i do think she has a bit of that edge, but not like elgar'nan wanting people to bow to him in complete deference. she just wants to be treated as the powerful figure she is, plain and simple, and going past that to flattery will make her see you as utterly lacking in backbone. a suck-up. incapable of free thought. but treat her with respect while still holding your own and proving yourself (maybe even as on the same level as her!) and that's the sweet spot. she does not want you to grovel and beg, she wants to see your worth.

because what's going on here is mythal deciding whether or not to give herself to you. this is a huge deal. mythal has spent an eon in the crossroads, alone and watching. before that, she was a ruler for centuries, one of the leaders with the most power. and rook is asking her to basically enter their service. most players won't conceive of it that way, they aren't seeing their rook as being in control of mythal, but mythal's essence is in rook's hands entirely. it is up to rook how, when, and if mythal comes forth again.

so i largely see this entire conversation as a test. mythal needs to know you're worthy before she puts herself in your hands. mythal knows what can happen when one person asks another to aid them in this way, because this is what she did to solas, and she knows it broke him, yet she's willing to consider giving her essence to you anyway. this is massive, a decision she can't make lightly.

Mythal: [...] did you come to ask your god to sacrifice herself to help you defeat the monsters Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain have become?

"sacrifice" is, in essence, what rook's asking for. mythal doesn't end up dying, so how it turned out wasn't really a sacrifice, but she doesn't know that. rook doesn't even know that. in the end, it just as easily could have been rook bringing mythal out on tearstone island. rook could have brought mythal out for a fight, for a true sacrifice of some kind. instead, she comes out to speak with solas, which i think is the ideal outcome for this mythal. she got her bit of vengeance against the blighted dragon, but vengeance isn't all she needs. she also wants to see solas ("He keeps me here, yet has not visited since waking from his slumber.") and i think she wants closure for both of them ("The many wrongs we did, we did together. I release you from my service."), but, again, nobody knows that's how it'll shake out. you very well could be asking herself to die for you. needing to test rook before making such a commitment makes complete sense.

Mythal: [...] Convince me. Make your case, and I will yield my essence willingly […] Fail, and I shall kill you for wasting my time. Or you will kill me and obtain my essence in doing so… a harder-edged, simpler version.

what i think is important about this line is that ultimately, chances are you will have her essence. it's a video game, so if rook dies to mythal, you just reload and try again. no matter what, you will have mythal. in-verse, though, this is like:

a) you prove yourself, and she yields

b) you prove yourself in combat, and you still get her

c) you fail to impress with words or with might, so good riddance, hopefully someone better than you will defeat the gods

rook technically has two chances to prove themself, either as strong-willed and serving "good" (just like mythal, originally), or by being competent in a fight. either way, you may actually pull off the battle against elgar'nan and ghilan'nain. mythal acknowledges that either is an option. she doesn't just stop at "waste my time and i'll kill you". she knows she could be killed, and if that's how it plays out, shes accepts that. i think this is an indication that she already knows this is going one of two ways, and the conversation is mostly about whether she's willing to yield or if she's going to make you work harder to obtain her help/power.

Rook: If I don’t stop the gods, the whole world will be corrupted by the blight. Mythal: That is why you must succeed. So tell me why I must help you.

what's being said here, in my opinion, is that she does think the gods need to be stopped. her reluctance to immediately side with rook isn't a lack of care. that is why you must succeed. she supports your side without second thought. she knows they need to be stopped. she wants them to be stopped. the question isn't whether or not your fight is necessary, but whether or not you're worthy of her willing assistance. this isn't her saying "why should i care about the blight?", it's her saying, "why do you care about the blight?" she wants to know what matters to rook. why rook considers this fight necessary. if she's going to align herself with you, she needs to know your motivations.

on the more personal side, we also have:

Rook: Stopping the blight mattered enough for you to talk with Solas even after he rebelled against you. It mattered enough for you to stand against the other gods. Mythal: And I was struck down for doing so, betrayed by those I had ruled beside for centuries.

first of all, this further reinforces that she does, in fact, care about the blight. you could argue that she doesn't feel the same way after millennia in the crossroads, but that isn't my takeaway based on her other dialogue. i do think she still cares. but the thing here is that she points out she was killed the last time she took this stance--the stance you're asking her to take again. she was betrayed. whatever kind of relationship you think mythal had with them, whether it was love, familial, just politics, whatever, they were rulers together, at each other's side for centuries. and they killed her. she's obviously still bitter about it, and you're asking her to put herself in that position again. that's a big ask. if she does this again, she needs to know it's worth it.

Mythal: [...] Besides, why should I esteem the Dread Wolf’s approbation? He rebelled against me. Rook: But the two of you stayed close… Mythal: Until he killed the tattered fragment of me who hid inside the human swamp witch.

the subtext here is that mythal considered them close… all the way up until ten years ago. mythal essentially says "why should i care about what solas thinks?" and rook immediately rebuffs her with the knowledge that they remained close. mythal doesn't deny it. she confirms it. her only response for why she might not care about joining solas' side of the fight here is that ten years ago, he killed flemythal. ten years is a blink of an eye for these two. ten years is nothing. this means she held full fondness for him the entire time she was in the crossroads until dai. it's solas not visiting her and then killing flemythal that gets her back up, and that was a measly decade ago. and she's still not 100% spurned, i don't think. she's angry, but at the end, she still calls him friend, still owns up to her part in what they did wrong together, still grants him what he needs to finally let go. mythal absolutely still loves solas, no matter what she tries to say to rook.

again, what she wants to hear is how you feel about solas. she wants to know your take on everything they did, everything that happened between them and because of them. she wants to know if you thought solas was right or not. do you think he had a righteous cause? as morrithal says, mythal values righteous anger, but not pity. she doesn't want to hear you pity her for what happened, she wants to understand your opinion, your values. what would you have done in solas' place? deferred to her, or done the right thing?

Mythal: […] they were ever flawed, as all rulers are…

this quote intrigues me simply for the fact that she says all rulers are flawed. she could have just said they (elgar'nan & ghilan'nain, or the evanuris in general) were flawed, but no, she continues and says all rulers are flawed. she is flawed. this is a blink and miss it moment compared to how she otherwise makes no apologies and makes you fight for every bit of recognition she gives you, but it's there. she's acknowledging that she is flawed. this is reinforced at the end when she talks about her failures and the mistakes she and solas made together, but it's worth noting that she's willing to say this to rook themself.

Rook: You deserve justice, and they deserve to be punished for misusing their power and killing you when you tried to check them. Mythal: Your arguments are… compelling

i imagine the order you go in impacts how this moment lands, that the "your arguments are… compelling" line can come immediately after each point and it would add weight to whichever is "last". for me, this was the third and final point i made, so for my playthrough/perspective, it was significant that she says it specifically in response to rook pointing out that she tried to keep the evanuris in check. you're pointing out that she had lines she wouldn't cross, that she wanted to be a benevolent ruler. and by point it out, rook is aligning with her, saying she was right to do that, and that they would have done the same. this is a "respect, but not flattery" moment where rook doesn't talk about how terrible and unfair it was, they specifically say she upheld her own values and paid the price for it, and you think she deserves justice for that. this is a huge moment of rook saying their values are the same as mythal's values. and to have this be the moment where mythal yields felt especially poignant. she sees that you are of the same mind. and finally,

Mythal: Use it to protect this world with kindness when possible and cunning when necessary.

a perfect summary of what mythal stands for, and what she believes rook stands for as well. she gives herself freely because at this point rook has proved themself to want to do good, to be respectful of not just her, but solas, to care about the same things she cares about. she is willing to end her vigil and return to the fight, because she believes in rook. she believes her power won't be misused. and she needs to know that her power won't be misused, after what the evanuris became, after what they did. if you pass the test, she understands that you won't use her essence for something she wouldn't support. this is a lot of trust she's placing in rook, which is assuredly a big deal for an ancient god who was betrayed how she was. this whole conversation is her getting a feel for rook and their goals, and in the end, she'll either approve of them and assist them willingly, or deem them unfit and potentially as corrupt as the gods she tried to stop, forcing you to take her essence by force, because she will not willingly stand by someone who does not meet her standards of benevolence and righteousness.

[shoot-i-messed-up]

please yap away abt the fic verse I love it sm <3 will Jill meet Jack and jim later on? Is Jack alive or is he dead alr?

YAY TYSM FOR ASKING <333333

Jill will meet Jack and Jim later on but most likely off screen or, like, not in the main fic. The reason is bc I’m only familiar with Jack from The Spectre (2001), and I’m only familiar with post-Johns Jim. So like. I think I have a very skewed perception of what those two are actually like, and I don’t want to write a character until I feel like I can accurately hear their voice when I write. (There will be a future Barry POV chapter and I genuinely feel like I’m on thin ice for that.)

Which is a shame because I knowww Jill would have Feelings TM about meeting these adult alternate versions of her brothers, and I could use that drama to get Jill to (uhh spoilers I guess lmao?) actually process that she chose not to go to her home universe, which means she probably won’t ever see her versions of Jack and Jim and Carol ever again.

And then Jack and Jim would both have feelings about seeing a young version of Hal. Like DILLH!Hal was the middle child, and he was the only girl, and he was somehow the only child who got physically abused by Martin. That’s a really interesting dynamic to me (I said, like a normal person).

I could get into the drama of how Jack was older than Hal, was “supposed” to “protect” him like big brothers should, and he actually was pretty hard on Hal himself as a kid. I imagine that he didn’t interfere because 1) he initially/partially bought into the narrative that Hal is being a troublemaker and should be punished 2) he was a kid and he couldn’t do anything about it 3) that helplessness turned into guilt once he got a little older and started to get the feeling it was wrong, and then that guilt turned into resentment towards Hal himself and 4) he didn’t want to jeopardize his own status in the family as the golden child. As Jack got older and processed all that shit while being estranged from Hal bc he fucked off to the USAF, I think he would’ve eventually reached out to Hal and apologized for all that. Or who knows? Maybe he’ll reach out during the timeline of DILLH, and we’ll get to see it onscreen. It’s kinda up in the air rn lmao. And anyway, if/when he does see Jill, who looks even younger and smaller than she did in his memory, he’ll feel even more guilt. yum <3

Meanwhile, I imagine DILLH!Jim would be like 6yo when Martin dies, and possibly he didn’t even know what happened until long after the fact. He was the baby of the family, after all. I think he would mostly be a little weirded out by seeing Jill as a girl because he mostly only saw Hal as a guy while he was growing up, since he’s so much younger and Hal transitioned fairly early on in life.

(And I have…absolutely no idea what Jessica Jordan would think about the abuse situation tbh. I’ve seen two characterizations of her: one where she’s sweet and genuinely loving towards Hal and another where she stifles his love for flying because she doesn’t want him to end up like Martin. My characterization for her in DILLH from Hal and Jill’s various comments has mostly implied the latter. And if Martin was beating up Jill, I can’t really steer towards the former much. If I give Martin’s abuse a more misogynistic bent, it might make sense if Jessica herself was abused by him. Idk. Thinking about it.)

I think I would have to do more research on how siblings of abused children experience that trauma, but those are my thoughts for now. PLUS I really need to figure out what are their canon characterizations because like, u gotta know the rules before u break them at least ykyk. I need to know the tune before I can riff off on it with my own reimaginings u get it u get it

On the subject of Jack dying, I am a huge wuss, and I don’t like killing characters (this will come up again Later). Jack died in The Spectre (2001) because Monsieur Stigmonus killed him and his wife in a car crash iirc in order to teach Helen Jordan some sort of lesson. In the DILLH universe, Hal won’t become Parallax and therefore will never become the Spectre either, so even if Helen is still cosmically special, Monsieur Stigmonus would probably not go to such extremes to teach her that the world sucks or whatever. I actually imagine Helen and Jill could actually be around the same age? Would need to do a little math on that, but that could be so, so fun. Cousins <333

(Just remembered. Helen will technically show up in DILLH but not in the way you think.)

[kafus]

i really need to talk about why Gestalt is the perfect song to kick off Kaf's new era a little bit or i'm going to explode

talking about this requires some background knowledge and i'm aware most people who are going to read this probably don't know that much about Kaf so i'll talk about her history a little bit - Gestalt is Kaf's first solo release in a whole year. this is a considerably long time for her, and it's because the person who had been writing her songs for/with her for her entire career, Kanzaki Iori, left Kamitsubaki Studio early last year due to personal complications with himself as an artist (he is still on very good terms with Kaf and the rest of Kamitsubaki's staff!!)

additionally, Kaf's music with Kanzaki had always primarily been centered on various bittersweet and painful themes, but especially the pain of growing up/becoming an adult. this was especially pertinent because Kaf started Being Kaf when she was 14 years old, so she was singing from a place of genuine teenage angst. as she began to inch closer to adulthood and then became an adult herself, however, the feeling of her music shifted from singing about a far-off adult future, to an incredibly immediate one, with songs like her final song with Kanzaki, Kaikou, but especially Kyoukankaku which also came out during those last few months of Kanzaki being around. (i will spare you a whole ramble about these songs, you just have to take my word on the thematics up to this point lol. feel free to look into it further if you like)

so, Kanzaki leaving left Kaf in a bit of a limbo state for a while since so much of her musical identity was built off of her work with him and the topics they explored. she would need to form a new musical identity and figure out where to go from Kanzaki leaving... she spent about a year releasing her last songs with him as well as pumping out covers and collaboration songs with other musicians. but now, finally, she's back to releasing her own work! Gestalt was actually debuted at her KAIKA concert back in January, but only now has the studio release and full music video come out.

Gestalt is representational of her finally entering her new era after this big transitional period. even the official english description for Gestalt says:

KAF embarks on the next stage of her journey.

and oh boy does she!!!

Gestalt looks and feels like a super fun dance song in both the song itself and the MV. the description also says:

Over a year since KAF's last solo release, "Gestalt" is a 'killer dance tune' for the modern age.

and they're right. it is a killer dance tune. this shit slaps. but there's more to it than that.

it's immediately apparent when looking at the lyrics that there's more going on here - take this bit from the official english translation of the first verse for example:

From emotions to configurations When they start to break down I lose all understanding In so many ways Ahh I can't breathe Celebrating suffocation I can't take this

doesn't sound very fun or happy right? sounds chaotic. kaf is suffocating. she is losing her shit. but then it's followed up with:

Drop the beat! This disruptive Unnatural Forbidden gathering "Don't come here" "Don't look there" This is where it all starts to get good It's greedy Warped and twisted But hold me tight It's so hard to get it right, this losing game Seems like working together is the only way

to me, this is Kaf inviting the audience to dance with her amidst the chaos that she and all of us are suffocating in. the "unnatural and forbidden gathering" part is referring to how her and all of us are outcasts of society, how us trying to dance and experience joy while suffocating is looked at strangely. but the only way to survive in "this losing game" (of adult life) is to Work Together! be together!! dance together!!

that idea of being together in spite of suffering is the core message of the entire song, which is even brought out by its title, Gestalt. Gestaltism is essentially the idea that the whole is greater than the sum of its parts, that the whole is worth more than the individual components. both the title and the lyrics of the song emphasize togetherness and dancing as a whole.

this is already a much more optimistic take on those themes of Adulthood Hard and Life Is Pain, portrayed in a much peppier way than Kaf is generally used to. it's familiar, it feels like Kaf, but there's a new spin on it now! it really feels like Kaf is debuting her new era with explosive energy. it's very much "i lived bitch" to me - she's an adult now like she always dreaded being but despite it all she's dancing within the chaos and you should join her for that in this new era!!

but it actually goes deeper than that, because Kaf's MVs have always been made thoughtfully and usually pertain to the meaning of the song, and this one is no different. the animation also ties back into this transition and meaning.

^ these screencaps are from Gestalt (2024) and Just Forget About It (2019) respectively. both music videos were directed by Kawasaki Kenji, who worked on most of Kaf's older music videos and was the person who defined her visual style for a good portion of her career. older Kaf MVs almost always had some element of Kaf existing in real life environments, like some sort of alien girl wandering the streets of Tokyo. she was often put into very mundane locations with a good amount of wide shots, creating this ethereal feeling.

well, Kenji implements those themes into Gestalt for sure... a lot of the MV feels like an older Kaf MV. but there's a couple MAJOR differences...

instead of just idling around and looking wistful like in her older videos, she is DANCING!! and the usual typography in her videos is extremely stylized and much more colorful than usual, plus the environments are decorated with a ton of colorful and overlapping shapes breaking up the relatively mundane and even melancholic looking environment (for the record, "gestalt" is also a type of visual design involving closed shapes, so the typography and shape language here also ties into the title of the song lol).

essentially what they've done here is draw back on the Kaf everyone knows and loves but gone hey, now it's colorful and explosive and high energy! this is new, too!! which is exactly what the song is trying to do as well! familiar themes but portrayed in a completely new light

and as one last aside, it is also worth mentioning real quick that Kaf's current outfit for the year or so, Raichou, was debuted at her concert in January where this song was also debuted, and while not specific to Gestalt, her character designer PALOW really made sure to change how Kaf looks a lot more than usual this time for her new era. Kaf has a new main look every year or so and those outfits can define entire eras for her, and usually they're darker and heavier on the blue, but Raichou is nearly devoid of any blue and has a very different feel. they even changed her hair to be cut flat, something she hasn't done before.

anyways TLDR; my takeaway from Gestalt is i'm dancing with Kaf in this new era amidst the world being on fire so hard. joy and whimsy in the face of suffering bitch‼️get ready because Kaf is going to keep making banger music in new ways the likes of which we have never seen!!! this song is literally a perfect transitional song drawing on Kaf of old and bringing her into the new. absolutely genius. Piedpiper has done it again. thank you Jazzin'park for your service

[atiny-for-life]

Creative Spotlight #5: Choi San

Masterlist

Intro: With so many new Atinys coming in, I figured now would be a good time to shed some light on all the boys' creative solo projects over the years, big and small.

ASMR

Like Seonghwa, San also tried his hand at ASMR and appeared twice on M2's Tingle Interview series. Once with Wooyoung in 2020 (San did great and Wooyoung was just confused af by what they were asking him to do - it's hilarious):

And once with Yunho in 2021 (Yunho did a lot better than Wooyoung - he seemed to actually know what he was getting himself into):

The Sanchelin Guide

Like the others, San launched his own series in 2020 and his is all about "critiquing" restaurants (really, it's just him giving anime girl reactions in a voice over while we watch him eat - it's fantastic):

Episode 2 was released shortly after the first, with Episode 3 following in early 2021 and Episode 4 in mid-2022, marking the latest addition to the series.

Cover Songs

San posted his first cover song to Ateez's channel last year.

Lee Hi's Breathe suits his voice incredibly well, going from sweet and soft to powerful high notes. It's a deeply emotional song with a backstory that was shared in the comments by a YouTube user:

Transcript:

nikki6030: He covered a song which is rather a very emotional song if you have been in Kpop for long… it was a song composed by SHINee Jonghyun (RIP my angel) for Lee Hi who suffered from panic disorder and breathing difficulty… Lee Hi sang this song once again after Jonghyun’s departure and made everyone cry… this song is just that special & San’s beautiful vocal reminded me of Jonghyun… and how idols struggle and feel being the public’s entertainment…. Let’s spread Love!!

2 months ago, San and Jongho collaborated on a cover of IU's Dear Name:

From songs like Turbulence, we already knew their voices sound breathtaking together, but this cover really highlights all aspects in which they mesh well. At 4:05, when the song builds, my heart stops until San comes in and they both harmonize - it's such a gorgeous cover.

Pentatonix Collab

Many don't seem to know this, but two years ago, Yunho, San, and Jongho were featured on a Pentatonix song called A Little Space which even included a Korean verse:

Imitation Soundtrack

Like Yunho, Seonghwa, and Jongho, San was part of the Imitation cast and, within the show-verse, part of the group Sparkling, together with Seonghwa and Yunho.

Since this is the third post on which I'm posting a Diamond performance, here's a fun fact for those who haven't watched the show (yet): going by the show's canon, Jongho's group, Shax, debuted prior to Sparkling so they had the running joke on set that Jongho needed to be addressed formally by the other three since he was their senior. Good times.

Dancing

8 months ago, San's dance performance to Imagine Dragons' Warriors was released, featuring a choreography San, BBtrippin, and TARZAN collaborated on:

It's got everything you'd expect from San-level quality in a performance: controlled power, facial expression, palpable emotion - it's gripping, it's stunning, and the camera work, costumes, lighting and editing are only enhance it all the more. We even get a touch of CGI to bring it all together and make it look as grand as it feels:

[trashlama]

Heeeeeyyyyy.... guess who's ADHD can't let them write for shit?~ This bitch✨~

I suuuuuucck guys I know! I did a poll and everything just so I would have to write some of these! I just couldn't help but get side tracked.... My brain is in the LMK and Spiderverse fandoms!!! Though I will say I basically got this Rise Donnie x Big Mama Assistant req almost done. Almost I say. We'll see if I post it in the next two days and not something else random instead.... I suck lol

Anyways— here's my 3am thoughts from the other night that I'm finish up tonight ironically at 3am again. Soooo bare with me these are basically a bunch of summaries/plots/not fully flushed out possible one shot ideas I might do. Probably could've re-read it a couple more times buuuuttt it's about to be 4 now so....

I hope you guys enjoy!

Sorry this is long↓ I don't own these memes. I've never claimed to do so. I just come across them on Pinterest when I'm on break at work and think they're funny so I like to share them. If I mistakenly put one on here that I shouldn't have please let me know! I like to respect people's wishes. And if you could add the creator names too that would be great so the same mistake isn't made twice. Sorry for the inconvenience that my sharing may cause. I hope you have a good day.

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Sooooo I was going through the Across the Spiderverse tag(specifically Miguel O'Hara) because you know he's hot. Priorities— Anyways— I kinda had an idea. Brahhzz what if I just took the whole Miguel kidnapping his dead wife/lover's alternate dimensional copy deal that everyone has been throwing around and introduced a new take on this tale?

We all know that the Spiderverse is very open to a wide selection of possibilities and versions of Spiderman and we're all aware that the same thing applies to other characters as well. Soooo who said that Y/n has to be a civilian/or a version of Spiderman for this idea to work?

My fellow peeps I introduce to you Earth 2099 Miguel O'Hara x  Villain/Alchemax worker/Morally Grey scientist Reader!

I can kinda see this playing out in a few ways.

1.)Villain reader investigating the strange phenomenon that occurred a couple months before hacking the multi verse and stirring up trouble. Miguel intervenes and takes what he wants.

For the last year since the bizarre phenomenon in downtown Brooklyn you've been stirring up more trouble than you typical due to collecting the materials needed for your "experiments" to figure out what that phenomenon really was and what the hell was Alchemax —your ex-employers— were up to with your research. With some finessing of the illegal kind you figure out what the corporation was up to. Before being fired you had discovered the existence of the multiverse however before you could investigate any further you were let go. Now that you have your research back you're able to Doc Octo this shit and break into the multiverse. If you could pull this off nothing was stopping ya' from fulfilling yer goal and maybe scoring some fame while you were at it. After some convoluted ass science mumbojumbo. You manage to Doc Octo this shit and break into the dimensional web that held the spider verse. Inside the alternate universe you immediately start messing up shit straight off the back as soon as you fly through the colorful portal. Miguel is quick to pick up on this anomaly and sends some Spiders out to handle the issue. Long story short— they fail. Forcing Miguel's hand to go and correct the anomaly himself. Only to find that it was you. Her. His dead wife/or dead lover. The only problem is that you're obviously not a good guy. Miguel being Miguel will try to rationalize it to himself as he demolishes your equipment/suit that you're not his Y/n, you're a villain, he can't keep you without risking a whole universe just for his selfish desires. However as he stood over your defeated helpless form. He decided. If one anomaly can exist and not destroy existence why can't another? There were ways around this. There had to be. Holding you in his grasp again the hero wasn't sure if he could let you go once again....

2.) You're an inventor/scientist that works at Alchemax/or your another rogue scientist . Either way you're looking to get into the Spider verse. Since the phenomenon from a couple months ago you've been intrigued by the strange occurrence. The news labeled it a "strange weather occurrence" however you knew that wasn't the case. If you're working at Alchemax you've known about the phenomenon since the beginning. If you're an inventor/scientist (with some grey morals) you found out after some research and trespassing. Either way your tinkering pays off thanks to the help of some stolen tech from Alchemax and an interesting glitch from the hacked tech. You eventually have yourself a fully operational universe hopping watch. And where do you end up? Right in the middle of Earth 2099. Miguel is immediately alerted of your presence. An obvious stranger to this Jetson world you find yourself quickly apprehended by a small group of spiders/or Miguel. Either way the red & blue leotard nosferatu as soon as he catches sight of you the dude is all over you. Miguel may be a man who would like to believe he is in control of himself and his rash decisions buuuuttt that's gonna be a nah. Never had the Spiderman ever expected to speak to an alternate version of his dead wife. Especially in person. Every time he's stolen a glance it was from a distance or behind one of his various monitors. He couldn't risk ruining another verse. However somehow regardless of his attempts to keep his desires at bay you've still managed to break past that last thing that was keeping you from him. Now that you're here the thirty year old wasn't sure if he could let you leave him again...

3.) What if instead of breaking into the multi verse. Alchemax employee/Morally Grey scientist Reader! is lured into the multiverse? In your home verse the Miguel who you had married was dead. Struggling with piling debt and depression you choose to bury your problems under research into the weird phenomenon that occurred in downtown Brooklyn a few months before. During this time of trial and error you figure out how to access the multiverse thanks to some misplaced Alchemax files and risky choices. The documents aid in building the device that would aid in your plan to find your ex-husband's alternate universe copy. All the while you were walking right into Miguel's clutches. Cause like you Miguel was having an equally hard time getting over his family's death. Although they are gone the widowed father couldn't help but, search for his loved ones amongst the various worlds that rest at his finger tips. He needed them. He needed you....and you needed him. Although you guys weren't from the same earth you both can replace the pain that was birthed from this tragedy and regain something more. Just be a family.... Hopefully you want to play his game because Miguel couldn't watch from the sidelines any longer.

Alrighty guys that's all for now! Sorry if they're a little all over the place. Regardless I hope you guys liked them and I hope you guys have a good week!