#I thought I put a Read More in here but I don't see it on mobile oh well

[inkskinned]

lately i've been a feminist killjoy.

2. i pirate all my media, and therefore am not familiar with most tv commercials. i went to a superbowl party. around me were appetizers and bean dip and wine and the rolling movement of people talking - and meanwhile i was sitting there, stonefaced and bonechilled. the extraordinary, willful, in-your-face sexism and racism of advertising. what an odd whiplash: the warm and smiling hosts handing me nachos - in the background, some casual repetition of conservative gender roles. more than once i had to turn to my girlfriend - are you seeing this?

3. often i think of how rainbow capitalism is a canary in a coal mine. i think of what one google employee said when they took down their "don't be evil sign" - he mentioned that while it hadn't really done anything, the removal of it was... eerie. it isn't that i needed pride-themed fast fashion items from target. it's that the pushback to said items has now resulted in the company's looming silence. it's that the pushback worked. target is now among the list of companies aiming to "roll back" DEI initiatives. a false friend, i guess - but a bellwether nonetheless.

4. i remember five, ten years ago rolling my eyes at the faux-feminist faux-activist stuff advertisements would put out. i mean, who can forget that pepsi ad, oh my god. i remember girlboss anthems and lukewarm representation. but it did seem like someone was, you know, trying to be thoughtful. but if we follow the money, i think it's fair to say it used to be a good idea to at least appear "politically correct." now though - who cares? look at the man we chose for politics.

5. i am working my girlfriend through her first watch of FMA: Brotherhood. it should be a sweet deal, and instead, i oscillate from peaceful to pacing. the ads drive me insane. i've been counting - at least three involve a man silencing a woman in some way. two involve a white man silencing a woman of color. in my least favorite, she's sitting at her desk, trying to say the same thing he's saying. but he keeps fucking interrupting her. ha ha. don't even ask me what the ad is even for. i don't understand the plot of the thing. i think the whole idea is just "man talks over a woman. buy our product" but with like, somehow worse pacing.

6. on national tv, in front of millions of viewers, kanye posts an ad for his website that is selling a single white T shirt, a product titled HH. a swastika is emblazoned on it. people can't even talk about how fucking terrible that is - their videos get flagged as soon as they actually say what's happening. i am sitting at home staring at my stupid phone, just quietly stunned. we can make a rapist president, but we cannot say the word rape on most social media platforms. elon can nazi salute on television without consequence, but you can't use the word "female" in your research grant request without being flagged. the enormity of it all is impossible to grasp.

7. there's a company called "his", which sells things for erectile dysfunction. the ads are trucks and masculinity and very gender affirming. the same company has a "hers" line, which is a barely-tested weight-loss injection developed and sold by recently-rebranded absolutely evil company Eli Lilly. in the ad, women who are "overweight" grapple with their barely-visible stomach and smile, beautifully at peace while delivering their own "treatment."

8. i read a lot, though. i spend a lot of time online. someone recently said i write almost exclusively from a place of panic, which they didn't like. it made me laugh though - can any artist say differently right now? still. still! i sat on that couch and watched how casually bigotry is repeated, with no real audience reaction. am i just radicalized and unfortunately very easily annoyed? am i the problem here? can't i just like, relax and let it happen?

9. we stand in line at the movie theatre. i make some snide remark about how the poster we're looking at is basically "sexy trophy smiles knowingly at our hero, nerdy boy". from behind me, some guy snorts down his nose. feminist killjoy.

10. the thing is. i don't want to be like this. it's just like. in my fucking home.

[hiiragi7]

Educationism

Here's a word I learned recently that I want to share with tumblr. Educationism is the word for discrimination against less educated and uneducated people as well as the biases that higher educated people have against less educated and uneducated people.

Educationism is something I have experienced for a long time (first as a SPED kid and then as a highschool dropout with no diploma or GED) but never had the words to talk about and that really frustrated me a lot.

Educationism is something I wish more people would talk about. It's something that comes up all the time even in casual conversation, and even moreso in more heavy or discourse-y conversations.

Often I even see people trying to be allies especially to queer or trans or intersex folk and they end up engaging heavily in educationism - which is really draining for me as a queer, trans, intersex person who is not formally educated. (For example - "I bet TERFs didn't even pass highschool biology", a statement which both fails to acknowledge and hold accountable that TERFs make an active choice to be bigoted and frames not passing a class in highschool as the reason why TERFs exist, which gets tiring very fast as someone who very much did not get good grades or pass classes in highschool and yet is very much not a TERF.)

Being less educated or uneducated is constantly used as an insult and education is used as a measure of how much worth a person has and how good of a person they are, I am constantly put down for not being formally educated. Being formally educated, especially on a college level, also provides value to one's words and thoughts - Nobody wants to hear what a highschool dropout has to say, because they assume we simply aren't worth speaking to or hearing out.

When others learn that I am not formally educated, immediately they assume that I am lesser of a person than them, that I am lazy or simply don't try hard enough to become formally educated, that my life does not matter as much or is not as good as theirs, and that I am not to be taken seriously.

Additionally, I don't think higher-educated people really realize how little rights you have when you are not formally educated. It doesn't matter how much I actually know in practice, how much I read and study, how much unpaid labor or volunteer work or community work I perform, because I do not have a highschool diploma or equivalent the amount of things that I am allowed to do is severely limited.

Many areas of life, including large ones like getting a job or going to college, are largely not accessible to me because I do not have a highschool diploma or equivalent.

I also have to deal with quite a massive amount of social stigma and discrimination, and it feels isolating to not see anybody in my communities talk about it, especially in communities which are otherwise very welcoming and accepting and anti- various forms of bigotry.

So, here's me putting myself out there a bit in hopes that educationism as a term might be picked up and passed around more and maybe others might discuss it and learn something about it.

[ginnyw-potter]

Ginny Weasley should die.

Thank you for the prompt anon! 😊 I hope you like it.

Death's cup

"Ginny Weasley should die."

Harry looked up from his newspaper and thought about his wife upstairs. 50 years old. Not quite in her quidditch years anymore but not old enough to die of natural causes, or so Harry would think. He did not want to let her go.

He looked at death. He seemed familiar. "Ah. Interesting that you tell me this. I thought you wielded your scythe on your own time, sir."

He stood up from the table and Death was yet still taller than him by almost more than a head.

Death moved uneasily. His face was hardly visible under his hood. "I do, but you... are the Master of Death and I will not take your wife away unannounced."

"I don't have the Elder Wand. The Stone is lost to time. The cloak belongs to James."

Death nodded. "You do not lose the title until someone else brings the items together. James is a special one. He hides from Death just as well as his father. There were some close calls under that cloak."

Though the thought of his son dying prickled as much as thinking about Ginny dying did, he only nodded. "He has no clue what it used to be like."

"He grew up safe thanks to the efforts of the generation before him," Death said. "I need to go and start on my day. I will be back in a few moments."

And just like that, Death walked out of his back door and soared straight up into the sky.

Harry had not even moved from his spot when James appeared by the same back door and knocked before entering.

"Morning dad, here's the cloak like you asked." His son put the cloak down on the table. "Mum still asleep?"

He nodded, dumbfounded but didn't reveal that he had never asked for the cloak. "Sleeping in."

"Alright. I'll see you two for dinner, yeah?"

Harry nodded again, trying not to think of the horrible possibility of Ginny not making it to dinner. "Of course," he said around the lump in his throat.

His son walked to the door again but Harry stopped him. James turned around to look at him.

"With or without that cloak, you're not invincible. Don't forget that," Harry said.

James offered him a lop-sided smile. "Is this another lesson from you where you take the cloak away from me to prove something?"

"No. Just a reminder."

"Because I am getting married soon and then I want to give you some of those grandkid-things mum dreams about." James hugged him.

Harry hugged him back. "Don't tell her that or she'll bug you about it until you bring her one."

"Merlin," his son let out with a chuckle. "I know it. I thought Al was going to beat me to it, to be fair." James released him and stepped back.

"He might still," Harry mused out loud.

James nodded in agreement. "Alright, see you tonight, dad!"

Harry waved absent-mindedly, his fingers of his other hand already wrapping around the cloak.

As soon as James had disapparated, he walked upstairs and into the master bed room. Ginny was sleeping soundly.

He tried not to think too hard about losing her but his arms shook as he draped the cloak over her. She did not stir.

"I love you, Gin," he said just in case and then he walked back downstairs.

He had just poured himself another cup of coffee when Death descended the stairs and walked back into the kitchen.

"The oddest thing just happened," Death said with an air of innocence, holding a list. "It says Ginny Weasley, bedroom, but I could not find her."

"That is odd," he agreed, the knot around his heart loosening a little. "Coffee?"

"Oh. Yes, thank you."

Harry poured Death a cup and handed it to him.

The skeletal hand wrapped around the ear of the cup. Both of them leaned against the counter as Death took a sip. A bit of steam escaped from the ear holes in his hood as he drank.

He seemed to leisurely read the list to see what was ahead for the day.

"Sir Barkington?" Harry inquired as he couldn't help but glance at the list.

"Yes," Death said. "Elderly dog. One of my favourites. It's such a joy to see them escape their old body with their achey joints and bad eyesight and see them chase around like a young puppy once more. It gets me every time."

Harry smiled. "That does sound rather nice." He looked at the name still at the top of his list. "Isn't it rather odd that my wife should be listed as 'Ginny Weasley' when she's been a Potter for thirty years?"

The cup of coffee hesitated in front of Death's mouth as his eyes slipped down. "That is odd."

"So?" Harry asked.

Death grumbled. "I wonder if the stupid fragmented souls messed with my list. Can't move on, can't go back. Trying to defy nature and now I have to pass those sorry excuses for a soul every morning on my commute!"

Harry's eyebrows rose. "If one was previously occupying a diary, it would know my wife's name rather well."

"Ah." Death's gaze fell on the list again. "That may very well be it. I'll need to investigate." He set the cup of coffee down on the counter and a quil appeared in his hand. He crossed Ginny's name off the list. "One way or another, consider her off the hook. I'll talk to her in another century or so." He rolled up the list and tucked it in the pocket of his cloak. "I'll see you soon."

Harry swallowed.

"Just kidding!" Death said, opening the door and stepping outside. "That never gets old! But you will. Live a long life, Harry. I will meet you again when it's time." He waved and then soared off once more.

Harry walked up the door and closed it. He returned to his coffee and took another sip.

"Why was the cloak on me?" She held it in her hands. She looked so very alive with tousled long hair and her night dress wrapped around her form.

"If I told you Death was looking for you, would you believe me?"

She snorted a laugh and picked up the cup of coffee from the counter. "No." She took a sip and promptly spat it out. "That tastes like death!"

"Told you he was here," Harry mumbled under his breath. "I'll get you a new one."

She playfully pushed him out of the way with her hip. "I'll make myself one. You clearly can't be trusted around the coffee machine anymore."

He laughed and took hold of her, kissing her eagerly.

"On second thought..." she said as she slipped her hand down his back. "Why don't you come back upstairs with me..."

"The counter is right there..." Harry offered.

She laughed. "I am not twenty anymore."

"No, you're not," he said happily, his hand caressing the curve of her hip. "But you get better every year."

"My joints don't," she said against his lips.

He pulled her up against him. "Oh, alright. And I'll make you a proper cup in a bit."

She dragged him upstairs, Death's cup forgotten.

[thecaduceusclay]

Alright, I’ll bite. Devil’s Minion in both the book and the show feels very connected to the AIDS crisis… but I’ve only ever acquired knowledge about that period through osmosis, so I’m curious if you have any thoughts/connections or information. 👀

I put out a call for people to ask me fandom-related queer history questions since I know a lot! I want to remind people this is open and that I welcome any fandom questions about queer history!

Ok this is going to get long because I have a lot of feelings on this topic especially. For those who just want some resources, further reading, and my sources, you can find those at the end. I'll pepper some links in, but I'll try to put the bulk of it there. But Daniel Molloy in the show especially is a man heavily impacted by the history of the AIDS crisis and I have a lot to say about that. I'm also assuming a knowledge of what HIV and AIDS are in the first place. You can do some quick reading here.

First, a note on the books since I mostly want to talk about the show. Queen of the Damned was published in 1988 when the AIDS crisis was in full swing. The peak of deaths was in 1993, but 1988 wasn't exactly early in it. The previous year saw the start of the AIDS memorial quilt, the founding of ACT UP (we'll talk about them later 💜), and Princess Diana publicly shaking the hand of an HIV positive patient. The shadow is cast over the culture, Anne Rice was not immune to the zeitgeist. Hell, she was living in the Castro district at the time and that is a notably queer area. (Her son Christopher talks about that briefly here.) I don't this the parallels are an accident. Armand is a man watching his lover slowly waste away while he can do nothing about it. Sure, it isn't AIDS, it's the alcohol and lack of care to his body. Sure, Armand could turn him. But despite their fun and their arguments being such a focus, that helplessness and fear permeates their relationship in the Devil's Minion chapter. Like so many gay men at the time, Daniel is wasting away. Armand is tormented by this. That is one of the most prominent faces of queer men at this time!

Daniel in the show has more going on in relation to the crisis.

I'll start by saying this in case it needs asserted, Daniel is a leftist journalist. And I don't mean in a casual liberal way. He's clearly passionate and involved and these things matter to him. He makes flippant and offensive comments in the interview sure, but I'm not saying he's perfect. His books give this away. He wrote about environmental issues in Under the Burning Sky, the prison industrial complex in The United States of Prison and Profit, and seemingly the surveillance state in Homelandia and likely in his book on Snowden. I'd also like to gesture to his work with "the barb". The Berkeley Barb was a leftist underground student paper. I'd recommend taking a look at their archives linked here and their website to get a grasp for what he was writing with at the time. (Warning, the archives are often NSFW). But in short the barb's attitude was largely anti-war, sex-positive, fuck the establishment kind of writing. He was already like this when he ran into Louis in '73. This will inform our view of him moving forward and will be our framework for understanding how he interfaced with the AIDS crisis.

I think it's important to note Daniel's proximity to AIDS too. I mean, subtextually, he had a brush with it when Louis nearly killed him in '73. Louis was a silent killer sweeping through the queer men of San Fran. Gay men were likely seeing lovers and friends disappear after going home with a stranger. Risky sex and drug use leading to a death going unacknowledged, one that's largely impacting gay men? I think the subtext of it is queer-- I mean clear. (Louis is not an all around metaphor for AIDS, but the ties between it and vampirism in the series seem clear, and in this instance the connection is there specifically for Louis, no one come for my ass).

Speaking of, the proximity is there in his behaviors too. He's a drug user who goes home with random men. (Casual sex was a big part of gay culture back then, see the hanky code and cruising for this.) Both of these actions put him at high risk of contracting HIV and put him among populations more likely to contract it. He was using heroin, and needle sharing is a huge risk factor in the spread of bloodborne illnesses, which can lead to the spread of HIV (which is why needle exchanges are so important.)

Finally for incidental proximity early on, Daniel was living in San Francisco. We know he frequented Polynesian Mary's at least, and possibly other gay bars. He also likely lived near or in the Haight-Ashbury neighborhood (given his memoir being called Hate and Ashbury). This area is very notably queer, historically. By 1990 HIV was the leading cause of death for young men in San Francisco at 61%. That's frighteningly high, and sure this was much later, but San Francisco was an epicenter.

AIDS was first identified in 1981 as a spread of Karposi Sarcoma and PCP (or "gay pneumonia" colloquially) in gay men in areas like New York, Los Angeles, and San Francisco. The first KS patient to go public (Bobbi Campbell) was in San Fran. He later wrote the first pamphlet on "safer sex". The first KS clinic was opened here, and later the first dedicated AIDS clinic (which Daniel seems to have written an article about according to his LinkedIn). By 1982 this epidemic was known as GRID, or Gay Related Immuno-Deficiency. (Interesting parallel that s1 notes Daniel as having an auto-immune disease, which Parkinson's is not primarily known as...). Daniel was covering these early years. His book A Shadow on the Skin was about this! It was a collection of articles he wrote on KS in the early years as he documented it becoming the AIDS crisis! He was routinely writing about the early epidemic. (s/o to @cbrownjc for this post where I found the blurb on the back of the book).

So, while living in San Francisco, this deeply politically involved young man was watching the early crisis unfold. He saw gay men dying slowly. Some gay men at the time described watching the AIDS crisis sweep through as watching their cities become ghost towns. This was something terrifying, something haunting, and something attributed largely to queer men. I mean, it was called GRID until 1982/1983. It wasn't until Ryan White, a 13 year old boy, contracted HIV from a blood transfusion in 1984 that people began seeing it as anything but just a gay disease. Even then, public perception didn't change quickly. It was so heavily associated with gay men, even, that getting national medical authorities to recognize women could contract it and treat it in women was a struggle.

All of this horror was occurring and the government ignored it. When they didn't ignore it? Ronald Reagan, then president, laughed at it. Hospitals were terrified of gay men, some refused to touch or treat AIDS patients. The FDA and CDC were slow to respond and to treat it.

In season one, Daniel is dismissive of his own queerness. He shrugs off his being in gay bars and hooking up with men, acts like it wasn't a big deal and it was just to score. I think this dismissive attitude likely stems from the AIDS crisis, at least in part. Lingering trauma from Louis' attack in '73 may play a role, after all, the body keeps the score. But I don't think we can overlook AIDS as a factor. The writers clearly didn't overlook it in his characterization, as exemplified above. I think they mean for this to impact who he is and how we view him! He watched some of the most terrifying years in recent queer history, of course he would downplay his queerness, of course he would marry two women even if he wasn't happy with them. (Not denying he may be bisexual, but he's certainly closeted.) And in the end, despite distance from his queerness, he still ended up having to waste away slowly from a disease with no cure, just uncomfortable treatments, much like men in the early AIDS crisis. (Early AIDS treatments were all trial based, you were lucky if you got in. You were lucky if you didn't end up in the control group. But the gamble was all you had, and those were the lucky ones. Even then it may not work, it was a trial for a reason. It wasn't until 1987 that AZT was approved to treat AIDS. It wasn't until the mid-90's, years later, that AIDS was considered survivable. I can't help but see his levadopa and how it only slows the inevitable as a parallel to this. A terrible reflection of earlier fears. Parkinson's has no cure. He'll deteriorate until he succumbs, even with medicine. He's lucky if it improves his quality of life, if it doesn't just make him more miserable. He'd be lucky to get a few more years.)

If Devil's Minion happened in the past, Armand watched his lover engage in high risk activities, while clearly aware of the risk given his coverage of AIDS. He watched Daniel writing a book worth of articles on KS and AIDS clinics. He knew how horrifying it was, he knew Daniel knew, and he watched his lover play with fire by using heroin anyway. And in the end? He still watched Daniel deteriorate slowly with medicine that only slowed it more.

If Devil's Minion is only coming and wasn't in the past at all? I think the impact of AIDS mostly falls to Daniel. After being turned he embraces life so fully. Yes, because he was dying before. But his style feels more queer once again. He doesn't have to fear any human diseases! He can fuck men! He can be gay! The shadow that hung over his youthful queer exploration, that interrupted it, is gone for him. And now he doesn't feel it's too late for him, I imagine. I mean, before he didn't have many peers, so many his age died. But now he's a vampire, he's outside of this. He can fuck young men, vampires, whatever. He's now outside of society whether he likes it or not, he's the "other", in for a penny in for a pound, right? And I think that's all going to impact who he is as a character going forward now too.

If there's interest in a Part 2 on the impact of AIDS activism in New York, since Daniel likely saw a lot of it up close, I'll gladly write it. I have opinions and info to share.

For now, stay safe everyone. I love you. And here's some further reading.

~~~~~~~~

A timeline of HIV and AIDS (1981-2024)

Only Your Calamity: The Beginnings of Activism by and for People With AIDS

HIV Infection as Leading Cause of Death Among Young Adults in US Cities and States (1993, about 1990)

On the impacts of the AIDS crisis on gay culture

The Queer significance of San Francisco

1 2 3 4 5 6

AIDS Memorial Quilt

Princess Diana's AIDS Advocacy

About the Berkeley Barb

How Ryan White impacted the view of AIDS

Daniel Molloy's LinkedIn

Practicum Page

[elucubrare]

@idionkisson said, re: my very last tag, if you wanted to share any more mean thoughts about this tendency vs. the way people talk about AI art, yk, just sayin, i'd love to read em 👀

DISCLAIMER: I don't think the current usage of AI art is good. I think it further contributes to the devaluation of the artist's intent. that said, the thesis of this post is that there was a strong anti-intellectual and anti-academy vein of thought that prepared the way for the view that AI art is a full replacement for human-made art.

so, there was an age of the internet where every other tumblr post, it seemed, was about how this artistic-looking thing had happened "accidentally" or was done by an amateur, or described an artist with a decent amount of recognition and respect in the art world as "this guy," as in "this guy spent a year making a map that is the territory" - the one i'm immediately able to find is this crystalized book, by the artist Catherine McEver.

it went viral on tumblr as "a book that fell into the ocean" (and on facebook as "an ancient bible that's still readable", which is v. funny because that book is clearly less than a hundred years old, and i would warrant less than 10). there was also a really cool artwork with less easily googable keywords - someone (eta: thanks to @zukriuchen it's Brian Fanner) made a beehive with internal structuring so that it would look like a heart when opened, which people posted as "a beehive that went back to nature" or something. this supposedly accidental production of works that evoke emotion in the viewer was contrasted to "modern art", which was viewed as sterile, emotionless, overly intellectual, and inaccessible. Only that which Nature creates, or which people create accidentally or without study is "true art".

to some extent, this is a reaction to the way art, especially making money in art, has become genuinely inaccessible - much studio art is taking part in a really long conversation that you could probably trace back to the walls of Lascaux if you wanted, and it is really hard to make your way as a working artist.

(NOTE i am not going to say "due to capitalism" here - the way you could make your way as a working artist without being born rich in the Renaissance was "being adopted as a pet artist by a nobleman" or "getting commissions from the Church" and in the 18th and 19th centuries it was "selling portraits to rich people" or "making a whole bunch of sentimental prints that sold well". we are not well-served by inventing past utopias.)

but that, combined with a shallow reading of the death of the author (not "the author's point of view on their own work is a single reading & not necessarily the most valid one" but "the only thing in a work is what any individual reader sees there"), ends up valorizing things the author "didn't see" in a work ("did they know how funny this is????" about a deliberate contrast in tone in a scene is part of this too), because it allows the reader to feel smarter than the author - they just put down the proceedings of their soul, the reader decodes it and finds the truth!

So, to return to AI. AI art does not have the same intentional choices behind it as human-made art. i won't argue that. but there are AI pieces that get reblogged without people knowing, with tags that indicate that it made the reblogger feel something, and then as soon as they find out that it's AI they decry it as soulless. but didn't it make you feel something, before you knew it was AI? is there a difference, in the initial experience, all arguments about copyright aside, between a computer randomly collecting billions of bits and outputting an image and "this guy put ink on ants' feet, what they created will amaze you"? both of them are art without intent.

again, I am arguing purely on an experiential level. there are ethical concerns about AI art, and functionally, there IS still a human actor who thought of putting ink on those ants; ant-foot art is not going to take over the internet. still, it's extremely jarring, after years of reading people downplay artists' skill, intent, and years of study, often phrased as an attack on the "fake" art world, to read them now talk about how the artist's intent and experience is paramount.

there's this horrible school of attempted literary criticism on here that holds that 1. everything in any given author's work is autobiographical, especially if it seems "real" and 2. those themes seeped into the work subconsciously, revealing something about the author that they're either trying to hide or unaware of themself. it drives me up a wall, since it seems to deny the fundamental skills that make people good writers: the empathy to imagine and portray experiences that one hasn't had oneself and the ability to take one's personal emotional experiences or worldview and fold them, consciously, into the unworked clay of a narrative.

[afurtivecake]

ok I'm going to have to defend Abby here. I know there is an argument that Abby should have known better than to say something like "My Foxes fight back," to Jean, a victim of recent brutality. It definitely comes across as tactless from Jean's POV and you would expect the nurse of a team of traumatized students to know what to say. But I don't think Abby actually knows what to say in these situations - and I don't think it's her fault.

This line from Wymack's bonus chapter suggests that Abby really doesn't have the same sort of background as Wymack and their players:

"David had sworn years ago not to interfere with his kids' fixes so long as they didn't get caught or end up hospitalized. It had led to more fights than he could count between him and Abby in the early days. She'd given in eventually, though she'd probably never forgive him for taking such a stance when he should be setting a better example. Maybe she was right, or maybe she didn't have enough nightmares to understand."

While Abby has agreed to back Wymack up on the issue of allowing players to take drugs, Wymack still believes that Abby privately disagrees. Wymack insists upon it because of his personal experiences in life and guesses that Abby doesn't have those same experiences to understand why he insists upon it.

It's easy to forget because of the POV the story is in, but Abby's reaction is the "normal" one. Most people do not support giving students alcohol and see it as their responsibility to stop students from taking drugs if they find out about it. Wymack only takes the harm reduction approach (i.e. allowing/giving recovering addicts the substance they are addicted to safely, instead of forcing them to be cut off immediately. A divisive approach, even nowadays.) because of his own experiences, not because he has formal training in addictions counselling/treatment. All Abby is doing, is sticking with what she knows and believes will help these young people.

Abby is very "by-the-book" in comparison to Wymack or even Betsy. She argues against taking Andrew off his medication and putting him in rehab immediately because she believes it goes against the recommended procedure of these situations. She argues against it out of genuine concern for Andrew, because she believes going against the recommended procedures will do him more harm than good.

It makes me think back to Abby's interactions with Neil back in AFTG, where Abby says, "Sometimes I think this job is going to kill me, seeing what people have done, what people continue to do, to my Foxes," right after Neil's been through hell at Evermore. This always rubbed me the wrong way because Neil's just been put through the wringer and all Abby can talk about it how much it's affecting her? She can give up this job at any time and walk away but Neil can't just walk away from being in his situation. But this is a really common sentiment among people who work with vulnerable populations. It's called "vicarious trauma" and it can happen when working with and empathizing with survivors of trauma. It can lead to lingering feelings of anger, sadness, guilt and burnout. Those feelings are no more Abby's fault that the feelings experienced in response to direct trauma.

The way I read it, Abby isn't trying to blame Jean or shame him for his victimhood. What Abby sees is a kid who acts like he's already given up on life, a kid who doesn't want others' kindness. It's not an unreasonable assumption to make; even Kevin and Neil have said that Jean "isn't a fighter." My interpretation is that Abby's "My Foxes fight back," is her attempt at copying Wymack's gruff support. I think she's hoping that a direct challenge will spark pride or defiance, or at least enough anger, to stop Jean from giving up. She's seen Wymack and Neil strong-arm Kevin into being brave all year, and I think she thought that that's what Jean needed to hear too. After all, it really seems to work when Wymack does it. But the difference between her and Wymack is that Wymack's understanding of what their players need comes from personal experience. He knows when the right time to say certain things are. Andrew tells Neil first thing, "Coach always knows what to say." And that's not because Wymack is a better person than Abby; it's just because Wymack knows from experience what they need to hear.

It's not Abby's fault that she doesn't understand them the way that Wymack does and that she can't help them the way that Wymack can. She doesn't have Wymack's lived experience. What's she's been doing this entire time is trying to understand what these kids need and trying to do the best she can for them with what she knows. She genuinely cares and she's trying, but she's making all the mistakes a normal person would make. And that's perfectly realistic and fine! It doesn't mean she doesn't care about the students she works with. It doesn't make her a horrible person. It just means that she's just kind of painfully normal. In fact, her painfully normal responses have helped too. Like when she hugs Neil and though Neil's not used to hugs (like, at all), it's new and comforting and something only she would have and could have given him at the time. And yes, she's going to fuck up from time to time and not be able to give people what they need, but that's part of caring for anyone.

[redsugarx]

青白之魅 6: Conclusion

1 Introduction & Presentation // 2 Background & Influences // 3 Hair & Makeup // 4 Set Design // 5 Clothes & Accessories // 6 Conclusion

If you’ve followed this series all the way to the end, thank you for your support! A lot more people saw it than I thought would, and I’m really happy that I got to share my process and thoughts with you :) I read all your replies/tags and they make me super happy! There are just a few more things I want to address to wrap things up now.

behind the scenes vid of me with Dragun that Bloomin Studio recorded for us :)

Things That Went Wrong

I am a strong believer in the scientific method and the scientific method involves error analysis!!!!! Also I don’t want it to look like all of this went off without a hitch. That wouldn’t be fair to the complexity of this project and all the people who helped me work through and solve the problems. So here are some of the ways in which We Fucked Up.

Embroidery positioning: The bottoms of the sleeves were accidentally sewn together before the pieces were sent to the embroidery workshop. If you put the whole sleeve into the machine the embroidery would go through both the front and back of the sleeve, making it unwearable. To solve this, we had to pull the stitches out from the bottom of the sleeve, have it embroidered, and then have it sent back to a tailor's shop to repair the seam. 

Tear in fabric: Lily organza/crystal organza admittedly is a very fragile fabric, especially for machine embroidering. It’s extremely thin, and the surface is very smooth and slippery, which looks phenomenal but makes embroidering it really hard. I covered this in the last post, but long story short, in the process of embroidering one sleeve on the green set, the fabric got snagged in the machinery and tore a hole in the bottom of the sleeve.

At first the plan was to remake the entire sleeve piece, but because the color of the fabric was custom-printed, when I had a new piece of fabric printed for the new sleeve, the color didn’t match exactly, so we had to make do with the existing fabric. In the end we shortened the width of the sleeve so that it cut off above the hole, moving the seam up. Thankfully it didn’t really show up in the pictures, but you can see when it’d laid flat how the ‘margin’ under the snake embroidery for this garment is unusually small, because it got cut off.

Lateness: We ran like a full hour or two overtime with our hair & makeup. This is unfortunately not at all unusual for fashion projects like this, but as a result we lost like a third of our photography time, so there were some shots that I would’ve loved to get that we didn’t have time for. 

Forgotten items: There were a number of things we forgot to bring down to SoCal with us. The biggest thing was probably our steamer. Fortunately, because this set is mostly polyester, it didn’t get too too wrinkled, but there are still some creases and folds that we would’ve steamed out had we gotten the chance.

Fav Shots

Shh not all of these are published anywhere else.

Things I Would've Done (if I had infinite time and money)

Lingzhi - I don't have any photos of it but I bought a replica lingzhi herb (the magic fungus that Bai Suzhen steals to revive Xu Xian after her dies of shock from seeing her snake form) prop. We didn't get around to using it but it would've been a really nice major callback to the story. Also I would've gotten to talk about how I think it's highly possible people thought the lingzhi was magic because they ate it and started tripping balls

Willow branches - Willow branches by the West Lake feature heavily in the opera. I wanted to get willow branches to hang from the backdrop but unfortunately wasn't able to find ones that were realistic enough. They were replaced with dried water reeds, but most of the pictures weren't shot high enough to get them in frame.

Swords - In the opera, Bai Suzhen and Xiaoqing both carry swords. Also, swords are also just cool as hell. I do own one prop sword, but it was too big to fit in my suitcase even diagonally, and also I really didn't want to deal with TSA side-eyeing me about it (even though it technically counts as a prop or sports equipment), so we did not get any swords in the photoshoot.

Extremely specific shot with snakes on the floor - I have this concept of a shot: the empty set, without me or my sister in it, with both Dragun and Spirit on the floor. It would be so cool to do like a snake form -> human form diptych concept! We didn't have time to get both the snakes out at the same time unfortunately. Artistic rendition below LOL

artist's rendition

Credits & Thanks

Credit should be served where credit is due!!! I probably mentioned most of them somewhere but I want to reiterate that a whole lot of people helped make this happen and I appreciate them a lot.

Day Of:

Yulan, as the White Snake (ig @/chlobaltblue), especially for all the Talking To People Thing parts (that I hate doing)

Bloomin Studio (ig @/bloominstudioofficial), photographer

Cujo from Art of Scales (ig @/art_of_scales), for providing us with Spirit & Dragun as well as the space

Kevin (ig/@k.evinzhao), for driving and getting us stuff

Cloud9 Hanfu (ig @/cloud9hanfu), which is me and Yulan but it feels weird not to link the brand somewhere

Preparation:

Jinerjia（cutting & sewing）

Xishi Pavilion (cutting & sewing）

Chenxi Workshop (cutting & sewing + alteration)

Hantangfengshang（cutting & sewing）

Changxin Embroidery (digitizing & machine embroidering + alteration)

Hanyiren (patternmaking + CAD)

Xingluzhe (fabric printing + laser cutting)

Final Thoughts

In the introduction I talked a little bit about our intentions with this project and the cultural elements that I attempted to adapt and interact with. The Legend of the White Snake is one of the most well-known Chinese folktales out there, and yet there are so many wonderfully intricate details within it that people don't know about.

Snakes have a bad reputation in a lot of cultures. Evil, dangerous, and malicious, they're often cast as the scheming villains of the story, sly and sneaky characters whose goal is to do you harm. They are not the only victims of a bad reputation—every great dynasty always has some beautiful woman to blame for its eventual downfall. People have been arguing over the game of fault and intention for centuries. Even in the hanfu community, there is an unprecedented amount of infighting over what should or should not count as hanfu, who is 'allowed' to appreciate it, or who can take 'ownership' of it.

I think that's the last thing we need in this day and age. I'm reflecting on this project at a time that is uniquely terrifying for many minorities, especially in the US, who seem to be being persecuted for the crime of simply existing. I don't claim to be fighting for justice, I'm just a student in a world that is far too large for anyone to comprehend. But I hope that I helped make something beautiful happen, and I hope that we shared that with someone else, even if it's just a few people, who are reminded that it's not all for nothing :)

-

Okay, we're pretty much done here. I really enjoyed this process and documenting the whole thing, and I definitely want to do something like this again someday, but I definitely don't have the energy to do this kind of thing very often! If a big project does come up again I'll probably document it in a similar way, but it probably won't be for several months/even years. I'll keep posting hanfu articles and maybe document some smaller single-post projects on here at some point :)

Thank you for letting me share this process with you, and feel free to reply/reblog/send asks/whatever with thoughts, questions or concerns! Please interact with me it brings me joy.

1 Introduction & Presentation // 2 Background & Influences // 3 Hair & Makeup // 4 Set Design // 5 Clothes & Accessories // 6 Conclusion

Here's a picture of my snake to close out (his name is Porcupine/Porky for short/滷肉飯 and he's the dumbest animal I've ever met)

[kp-alice]

Red Light, No Entry | Maknae line

Summary: sub!Ateez scenarios about you/them stopping a scene

Word count: 7 838

Warnings: written at the beginning of each member's scenario, other than that just general awkwardness and misunderstandings

A/N: This post is the sixth and last part of my Kinktober 2024 series! You can find the masterlist for it here.

A/N 2: Since the fic got quite long, I split it into two parts - you can find the hyung line here!

San (choking, very mild fighting and manhandling at the beginning)

It all began with a small, harmless fight. You and San were making dinner, and your boyfriend apparently decided that was a good time to tease you for entertainment. First, it began with small pokes and prods to your sides as you worked, distracting you from the vegetables you were chopping. You were quick to reprimand him, and with the knife you were currently wielding in your hand, San was easily convinced to calm back down.

...For like two minutes.

Since he was now banned from touching you, San resorted to playfully holding things out of reach, going as far as to hold them up above your head, giggling when you struggled to grab them.

At first, you just huffed in annoyance, resorting to a small jump to quickly snatch the seasoning packet from him before he could try anything else. The second time, he got a stern, low warning as you stirred the pot in front of you, side-eyeing him until he put the salt back down.

The third time, though, you were fed up.

"San, I told you not to-" you growled frustratedly, pulling him to you by whatever you could latch onto first. And, well, since you were already about to reach up to grab the item he was holding, your hand naturally landed on his neck.

You were about to continue your scolding, but the sudden lowering of his arm made you pause. Your eyes fell down to his, seeing them widen and gloss over.

"He-" San began, only to gulp dryly, forcing him to quietly clear his throat, "here."

To your utter shock, he handed you the soy sauce himself, the faintest of tremors running through his wrist.

"Oh, um- thank you?" You said, confused, putting the soy sauce down on the counter. You were worried at first, thinking you'd hurt or scared him somehow and he wanted to escape the situation, but something about his demeanor told you this was different. Your hand was still wrapped around his neck, though now considerably looser, wrist resting on his collarbones. "That was easier than I thought. What made you change your mind so quick, hm?"

You watched in real time as San's face turned red, unprepared for your sudden curiosity. "No-nothing! Really, it's fine!"

Silence stretched on between the two of you as you assessed him, looking deep into his eyes to find the truth.

"Is that so?" You finally asked, a small smile on your lips. You weren't totally sure about your read of the situation, but considering San's pliant state, you decided to try and guess anyway.

Before he knew it, the relaxed fingers grazing his neck sprang to life, re-wrapping around him with gentle pressure. It was more symbolic than anything, and yet the gesture made him gasp out loud, eyes widening.

"So it definitely wasn't because of this, right?" You sarcastically pressed on, chuckling as he struggled to compose himself. "Nothing about me holding you like this is bothering you at all, I'm sure."

"Don't," San muttered shyly, turning meek at your sudden interest.

He was both relieved and disappointed when you actually did let up, releasing your hold on him. Your hand slid down his chest before lifting off completely as you turned around again, facing the stove.

"Alright, alright, I'll spare you for now," you relented softly, giving him a quick, warm smile before checking how the food was coming along.

Leaving San to stand there, awkwardly shifting in his spot with a very confusing hard-on and lots to ponder on his own later.

Ever since that evening, San's attitude had changed. He grew quieter around you, often lost in his own thoughts while he blankly stared in your direction. Well, in the direction of your hands, more like. You suspected that it was because of what had happened earlier, but decided not to comment on it for now. Whatever it was, San would tell you when he was ready.

Except San didn't tell you. Or, well, he did, just not in the way you were expecting.

It was now the third day since the... incident, and the two of you found yourself in a rather familiar scenario. What was supposed to be a nice movie night turned into something else entirely not even halfway through, leaving you naked on the couch, riding your equally as naked boyfriend.

"Fuck, don't stop, please don't stop," San whined, gripping your hips as you ground down in his lap. Despite his hold on you, he made no effort to move you himself, letting you set the pace instead. Not that you needed any help anyway, doing just fine with your hands planted on his shoulders and thigh muscles working overtime.

"Oh don't worry, baby," you panted, slowing down to a more stable but purposeful tempo, "we're just getting started."

San groaned at your words, squeezing your flesh in his hands as his head rolled back.

You didn't even think about your next action, doing it out of pure instinct at this point in your relationship. With the slower pace, you could afford to let go of one of his shoulders, slithering up to cup his nape instead. You'd done this countless times before, loving the comfort your caress could bring to the man under you.

This time, however, a new spark ignited in San's eyes.

Just as you had automatically reached up to hold him, San didn't think twice about grabbing your wrist and moving it to the front. He hadn't planned it in advance, but now that he saw the opportunity, he craved the same rush he'd gotten those few days ago.

The effect was immediate. You watched as San's hooded eyes closed momentarily, trying not to roll back from the thrill of your possessive grasp on him.

Feeling a bit daring yourself, you secured your grip even further and gave him a quick, gentle squeeze.

San's eyes blew open at the action, looking at you in shock. A loud groan left him right after, squeezing you closer to his chest as his hips rolled up into yours.

"A-again," he begged, a hint of urgency to his voice.

You excitedly obliged, giving his throat another quick, soft squeeze. The clear arousal in your lover's eyes made your thighs clench together, loving to watch him lose himself to you.

"Fuck, please!" San whined, trying his best not to hold you too tight or dig his nails too harshly into your skin out of pure adrenaline. "Harder, do it harder!"

That, however, made you pause.

Unsure of how much he meant exactly, you willed yourself to squeeze his neck with just a tiny bit more force, carefully watching for any signs of discomfort.

But San just shook his head, panting as he looked deep into your eyes.

"I said harder," he repeated, though it sounded more desperate than commanding.

"How hard, San?" You asked, beginning to feel a bit skeptical. Your movements had almost halted by now, resorting to slow grinds until you figured everything out.

But that just seemed to frustrate San even further, feeling the high he was nearing begin slipping away.

"As much as you want, please. And longer, squeeze longer," San explained in a rush, pressing his neck harder into your hand since your grip was starting to falter. "I want you to choke me, Y/N, please."

"San..." You trailed off, unsure. Even if you hadn't been thrust into this conversation in the middle of sex, you would have been pretty hesitant. Sure, the possessiveness of holding San by the neck felt nice, powerful even, but you didn't want to actually harm him in any way. And despite the different guides on how to "safely" choke someone, you knew there really was no actual safe way to do it.

"It's okay, I'm fine, just-"

"But I'm not fine with it, babe," you said as gently as you could, slipping your hand away from his throat.

San blinked at you in confusion, unsure of what to say. "What- what do you mean?"

You chuckled at his puzzled expression, running a hand through his hair to help him settle down. "I'm saying that I'm not going to choke you, love. I'm sorry if that's something you really wanted, but I don't want to accidentally hurt your throat by grabbing you wrong. Not to mention that even if I do it right, I'd still be cutting off your oxygen and that's just all around not good."

"But," San muttered, a small pout forming on his lips, "if it's just for a few seconds, then it's the same as holding your breath, no?"

"Sure," you conceded, "and you can hold your breath as much as you want, but not during sex and not by my hand. I'm not risking your health or safety."

Looking down, San mulled over your words. After a few seconds of silence, he sighed. "No, you're right. I shouldn't have put that pressure on you, sorry."

Smiling, you leaned down to give your pouty boyfriend a quick peck. "It's okay hun, don't worry. And thank you for respecting my boundaries."

"Of course!" San retorted much more energetically, brows furrowed indignantly at you even thinking he wouldn't. But then, his face morphed into something much more soft and nervous. Shy.

"...Would you still be okay with just holding my neck, though?" He asked in almost a whisper, blood rushing to his cheeks. "Not hard or anything, obviously! Whatever you feel comfortable with is fine, you don't even have to do it at all if-"

"I'd be happy to, babe," you grinned, eliciting a small, surprised "Oh?" in return. The pout on San's face quickly spread into a coy smile as your hand returned to his chest, trailing alongside his collarbones before snaking around his throat again. Your touch was light, but it was there nevertheless. Immediately, you could hear his breath hitch at the feeling, making your own core react to the sound.

"...Is this really okay?" He tentatively asked, just to be sure.

Wanting to lighten the mood again, you gave your boyfriend a quick, tiny squeeze, watching him go boneless under you. "It's more than okay, don't worry. Just lay back and let me take care of my baby, alright?"

San hummed at your words, smiling contently as his hands rubbed your sides in anticipation.

"Of course. Anything for you."

Mingi (fingering, indirect peer pressure, allusion to pegging at the end)

It's no secret that Mingi likes to be seen. He loves your attention and praise, loves when you cherish him with all you have. And he tries to give as much of that energy back, showing you how good you're making him feel, begging for more, doing whatever you want him to do just to please you.

But Mingi is also one to sway under pressure, even if not necessarily directed at him, which is why the sudden topic change at the bar the other night got under his skin a bit more than he'd like to admit.

For the first time in a long while, all of his hometown friends had free time to hang out. Naturally, they went to a nearby bar for a small reunion. Before he knew it, they were all four shots deep into an unofficial drinking contest, trying to see who could last the longest. But with the shared drunkenness came some unexpected, otherwise undiscussed topics.

"I'm telling you, until you try fucking standing up, you can't say anything bad about it!"

"They say the same shit about fucking in the shower, and in the end it's even worse than missionary!"

"Fuck off, nothing's worse than missionary! That's like the most basic shit you can do!"

Already, Mingi wasn't planning on adding much to the discussion since your sex life and dynamic in general weren't exactly something his friends would deem "conventional", but those comments made him shut off even further. What do they mean, "nothing's worse than missionary"? That's literally the go-to position for the two of you, regardless of who's on the top or bottom. Well, Mingi certainly likes it a lot. But, you do too, right? Or were you possibly bored of it as well, just like his friends seemed to be?

Trying to push those thoughts aside for now, Mingi did his best to enjoy the rest of his evening unbothered. It didn't really work, but that's only for him to know and mope about afterward.

When Mingi had returned from the bar, he was considerably more sober, save for the slight tint clinging to his neck and ears.

The whole taxi ride home, he was deep in thought. Trying to come up with the best way to ask you about your preferences, he just barely noticed the taxi driver pulling up in front of your apartment complex. He pulled himself out of his daze for the few seconds it took for him to pay and get out, but then it was right back to thinking.

In the end, he decided to be direct about it, knowing it would probably be more awkward to beat around the bush and make you guess what he was getting at.

Just breathe in and out, in and out. He could do this, there was no reason to be scared of asking you and no need to be shy about it.

...is what he'd thought until the door swung open to reveal you, excited and unassuming as you led him inside with a big smile. Within seconds, all of Mingi's bravery had vanished, leaving him to awkwardly trail after you while he inwardly cursed himself.

Well, fuck. Maybe next time. Surely.

But the opportunities to speak up just kept coming and going, and Mingi still hadn't mustered up the courage to voice his insecurities. No matter how much he screamed at himself to just say something, he couldn't bring himself to do it.

Not until the next night, when Mingi had yet again found himself under you, a position all too familiar to the two of you. Splayed on the bed, he squirmed on your fingers as you prepared him for the next step.

You were two fingers deep already, about to put in a third one, when Mingi's hand suddenly found your wrist, gently stopping your movements.

"Wait," he spoke suddenly, clearly surprising himself with his own voice judging by the sudden tension in his body.

"What is it, bunny?" You asked softly, checking for any signs of pain or distress. "Is something wrong?"

He shook his head, avoiding your gaze as he replied: "No, nothing's wrong, I was just wondering... Would you be okay with trying something different tonight?"

That sentence made you fully pause, carefully withdrawing your fingers from him and setting his leg in your other hand back down on the bed. "Oh, of course, sure! Yeah. What do you want to do?"

Mingi winced at the emptiness following the removal of your fingers, the sudden stop to all your touches feeling a bit jarring. Nevertheless, he forced himself to speak, knowing you were waiting and probably worried. "I- I mean, this, still, pretty much, just- can you, like, maybe- could we- you know, from, uh, from behind?"

After a small pause, you began to laugh, much to Mingi's mortification.

"You- you mean, like, if I can fuck you from behind?" You asked between breaths, looking at your horribly red boyfriend with nothing but amused adoration.

"Yeah, pretty much. Just would have preferred to word it a bit differently," Mingi huffed, embarrassed from how everything had flipped against him within seconds.

"Aw, I'm sorry," you apologized softly, though the grin on your face didn't make you seem that remorseful. "But yeah, sure, I'd love to make love to my sweet giant from behind."

"That's even worse!" Mingi cried out, covering his face in horror.

"Just turn around!" You exclaimed back, laughing.

Despite his entire face and chest turning a blaring shade of red, Mingi gingerly obliged. Rolling onto his stomach, he awkwardly pulled his knees up. After a few seconds, he had finally settled, this time with his ass in the air and facing the headboard instead of you.

"Ready?" You asked warmly, taking in the sight before you. Usually, you loved being able to watch your boyfriend fall apart under you, but this view was undeniably beautiful as well.

"I think so?" Mingi replied, wiggling in place as if trying to gauge the situation. "Feels a bit weird on my knees, though."

"Ah, don't worry about that. You just need to-"

Letting your actions speak for you, you nudged his thighs further apart, spreading his weight more evenly between them. You could hear Mingi's breath hitch at the action, surprised by the sudden manhandling.

And the surprises didn't end there, it seemed. With every other touch, Mingi would jolt just the slightest bit, clenching down around your fingers as you tried to finish prepping him. After a particularly big jump when your free hand rubbed his side, however, you decided to just withdraw your hand altogether, only moving the one inside him. With the way he kept tightening around you from surprise, you would never get him where you wanted him otherwise.

Despite the vague sinking feeling in his chest at your lack of touches, Mingi didn't say anything. Instead, he began drifting away into his mind, trying to decipher how he was currently feeling.

The change of position was... confusing, to say the least.

From what he'd heard, this was supposed to make everything feel more primal, more intense and rough. But to Mingi, everything just felt disconnected and unnecessary. If he wanted you to be rougher, he could just ask and you'd adjust accordingly, no matter the position. And what could possibly be more intense than looking into your partner's eyes while one is literally inside of the other? And as for how primal and instinctual this was supposed to feel, it sure made Mingi think a lot more than he usually would. Speaking of which, he really-

"...Mingi?"

The sudden call of his name broke him out of his daze, making him lift his head up from the pillows to look at you.

"...Yeah?"

"Are you okay?" You asked softly, letting your free hand rest on his lower back. Now that he was watching your movements, he shouldn't startle as easily as before. "You got really quiet all of a sudden, so I just wanted to check. Do you want to turn around again?"

"What? No," Mingi dismissed the suggestion, but the waver in his voice didn't sound very convincing. "O-or, I mean, just for a little bit, maybe?"

You sighed, giving him a small, tired smile before helping him lie down on his back again. "Alright, so what's all this about?"

Mingi shrugged, subconsciously biting at his lip. "I don't know. I just, you know, felt like trying something new?"

"And what made you want to try in the first place?" You pressed on, knowing Mingi wasn't one to change his ways unless something else pushed him into it.

Silence stretched between the two of you, Mingi avoiding your eyes as he tried to form his response.

"...Promise you won't laugh?"

Your heart clenched at the vulnerability in his words, making your gaze soften even more. "Of course I won't. I'm sorry if me laughing before upset you, but really, you can tell me anything. I promise I won't judge."

Mingi nodded at your words, steeling himself for his well-overdue explanation.

"It's, well... It's because of the guys. Later on at the bar, the topic of sex and different positions and whatnot came up and they all agreed on how lame missionary is. And don't get me wrong, I love being able to see you! It just made me wonder if I was maybe holding you back a bit since my preferences are pretty simple, so I thought we could try and see. I know I should have said this in advance, but I just couldn't find it in myself to do so. I'm sorry for ruining tonight, but it just doesn't feel right to keep going like that."

"Mingi..." You murmured softly, reaching up to cup your boyfriend's cheek. "I get that it must have felt awful to hear everyone indirectly shame you for what you like, but trust me, if I was ever unhappy with what we do in the bedroom, I'd tell you immediately. What does it matter if your friends think we're too basic? If we like it, we like it and that's that. Unless there's something you personally want to try, there's no reason to force anything just to 'spice things up'."

"...So you don't mind doing it like this?" Mingi asked hesitantly, vaguely gesturing at the two of you.

"Mingi," you said with a small chuckle, shaking your head in disbelief. "Not only do I not mind things the way they are, I love it."

His breath hitched as you leaned down to loom over him, using your other hand that wasn't holding his cheek to grab his waist. Smirking, you continued: "I love seeing you under me like this, so pliant and vulnerable just for me. I love watching your legs open and make room for me so that I can take care of you. And just as much, if not more, I love pulling them apart myself, holding you just the way I want and watching you squirm on my-"

"For the love of God please fuck me right this second or I'm gonna go insane," Mingi begged in a strained voice, practically writhing under you from the intensity of your gaze and tone.

Just as expected, it only took a few words of horny reassurance to get your attention-loving boyfriend back on track.

"As you wish, princess," you said teasingly, pressing one quick kiss to his lips before pulling back. "Is this position okay with you, or are you still worried about other people's opinions over mine?"

"Fuck them," Mingi said bluntly, desperately. "And most importantly fuck me, please!"

You laughed out loud at his demand, but quickly got back into the usual headspace. Gripping the backs of his knees, you basically folded him in half, making him gasp at the slight strain before he got the message and held his legs up for you. Smiling appreciatively, you pecked both of his knees before finally lining up with his entrance.

"Hold on tight, baby."

Wooyoung (awkward dirty talk, degradation, hair-pulling, manhandling, slapping, a few tears)

Wooyoung had always thought he was into degradation.

Now, to his defense, he definitely is to some degree! The two of you have long figured out it excites him whenever you're just a tad mean to him, whether that means pushing him around a bit, ordering him to do things for you just because you don't feel like doing them yourself, or any other sort of mild, loving bullying.

And so, naturally, Wooyoung thought it would be a great idea to apply this to the bedroom as well. How could this go wrong? If he popped a boner whenever you talked down to him outside of sex, it was only logical to bring it there as well.

Soon after his genius realization, Wooyoung began thinking - or scheming, to be exact. Whenever he had the time and was in the right mood, he'd curl up with his phone and continue his ongoing research. Filing through countless BDSM forums and reading up on other people's experiences with the kink, he couldn't help but get aroused himself. As it turns out, humanity has figured out countless ways to degrade someone, but what stood out the most to Wooyoung were two things: slapping and name-calling. The more he read stories about subs getting humbled by their doms, the more he couldn't get the image of the two of you out of his head. He could imagine it so clearly, with you catching him misbehaving once again, but unlike all the other times when you'd just punish him by restraining him or dictating how and when he could cum, you'd decide to belittle him instead. You'd throw him to the floor with your hand tangled in his hair, make him kneel before you and keep his head low as you told him exactly what you thought of him. And when he'd still refuse to listen, that's when you'd finally get physical.

Ugh, just the thought of it was getting him hard again. The sooner he talks to you about this, the better.

It only took a few days for Wooyoung to muster up enough courage to sit you down after dinner, leaning against your thigh as he tried to propose the idea as confidently as he could.

Most of that confidence faded, however, as you began to voice your concerns about the suggestion.

"Woo, baby, are you sure?" You asked uneasily, moving to hold the hand resting on your thigh. "I know I tease you a lot outside of the bedroom, but it's a lot more vulnerable inside it. I don't want to actually hurt you on accident, be it verbally or physically."

"Oh don't worry babe, it's gonna be fine!" Wooyoung tried to reassure you with a foxy smile, rubbing your thigh as he spoke. "Besides, you already rough me up during sex enough as is, a slap or two won't break me."

You sighed, tightening your grip on his hand to stop it from wandering any further. "I know, babe, but all of that just feels... different, I don't know. It's one thing to throw you around and make your dick hurt from overstimulation, but to just slap you out of nowhere feels like hurting you for no reason. I like forcing you back in line when you misbehave, but there are many other ways of doing that than by hitting you."

Growing frustrated at your unnecessary cautiousness, Wooyoung let out a petulant whine. "Baby I'm telling you, it's gonna be fine! Just try to take a risk for once and trust me, please? The second either of us gets uncomfortable we'll stop immediately, I promise."

Silence stretched between the two of you as you mulled over his words, only to concede in the end, much to Wooyoung's excitement. He made sure to let you know just how much he appreciated this and how safe this was all going to be one more time before finally delving into the fantasy that had been brewing in his mind in more detail.

...

"I leave you alone for two hours, and this is what I come back to?!" You yelled incredulously at your boyfriend, who was currently spread out on the bed, hard dick in hand and stark naked.

"I-I'm sorry babe, I didn't know you would be back so early- ah!" He yelped as you gripped his hair and tugged back, forcing him to look at you.

"That is not the issue and you know it," you growled, looking into Wooyoung's eyes for any signs of guilt or remorse, only to come out empty-handed and even angrier. "You only have so many rules to remember, one would think even a dumb slut like you could abide by them while I'm gone."

Wooyoung groaned at your words, his free hand coming up to try and ease your grip on his hair, but to no avail. "I'm not."

"You're not what?" You spat back before slapping away his other hand that was still wrapped around his erection.

"I'm not a slut," he opposed indignantly, throwing you a defiant look. "And I'm not dumb. I just had to take matters into my own hands since you've been ignoring me all day."

The four seconds of silence felt like an eternity as you looked deep into his eyes, making him subconsciously shrink in on himself.

Next thing he knew, he was whimpering as his body hit the ground, the pull on his hair just strong enough to bring tears to his eyes. You didn't give him a moment of reprieve, tugging him to his knees and forcing him to look up at you again.

"So you're not a slut, huh?" You gritted through your clenched teeth, leaning down until you were mere millimeters away from his face. "Then tell me, my honey dearest," you continued, your tone turning sickly sweet as you pulled away from him again, "why you would go out of your way to touch yourself without my permission like some- like some pussy-starved whore?"

And there it was. Resonating through the bedroom, the slap landed right on his left cheek, throwing his head to the side. It stung more than he'd thought it would, in more ways than one. Before he knew it, the tears in his eyes started spilling over, far too quickly for him to try to stop them. He pressed his lips together as heat quickly spread through his cheeks, both from the impact and from the shame washing over him.

This clearly wasn't working for Wooyoung the way he expected it to.

A gentle hand cupped his right cheek, gingerly turning his head back. He silently complied, only to be met with the sight of you kneeling in front of him, your own eyes wide and teary as you worriedly examined his face. He could feel your hands trembling slightly, only adding to the growing pit in his stomach. He made you do this. He made you feel awful for his own fuck-up.

"Wooyoung? Wooyoungie, are you okay? I'm so, so sorry," you fretted over him frantically, caressing his stinging cheek as carefully as you could. "I hit you too hard, didn't I? I'm so sorry. Please don't cry, does it hurt a lot? Do you need ice?"

Wooyoung shook his head at your panicked questions, taking hold of your wrists before pulling them away from his face. "It's okay, I'm- I'm fine," he choked out, clearing his throat as he blinked any remaining tears away. "You didn't do anything wrong, I asked you to do this. I should be the one that's sorry, and I really am."

"Please don't apologize, babe," you insisted. "I shouldn't have hit you as hard as I did, it's my fault. Come on, let's get up and put some ice on it just in case, okay? Then we can talk about this."

Which is how Wooyoung finds himself here, sitting butt-naked by the kitchen island in nothing but a loose shirt, holding a slowly thawing bag of frozen vegetables to his cheek while you clean up in the bedroom. A few minutes later, he hears the unmistakable sound of feet pitter-pattering against the apartment's linoleum, causing his heartbeat to stutter as he braces himself for the impending conversation.

"So," you begin resolutely, taking a seat on the bar stool next to his, "that didn't work out."

Wooyoung lets out a humorless chuckle at your comment, nodding his head dazedly. "Yup."

When he doesn't elaborate, you prod further. "Hun, you don't have to talk about this yet if you don't want to, but what was it that made you cry? I definitely overdid it with the slap, but a lot was happening at once so I just want to make sure I know what we should avoid next time."

Wooyoung sighs before finally turning to you. "Honestly, it was a bit of everything, I guess." He smiles at you sadly, pulling your hand to rest in his lap. "The manhandling, the things you said and the names you called me, the slap itself, all of it just combined so badly and made me feel inferior, and not in a sexy way."

"I thought you liked that though?" You somehow manage to question in a way that doesn't come off as accusing, just genuinely curious. "Was it just too much this time? Did I do it wrong somehow?"

Shaking his head, Wooyoung huffs out a small sound of disagreement. His free hand absentmindedly plays with your fingers in his lap. "No, no, you didn't do anything wrong. It's just..."

"It's just?" You try to encourage him, stopping his fidgeting by interlocking your hand with his.

With another disappointed sigh leaving his lips, Wooyoung finally caves. "It's just that you were right. You know, before, when I brought this whole thing up to you like an idiot and pushed you into doing it despite your qualms with it. Just because something is hot outside of the bedroom doesn't mean it will feel the same way when you actually get that much more intimate and vulnerable. I didn't believe you at first but now I know. I'm sorry."

Groaning, you jump down from the bar stool you were sitting on to get even closer to your boyfriend. "Babe please, stop apologizing, it's not your fault", you complain as you pull him into a hug. "You didn't push me into anything, I would have said no if I was genuinely uncomfortable with the idea. So let's just stop blaming ourselves, okay? We both messed up in different ways tonight, but it's okay. We stopped when we needed to and now we're talking it out. That's all that matters."

Turning on the stool to face you directly, Wooyoung dives into the crook of your neck, making sure not to touch you with the cheek he was just icing. You feel him nod into your skin before relaxing against you as your hand starts playing with his hair.

"...So does this mean you're still okay with being a bit mean to me outside of the bedroom?"

You huff out a chuckle, making Wooyoung laugh quietly as well.

"If that's what your heart desires, then gladly."

Jongho (bondage, a mild-ish panic attack - crying, being unable to breathe)

When it came to your and Jongho's intimate life, you wanted to take things slow.

Now, it's not like sex was a completely foreign concept in your relationship - you'd already crossed that line a few months ago. You asking Jongho to sub for you, however, introduced a pretty new dynamic to him. Until now, everything that went down in your bedroom was mostly vanilla and with no real power dynamics, so this came as quite a surprise. He decided to indulge, you, though, undeniably intrigued himself.

And what do you know, Jongho ended up really enjoying it! So much so, in fact, that it was now he who would ask you to explore your dominant side more, to tell him what to do and how to do it.

As time passed and the two of you got more comfortable in your roles, it was as if a whole new world of possibilities had suddenly opened up for you. There was so much to try out with him, on him, that you could barely contain your excitement.

But alas, you wanted to take things slow, both to preserve the thrill as long as possible and to not overwhelm either of you with anything.

Starting out with the basics, like some slightly rougher touches, hair pulling, and dirty talk, Jongho was surprised to find himself eagerly on board with everything. This then led you to the next thing you desperately wanted to try: bondage.

At this suggestion, Jongho was a bit more apprehensive. He'd always liked his personal space and freedom of movement, so to have that taken away from him sounded a bit scary, even if it was you doing it.

Nevertheless, and especially after seeing your excited face as you waited for his response, he agreed.

"Everything okay? Try pulling on it a bit, does it hurt?" You asked your blushing boyfriend, watching as he gingerly pulled at the rope tied around his wrist. He was lying on his back below you, dressed in nothing but his boxers while you sat on his chest to work on restraining him.

"It's- it's fine, I think," Jongho muttered with bated breath, letting you carefully examine the rope before moving on to his other arm. Already, the way you were sitting on his chest while tying his hands felt a bit claustrophobic, but he just chalked it up to the anxiety of trying out new things. It wasn't unusual for him to get nervous when experimenting with you, so it really shouldn't be a big deal now.

The moment you picked up his other hand, though, Jongho's breath stuttered. With his remaining free hand in your hold, he began to feel truly powerless. Chewing on his bottom lip, he watched as you wrapped the rope around the headboard before connecting it to his wrist, trying to keep his focus on the pretty blue color of the material to ease his growing worry.

"Okay, now try this one," you spoke, eyes flitting to Jongho's wide, precious eyes. "Good?"

Jongho did as told, eyebrows furrowing as he tried to pull his wrist free but couldn't. His already loud heart started beating even faster as a strange feeling pressed against his lungs. Despite this, he nodded anyway, eyes avoiding your gaze as he spoke: "Yeah, 's good."

You smiled, shuffling down his chest to rest against his hips. "Alright then," you whispered, "you ready?"

Against all better judgment, Jongho confidently nodded his head, determined to enjoy himself tonight. He could already feel the need to touch you whining at him from the inside, desperate to hold you to ground himself, but he promptly ignored it. After all, that's supposed to be the point of this, isn't it? To restrict your frustrated and needy sub and give them only what you deem they've earned.

Smoothing your hands over his chest, Jongho moaned, eagerly arching into your touch to try to get out of his anxious mind. You only chuckled at his responsiveness, leaning forward to pepper kisses everywhere your hands just traveled. Trailing your nails over his pecs, you stopped at his nipples, teasingly circling around the buds before giving them a quick pinch.

Jongho let out a weak whine at the sensation, making the headboard creak above him as he tugged at the ropes. The sound made you smirk, telling you just how much your actions were affecting your boyfriend without even having to look up.

Perhaps you should have, though, as Jongho's nervous but sure facade quickly began to crumble. His hands kept grabbing at nothing, frustration bubbling up in him as you were so close and he needed to touch you so bad, and yet he just couldn't. He knew he could trust you with his life, that you wouldn't harm him in any way, yet he couldn't help but feel trapped. Like this, with no way to ground himself through touch, everything felt so much more intense, so chaotic and out of his control, and not in a good way.

"You're being such a good boy for me Jongie," you cooed after a while of playing with his chest, both of his nipples now red and sensitive. Looking into his glossy eyes, you leaned down to trap his lips in a passionate kiss, which he meekly returned a moment later. You swallowed each rugged breath and whine coming from his mouth as your hands started trailing down, one stopping to massage his waist while the other kept lowering. You moved to sit a bit lower again, this time on his thighs, making more room for your next ministrations. Eyes still closed while you kept kissing him, you relied on your memory and touch to guide you down to the hem of his underwear.

When your fingertips finally grazed the fabric of his boxers, you couldn't help but smile into the kiss, your grin growing even wider as you heard the wooden headboard groaning again, louder this time. "Someone's impatient," you teased, receiving something akin to a whimper in return.

Pulling away to let your lover catch his breath, you quickly got to work on his neck, teasing your fingers against the band of his underwear just a little longer before finally slipping inside. Your hand wrapped around him just as you bit the sweet spot on his neck, eagerly sucking at the sensitive skin. This time, Jongho pulled at the ropes even stronger, a full-on sob ripping from his chest. He choked on the sound midway through, however, still too winded from your kiss to properly breathe.

Though whines and whimpers were nothing uncommon from him, something about his frantic breathing tipped you off immediately.

"Baby, are you oka-" you gasped as soon as you saw his visible distress, hyperventilating while tears ran down his cheeks. "Jongho! Oh my god, what happened?!" You immediately sat up straight, pulling your hands away from him and reaching for the restraints instead.

"It's-" Jongho began, only to choke on another sob, "I'm sorry, I can't, please, I don't-"

"Calm down baby, it's okay," you told him as softly and comfortingly as you could, suppressing the panic writhing inside you. "Just breathe with me while I get these off, alright?"

Jongho tried his best to listen, focusing on each rise and fall of your chest as he clumsily followed along. The moment he felt you tugging on the ropes again, however, another scared whimper escaped his lips.

"I know love, I'm sorry, just hold on," you tried to shush him, willing your hands to stop trembling and fumbling with the knots to free him as quickly as possible.

At last, the tight knot finally came undone, falling off your boyfriend's wrist. He immediately pulled it away from the headboard, reaching over to grab at you instead.

You let him clutch your thigh while you struggled with his other hand, inwardly cursing yourself for not practicing the knots more. His nails dug into your leg whenever you tugged a little too much, clearly still stuck in the fight-flight headspace he'd managed to slip into.

The moment both of his hands were freed, Jongho grasped onto your back, pulling you into his chest and pressing his thighs against you from behind to lock you into the embrace. The position was a bit awkward, bending you down in his lap and almost suffocating you against his body. You didn't consider moving away for a second, though, far too focused on your boyfriend's comfort.

The two of you stayed like this for a few minutes, with Jongho's breaths steadily evening out while you rubbed his sides and shoulder blades as much as your position allowed.

Then, the silence was broken.

"I'm sorry," Jongho croaked out, easing his hold on you as you finally sat up again. "I don't know what happened to me just now or why I couldn't say my safeword sooner, but I just- I'm so sorry."

You looked at him incredulously. "What are you sorry for? You're the one in distress, why should you be apologizing for anything?" You huffed, gently brushing his hair back into place. "If anything, I should be the one apologizing for not noticing sooner. And I really am sorry, I should have been more careful considering this was our first time trying this out."

Jongho just shook his head, squeezing your waist and hips absentmindedly. "No, that's not true. You trusted me to say the safeword if anything felt like too much, and I didn't do it. Or I couldn't, I guess."

Confused, your brows furrowed as you looked into his eyes. "What do you mean, 'couldn't'?"

Jongho sighed, cheeks heating up as a fresh wave of shame washed over him. No matter how hard he tried, being vulnerable was still a challenge at times, even with you. "I- I don't know... I guess I just felt lost, in a way. I didn't want to keep going anymore but you looked like you were enjoying it a lot and that made me second-guess myself and I got stuck in that loop until you noticed."

You mirrored Jongho's sigh, though yours was a lot less embarrassed and a lot more worried. "Honey," you spoke sternly, watching his eyes immediately flick back up to yours. "You know I love you, right?"

His eyes widened at the sudden question, but he quickly nodded anyway. "Of course I do! And I love you too, but... why do you ask?"

"Well, since you know I love you, you also know that I'd never knowingly push you past your limits just because I enjoy it, right? The only time I feel good is when I know you're feeling just as good as me, if not more," you explained softly but firmly, making sure the message stuck. "Please, promise me you'll never put my pleasure over your comfort ever again. Just because I'm the one calling the shots during a scene doesn't mean you should disregard your own feelings like that."

Silence filled the room as Jongho took in your words, stunned. His mouth opened as if to reply, but before he could, his lips started to tremble as a new wave of tears clouded his vision. He pressed his lips together, trying his best to suppress the sudden surge of emotions in his chest.

How could someone be this nice and gentle with him?

Perhaps that's what he was missing during the scene - that feeling that despite his submission, it was still him who ultimately decided what was okay and what wasn't. That at any point, he could just pull you off of him if he needed to, that he could escape any of the vulnerable situations you put him in. So when his hands were suddenly tied up, taking away that safety and security, it was only natural for him to panic.

He was not to blame.

Taking a deep breath to compose himself, Jongho blinked away the tears in his eyes, giving you a tired but genuine smile instead.

"Promise."

taglist (one last time!!): @justconniez @domribo @another-random-fanfic-blog @imrllytootiredforthis

Thank you for reading! And remember, feedback is always very appreciated! <3

[hello-gloomy]

Can I request Stanley snyder with a breath taking beauty s/o ?????? Please 😭😭😭 ( add dr.xeno and senku if u are comfortable )

Ofc ofc, I do hope you enjoy it!

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Stanley Snyder with Breathtaking! S/O

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Warnings: OOC, sex jokes, corny compliments, mildly uncomfortable attention at the beginning. SCIENCE. SPOLIERS IF YOU HAVEN'T READ THE MANGA!!

A/N: I thought doing a short drabble would suit this request. I hope you enjoy it. ;^

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After Xeno and Stanley reached a truce with Senku's group, things started to mellow for all parties involved. You built a larger building for everyone to live in, made plans for the moon project, and planned a celebration for all the progress made.

You had a plenitude of people surrounding you from both colonies, and you had to keep your face from screwing up from having the same compliments over and over again.

Stanley noticed your discomfort and excused himself from the two mad scientists he associated with, along with the ex-magician( with a few witty marks from the latter)

The crowd started to back off as he moved closer to you. When he got to where you were, he cleared his throat while crossing his arms, giving a cold stare to the last few men who were bothering you.

"Mind If I sit here?"

You give your savior a sweet smile and tell him yes; he politely puts out his cigarette and sits beside you, leaving a space between them. You fidget briefly before mustering up some courage and moving closer to him. He glances around before swiping his arm and pulling you by the hip to flush you against his side. You giggle at his antics and whisper a thank you just for him.

"Anything for you, my love."

You feel a few glares from other guys and a bit of grumbling about Stanley taking your attention for himself; the two of you whisper to yourselves in your little world, Stanley showering you with compliments, much more original than the previous ones.

"You sure you weren't a model in the old world?"

"Keep looking at me with those eyes, and you might turn me back to stone."

You heard a groan and some movement beside you: Xeno, Gen, and Senku have joined your originally exclusive party. Gen passes the two drinks with a smirk.

"I feel bad for Ukyo and what he just had to hear." -Senku

"Feel bad, I had to read his lips." -Gen

"On account of his previous remarks, I'm sure something turned to stone alright with how close the two of you are." -Gen

Xeno choked on his drink while Senku and his partner-in-crime cackled at the nosy quips. You pat the doctor on his back while Stan claps the two young adults on the back of their heads.

"Maybe I should make Ukyo some noise-canceling headphones." -Xeno

"I hate kids." -Stan

"Watch it boomer" -Senku

You give Senku a look and ask who he's calling old, and he goes on to tell you the age categories and where you and the other gentleman lie at.

"And in reality, you are closer to our age category." -Senku

"Oh yeah, Sen, keep talking. I'm gonna stroke it to this later." -Gen

"I think I'm needed at the lab." -Xeno

You are starting to miss when everyone was slightly at each other's throats. Another friend comes over and catches the younger two, giving the three of you a leisurely getaway. Hand in hand with your lover, you notice Xeno's gaze on you. And ask him what's on his mind.

"Did you know the brain activates areas linked to pleasure and reward when taking in beautiful things?" -Xeno

"I don't need science to tell me how breathtaking she is when I can see her daily to remind myself." -Stanley ♡

[yanderes-galore]

Hey if it's okay I can request a yandere doflamingo with prompts 25 "if you weren't such a dumbass, this wouldn't have happened" and 6 "tell me darling. do you like making me mad". Where darling gets caught trying to escape with the help of a friend or family member.

Oof, I'm writing one creep after another. Here's Doflamingo being... himself.

Prompts Here

Yandere! Doflamingo Prompts 25 + 6

“If you werent such a dumbass, this wouldn’t have happned.”

“Tell me, Do you like making me mad??” 

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Possessive behavior, Swearing (Obviously), Kidnapping, Isolation, Violence, Murder, Blood, Threats, Forced relationship.

The sickening crack of a flintlock pistol goes off in your ears. You barely registered the scream that left your mouth. Even as a loud thump hits the ground... you barely register this as reality.

"Sweetheart... People don't just leave the Donquixote Family..." A familiar deep voice purrs, a large figure shuffling closer.

"Especially not with help from outsiders...."

You knew what he said was true. With how deep you were into the Donquixote Pirates, there was no way you were going to get off with no issue. Your plan was a desperate yet foolish one...

Even more so considering Doflamingo was your 'lover'...

Not by your choice.

It was not your intention to gain Doflamingo's attention. You saw him and his crew as tyrants and wanted nothing to do with him. Unfortunately...

Doflamingo always found your defiance attractive.

Against your family's wishes, Doflamingo claimed he wanted you to join his crew. Normally it's rather difficult to be a part of his 'family'. Although... you weren't meant to be like the rest...

You've always been more of a pet or a toy compared to a genuine lover.

Taken from your family against your will, Doflamingo claimed you to be his. You were made to always follow the Warlord around. If he was busy, you were to stay in his palace like a good pet until he came back.

You had been with Doflamingo for... nearly two years. Doflamingo's influence made escape plans difficult to put together. So for a year and a half... You've been trying to play a good pet for Doffy while your family escapes Dressrosa.

Most of your family managed to escape amongst the chaos of Doflamingo's rule... and because you pleaded with Doflamingo to spare them. Your new ruler complied, but only because you were to be his. Since then you've waited to escape with secret correspondence... Waiting for the day you could escape...

Today was meant to be that day.

But you should've known Doflamingo could read what you were doing.

"Tsk... I should've known you'd disrespect our deal." Doflamingo scoffs, twirling the steaming flintlock in his hands.

You barely recognize his words, too focused on the slowly bleeding body in front of you. They were a family member of yours, one who promised to come save you. Now they had a lead bullet through their skull...

The bloody sight makes you nauseous... but this fate was probably the most merciful thing Doflamingo could've done.

You've seen him massacre many with his strings throughout the months.

"Sweetheart... We both know this plan was foolish." Doflamingo hums, stepping closer to tower over you. You flinch when he turns you, grabbing your chin to force your gaze upwards.

"If you weren't such a dumbass, this wouldn’t have happened." Doflamingo states bluntly, a grimace on his face. "Don't look at me like this is my fault. If you just kept being a good pet like we agreed on... I wouldn't have to shoot them for thinking they owned you."

Owned... right.... What did you expect from someone that came from Celestial Dragon lineage? He thought he owned you....

"Love... Sometimes I really do wonder about your naughty behavior...." Doflamingo scoffs, tugging you away from the newly made corpse on the dock when he sees you try to reach for it.

You struggle when he pulls you along, hand on the back of your shirt as though he was dragging a stray cat. You struggle against him but Doflamingo merely tugs you in front of him... making you tumble to your knees.

"Tell me, Sweetheart. Do you like making me mad?" Doflamingo sneers, amusement not present behind his grin.

You shake your head desperate, making Doflamingo hum as he cups your cheek.

"Even after all this time... and everything I've done for you... I thought I had you tamed." Doflamingo frowns, caressing your skin. "Yet you defy me even now. How naughty, pet...."

Doflamingo kneels down to your height, catching sight of the blood that stained. There's no sympathy in his eyes when he sees it. In fact... He just grins.

He's happy knowing your rescue is dead.

"Maybe this was punishment enough, hm?" Doflamingo teases, admiring how defeated you look. "However, you've betrayed my trust..."

You tense when Doflamingo hoists you up from the ground, practically holding you over his shoulder. You know better than to struggle at this point. He's already mad enough.

"Looks like my cute little pet needs some... lessons." Doflamingo hums, carrying you as if you're a child having a tantrum. "Don't worry... I'll have you at my command this time."

The warlord chuckles as you shift in his arms, causing him to pull you back enough to look you in the eyes.

"You don't need that family of yours. Your family is with me." Doflamingo hums, lips ghosting over your neck.

"I'll hunt that family of yours down if you're going to keep disobeying me, sweetheart." Doflamingo warns, gently nibbling at your skin.

"You don't want that, do you?" Doflamingo hums in a taunting tone against your skin, making you shake your head. "No, of course you don't..."

You then feel him bite down harshly, making you squeak as he carries you back to his palace... the hell you're meant to call home...

"So let's hope by the end of your punishment... You learn your place."

[lsunstreakerl]

for the kink prompt: maybe some catboy max? im such a sucker for subby max asking for (read: silently demanding) attention

don't ask me any worldbuilding questions or the color of anything. (especially don't ask me how it ended up being 1.5k words. I swear I was watching the word count.) this is pretty much complete smut. you weren't very specific with what kind of catboy, so I went with whatever. this is... probably not what you were thinking of. here you go anyways :)

HI this is. very clearly a kink prompt fill. terribly explicit content ahead I'm afraid. not violent just horny.

pairings: lewis hamilton/nico rosberg, lewis hamilton/max verstappen, implied lewis hamilton/max verstappen/nico rosberg

relevant heads up: return of the the maxussy, people/animal hybrids as pets, heats.

Nobody told Nico how much work having a catboy was going to be. Max likes to cause problems- he'll curl up all sweet on their laps before randomly deciding to bite, he has a personal vendetta with Lewis's monstera in the dining room, and he's outscored them both on every single competitive video game they have.

The shelter said he was still young, and had warned them his personality was still developing- and like a pair of complete idiots both Nico and Lewis had thought that was cute.

Now they have a menace.

Jenson had practically cried laughing at them the first time Nico called to ask for advice, before informing him that Sebastian was equally as terrible until they got him Charles.

Nico isn't sure adding another cat to the mix is going to fix anything- and Max is actually being cute now, sprawled across Lewis on the couch purring. His tail flicks occasionally, soft swishes against the side of the couch, and sometimes his ears will twitch at a noise, but he's being behaved.

Probably because Lewis has just gotten back from looping them both around Monte-Carlo a few times, trying to get some of the excess energy out.

It's worked, thankfully.

Nico wanders over, leaning down to kiss Lewis as one hand reaches into Max's hair, scratching between his ears.

The purring ratchets up a notch, and Max's eyes blink open slowly, nestling his face further into Lewis's chest.

"Did Lew finally wear you out, you little beast?"

Max simply stretches out his legs, whole body arching with a soft noise before he's curling back up. He's watching Nico lazily, and Lewis's hand is running down his back in long, smooth strokes.

"I guess we need to add more running into the routine. He liked watching the harbor- we should see if he's interested in swimming sometime."

Nico raises an eyebrow.

"Lewis, he's a cat."

Lewis shrugs, scratching down Max's spine.

"So? He's a weird cat."

Nico can't exactly argue that.

------

Lewis is trying to get some paperwork handled for Toto, but Max is being suspicious. Suspicious as in he's being behaved.

He's curled up tight in the armchair, watching out the balcony window. His ears are alert and forward, and Lewis isn't sure he's actually moved a whole lot in the last hour. The very tip of his tail twitches occasionally, and his hands are neatly folded in his lap.

On the one hand- Lewis should probably go check that out. On the other hand- Max is not currently trying to bite at Lewis, or his plants, or putting holes in the curtains, so he's inclined to let it slide, at least until he gets a few more emails done.

It's only when he's hitting send that he realizes. Max doesn't usually spend time in the home office with him, because it's boring unless he's actively being a brat, but sometimes, when the weather is nice enough-

Lewis sighs, rolling his eyes as he stands and makes his way over to the chair, trying to see what Max is seeing.

Yup. Carlos is throwing a frisbee for Daniel down by the harbor, both of them tanned and shirtless. Lewis has no idea how either of them have that much energy, but- he supposes that's why Carlos got an Aussie. They're excitable like that.

Unlike Lewis and Nico, who have ended up with a bratty Dutchie. Max is technically also Belgian, but not enough to be on his pedigree, so his papers read standard Amsterdam.

"Stop ogling the neighbors dog, please."

Max makes a small noise in the back of his throat, looking back up at Lewis. His eyes are larger than normal, and when Lewis gently rubs at his ears, he's running a bit hotter than usual as well.

Shit.

"Oh, oh no. Are you seriously in heat?"

Max just blinks, pushing his head further into Lewis's palm. Lewis sighs, leaning down and wrapping an arm under his thighs before lifting. Max snuggles into him and starts purring.

It's sweeter than Lewis would like to admit. Max's tail brushes against his thigh as he walks them into the bedroom, dropping Max down onto the bed.

If blatantly staring at the neighbors hadn't given it away, the way Max drops his legs open and arches his back is a clear sign of heat.

"I know, I'm on it sweetheart, one second."

Lewis shoots off a text to Nico before digging into one of the drawers. They'd known it was a possibility- one of the perks of having catboys is the high sex drive, and Dutchies are particularly known for it- something about the Amsterdam line just makes them needy.

The shelter had informed them that Max hadn't had a heat since he was rescued, but that they might return on a regular schedule in a stable environment. Apparently, Lewis and Nico have finally provided that, six months after bringing Max home.

Nico is going to be so jealous he's not present for the start of Max's.

Max whines from the bed, and Lewis snags a few of the toys before coming back over. Poor Max is already a mess- a clear wetness soaking into the sweatpants they keep him in, tail flicking. His ears are slightly pinned back, and he's kneading at the duvet.

Lewis swings a leg over the bed, straddling Max's thighs as he brings his hands to his chest, already puffy and soft under his palms.

Max keens, arching up into him, and Lewis knows he's going to have his hands full until Nico gets home.

"I've got you, don't worry."

Lewis lifts up for a moment, sliding the sweatpants off and tossing them somewhere across the room. Max's thighs are shiny with slick, and Nico's going to kill him for doing this without him, but there's no way Lewis is going to resist- brings his head down and licks a stripe across Max's core, hot and wet.

Max's thighs clamp around his head, and Lewis grins, brings his hands up, gripping one of Max's thighs with his right, holding him down by the waist with his left.

Max bucks into his mouth, already making cute little noises above him.

Lewis brings his head back down, traces out patterns into Max with his tongue as he progressively falls further apart, before he licks a bit higher, latches his mouth around Max's clit and sucks.

Max wails, shuddering under Lewis's hands as he comes, and he's definitely making a mess, slick dripping out of him. Lewis doesn't mind- they'll change the sheets later.

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, crawling up Max's stomach to toy with his chest again, even as Max squirms underneath him, panting.

"Be good, sweetheart. Nico will be home soon."

Max's eyes are big and wet as he looks at him, and Lewis really can't help it, not when he's being cute.

Nico won't know if he sneaks two before he gets home.

He runs his hand between Max's legs, collecting slick before pressing it to Max's mouth, feels his rough tongue lapping at Lewis's fingers.

Lewis takes back every comment he's made about Max being badly behaved- if he's this sweet his entire heat, every time, Lewis will pretend not to notice the missing leaves on his plants.

Max is sucking at his fingers like it's what he was born to do, even though he must feel needy and empty, and Lewis half wonders if the solution to his behavioral problems is just keeping him horny.

He'll run it by Nico later.

Lewis leans down to suck at Max's chest, leaves little bite marks across his skin before catching a nipple in his teeth and nipping, listening to the breathy noise Max makes.

He keeps at it, letting it slowly build, because if he can also teach some patience here it'll be a miracle. Max is getting red underneath him, splotches across his neck and down his chest, and he can't stay still under Lewis's wandering hands.

Lewis can tell he's getting close when Max starts frantically clawing at his back and biceps as he keeps teasing him, before Lewis finally gives in and shoves a thigh between his legs, right up against his wet heat.

Max immediately grinds up, desperate and needy, chasing pleasure against the muscle of Lewis's leg. It's a bit of a power rush, knowing he could move it back, leave Max hanging until Nico gets here. He doesn't, because he's not feeling that mean, and Max has been good today.

It doesn't take very long before Max comes again, riding the orgasm with weak little shivers, still keeping Lewis's thigh clamped between his own.

Lewis can heart the clatter of keys into the bowl in the living room, and then their door is swinging open, Nico's eyes immediately dropping to the bed.

"You got started without me!"

Lewis grins, deliberately grinds his thigh down where Max is still oversensitive just to hear him whine, watch him twitch away from it below him.

"I wouldn't be too worried about missing anything."

Nico's already pulling off his jacket and shirt, making his way to the bed. His eyes are dark, focused on Lewis and Max like something he wants to eat.

Lewis is sure his own expression isn't much better.

[traincat]

Hi! I was rereading your fics and noticed that in Sticks and Stones you mentioned referencing Claremont's F4 run. Now it's haunting me because I can't find where their origin is brought up 🥲 So sorry if this has already been asked/answered, but perchance do you remember which issue it was 😅 (if not or even so, do you have any other good F4 origin moments?)

No worries, I've got you. It's a little hard to find if you don't know where to look.

This is a flashback from Fantastic Four v3 (1998) #11-12, which recontextualizes the crash and turns it into a horror story for more than just Ben. Claremont is really interesting as a Fantastic Four writer, and he loves thinking through the implications of Johnny's powers. Here, Johnny absorbed the heat from the shuttle crash, but he can't hold onto it and he goes Nova. The only reason he doesn't kill Reed and Sue accidentally is because Ben shields them with his rocky body. It's a really interesting interpretation because it sets up this dynamic between Ben and Johnny where they can fight with each other because they can't really physically hurt each other unless they're really trying. Ben has a degree of protection against Johnny's flames, and Johnny is fast and fiery. Claremont loves Johnny's powers, though, and he puts a ton of thought into what Johnny can and can't do with them. He also writes a very introspective Johnny. He's one of my top writers of all time for Johnny characterization.

(Just don't go into his run expecting the plot to make sense. It won't. But the characters are fun and the interactions are all really charming. He introduces three new female characters who are all great, too.)

In terms of Johnny's relationship to his powers -- specifically a negative relationship, not just the joy we usually see from him -- I also really recommend the Burn! storyline, which encompasses the first six issues of the Human Torch (2003) miniseries. It's kind of an origin story? It starts before Johnny goes to space with the others and then picks up after the crash, when he returns to high school suddenly not the loser weird kid. Fast forward a few years and his old high school enemy looks him up to ask for his help solving a series of mysterious murders involving the victims being burned alive. Fun stuff, really great ruminations on Johnny, his understanding of fire, and the amount of control he has to exert every day.

(Human Torch #3) You're going to have to put up with a lot of very early 2000s art. It's worth it.

Also not really an origin story but useful in understanding Johnny's origins is the Sue and Johnny power swap arc.

(FF #520) To save Sue's life, Reed swaps her powers with Johnny's, but the timing is pretty bad. Galactus takes Johnny as his herald, while Sue struggles with keeping Johnny's powers under control.

But okay, Fantastic Four origin stories, a crash course. This isn't totally comprehensive, just kind of a collection of my favorites and ones I find interesting.

Fantastic Four (1961) #1: The mother of all origin stories. Pretty one and done. We have to beat the commies to the moon! Cosmic rays! Shuttle crash! We've changed in horrible and fantastic ways! The world will never be the same! It's worth reading if you haven't read it before, but it's no Amazing Fantasy #15.

Byrne's retcon: Byrne doesn't particularly do anything interesting regarding the crash, but it's useful to know the changes he did make to the origin, because they were a point of contention for a long time. In Lee and Kirby's run, Sue and Reed are established as next door neighbors and childhood sweethearts. It's all very sweet. Byrne, though, LOVES an age gap with an older man and a younger woman. This is a theme you'll see repeatedly if you follow his work. Byrne retconned things so Reed first met Sue when he was renting a room at her aunt's house when he was in college and Sue was twelve. It's not great, but it does introduce the concept of Sue and Johnny living with their aunt after their father's incarceration. No run previously had ever mentioned such a thing. While the age gap was both immediately retconned out (Simonson did it as soon as he took the reins, establishing Reed and Sue as college friends, but it didn't stick) and eventually retconned out (Fraction retconned it so that Reed did stay at Aunt Marygay's boarding house but that Sue was over eighteen), the boarding house origin stuck. Not much to do with the actual "getting powers" aspect but interesting in terms of where Sue and Johnny were living when they met Reed and Ben.

Fantastic Four Mythos: Now we're cooking. Mythos is a beautifully illustrated oneshot retelling of how the Fantastic Four gained their powers. It's gorgeous, fun, and emotional. It's probably my second favorite origin story after Claremont's take.

Mythos posits that the emotional state the four were in at the time they were cosmically irradiated is responsible for their powers. Sue was trying to hide, Reed was trying to reach her, Ben was shielding Johnny, and all Johnny could think was that it was hot. It's an interesting interpretation. Sidenote, I'm pretty sure the new Fantastic Four movie is drawing inspiration from Mythos, just based on the visuals.

I love him so much. Idiot baby.

Fantastic Four: First Family: Oh boy where to go with this one. I don't dislike it, and I think it explores the origin in a much more realistic way, but I wouldn't say it's my favorite. First Family is a miniseries that takes a more grounded approach to the origin story. After the crash, the four are imprisoned on a military base as they adjust to their powers.

I think there's a lot of interesting ideas in this version, but I wouldn't really recommend it to any new readers as an origin story. I think it's more of an interesting way to examine things after you're already basically familiar with the FF's early days if you want to see a more grounded take on the origin.

Fantastic Four: Season One: Another miniseries retelling the origins. Is it good? Not particularly. Is it shiny? Yes. Does aged up Johnny work as a pinup model before the accident? Also yes.

It's giving the Chris Pine leather pants desert photoshoot. Again, not my first pick for an origin story by far, but if you want to read some mildly campy nonsense, you could do worse. If you don't want to read it, which is like, probably the smarter idea, please note that Johnny registered the domain name hottieonfire.com and that he's obsessed with the whale from the American Museum of Natural History. Samesies.

Ultimate Fantastic Four #1-5: This feels like the equivalent of going "want to make some bad decisions." Ultimate FF is NOT good. I know I've said that a hundred times. I've also read it a hundred times so who's the idiot now. I do think the origin is an interesting take on things, though, and like First Family it's more grounded in the exploitation of the Fantastic Four by the military. So not good, wouldn't recommend it as baby's first Fantastic Four origin, but not completely not worth reading.

Origin stories I don't recommend:

Fantastic Four v2 (1996): This is when the FF got bubble universed. It's basically a retelling of the early days that doesn't add anything new or interesting.

Fantastic Four: Life Story: Life Story was an interesting experiment. The idea was to have a six issue miniseries where each issue took place during a specific decade -- issue #1 would be the 60s, #2 would be the 70s, etc -- moving the characters through those decades aging in real time and dealing with both the major storylines of those decades as well as the real world events that were happening. Like I said, interesting experiment. The actual comics, though, and I'm counting the Spider-Man one here too, were bad. Like so bad. I'm going to give you the only thing of note in it here and then you don't have to read it. (Don't let this fool you into thinking the rest of the comic is progressive in any way; the writer decided Jewish Ben should say pork was "the food of the Gods" and also that Romani Dr. Doom should put people in concentration camps. Whole yikes.)

(FF Life Story #2) That figure sitting in bed with Johnny sure looks like a guy. Interestingly, for your value of interesting, "perpetual bachelor" Johnny dies in 1986 in issue #4, and issue #5 immediately opens with T'Challa creating a cure for AIDS. Take that one as you will.

One final kind of a rec. This isn't really an origin story for the Fantastic Four as characters, but rather a retrospective meta take on the creation of the Fantastic Four as a series. Fantastic Four: Unstable Molecules is an Eisner winning miniseries dedicated to the fictionalized "real people" who inspired the Fantastic Four, positing that one night at a dinner party on Long Island, two comic book creators encountered a family fight so epic it inspired them to create a comic book. Deeply introspective, it's take on Johnny and the Mole Man (yes really) really shines.

(Unstable Molecules #3) Sorry to turn this into a "Johnny is flaming" discussion once again. It just kind of comes up naturally when you look at his origin stories.

[incorrect-rangers-quotes]

okay i got 20 tags in on a reblog of this before i thought i might as well bite the bullet and just write normal hahah. there are so many angles to look from here that i want to find and think about this later :)

someone in the tags said "he's calm when he wants to be" and i think that's pretty well-phrased. i personally would put it like this - halt is very level-headed when it comes to things like danger and combat and strategy, because when you do as much Danger and Combat and Strategy as rangers do, it's either you develop that, or you & the lads Get Deaded. i think that's mostly what's being referred to when he's described as calm and in control. he's a great presence to have when you're going into fight or flight because in terms of personal danger he hasn't panicked once in his life (exaggeration) and gets actively mad when someone's worried about him (not an exaggeration) LMAO. an anger outburst will rarely win you a fight.

op alluded to it already, but, you can also certainly have different amounts of patience when it comes to different things. halt especially, i think, is more prone to answering violence with violence no matter if it's proportionate or not than, i dunno, will? older crowley? pauline? diplomats are a far more emotionally adept authority i feel like. LOL. either way, yeah, sure, he can be patient, even in situations where he might deck someone otherwise, but i think to sympathize and thus be patient with you he's got to understand/relate to you. and obviously he's more likely to do that if he actively gives a shit about you, which he doesn't for most, so. Violent Tendencies.

i'll be honest my kneejerk reaction to the post was to joke about the fact that There Be Men Like That Sometimes, but really you can think about it that way! some of these things - corporal punishment, reacting to disrespect with violence, etc etc - aren't necessarily "i'm mad and not thinking about what i'm doing", they're just his normal responses that aren't always expressed angrily at all. it's just what he - read, people - do. it's what isn't necessarily universally accepted, but it is accepted by him and arguably the people around him.

to add; how much do you reckon there can be violence without anger? i don't think some of these were him running out of patience necessarily, or getting angry with Homicidal Flavour. i think halt is absolutely capable of looking at a situation, assessing it with a fairly neutral line of thought, and deciding that violence should be the answer. it's not a reaction, it's a response, if that makes sense. of course that doesn't mean he doesn't get angry, i'm sure he does plenty, but i feel like little of it is Uncontrolled violence. it's what he sees as Deserved violence, and let's admit there's seldom any punishment in it for him. iirc even his arguably Biggest L - the whole banishment thing, which was also exactly what he wanted out of the situation mind - wasn't over the threat of violence which was very much there, it was over calling duncan a daft wee piss cunt or whatever and it's illegal to be mean to the king. tragic.

and of course you, reading, can see the violence as uncalled for, or you can see the times he uses it as him being cruel. if that's your interpretation, then there's really not much going against it. i mean, it's my interpretation too, lmao. i think halt is a largely a hard and unpleasant man. it's just that we're seeing him from the perspectives of the people that mostly like him, so we get to see all the moments when he's patient, or kind, or loyal too. which makes for an overall rather nice character, if you're willing to get your hands a little dirty.

and, you know, childrens' literature and all. our faves can do a little prisoner slavery i guess. why not.

I've been thinking about this for a long time, but it's so fucking funny to me how Halt is the guy that everyone is like "yeah he can stay calm, he's always in control and has great patience when it comes to certain things, he's has great control over his emotions" but at the same time that guy has has bet up more than one teenage apprentice in the span of two books, thrown two guys out a window in the span of one book, made Will sleep outside in the cold, not even in the ground but in a fucking tree for singing a song and having a bit of whimsy in his life, threw a guy off his horse by putting his bowstring around his neck, knocking him out (and then wanted to punch him again when he woke up) for being a bit of a dick, and at one point in The Emporer of Nihon-Ja, Will was sure Halt was gonna deck a dude or something along those lines for knocking his hood back off his face. And thats just the stuff actually in the books, there's probably way more we don't know about.

I'm trying to think of any more shit he's done now.

It's just funny how he can apparently be the most calm and in control man but also get super easily pissed off and ready to kill in an instant at the same time.

[fluffyenha]

Hard thought 𐙚 Nishimura

smutt! MDNI

pairing: Enhypen's Ni-ki x Reader (female)

warnings: p in v, public sex(?, insults, little dirty talk, mention of erection, unprotected sex (don't plz!), bad chemistry.

p.d: if you feel uncomfortable with this, just don't read, I do not write this to sexualize or dirty the image of the idol. :3

okay.. imagine. The teacher said there would be a class trip, so the students would all have to have a partner to go on the bus. You happily decided to go with your bestie and because the class number was odd, Niki planned to go alone.

Now.. here's a little problem. One day before the trip, your mate was sick. But what happens? The teacher announced that the students couldn't travel unaccompanied for security terms so he put you and Niki together. So, now here you are. Sitting next to him, your arms crossed and looking down. And the fact that you two have an awfully bad chemistry made it worse. It was maybe 3-5 minutes that you keep like this, until he sighs and speaks:

'Let's get something clear, okay? No speaking, no laughing and not looking at each other. Understood, idiot?'

You rub your temples and reply with a simple 'whatever'.

After a few minutes, the bus starts going on a REALLY bumpy way. Guess what, now you're on your enemy's lap cuz you jumped thanks to the damn street. Are you comfy? No. Do you complain? Neither.

But Niki's suffering. Length hard-rock throbbing against his (now feeling tight) jeans. Each bump, each bounce you do. Your core grinding against his tent, making you and him let some sighs and low moans.

'Shit, can't you stay still for a fucking while?'

He says while sliding his hands to your sides, trying to make you still but pressing you more against him. He feels he's even harder so, why not fix it? Slowly starts rubbing you forward and backwards on his lap, making you groan.

He whispers in your ear 'I need a favor' .

You don't reply and look around to see nobody's watching, and start bouncing more firmly on top of him, following the pace of the bus.

You start getting very wet so lift your skirt and lower your panties enough to make bare friction with his pants. He shifts your hips to unbuckle his belt and lower his own pants a bit.

Without warning, he presses his pre-cum covered tip to your slit and rub it, separating your walls slightly and making you whimper.

You squeeze your eyes shut and grab his wrists to steady, biting your lips while he slides a part of his dick in you. Your walls squeeze tightly around him and your wetness drips off your hole, falling on his bare skin. Slowly puts all his length, giving you a few seconds to get used to it and then starts bucking his hips up, fast and desperate movements. Breathing heavily, head thrown back and cheeks heated. He speaks in a seductive, low voice.

'take it all, like the slut you're. oh god, such a good girl squeezing me like that.'

Your walls clench tightly, his hard cock touching all the right places, making you roll your eyes behind your closed eyelids.

He buries his face on your neck, kissing and sucking it leaving small marks from behind while keeps moving his lap up and down.

You moan lowly his name and jump as you can, his tip against that spot that made you dig your nails on his wrist's skin. His hands slide to your chest to pinch and massage your nipples and soft skin under your shirt. Fastly you both start feeling a not too strange feeling on your lower abdomen, signaling that you're close.

After a few seconds, Niki cums inside of you, a few milky drops falling on your thigh while you come all over him too. Your releases mixed, but you can't be too messy.

he sits you down or your seat and he cleans himself discreetly, putting his pants and belt all in place. You quickly put your panties on, keeping all his cum inside of you.

Then, you both fall asleep. Your cheek on his shoulder, his cheek on top of your head.

Hope it was what you expected pookie! 💝

Ty for your request !! @sjy-lover

[fuck1ng-queen]

Under the stars

Nick Folio x Reader

Words: 1.3k

Warnings: none, just some fluuuuuuufy things today!

Author comments: hi, besties! today is the day to celebrate valentine's with our baby drum boy Folio 💕 thank you so much for all the love you're giving me these days with all the notes, i'm so happy for it! i hope you like it and i'll see you tomorrow! (i didn't had time to make a header for today's fic, on sunday i'll make one and put in here)

It was a clear, cold morning, with the rays of the winter sun lighting up the streets still covered in the night's dew. You woke up to the soft sound of a notification on your phone, a message that brought an instant smile to your face:

Drum Boyyy: “Good morning! Ready for the best Valentine's Day ever?”

Folio was the kind of person who made small moments seem big. You had met by chance, a meeting that began with shy glances in an instrument store and evolved into long conversations about everything from music to the meaning of life's little coincidences. Today was special, and he had insisted that you leave everything in his hands.

After replying with a heart emoji, you got up and started getting ready. He had only told you to wear something comfortable and be ready by 10am. Your curiosity grew each minute, but you trusted him and knew he loved to surprise.

At 10 a.m., Folio stood at your door, carrying a large backpack and a mysterious expression. He was wearing a flannel shirt that looked like it was made for hugging, and his smile was contagious.

“Happy Valentine's Day,” he said, extending his hand to you. “Are you ready?”

“Depends. Shall we climb a mountain or something?” you joked.

He laughed, the warm sound filling the cold air. “Nothing too extreme, I promise. But I need you to trust me.”

You drove on for about 30 minutes, until you reached a park you had never visited before. The place was a quiet haven, with tall trees and winding trails. Folio took a blanket out of his backpack and some bags full of food.

“A picnic?” you asked, watching as he began to organize everything precisely.

“Well, it's more than that,” he replied, his eyes shining with enthusiasm. “But let's start here.”

You sat on the blanket, and he revealed hot coffee in a small thermos, carefully wrapped sandwiches and a bowl of fresh fruit. You talked about recent memories, laughed at inside jokes and shared a bar of chocolate that he had bought just because it was your favorite.

“You really pay attention to everything, don't you?” you commented, smiling as you unwrapped the chocolate.

“Always,” he replied without hesitation. “Especially when it comes to you.”

Time seemed to slow down, and everything around you seemed wrapped in a bubble of tranquillity. After you had eaten, Folio asked you to close your eyes.

“Trust me, it'll be worth it,” he assured you with a mysterious tone.

“Nick, if I open my eyes and find a strange bug, you're in trouble,” you said with a laugh, but you obeyed.

With your eyes closed, you heard the sound of rustling paper and smelled the faint scent of flowers. When he finally told you to open your eyes, you saw a notebook in his hands and a wreath of flowers that he carefully placed on your head.

“I know you love to write,” he began, a little hesitantly, ”so I thought I'd create a space just for us. I want this notebook to be a place for us to put our moments together. We can start right now.”

It was such a simple gesture, but so meaningful. With a lump in your throat and a sincere smile, you accepted the notebook and wrote the first entry:

“Today, in the park, Nick gave me one of the most beautiful presents I've ever received. It wasn't just the notebook or the bouquet of flowers, but the feeling that he really understands me.”

Folio read what you had written and smiled, picking up the pen to add something. “My handwriting isn't as nice as yours, but here we go,” he said before writing:

“Making you smile is my favorite thing on earth. I hope we never stop writing this story together.”

You laughed when you saw his handwriting, slightly slanted and with some letters too big. “It's perfect,” you said. “Just like today.”

The day continued with more surprises. A short trail took you to a lookout point with an incredible view, where he took a guitar out of his backpack. You looked at him in surprise.

“Since when do you carry a guitar? In fact, how much stuff can you fit in there?”

“Ever since I found out that you love live music,” he replied, sitting down on a tree trunk. “This one's for you.”

He began to play a soft melody, and although he wasn't a professional guitarist, every note seemed to be charged with feeling. The song was one of your favorites, and you felt your eyes fill with tears as he sang softly.

“That was amazing,” you said when he had finished, clapping your hands jokingly. “I think you just got extra points.”

“Good to know,” he replied with a shy smile, putting the guitar away. “But it's not over yet.”

You took photos together, laughed about how none of them were “perfect,” and talked about your plans for the future. Folio mentioned places he wanted to visit with you, stories he wanted to create and even recipes he wanted to test, as long as you act like his “official guinea pig.”

As the sun began to set, painting the sky in orange and pink, Folio looked at you with a more serious expression.

“I planned all this because I wanted you to know how important you are to me,” he said, his voice full of sincerity. “But more than that, I want you to know that every moment with you makes every other day worth it.”

You felt your heart racing as he held your hand. “I know I’m not perfect, but I want to keep trying to be, for you.”

You squeezed his hand tightly, smiling. “Nick, you’re already more than enough. Thank you for today… for everything.”

The sun was already disappearing on the horizon when Folio stood up and reached out his hand for you one more time.

“C’mon, there’s one more thing I want to show you,” he said with a smile.

Curious, you followed him to a small clearing where there was a makeshift campfire. He skillfully lit the flames, and you sat around the fire.

"Remember that night we talked about our favorite things?" Folio asked, his face lit up by the flames.

"Of course, it was one of our first conversations," you replied wistfully.

“So, I bought marshmallows,” he said, pulling a bag out of his backpack. “I thought it would be a good way to end the day.”

You spent what felt like hours roasting marshmallows, sharing stories, and laughing together. Every minute was filled with a genuine connection, a reminder of how much you cared for each other.

As the stars began to shine in the sky, Folio approached and put his arm around you. “I wanted this day to be unforgettable, and I hope it was.

You leaned your head on his shoulder, feeling the warmth of the fire and the comfort of his presence. “It was more than unforgettable. It was perfect, Nick.”

He turned his face gently, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that made your heart soar. “Can I do one last thing to make the day truly perfect?” he asked, his voice low and soft.

You smiled, feeling the heat rise to your face. “What would that be?”

Folio didn't answer with words. Instead, he leaned in slowly, his lips meeting yours in a tender, meaningful kiss. The world around them seemed to disappear, leaving only the warmth of the fire and the rapid beating of your hearts.

When you finally parted, he whispered: “Now, yes, perfect.”

You smiled, your eyes shining with emotion. “I agree. Perfect.”

And in that instant, under the starry sky and with the soft sound of the fire crackling, you knew that Valentine's Day would forever be a precious memory. Not just for the surprises or gestures, but for the sincere love you shared.

.

Masterlist | Valentine's One Shots

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[jiminahsarangae]

so I wrote an ao3 version of bohemian rhapsody. thought this would be right up tumblr's alley. read away!

Is this the real life? Is this just ao3?

Caught in this damn site, my escape from reality

Forget your dreams, look up to the screen and read

I'm just a fan boy, I don't like authority

Because I like to hit, like to post

even when wi-fi is slow

Any way the canon goes doesn't really matter to me, to me

Mama, just shipped a man

with another man in his bed, pressed my keys, now he's getting laid

Mama, the fic had just begun

But now I've gone and thrown it all away

Mama, ooh, didn't mean to start a new one

If I can't update by this time tomorrow

Carry on, carry on there are more in your 'mark for later'

Too late, I saw that tag

Sends shivers down my spine, now I'm crying all the time

Goodbye, everybody, it's maintenance day

Gotta leave you all behind and re-read away 

Mama, ooh (any way the canon goes)

I don't wanna cry

I sometimes wish I'd never learn to read at all

I see a little rare-pair of a ship

Scaramouche, Scaramouche, will you do the Fandango?

MCD and underage kink, very, very frightening to me

(Galileo) Galileo, (Galileo) Galileo, Galileo Figaro, magnifico

But I'm just a fan boy, I like things for free

He's just a fan boy from an emotionally distant family

Spare him his 3AM bedtime stories

I'd like to give this another kudos

Bismillah

No, we will not let you kudos (let him kudos)

Bismillah

We will not let you kudos (let him kudos)

Bismillah

We will not let you kudos (let me kudos)

Will not let you kudos (let me kudos)

Will not let you kudos (never, never, never, never let me kudos)

No, no, no, no, no, no, no

Oh, mamma mia, mamma mia

Mamma mia, let me kudos

Beelzebub has a [DISCONTINUED] put aside for me, for me, for me

Oh, baby, can't do this to me, baby

Just gotta get out, just gotta get right outta here

Ooh

Ooh, yeah, ooh, yeah

Nothing else does it, anyone can see

Nothing else does it

Nothing else does it for me

Even when wi-fi is slow...