#I’m not that nepotistic | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

k-hotchoisan · 1 year ago

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hii it’s me again with another request (sorry)

Could you write smtg based off the song agora hills by doja cat? whatever member u prefer is fine 💕💕

anywayssss i love you smmm and u are an amazing person!! 💕💕��🧎‍♀️

omg that is such a cute song (if you squint hard enough past the public sex HAHAHAH)

Please never apologise for coming back for a request, you know I’ll always welcome you with open arms 🥰

Always thank you for being so sweet vic (if it’s okay to call you that~) and for giving me inspiration + pushing me write out of my boundaries. I genuinely appreciate it.

AND I LOVE YOU TOO 🗣️🩷😭

Where you and Seonghwa have a fight before his Grand Prix finals, but he still wins, and loses his fucking mind when he sees you still cheering for him despite that.

Genre/Warnings: racer au, smut, semi public sex, you fuck Seonghwa in his racer gear, IF YOU SQUINT HARD ENOUGH THERES LIKE ANGST (it isn’t heavy don’t worry), creampies, mild dacryphilla, unprotected sex, sweaty sex

You storm past your partner into the hotel room, trying to let the anger dissipate. Seonghwa is trying to get to you, explaining what you saw. You know that it couldn’t be helped, but feel the thorns prickling your heart when you couldn’t even approach him when you caught one of his overly zealous and nepotistic fans with her hands over him during the after party. Nothing much could done because;

a. He couldn’t do anything about it because the relationship between the both of you had to be kept a secret, his management did not like the thought of entertaining Seonghwa in a relationship when his career is at his peak;

b. The Grand Prix finale was tomorrow. A lot of stakes were in place, and Seonghwa knew better than to fuck it up, especially when he’s worked so hard to get where he is now. He’s so close.

He’s also so fucking close to just wanting to let the world know how possessive he is over you.

“You know it’s not like that right?” and he goes on and on. You know that it’s part of his job—to network, get more sponsors, even if it meant letting other women get a little too close to him. You understand, you do, but oh god, it gets so fucking exhausting. You just wanted time for yourself to clear your head and process the whole thing, and potentially stabbing that nepo baby at least sixty times in your head.

Your arms are crossed. Arguing with him is the last thing you want to do right now, especially when the both of you barely escaped getting caught sneaking into his hotel room. All that for a fight to erupt between the both of you after a long and tense day on the track. You glare at him with a pout.

“I’m going home.”

Seonghwa whips his head so fucking fast, his eyes piercing right into you. He looks absolutely dumbfounded.

“Are you serious?”

You nod. “I’m sorry that I overreacted, but now, I’m not risking us getting caught when tomorrow’s the finals.”

Seonghwa wants to fucking pounce and cage you in. Before he even attempts to deflect your words, you cut him off-

“-and especially when you’re not the one dating someone who needs to keep a relationship a secret.” You sigh. “Please get some rest, Hwa.”

You pull the hotel door open, and leave promptly. Seonghwa stands there, his brows furrowed as frustration bleeds into him. He wants to so badly chase after you, but he knows you wouldn’t let him, not when there could be a chance to risk getting caught by anyone from his team.

As the cab pulls away further from the hotel, your phone is spammed by Seonghwa, and he’s explaining himself. You purse your lips, reading over his texts, but you only decide to reply a curt reiteration of what you told him earlier at his hotel room, and a “love you”, before unlocking your door to finally wash up.

A ping of guilt courses through you—you know you shouldn’t misunderstand or be jealous, but if anything, it was but how it made you feel, and it wasn’t pretty. You didn’t mean to show a perturbed expression when his eyes glanced at you after he barely managed to shake his little fan girl off him, but it was just automatic. And if anything, Seonghwa is just as possessive as you are, if not worse, especially when he sent death glares to your direction when another male had approached you, and periodically touched you up on your arms, which kind of caused the argument to even start in the first place.

Your eyes flutter close, exhausted, as sleep drags you in deeper, the last thing in your mind being Seonghwa.

The morning sun leaks through the windows of Seonghwa’s room. He’s already up, albeit half awake, getting ready for another whole day of racing. His mind was set on going all out for the finals, but something still remains at the back of his mind, and he doesn’t want to push it away. He thinks to himself, he wants to do it for you.

You only send Seonghwa a short text of encouragement, and he doesn’t reply. Then again, he is wrapped up with interviews over interviews, training and the finale would only start when dusk sets. You don a body con dress, paired with one of Seonghwa’s racer jackets you stole, might as well surprise him a little bit.

On the cab to the event, Seonghwa’s gorgeous face is plastered all over the Grand Prix news, as one of the rising stars. He looks absolutely stunning, no doubt, and it gets your heart racing too because you cannot believe he’s yours.

You take a seat amongst the noisy crowd around you. The atmosphere was getting really riled up, especially when the racers all appear on the big screen as they walk back stage to their cars. Your eyes are glued to the screen as Seonghwa appears in his racing gear, and he winks at the camera, a slew of fangirl screams burst around you, and you cover your mouth to suppress a giggle. All the hard feelings the night before faded off, and you heart felt full yet anxious for Seonghwa.

It takes awhile for the warm up and safety check to be cleared, but before you knew it, the checkered flags are raised and lights turned green, cheers roar across the tracks as the loud screeches of the cars overpower them.

Throughout the laps, Seonghwa falls in between 3rd and 4th place, you bite your lip, praying that he’s able to catch up. As the laps close in to its final rounds, Seonghwa slowly climbs up the position to first, and he maintains, amazingly. The night continues to burn with anticipation as the final lap commences, with Seonghwa neck to neck with another racer, switching between first and second.

The final corner becomes the make or break—as Seonghwa drifts, effectively overtaking just slightly before fully taking the spot for first.

And he speeds into the finishing line, winning championship.

You jump from your seat, your fingers clasped from the tension as the announcer is proclaiming Seonghwa’s win, and the screen flashes his winning race in slow motion. Your heart is pounding in your ears as the screams are blocked out. You are so proud that nothing leaves your lips as you fight the tears from falling as you clap. The screen flickers to the car cam, and you see Seonghwa pumping his fist in victory as he rides through another victory lap.

The barricade has fans screaming Seonghwa’s name as he leaves the car and pulls his helmet off. He looks so fucking amazing even when he’s sweaty, and you can’t help but feel your heart skip a beat. You decide not to squeeze with the fans near the barricade, opting to stand further away.

Well, now where does this relationship go? He’ll probably be even further from you now.

A huge group of reporters swarm him, and he looks overwhelmed, that is until his eyes scan the crowd and lands on you, just when you’re ready to turn to leave.

Seonghwa’s heart skips a beat, his eyes are only tunnelling you as he pushes past the crowd, jumping past the barricade to where you are. You have a small smile on your face because you know he deserves all of this.

A tight grip on your hand halts you in your tracks, shocking you, as you turn around with wide and confused eyes. He pulls his goggles off. Before you could even process it, Seonghwa has his jacket that you’re wearing in his fist as his hands travel up cup your jaw—and he pulls you in for a deep kiss.

Your eyes shut as the kiss scatters fireworks beneath your eyelids, with Seonghwa’s lips right pressing against yours. Your mind is fuzzy, as your ears blocks out the loud screams of his fans. He pulls back after what feels like an eternity, before bowing politely at the group of fans and reporters in front of him as he leads you away.

From the circuit track to his hotel room, he never once let go of your hand, probably only gripping it tighter the closer he got to his room. He doesn’t say a damn thing either, probably because he still has the adrenaline pumping in his veins. Nonetheless, you still can’t tell what he’s thinking, and you’re wondering if he’s still upset.

At least not until the moment the door closes behind you.

Because he turns his heels right at you as devours your lips, not letting go at all, even as peels off his jacket, then yours.

He finally pulls back, giving you a breather. His eyes look absolutely wild as he tugs his jacket off you, exposing the way your dress hugs your curves, and his breathing becomes heavier.

“Fuckin hell. You don’t know how much it drives me insane when you’re wearing my jacket over something fuckin slutty like this. Fuck,” he groans, kicking his shoes off. You stare at him breathlessly as you remove your shoes as well, but your gaze never leaving how Seonghwa looks so fucking good with a compression shirt on—the way it hugs his biceps, the way it pulls taut against his chest and abdomen, the gorgeous bounce of his fucking tits every time he shifts his arms. He doesn’t remove his top before pulling you right back into his arms, his hands snaking up to grab your braless tits, which makes him groan again.

“Fuck, you’re not even wearing a bra. Are you fucking kidding me?” His erection presses hard against your thigh, and you’re working through your brain to find and answer amidst being trapped by pleasure. “And where did you think you were running to, looking like that?”

“N-nowhere! I thought you’d be caught up with the report-“ he cuts you off with another hungry kiss. God, he’s so desperate that you can’t help feel the heat pool between your legs. It doesn’t help that he had pulled your dress down past your chest, and his hands are all over your tits, sending sparks down your your spine, right to your pussy. Seonghwa pulls away once more, licking the string of spit that connected the both of you.

Seonghwa hums. “Mmm. Shouldn’t have asked. I’d still fuck you dumb anyway.” Your grip on his arm tightens. His fingers snake under your dress, tugging on your panties as he pulls the pair down, and pockets the pair of panties. The wet patch of slick doesn’t go unnoticed by him. His gaze locks onto yours as he makes sure you watch him cover his fingers with spit before his fingers head south. His fingers meet your slick that covered your cunt and scoffs.

“You’re already so fucking wet already”. He doesn’t give you a chance to answer as his fingers begin rubbing your clit. You lean forward and sigh as you use his shoulder to lean your head on. He lets you for a moment, adoring the way you’re beginning to squirm underneath him. Then he’s grabbing your waist and then dumping you right on the couch, pushing your legs open for him. Your cunt glistens with slick right for him, and Seonghwa is more than ready to dive in, giving a lick before fully immersing his tongue right into your sex, flicking his tongue against your clit, his hands squeezing your thighs. Your fingers are tangled in his hair and your head is thrown back as you tug his slicked back hair. If you weren’t seeing stars, you’d be seeing the fucking heavens.

Seonghwa hits a pace where you’re beginning to see white spots beneath your eyelids and the knot tugs hard in your stomach. Your thighs contract immediately, but Seonghwa keeps them apart, because he knows that’s the sweet spot. He knows it makes you tingle and it gets him so fucking excited. His tongue works even quicker on your clit and your orgasm builds so fucking quick and your whines climb up in octave, music to Seonghwa’s ears.

“There, there. Oh fuck. I’m cumming. Oh my fucking god”, leaving your lips like a mantra, alongside more whines of his name as your orgasm tingles through your body in waves. His tongue presses against your clit and he sucks on your clit, causing you to jolt, tears already streaking from the overstimulation. Seonghwa’s moaning in your wet cunt, making sure he devours every part of your orgasm as his ego inflates. A broken cry leaves your lips as you release his locks, your hands slumping against the couch. Seonghwa presses a wet kiss against your cunt with a smile. He wipes his lips with the back of his hand as he towers over you, his erection staining his pants already. Oh god, you love the way your arousal is all over his plump lips nonetheless. He was made for eating you out. He leans in for another ravenous kiss—and he swears he can never get enough of it. Before you realise it, your dress is pulled back up past your tits.

His fingers gently intertwine with yours as he pulls you up, and leads you to-

“The balcony?” You question, your heart hammering in your chest. Seonghwa cracks a smile as he leans in.

“Yeah. I wanna show the world my girl. I’ll fuck you so good that I’ll make sure the world knows.”

“But-“

“It’ll be fine. I’m serious. We’re so high up and we’re clothed, well kind of ”, he comforts. You bite your lip, because fuck, it was definitely exhilarating to be fucked on the balcony. You wanted the world to know that he’s yours too and the thought of it only heats you up even more.

He leads you the beach chair at the side, where he makes you sit and hang your legs on either side of the arm rests, and he’s about to remove his compression top but your hands stop his before you realise it. He looks at you, concern flashes over his face for brief second.

“Fuck me with your racer gear on.”, you blurt out, curling your fingers against the taut fabric. Seonghwa’s expression immediately switches over to one of a smirk. “What have you been fantasising about, darling?” He pokes, looming over you with a cocky smile.

You can’t escape, the only thing that does is a small whimper. Seonghwa doesn’t push for an answer, because he’s busy yanking his pants down past his thighs, and his cock springs out, hitting his lower abdomen. He sighs as he gives his fat cock a couple of pumps while looking at you with your legs spread wide open for him, your pussy just salivating at the thought of him pounding into you into the next week.

He lines himself to your entrance and doesn’t warn you before he enters, and a squeal leaves your lips, then a soft cry as he pushes more inches into you—every inch going thicker and thicker as he goes down to the base, until he’s snug in your cunt.

“That’s my good girl. Warm and wet, just how I like it”, he whispers into your ears, as he strokes your thighs gently. More sobs leave you, your fingers pressing onto Seonghwa’s arms.

Just when you thought you couldn’t fit any more of Seonghwa, the sudden thought of him right now, fucking you in his uniform somehow swallowed more of his cock, earning you the most gorgeous moan from Seonghwa as his eyes roll back and his eyebrows scrunched.

“Baby-fuck!-just what are you thinking about? Squeezing me like this? Oh god”, his knuckles are whitening from his grip on the arm rest. He pulls out before starting a pace to fuck you with, and soon enough it’s only the sounds of skin slapping, both of your moans and the feeling of Seonghwa’s cock just pounding right into the perfect angle of your cunt that exists in this damn universe. You wouldn’t ask for more.

Your brain was becoming pulp, only soft sobs every time Seonghwa’s balls deep into you. You could only focus on how his biceps tensed against the fabric as his tits fucking bounced every time his slams his cock into you—which you definitely see it too—the way his pants hang just at his lower thighs, and his cock is just disappearing into your pussy, drawing out squelching sounds that were borderline obscene. Drops of sweat splatter onto your dress as he leans in to rest his forehead onto yours.

“So good. So fucking good to be inside you like this”, he curses, trying to not the feeling of his orgasm overpower him. As you were gradually losing yourself to the pleasure, he suddenly pulls back completely, and instructs you to face the night scenery with your ass out. He crumpled your dress to your waist, and his cock enters you again, causing you to draw a sharp breath. He doesn’t let you adjust—he just starts fucking you raw like that, leaving your mouth agape and eyes blown out from the pleasure.

He’s able to reach even deeper part of your pussy now, and he makes sure you fucking cry for him. “H-Hwa!”, you try to speak in between sobs. “Oh god, oh god. I can’t. It’s so deep.” Your hands barely have the strength to hold onto the rails as he is railing you from behind.

“That’s my pussy. Milk me dry baby”, Seonghwa grunts, his fucking becoming more erratic, admiring the way your ass bounces off his cock so naturally. “I’m cumming all the way in baby. Be a good girl and take it, yeah?”

And a drawn out moan fills your ears as his cum floods your abused hole, and you cry out as your second orgasm hits you, clenching his cock even more. A loud slap reverberates into the night as his hand lands on your ass, causing you to flinch and squeal.

“That’s it, baby. Oh, you’re such a good girl”, he hums, holding your hips as far as his cock would let him drive into you, letting cum dribble down your inner thighs. He pulls out slowly, admiring the way your cunt convulses, small loads of his cum and yours leak out of you. You release your grip from the railings and fall right into his arms, as he plants a loving kiss on your temple before whispering,

“I promise you’re the only one for me, baby.”

#ateez #ateez scenarios #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #ateez smut #smut #ateez fic #kpop smut #kpop fics #ateez seonghwa #y/n x seonghwa #seonghwa smut #park seonghwa #seonghwa

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millie-multifics · 3 months ago

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In Another Life

Firefighter!Eddie Munson x Potential Reader

Eddie builds a better life far away from all the misfortune of Hawkins.

Warnings: Mentions of injuries, death and conspiracies.

Word Count: ~1k

Masterlist

Just a little thought I had. I’m open to continuing it if there is interest.

x x x

Much of Hawkins remained blissfully unaware of Vecna’s final emergence and his beasts in the Upside Down, though a certain group of teenagers and their parents were forced to face the tattered remains left in the wake.

Though Eddie had not faced the Upside Down nearly as many times as the people he now considered his closest friends and valued acquaintances, his already challenged life had taken a nose dive right into interdemensial dirt and ash.

The government had edited the narrative from the first precieved notion of Eddie being responsible for the heinous murder of Chrissy Cunningham and others to point the blame to the deceased Jason Carver, even putting in the detail of Max and Eddie being attempted victims to explain away their injuries.

Though Eddie’s life had been less than luxurious before, most of citizens of Hawkins had continued to shun him, not believing the goverment spun web of lies.

Eddie had not dare left the trailer for over a month when Uncle Wayne had sat him down, encouring his beloved nephew to escape the cruel borders of the small town. Wayne had assured Eddie that leaving did not mean he was running from his problems, just looking for peace of mind and the opportunity to shop for groceries without mothers dragging their children out of the store in horror at the sight of him.

Steve had given into his nepotistic expectations, accepting a job at his fathers dealership as a car salesman. His first action of business was buying Eddies beatup van for a lot more than it was worth. Steve was quite nearly fired that same evening when his father discovered the new eyesore on the lot that no one would ever spend a penny on, nevermind $5,000.

The money had gotten Eddie across state lines to Illinois, specifically Chicago where he found himself an older apartment and anonymity. Here his misfortunes had not earned a five page feature in the newspaper, his story and face hadn’t even warranted the front page. He had found a job as a Bartender at an establishment called “Stones Throw” in the middle of the city. Reggie, the owner had interviewed Eddie on the spot. He only had two questions- did Eddie have any bartending experience? And if the obvious metal head could handle listening to different genres of music for hours on end without blowing a gasket? Eddie had debated lying about his lack of serving experience but ultimately was truthful and he could only promise that he would try his very best not to pop his top at patrons jukebox choices. He wasn’t exactly sure why but Reggie hired him on the spot.

Stones Throw is where he met the people who would help change his life for the better. Lacey, the truest example he had ever seen of the term tiny but mighty, she had a glare that had any rowdy patron fleeing before the bouncer even had a chance to toss them out. She had convinced Eddie to seek out a program to finally complete his GED, and she helped him study every night behind the bar. Her elder brother, Joey, frequented the establishment with his fellow Firefighters and their shared love for D&D made them fast friends. It took two years but the O’Ryan siblings had convinced Eddie that he should explore the possibility of becoming a Firefighter as he had the passion and potential to thrive in the field. Joey started inviting Eddie along to the gym, knowing the average build of the metalhead would not equate during training. Eddie slowly began filling out his black uniform t-shirt in a way that drew in plenty of female attention, something he avoided since intimate company meant revealing the deep scars that spanned across his torso from the Demobats sinking their sharp talons into his soft flesh.

The required medical examination had nearly jeopardized Eddie’s eligibility to join the program. The physician concerned with the scars that sunk deep into his tissue. He had fought hard against the comprehension, volunteering to do test after test until the doctor could no longer question his capabilities. Eddie fought the burning in his lungs and the ache in his joints again and again until his body grew used to the physical work. Wayne sat proudly in the first row on the day Eddie graduated from the academy, his other friends from Hawkins occupying a small section in the middle. The Stones Throw was packed full that evening, a party to celebrate Eddie’s success took over the bar. It was the first time in years that all the people who Eddie loved were gathered in one place. A feeling much deeper than content settled in his chest as he watched new and old seemlessly merge into one. Henderson, Wheeler, Byers and Sinclair were talking over each other to give Joey the fill on their D&D characters as he would be joining them for their reunion session the next day. Steve leaned on the bar, completely smitten with everything that was Lacey O’Ryan. Wayne and Reggie shared a table, no doubt sharing stories of Eddie’s shit disturbing tendencies. Robin argued with Max about which song would be played on the Jukebox next, Eddie was tempted to hide the cup of quarters placed next to the machine so he didn’t have to hear another Madonna song.

“For one night and one night only, please welcome to this very humble stage… Corroded Coffin!”

In that moment Eddie thought he had finally made it in life. He was starting a good career, his life was full to the brim with people who loved him and he was finally back on stage for the first time since discovering the Upside Down.

The guitar strings rumbled under his fingertips, a bead of sweat rolled down the nape of his neck as his wild curls swung around his shoulders then his dark eyes met yours across the room and he knew there was just one thing missing from his life.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #stranger things 4 #stranger things #joesph quinn #stranger things masterlist #firefighter Eddie Munson

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catindabag · 1 year ago

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TBOSAS on Crack! ✨essential information✨

⭐️❄️⭐️

FIRST off, in honor of the book and its movie release, TBOSAS on Crack is solely (just) created as a JOKE!Alternative Universe that focuses more on the 24 OG Mentors of the 10th Hunger Games. This includes the funny/romantic misunderstandings of Coriolanus Snow and Sejanus Plinth that gave everyone the impression that they were actually “secretly” dating, and are indeed boyfriends (until they honestly were).

In addition, this Crack!AU will tell you the compelling story of how a bunch of delinquents “accidentally” stopped the Hunger Games from continuing, just because of a certain Mentor’s ✨nepotism✨.

MORE or less, most of the characters in the book are the same when it comes to their personalities and backstories. Well, except for our Mentors. They’re a bunch of crackhead Capitol kids with too much fun and stress on their hands. They even almost made Dean Highbottom and Dr. Gaul quit their respective jobs.

ALSO, these young walking disasters are not “all there” in the head. Heck! Half of them went crazy years ago because of the infamous 2 year Capitol Siege by the rebels that almost starved them all to death. Just ask Coryo Snow and Persephone. But as for the other half, let’s just say that all they want to do is eat, drink, party, and ✨graduate✨.

Here is a quick character info: [Read Me]

Here are their visuals: [Read Me]

Here’s the Hunger Games Origin: [Read Me]

Here’s their playlist: [Read Me]

Here are their ✨Code Names✨: [Read Me]

And here’s Dean Highbottom’s take: [Read Me]

Here’s that Epic The Musical Post: [Read Me]

Here’s the fate of District 13: [Read Me]

PS: For sanity’s sake, no Mentor or Tribute will be dying in this Crack!AU. No one gets killed! Bombs will still explode inside the Capitol Arena, but our crazy kids will wear the thickest plot armor EVER, just because I’m their only sponsor!🤣

Read the Cracks here: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 37, 38, 39, 40, 41, 42, 43, 44, 45, 46, 47, 48, 49, 50, 51, 52, 53, 54, 55, 56, 57, 58, 59, 60, 61, 62, 63, 64, 65, 66, 67, 68, 69, 70, 71, 72, 73, 74, 75, 76, 77, 78,

The cracks are not in chronological order, but someday they will. . .

MOREOVER, this Crack!AU includes the following:

The accidental birth of ✨Snowjanus✨!😘

Also known as Corjanus, SnowPlinth, CabbageBread, The Grandma’am golden ticket to a rich life, and Strabo’s not so secret plan to rule all of Panem through his only son’s marriage to Crassus Snow’s boy.

Coryo Snow malfunctioning for the hundredth time because of how forward and shamelessly romantic Sejanus Plinth is.

“Fine! I’ll marry into money! I’m sick of eating cabbages anyway!”

“Stop throwing bread to the dead, Sejanus Plinth! Throw it to the living!”

The Mentors (intentionally) delaying the Hunger Games from officially starting because of their nonstop shenanigans with their Tributes (much to Dr. Gaul and her Gamemaker’s frustration).🤣

The Tributes slowly accepting (and sometimes rejecting) the fact that their Mentors are just a bunch of “dramatic nepotistic crazy clowns” who refuse to learn basic social cues.

The 10th Hunger Games being officially postponed (over and over again) because of Felix Ravinstill’s ✨nepotism✨ working overtime.😌💅

In truth, the Gamemakers were “forced” to stop the countdown (over and over again) because half of the Mentors illegally barged into the control room without Dr. Gaul’s permission. Afterwards, Felix just used the excuse of “My granduncle is the President of Panem, I can do whatever I want” card to postpone the games.

Lucy Gray ignoring the personal space of her fellow annoyed Tributes (and everyone she meets), just because she’s “Covey” and quirky.

The poor underpaid Capitol Peacekeepers wanting a salary increase, vacation, and promotion because they have been dealing with the Mentors’ extra curricular criminal activities for far too long.

All the Mentors (excluding Livia and Arachne) being genuine ✨Besties✨ to each other since their grade school days.

Livia Cardew only calls her classmates either witches or idiots.

Festus Creed being the real ✨Dumpster Diving Capitol Rat King✨ and the best free cheesecake coupon hoarder of the century.

“Dumpster Diving for free food coupons is a common school activity, officer!”

The Academy? More like ✨The Academy of Arts✨💅.

Everyone wanting to secretly major in ✨Theatre & Drama✨.

Crazy but rich AF Sejanus Plinth and his unhealthy obsession of being Coryo Snow’s beloved boyfriend, fiancé, sugar daddy, baby daddy, and future husband.

Ma Plinth slowly becoming the food benefactor of the Mentors. #feedmeMa

Coriolanus Snow and Lucy Gray being the best of friends who love to sh*t talk about their boyfriends every time they meet.

Seriously, Coryo and Lucy Gray are just friends here. Everyone knows that crazy Sejanus Plinth will strangle anyone who tries to flirt with his gorgeous Snow Bae sugar baby fiancé.

Lucy Gray genuinely liking the Mentors for their chaotic ✨dramatic✨ personalities.

Sejanus Plinth shamelessly calling his darling Coryo “Babe, My love, Snow Angel, Snow Bae, Snowy, Snow Baby, Sweetheart” in front of everyone and their dogs.

The Mentors randomly coming up to Lucy Gray and asking her to sing banned songs from the early 2000s.

Strabo Plinth’s unhealthy obsession with the Snow family. Apparently, he and the ever gorgeous Crassus Snow were very close “friends” and the best “roommates” back in their military days. They were busy “stargazing” and playing with their rifles all night if you know what I mean.😏

The Grandma’am and Strabo Plinth being the true evil geniuses of the Capitol.😈

Strabo Plinth insisting Coryo to marry into his family and change their surnames to ✨The Great Plinth-Snow Dynasty✨, just because it sounds more powerful.

Coryo Snow accidentally convincing his beloved sugar daddy boyfriend (Crazy Sejanus Plinth) to become the future ✨President of Panem✨ (after Felix).

Tigris and The Grandma’am selling Coryo’s hand in marriage to the Plinth family. They genuinely believe that old man Strabo Plinth will lower the food prices if Sejanus marries Coryo for the sake of Panem.

Tigris Snow finally quitting her job (she got fired for being a weird cheese addict) and happy dancing for a whole week when she heard that her sweet little Coryo will marry into the Plinth family fortune.

Tigris, the Grandma’am, and Ma Plinth planning the ultimate ✨Snowjanus Royal Wedding of The Century✨.

The Grandma’am and evil Strabo Plinth scheming together to rule Panem and its people through ✨The Great SnowPlinth Union✨.

Ma Plinth wanting at least 5 beautiful grandchildren out of The Great SnowPlinth Union, while Strabo and the Grandma’am demanded 2 dozen (and more). #24&More

Lysistrata Vickers being the founder and President of the Capitol’s SnowPlinth/Snowjanus Official Fan Club.

Lucy Gray supporting and promising Coryo Snow that she and her Covey will sing the best banned love songs at his wedding.

Reaper Ash being labeled as the “weird one” by his fellow crazy Tributes.

Treech and Vipsania Sickle being the best gym bros for some unknown reason.

Marcus trying (and failing) to ignore the annoying existence of Sejanus Plinth.

Lysistrata Vickers having dibs as Coryo’s official ✨Maid of Honor✨. Apparently, poor cheese addict Tigris Snow was tragically outvoted by the very influential and powerful SnowPlinth/Snowjanus Fan Club members out of jealousy.🥲

Festus Creed and Tigris Snow fighting for the position of ✨Best Man✨ through an epic ✨Dance-off Battle✨💃🕺.

Apollo Ring being forced to be Coryo’s ring bearer because of his surname. Honestly, Gaius Breen and Androcles Anderson just peer pressured him for fun.

Livia Cardew planning to crash Coryo’s wedding for the expensive wine.

The Mentors and Tributes avoiding the “Arena Bomb Explosion Incident” because of Palmyra Monty’s dangerous existence.

Androcles Anderson being a proud professional kleptomaniac.

Lucky Flickerman wanting to quit his job. Apparently, the self proclaimed magic man was extremely unprepared to face and deal with the Mentors’ collective stupidity.😭

The Gamemakers forgetting to edit out Sejanus Plinth’s little arena stunt.

“Marcus was just sleeping, Sejanus! He’s still alive, you idiot Plinth! We freaking postponed the games!”

“For the last time! Don’t kiss Coriolanus Xanthos Snow on LIVE TV! There are freaking kids and dogs watching!”

Coryo and Sejanus shamelessly kissing, hugging, and being dramatic AF inside the Capitol Arena, while poor Marcus and the others are left sitting on the stands annoyed and confused AF.

Dean Casca Highbottom intentionally calling poor Coryo “Crassus Xanthos Snow” out of spite and out of regret (and because he’s still madly and deeply in love with the ever gorgeous Crassus Snow).

Drunk Highbottom living and swimming in denial since the infamous ✨#Crasca4Ever! University Breakup✨.😔

Coryo Snow successfully convincing a drunk Highbottom not to expel him by pretending to be Crassus Snow. He later regrets doing it.

Drunk!Casca not being able to correctly pronounce half all of his students’ names.

Festus Creed and Androcles Anderson receiving a lot of demerits and expulsion letters from the Dean. However, they still go to school and join their class discussions like nothing happened.

Casca Highbottom banning the Mentors from attending ✨The Academy’s Annual Students Teachers Meeting✨ (forever) because of the infamous Heavensbee Hall Flooding Incident.

Coryo Snow secretly trading his cabbages for banned music albums at the Capitol Black Market.

The banned song “Heaven Is A Place On Earth” accidentally playing on repeat inside the Capitol Arena because Felix Ravinstill forgot to detach his phone from Dr. Gaul’s master speaker.

“Snow On The Beach” stealing the top spot on the Capitol Billboard Hot 100 because of Coryo Snow and Lucy Gray’s final performance inside the Capitol Arena.

The Mentors trolling Lucky Flickerman and Lepidus Malmsey for the hundredth time.

Hilarius Heavensbee secretly collects movie records from the early 2000s. His favorite banned film is ✨Legally Blonde✨.

Io Jasper and Urban Canville being a bunch of shameless nerds who can’t properly communicate with each other.

Professor Sickle trying to convince Drunk!Casca Highbottom to give her a raise and promotion for tolerating the Mentors’ shenanigans and stupidity.

Crazy Palmyra Monty forever mentally and emotionally scarring her classmates (especially Florus Friend) with her homemade poisonous snacks.

Florus Friend fearing and avoiding Palmyra Monty’s accursed deadly bread rolls and expired sandwiches.

Felix Ravinstill being a genuine good friend and great Class President to everyone.

Dennis Fling asking poor sensitive Felix to beg for some illegal ✨Miracle Pills✨ from Lysistrata to cure Hy and Dill’s respiratory related illnesses.

Everyone knows that Persephone Price willingly ate that infamous “Maid Stew” that her father made for them to survive.

Festus Creed’s ✨PerseFest✨ agenda.

Dairy Heiress Domitia Whimsiwick fawning over Tanner’s skills and biceps.

Coral perfecting her somersault to impress the Capitol crowd and her idiot Mentor.

The Mentors pretending to be stupid whenever they attend Dr. Gaul’s class.

Dr. Gaul giving up on grooming poor Coryo Snow to become her successor because she realized that his brain doesn’t work properly whenever he’s with Sejanus.

Poor homeless Hilarius Heavensbee getting disowned and kicked out of the ✨Queen Bee Mansion✨ by his evil weirdo parents for being a loser nuisance towards his smarter and perfect younger brother.

Livia and Arachne convincing themselves that Casca Highbottom is actually Coryo Snow’s true sugar daddy.

Meanwhile, Florus Friend thinks Strabo Plinth is the real sugar daddy of poor Coryo Snow and homeless Hilarius Heavensbee.

Dr. Gaul openly wanting to strangle the Mentors for acting being stupid.

Urban Canville’s secret mission to strangle Lucky Flickerman and his annoying bird.

Felix Ravinstill being the favorite darling grandnephew son of President Gran Gran.

Festus winning the position of ✨Class Representative✨. Apparently, Creed only won because Sejanus “accidentally” locked Urban Canville inside a bathroom stall.

Persephone Price and Mizzen being the best pizza partners in crime. Somebody, these two idiots will rule all of Panem with their ruthless ✨Pizza Palace Empire✨.

Drunk!Coryo genuinely believes that Felix Ravinstill is the current President of Panem.

Drunk!Sejanus, Drunk!Coryo, Drunk!Festus, and Drunk!Lysistrata acting like shameless fools in front of their Tributes. The poor and underpaid Peacekeepers were not amused.

Festus Creed and Sejanus Plinth stripping on broad daylight because of the summer heat.

Reaper Ash praying for some normalcy and mental peace every day.

Jessup and Sheaf talking and singing with the Capitol’s “sacred” rabid raccoons and wild squirrels in order to stay sane.

Mizzen being a terrible little gremlin.

The Mentors trying to recreate The Hunger Games until ✨Panemvision✨ was born.

Livia’s own version of The Hungers Games is basically ✨Love Island�� on crack and steroids.

Because of the awful “Love Island” idea, the rest of the Mentors had to write a serious 20 page essay on why the Hunger Games should be recreated/revamped into a true reality TV show with a “no killing, no gore, no cannibalism” policy.

The Mentors trying to convince the School Board Members, the Government Officials, and crazy President Ravinstill to change the 10th Hunger Games into a non-deadly talent show to increase viewership and sponsors.

Moreover, Coryo strongly defended the proposal by having Lucy Gray successfully sing in front of a live audience (again) on TV. Billy Taupe was the only one who got offended (again).

Meanwhile, the rest of the Mentors also convinced their Tributes to show off their talents that same day. That was Reaper’s 2nd worst day of the week.😂

Dean Highbottom only supported the proposal because it reminded him of his wild karaoke clubbing days with his drop dead gorgeous lover. You know who it was.😏 #Crasca4Ever #crassusmylove #SnowBottom

Clemensia Dovecote also backs their weird essays by simply stating that killing children will only make the Districts hate the Capitol more. However, if they provide “real entertainment” without the violence, then the Districts might warm up to them.

In addition, Sejanus proposed that the winner of the contest will be made a ✨STAR of PANEM✨! 🤩

And as the ✨Star of Panem✨, he/she will be given monetary support and a lifetime supply of cabbages and lima beans by the Capitol.

Meanwhile, the losers will only get 10 boxes of pizza, 2 gallons of orange soda, one body bag of sandwiches (made by Ma Plinth) as a reward for “willingly” participating.

Juno Phipps then added a “rule” stating that no Tribute shall be punished (or killed) because the losers must live and remember their humiliation on television for the rest of their lives.😈

Coryo and Clemmie also proposed that each Tribute must have a Prep Team and Stylist to make them presentable for Lucky Flickerman’s Late Night Show with Jubilee.

Finally, Felix Ravinstill and Dennis Fling closed their arguments by stating: “That being forced to sing and perform ON STAGE and on LIVE TV, which could be replayed over and over again, even after death, especially for Tributes who couldn’t save their own pride and dignity for all of Panem to remember, is the worst punishment one could freely give to one’s enemy. They won’t even be allowed to forget how they had wronged you.”

After hearing the Mentors’ closing argument, Dr. Gaul was ready to end it all and commit bloody murder in front of everyone.😡🔪

But after some deliberation, President Ravinstill (and his puppies) approved the Mentors’ proposal and changed the Hungers Games into the ✨HGASC✨ (Hunger Games: Annual Singing Contest).

However, the Grandma’am and Strabo Plinth insisted that they should just officially call it ✨PANEMVISION✨.

Meanwhile, Dr. Gaul tried to persuade President Ravinstill (again) to reconsider the Mentors’ stupid proposals.

However, she was outvoted by both the School Board Committee and the Capitol’s highest ranking government officials, just because everyone (but her) wanted to see what “true entertainment” really looks like on screen.

Livia Cardew even defended everyone’s ideas nonstop because, according to her, there was a lack of spicy entertainment in the Capitol. Damn the rules! This is the Capitol! We want ✨Love Island✨ type of dramas! Where are the ✨Real Housewives of Corso✨?! F*ck the Hunger Games! Give us the 90 Day Fiancé from the Districts!

And that’s how the Mentors “accidentally” ended the Hunger Games and gave birth to the most popular and craziest reality TV show in the weird history of Panem.

As for every Quarter Quell, let’s just say, it’s gonna be a true ✨SHOW STOPPER✨!

The first ✨HGASC/PANEMVISION✨ Quarter Quell will have the Mentors reap kids from both Capitol and District. Afterwards, one District Tribute will be paired with one Capitol Tribute to perform a special duet act (whether they like it or not).

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intoloopin-archive · 10 months ago

Text

AN INTERLUDE: IN UNITY.

TWS: A rapist and drugs are very briefly mentioned. The boys are fighting. And I believe that's all. characters (starring): Na Seungsoo. Woo Gyujin. word count: 2,457 words. time stamp: January 21th, 2024 (the day Dylan released his mixtape). author's note: not exactly super beated because I am literally dying! But anyways! Transitionary piece to get this plot going! Productivety! Hell yeah! *passes out*

January 21th.

Seungsoo doesn’t miss LOOPiN’s old dorm because he can’t miss it.

So every time he gets close to airing a complain about their current house, he instead makes a point to remember that their former two story apartment came straight out of Jiahang’s pockets, rented with a fraction of one of his many, many trust funds set by his millionaire parents for when he grew up and decided to go to college to study rare plants, or be a nepotistic model, or move to Monaco and do nothing forever. It becomes very easy to cultivate a vendetta against it that way.

But right now what Seungsoo can’t help but miss is having a bigger balcony, one that won’t cramp him when he tries to have a peaceful and quiet meltdown in his own goddamn home. There's a breeze hitting him right on the face while he’s staring at the goddamn sunset but he still feels suffocated. And he’s only sharing space with Taesong’s outside plants, their leaves a depressing shade of sick green, and Haegon’s brand new bike, which he only bought because he wasn't allowed to get a haircut after leaving Sunyoung for the nth time.

From behind him, Seungsoo hears the sound of the balcony’s door being quietly pushed open, and of a series of steps growing closer. The living room’s light has been turned on and it’s painting his body in yellow light.

“Haruki, look–” Seungsoo breathes, turning on his heels quickly, ready to raise his arms high in rendition.

Who he finds behind him is someone else, tough, someone worse – or maybe not. Haruki hates him now, romanticizes the living Hell out of Dylan now, so he would have certainly been way worse to look in the eyes now than Gyujin.

Gyujin who, with his brand new eyebrow piercing and wet hair from his one hour long shower, greets him with a smile then says, as if he’s queued to deliver a joke, “You wish.”

“Great,” Seungsoo mutters to himself, turning his back to him, getting back at supporting his elbows on the wall. For a second, he marvels at how nasty the fall would be if he jumped to the backyard. “Get out, Gyujin, seriously. I’m not in the mood.”

“Boo-hoo. I didn’t ask.”

With that, he comes close. He sits on the thick wall in the little space the plants give him, both hands holding on the concrete while he bends dangerously backwards, dangling his feet.

And Gyujin just stays there, barely moving and not talking, only whistling like a goddamn cartoon. In retaliation, Seungsoo frowns harder at the horizon and begins to fidget on his sleeping clothes, fingers anxious to hold onto something.

He never picked up on smoking and he kind of regrets it now, can’t remember the reason why. Maybe because he likes to smell like cologne too much, or because he hates the thought of being unable to kiss someone without it tasting bitter.

It takes a mere minute or so for him to break, because that’s what Seungsoo does best: he can’t hold back an impulse, can’t swallow a single word down. He needs a collar, he’s realized recently, a muzzle, and no one ever gets him one – no one ever gets him.

“That was just so damn childish,” He mutters through his teeth. “Releasing all the songs like that.”

“Oh?” Gyujin tilts his squared chin down. He’s almost looming over Seungsoo, with the way he’s set – taking him from up above, an angle Seungoo’s had a problem being perceived from ever since he was the youngest of his mother’s kids. “And unfollowing Chihoon on Instagram wasn't childish?”

“I don’t like when any of our private business gets exposed, no matter how vague. He knows that.”

“Didn’t you just make it more public now with your little show? Or do you really think no one will connect the two, that the timing isn’t obvious, that you aren’t raising tension?”

Seungsoo suppresses a little scream by pressing his knuckles hard against his lips.

“You didn’t think that far, did you? Tsk, you just never do,” Gyujin lets out a laugh. “So what is it, Seungsoo, really? Why did you do that? What’s wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with me?!” Seungsoo breathes, straightening up quickly, viciously – he almost hits Gyujin on the forehead with his head by doing so. “What is wrong with you?! Do you really think it’s okay for him to make something like that and release it without checking with us first?! When it’s mostly about the team?! We’re not illiterate! We can understand all his goddamn English!”

“Hm. Little League’s mean, I never said it wasn’t,” Gyujin agrees, but his relaxed posture lets it clear to Seungsoo that he does so only partially, half heartedly, even – always so comfortable with the possibility of a fall, he thinks, eyeing his horrible posture. “It’s a mock song made to piss Haegon off, and it got the job done. He’s justified in everything he chose to do about it. I just don’t get why you’re so offended. Is it because Chihoon didn’t write about you?”

“Are you insane? It’s not about getting a song or not, or Dylan doing things on his own or not, I just don’t–” Seungsoo shakes his head, searching for the right words, any other words but–

“You don’t like remembering we’re not friends,” Gyujin completes – spot on like fucking always. “That he doesn’t feel like he owes us secrecy anymore.”

And to think there would be a time, not even so long ago, where Seungsoo would immediately jump to refute him, banging on his chest and saying with real pride, “We’re all friends! We’re all close!”

But saying it now would just make it sound like a blatant lie; a joke with an awful punchline. So he bites his tongue and goes back to being quiet.

“Na Seungsoo, I need you to listen to what I’ll say to you,” Gyujin tells him, his voice set on a tone deeper than his usual, making the full name ring off his mouth like an intimation. Ungrundly, Seungsoo listens. “You need to start processing the things you do before you do them.”

Seungsoo scoffs, forced and loud, and looks away from his face quickly – runs from the ice underneath his setting jaw.

“We have problems, alright? All great groups do,” Gyujin keeps up, bumping their shoulders together once, then not again; Seungsoo recoils more against the wall and lightly grates his arm all to escape his follow up attempt by a matter of millimeters. “Sometimes things get sour and they spill over, and that’s just how it is. You get around, you know I’m right. No one has it easy. Idolmaker is in the middle of a PR nightmare with all the Hosung freakout, we’ve been seeing it first hand, and you won’t find Gayoung or Jeonghun getting petty in public because it isn’t smart.”

“So what can I actually do, Gyujin, about our situation?” Seungsoo asks him. A spot on his jaw is hurting from how hard he’s clenching it.

Gyujin gives him that awful, awful look of his that always tells him ‘You’re an idiot’. “Seungsoo, please. Dylan’s vent album is not a situation–”

“C’mon, Gyujin, I know it’s not!” Seungsoo says, too close to yelling. “And I know your little speech isn’t really about the goddamn unfollow! It’s you trying to get inside my head and control how I’ll act now that I know the group’s ending!”

The words make Gyujin pause. He almost fully freezes. It’s all the confirmation Seungsoo needs, the mute answer to the question that’s been eating him alive since Christmas.

“You’ve heard the fucking rumors, you– Gyujin, you know! I know you know! The March shareholder’s meeting has been canceled, Minwoo hasn’t sat down to write a real song since October, and Jiahang’s fucking dad called him back to China last month. For what?! He’s backing out, isn’t he?! He’s selling his shares because New Wave is dying. They’re going to debut the girls and just– fate out with us in it!”

Gyujin takes a defeated breath. Finally, he makes his way down the wall. “Sony hyung–”

“Don’t you Sony hyung me, man!” Seungsoo exclaims, angling his head up to fully face Gyujin, round eyes on round eyes. “Look, I know I talk even when I shouldn’t, I know my brain is goddamn slow, that it makes me do stupid shit, but why is everyone keeping things from me now?! I’m a producer too, aren’t I?! I’m a part of LOOPiN just as much as everyone, maybe even more than some people we got! Isolating me is fucked!”

“No one is isolating you, Seungsoo. Things are just complicated when it comes to giving you confidential information,” Gyujin counters, crossing his arms in front of his chest. His voice is again different, hitting at him cutting and terminal. It infuriates Seungsoo more. “And you know why that is. You put yourself in a hard position. Face it: you broke the trust. This is your own doing.”

Seungsoo’s mouth hangs open, stays open. “I broke the– what?! Why?! Because I pushed Jiahang once when he was about to do cocaine off an Inkigayo sink?! Because I took Dylan with me to haunt down a serial rapist?! I don’t regret any of those things, and I never will!”

“Was that all you did, really? Because the way I see it, the way it came across for everyone, was you going all vigilante over the members' private business,” Gyujin stresses. “And what good did any of these things do for anyone? You almost costed Jiahang his eye, Seungsoo. You almost got Chihoon arrested–”

“So now it’s all my fault?! We’re sinking, we’re doomed, and it’s all my fault?! Fuck you! You have no idea how or why– what do you even know about anything, really?!” Seungsoo spits at him, infuriated. “You just fucking got here, and– and you’ve been with us for a year and some fucking weeks, max! And it seems like everyone forgot that, that they all forgot that there was a time without you, but I didn’t! Do you even know what Haegon said, when he came with the idea of unfollowing Dylan?! ‘No matter what we do now Gyujin’s gonna fix it in the morning, so let’s do something dumb and tiny, so he won’t kill us!’ Like you’re in control or something! But news flash, this is New Wave Music, and you’re not in control, no one is! And if someone was, that someone would be me! Minwoo, Jimin, and me!”

“Or maybe not, now!” Seungsoo’s mouth keeps on going. He’s griping at the concrete of the balcony with one hand, pointing one straight at the center of Gyujin’s chest, and just letting a whole torrent out. “Maybe you do deserve trust more than I do! You– You know everything because everyone tells you everything, and you songwrite too, you can still play the tuba, why don’t you just take my fucking place, uh? If I get it all wrong and you do it all right?! Go be an executive producer, go on! Fuck writing all over just Beomseok, end me too! Minwoo likes you better anyway, maybe you can make his slump go away! Jimin fucking likes you better too, he won’t even mind me being gone, you might even get him to stop hiding Nicola from everyone, who knows!”

Seungsoo takes a shaky pause to breathe, his chest rising. He’s sure his face is red, that there’s a line of sweat on his forehead.

Gyujin remains too close and unmoving, his eyes semi close, analyzing.

“And what else?” He asks. He’s still grinning like he knows something Seungsoo doesn’t. “C’mon, go on. Spill it all out. I wanna hear it.”

“You sick–!” Seungsoo grunts, then takes another deep inhale, ends up almost choking on his own spit.

Coughing, he dismangles his grip off Gyujin’s shirt and forces himself to fall silent – they both do. Somewhere down in the street, a million cars honk and make out a disastrous symphony, and it pierces through Seungsoo’s ears like he’s in the middle of traffic. He’s minutes away from developing a killer migraine.

“So this is what comes out of you when you’re scared, yeah?” Gyujin eventually notes, quiet. Seungsoo can almost hear the tiny smile on his face stretching and growing warmer, showing just a flash of front teeth, white like a goddamn grain of salt. “Pretty animalistic reaction, although highly entertaining–”

“I’m not scared,” Sengsoo fires back, even though he is. He knows it deep in his bones, by the lack of good sleep: he’s terrified of blinking too slowly and missing any more warning signs, more sunny days; fearing they’re already all long behind him. He turns his head down. “Just, just– Tired of feeling– Tired.”

And feeling like I don’t belong, is what he thinks but doesn’t say: Like I’m not good at my job. Like no one will ever forgive me.

He feels one of Gyujin’s warm hands setting over his shoulder, offering it a squeeze. This time Seungsoo leaves it there, allowing it to linger. “Hyung, I can see that. We all can. You’ve been putting on some crazy hours in the studio lately. We appreciate how hard you’re covering for Minwoo hyung. I might not have thanked you for that yet, so–”

“Spare me the prase shower, Woo Gyujin,” Seungsoo grunts, running a hand over his face, onto his hair. “Just tell me to fuck off now so I can go to sleep with at least one argument settled.”

“And make it that much easier for you? Ha, of course not,” Gyujin laughs, amused. “Besides, we’re not fighting, have never fought, and never will. You have nothing to settle with me. But I’ll give you space to gather your courage to face who you really should.”

“Fuck you,” Seungsoo says, just to be the one to get the last words as Gyujin’s walking back and away. It comes off sounding tiny and defeated, a little ashamed.

He doesn’t get that: as soon as Gyujin gets a hand on the door, he calls back, “And in the meantime…”

Seungsoo takes an annoyed peek over his shoulder to glare at him. “What?”

“Follow Dylan back, you fucking drama queen,” Gyujin says, rolling his eyes, grinning like the Devil he pretends he isn't. “And relax, okay? We’ll be fine. We always are.”

And he disappears behind the glass, pulling the curtains inside and turning off the light.

On the tiny balcony only Seungsoo and the never quiet city remain, looking as the sun goes down and down.

#&& ⠀ [ . . . ] hound on a hunt ⠀⸻ writing .#&& ⠀ [ . . . ] hound on a hunt ⠀⸻ development .#&& ⠀ [ . . . ] hound on a hunt ⠀⸻ seungsoo .#fictional idol community #fake kpop group #kpop fanfic #kpop au #kpop oc

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postoctobrist · 2 years ago

Note

Any idea why discussions of the UK press always focus on the papers themselves as if they’re individual entities with will and skip over the very obvious, journalism wide problem with class? Is it because commentators are also from upper class backgrounds and don’t want to shit where they eat?

Like call me stupid but if 80% of people in a profession come from a minority class who all make sure to attend the same schools and universities then obviously they’re going to develop echo chambers right?

Well aware that I’m asking yet another political commentator from an upper class background, but I at least expect a modicum of honesty from you.

I don’t think they do skip over it. People talk about individual papers or channels or whatever because they really do have different cultures and editorial lines even within an elite and nepotistic business. On the other hand, we’ve also seen that it’s able to incorporate and defang outsiders when they’re willing to keep to the line. But I don’t think we’re short of left critique of public schools or Oxbridge.

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jinxquickfoot · 1 year ago

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@badthingshappenbingo prompt: Trying Not to Cry

Find the fic on Ao3

“Morning, Boss.”

Kate’s tone is chipper. Upbeat, happy, top-o-the-morning chipper. Clint definitely isn’t going to suspect that a single thing is wrong.

Clint squints up at her over the coffee he’s just poured. “What’s wrong?"

“Literally all I said was good morning.”

“Uh-huh.” Clint’s eyes travel down to the Daily Bugle clutched in Kate’s hand. “Good read?”

“No, actually.” Kate hastily balls up the paper, lobbing it towards the trash. It bounces off the rim. “It was so boring that I’ve forgotten what I read.”

“Kate, you just missed a shot from three feet away.” Clint moves to pick the paper up.

“No, don’t! You don’t want to read that.”

Clint takes her in again, then relaxes. “What is this time? That archery is a ridiculous superpower? That I’m the most useless Avenger? That no one knows why I was even on the team to begin with?”

Kate tries to distract him as Clint starts to uncrumple the paper. “All of which would be cleared up if you agreed to do just one interview.”

“I don’t waste time on reporters. Never have, never will.” He succeeds in unfurling the pages. “Kate, I've been hearing that kind of stuff for years. Jesus, I agree with half of it—although not with the Bugle, everything that comes out of Jamison’s mouth is garbage. So don’t bother trying to spare my feelings, at this point I just ignore…” He trails off, finally finding the page that had slapped Kate in the face that morning.

“It’s fine,” Kate says, too quickly. “Like you said, garbage.” Her voice cracks on the last word, and Kate has never been more embarrassed in her life.

Clint slowly lifts his head from the article to her face.

“Just forget it.” She’s not going to cry about this. She’s not. “I have.”

She hasn’t. The words are seared into her.

The world is approaching a new generation of superheroes. From arugula green lawyers in California, to a rather womanly Thor sighting in Norway, to what some are calling a controversial and nepotistic choice of Captain America’s successor, to a brand new Iron Man struck down too soon in the form of Quentin Beck, it seems we do not need to fear a lack of superheroes in our future—whatever their quality may be.

The world has come a long way from the first battle for the planet in 2012, when six unlikely heroes gathered to rid New York of aliens. While it may be a relief to some that their titles are passed on, others—this newspaper included—argue that it is time for some mantles to be retired, if they ever should have been held to such high esteem in the first place.

Residents of New York would have spotted a purple-clad archer in their midsts over the Christmas period. The vigilante responsible for destroying the beloved Rockefeller Christmas tree has been identified as Kate Bishop, nepo-baby of Bishop Security, whose stocks have plummeted after the arrest of its CEO, Eleanor Bishop, in December.

While it may be comforting to hear that the younger Bishop is not planning to follow in the footsteps of her criminal mother, her other choice of career must be called into question. We are in the heyday of superheroes, from Captain Marvel to Doctor Strange, with powers beyond reckoning. Is this really an appropriate environment to be resurrecting the Hawkeye name? A bow and arrow versus the cosmic forces of time and space?

‘Superhero’ is now the number one job aspiration of anyone under eight years old, and it is tempting to believe that we could all put on a silly costume and run around saving the day from otherworldly monsters. And with a lack of scientific genius or enhanced abilities, it seems Bishop has reached for the easiest to imitate Avenger and given it her best shot. However, unlike her namesake, she is not hitting the bullseye.

With multiple counts of destruction of public property, the daughter of a known associate of Wilson ‘Kingpin’ Fisk, and an extremely superfluous choice of mentor to boot (really, what does Hawkeye even do when he runs out of arrows? Stand around and wait for the rest of the heroes to do the actual work?), perhaps it is time for Bishop to leave the play-pretend game to the children, and allow herself to grow up.

Clint is still watching her. Kate turns beet red as she feels him take in the tiny quiver of her lip, the way she knows her eyes are overbright and shiny.

Then he’s moving. “Stay here. I’m going out.”

“Where?” Kate demands.

Clint downs the rest of his coffee, then scoops up the entire pot for good measure. “Out.”

“You’re not going to the Bugle,” Kate protests. “You just said you don’t talk to reporters!”

“I’m going to talk to one today.”

“No, you’re not, don’t even worry about— Clint. Clint!”

But Clint and the coffee pot are already gone.

It’s hours before he comes back.

Kate’s curled up on the couch with Lucky, watching some rerun of a show she doesn’t particularly care about. She’d expected to finally cry the second Clint had left her apartment, but the tears hadn’t come. It’s as though they’re sitting in a block in her chest, weighing her down, refusing to shift.

The front door finally clicks open, Clint shucking off his rain-soaked jacket as he carefully places a now empty coffee pot by the shoe rack.

“So,” Kate calls from the couch. “How was your first time talking to the press?”

Clint’s answer is to lob a sheaf of paper across the room, where it lands perfectly on the coffee table next to her. “A copy of the article they’re running tomorrow. Page seven.”

Kate picks up the newspaper, scanning the first few opening lines before she tosses it away. “So you went down to the Bugle, pulled out your I used to be a very scary assassin act, and forced Jameson to write something nice about me.”

“I thought about it,” Clint admits. He makes his way over to the armchair opposite her, sinking into it with a relieved sigh. “But as tempting as it was, no.”

Kate frowns over the new article. “Then how—”

“Well, I started by pulling up the footage of you rescuing that cat from the burning building last week. And then I gave him the number of that couple whose bakery you stopped from being robbed on Tuesday. And then I called in a favour with a certain superhero in Hell’s Kitchen to remind Jameson just what a big deal it is that you took on Kingpin, alone, and won. Among other things. Why do you think I was gone all day?”

That block in Kate’s chest finally feels like it’s thawing. “So much for the press not mattering.”

Clint shrugs. “It doesn’t. And I can’t promise that you won’t have to get used to the constant jabs about why a non-powered human with a paleolithic weapon is running around with Avengers. And maybe those quips about being superfluous or whatever were true for me, but they are never going to be true for you.”

Kate’s lips twitch. “Well, you’re biased.”

“Yeah, that’s true.”

Kate fiddles with one of Lucky’s ears. “You’re not superfluous, Clint. If you hadn’t been at the Battle of New York, my mom and I would have died. A lot more people would have died.”

He offers her a smile “Well, lucky I was there then. No one else could possibly annoy me into wearing a costume.”

“If your branding was on point, maybe they wouldn’t be throwing around words like superfluous in the first place.”

“No, they still would.” Clint seems entirely unbothered by the idea. “That’s not what I care about. What I do care about is when they make my partner cry.”

Kate ducks her head. “I didn’t cry.”

“Uh-huh, sure.”

“It wasn’t just…” Kate pauses, clearing her throat. “All that stuff they said about me, that wasn’t fun. But I was actually more upset about what they said about my mom. Because maybe what they said about me is just opinion, or whatever, but what they said about her. It’s real.”

“I know,” Clint says softly. “But it’s not the whole truth. Like how she did it all to protect you.”

“Doesn’t make it right.”

“No, it doesn’t.” Clint clasps his hands together. “I know I’m meant to be flying back to the farm tonight, but I can stay.”

“I’m fine,” Kate says quickly. “Go back to your family. I pull you away from them enough.”

Clint considers her for a few more moments. “Or,” he offers. “You could come with me. The kids would love to see you.”

Kate pictures a weekend at the Barton farm, cooking with Laura, shooting a bow with Lila and Cooper, reading books to Nate. A little break to be around family for a while. “Do you get the Bugle delivered out there?”

“I can promise that we absolutely don’t.”

Kate sits up straight, making Lucky wag his tail at the potential for a walk or a snack. “Then a weekend at the farm sounds perfect.”

#bad things happen bingo #bthb card #trying not to cry #hawkeye tv #kate bishop #clint barton #drabble

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hannahssimblr · 11 months ago

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Chapter Two (Part 2)

We sit in the beer garden of a lively pub near Smithfield square, and the sky is blue and perfect and birds are chirping high in the trees whose branches overhang the muraled walls. Izzy wants to get drinks for everyone, and when she asks me what I want I shrug. “Oh, I don’t really feel like drinking.” I say, not adding in the part about how I’ve been avoiding drinking alcohol at all in front of people I don’t know very well lately.

“That’s fine.” She says immediately. “I’ll fetch you a club orange or something?”

“Yeah, that’d be nice.” She goes away then and I’m a bit startled. I was expecting her to force me to have something alcoholic, but she didn’t. She didn’t even ask me why I’m abstaining, and I didn’t have to make up some excuse about antibiotics. Nobody else seems to care about it either, and when she brings our drinks to the table on a little round tray, nobody makes any designated driver jokes, they just take their ciders and their beers and have them without even batting an eye at my fizzy drink.

“So do you like NCAD?” Simon asks me, drawing me out of my own head. I nod. “Yeah, it’s alright. I preferred it in second year where we got to specialise into something more specific. The general nature of first year didn’t do it for me so much.”

“I was the same when I was there, you get lumped in with all the weirdos too.” He laughs, and so does Izzy, and I realise that NCAD being full of oddballs probably is a universal experience, rather than something specific to my year.

“Was there someone in your year who made their final project using their own period blood?” Izzy wants to know, and I’m taken aback by her question. I wonder where she heard about Marnie’s menstrual cup sculpture.

“Yeah, there was.”

“Yeah there’s at least one of them every year. They always love doing that.”

“In my year some lad made a film of him wanking himself off and put the stills from it on the walls.” Simon comments.

“Oh my God.” Says Gabriel with disgust. “What is wrong with this college?”

“It’s just all these fine arts people in one big room together, it’s bound to get weird.” Izzy says. “When I specialised in print it was way more civilised.”

“My girlfriend did ceramics though.” Says Simon. “And there was a girl in hear class who made a cast of-”

“Enough!” Cries Gabriel. “I can’t hear about these depraved people. It was not like this for me, I hate it.”

Petra arrives then and gets herself a pint of cider, she’s carrying a little Mezzotint bag, and Gabriel wants to know what’s in it.

“One of those ceramic bud vases that came in this morning.” She says. “Evie and I were admiring them.”

“Yeah Simon’s girlfriend did them.” Says Izzy. “A very nepotistic addition to the Mezzotint shop, in my opinion.” Then she punches his arm. “I’m joking, she’s brill.”

We go back to chatting, and I try not to think about how cool and intimidating every one of them is. I felt the same way on my first day in the studio two weeks ago, and it hasn’t faded much as I’ve gotten to know them. Izzy is talking about a gig that’s coming up in a couple of weeks that she’s rehearsing for. She sings with a band sometimes called Earthworm and makes us all promise to come and watch them play. I realise that in the two years I’ve lived in Dublin I’ve never gone to a gig. It feels like a very strange thing, considering how many opportunities there were, but Marnie or Dean were never interested in music, and so I wasn’t either.

She’s talking about the songs they’re thinking about doing when Simon is distracted by the arrival of his girlfriend. “Oh, here she is.” He says with a grin, and we all look around to see a petite, dark haired girl come into the beer garden with a big pint of blackcurrant in her hand. I do a double take. That’s Michelle Tengu. That’s Jude’s ex. She comes over and settles into the seat next to Simon and he hooks his arm around her neck and pulls her into him to kiss her hair.

“Hi guys.” She says in droll, northside cadence. “How are ye getting on?” I wait anxiously for her to notice me. Or not notice me, as there is every chance I left so little of an impression on her both times that we met, but she frowns at me with recognition. “Oh, hi.”

“That’s Evie, our intern.” Simon tells her.

“No, I actually know you.” She says. “You’re Jen’s friend, right? We met you a good while ago in a cocktail bar.”

“You did, yeah.” I say, and then hesitate. “How is Jen?”

“Yeah she’s… well, you know, the usual.”

“Oh right.” I don’t ask what she’s up to, because once I start talking about her, I’ll have to think about her, and thinking about Jen will always lead to thinking about Jude, and thinking too much about either her or Jude makes me feel completely sick with guilt. I haven’t spoken to either of them in over a year, and even though once, last year, I saw Jen in the deli queue in Supervalu, but I didn’t go over to say hello to her. I just paced through the aisles of the supermarket pretending to be looking for something until I saw her checking out and leaving.

“Aw, Jen is the best.” Says Izzy. “We love her, what a sweetheart! I can’t believe you know her. This really is a small town.”

“Yeah it is…” I say, frowning into my Club Orange. For some reason I feel uneasy. Like it’s all about to start getting even smaller.

Beginning // Prev // Next

#lucky girl part 3 #tw: alcohol

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pbscore · 9 months ago

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BRO ARE YOU SERIOUS??? 😭

Bill Skarsgard??? For the damn CROW REMAKE??

HELL NOOOOOO 😭 He looks so out of place and not at all like the character.

Where is the DRAMA? Where is the grungy gothic attire?? Where is the bedraggled look of despair and hope and longing in his eyes?? Where is the stylish eyeliner and feminine, whimsical personality of the original??

I would rather they cast a brand new actor than a nepotist actor tbh I’m tired of seeing his ass in all the movies where they need a gaunt looking white man. Brandon Lee brought so much swagger and charm to that role and a genuine rawness because he clearly understood the character. Brandon was also half Chinese and his striking features and martial arts skills are what made the entire look so ICONIC!

Bill just looks too… ‘clean cut’ for the role of a character who isn’t because of trauma and despair and rage. He looks more like a Joker type villain than The Crow ™️ and that irks me so badly because I LOVE The Crow (the books and the original movie).

#yes i have passionate media opinions on a niche film and i’m RIGHT lol #the crow #i’m sorry but the casting is just not what i would have gone with nor is it something i would have assumed #fans of the story would actually want #what’s wrong with taking a chance on new and raw actors?? i’m so tired of these nepo babies who are so mediocre at acting but are given #preferential treatment simply because of their name and their family legacies in Hollywood #pbscore

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asimplearchivist · 11 months ago

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𝓐 𝓢𝓽𝓪𝓰𝓷𝓪𝓷𝓽 𝓛𝓲𝓯𝓮

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈 𝐨𝐟 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓.

[𝓪𝓼𝓲𝓶𝓹𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓬𝓱𝓲𝓿𝓲𝓼𝓽'𝓼 𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽] [ 𝐏𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐘𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐘 𝐃𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ] [ AO3 | SPOTIFY | PINTEREST ] summary ✨ ⤏ Eliana Kouros is at the end of her rope. She hopes that the yearly tradition of camping in Eterna Forest's sprawling wilds will help to clear her head, but her life takes another turn beyond anything that she could ever have expected. pairing(s) ✨ [none] word count ✨ 3.6k a/n ✨ [divider credit] ⤏ A prologue of sorts that I decided to scrap from the main story, but I was a little too fond of the introduction to discard it completely, so I figured that I could post it separately instead to give it its own spotlight. :)

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me.”

The doorknob was jammed. Again.

“‘Oh, no, I fixed it last weekend while you were out working!’” Eliana muttered, pitching her voice low in her throat to mock her notoriously inattentive landlord. She shoved the key into the slot, jimmying it just enough for the grooves to catch the deadbolt’s worn teeth, and twisted it roughly. The lock finally gave, and she twisted the knob to pull the heavy door open. Pulling the ring free was another matter entirely, and she was red in the face by the time she shuffled into the dimly lit apartment and allowed her bag to slide from her shoulder to drop heavily onto the floor.

Eliana’s roommate, dressed in flannel pajama bottoms and a hoodie worn backward, looked up from the book sprawled across her lap, her glasses perched on the edge of her nose and blonde curls framing her face. Her partner Budew was snuggled into the hood draped over her chest, already dormant for the night. She raised a tawny brow. “Damn, girl, you look like shit.”

“Thank you, Eireanne,” Eliana sighed in response. She kicked off her boots, placed them on the rack, and trudged over to sink onto the cushion next to her roommate. “I feel like shit.”

Eireanne placed a bookmark between the pages and pressed the book closed, leaning forward and setting it on the coffee table while cupping the bud Pokémon with her free hand so she wouldn’t be jostled and disturbed. “What happened?”

“What happened?” Eliana scoffed. “What didn’t happen?” She sank back into the couch and slung her arm over her eyes. “I’m not stupid, right? I went to university, got the parchment with the shiny seal, and got the job of my dreams. I spent years of my life working up to this, gave that place my all—even worked overtime without once complaining about the lack of pay—but what happens when the profit margins drop because of their nepotistic hiring tendencies towards people whose books they can’t be bothered to check for embezzlement? I get dropped! Laid off! Because who the hell needs job security, right?” Eliana let out a manic little laugh, smothering her face in her hands. “Not me, whose family warned her not to go into this field in the first place! Not me, who had to pay her own way all through school by picking up coins off the street while barely dodging debt! Not me, who was saving up to finally buy a house!”

“Damn,” Eireanne echoed, rubbing a sympathetic hand along Eliana’s rigid shoulder, “I’m so sorry. You didn’t deserve that—not after all the work you put into it. Did they just say ‘sorry, not sorry’ or did they give you some bullshit excuse?”

“‘The projections of our future plans do not have enough room to include you,’” Eliana quoted bitterly. “What does that even mean? I was holding down the entire horticultural department! They’re not going to know the first thing about taking care of those Pokémon!”

“Maybe they’ll come crawling back with an apology?” Eireanne suggested, perched on the edge of her seat with a tight frown. “Of course…you probably wouldn’t want to go back there after this. Are you going to file a lawsuit?”

“With what money, Ren?” Eliana groaned. “It’s justified on their end—I’m sure they’ve created a paper trail to justify it.”

“I’ve got a buddy I know from university who specializes in this kind of stuff,” the other woman suggested. “I could give you his number. He’ll get you all sorted out.”

“Maybe,” Eliana sighed. “I’ll have to think about it.”

Eireanne stood up and wandered into their tiny kitchen, voice raised to reach around the corner. “Are you still going on our trip tomorrow? I know you’ve been really looking forward to getting out of Alamos Town.”

“Shit,” she groaned, sitting up and running her fingers through her hair. “I completely forgot, after all of that.”

“I’m sure the guys would understand,” Eireanne assured her, coming back into the main room with two plates piled high with steaming food. “We could rain check for next weekend maybe, give you some time to readjust. You’re obviously upset.”

“No, I’m not going to flake on all of you after we’ve been planning this all summer. Our…well, your work schedules are crazy as it is. It’ll be another three months before we can reorganize it. Besides, I’ve already packed for it—it’ll be a pain in the ass to take it all back out of the bag.”

“Whatever you say,” Eireanne responded, placing the plate in the botanist’s lap. “Sounds like you need a glass of wine, yeah?”

“I’d kill a man for a whole bottle,” Eliana responded dryly, surveying the array of roasted, herbal poultry, sautéed, honeyed root vegetables, and mulled, spiced pears. “This looks divine, Ren. You need a taste tester in that fancy restaurant of yours? My schedule’s suddenly opened up.”

Eireanne laughed quietly, set her own plate on the table, and wandered back into the kitchen. “I’ll have to ask Richard if a position’s available. I’m not sure you’d be all that good of a judge, though—you think everything I cook is good.”

“Because it is!” Eliana dove in, going for the pears first. The fork sank into the flesh like butter, releasing notes of cloves and cinnamon. “You’ve never made anything I haven’t liked.”

“Taste-testers have to have a refined palate, I’m afraid, so we can actually figure out what to serve. Our menu would be a mile long if you had your say.”

“And nobody would complain one bit,” Eliana retorted around a mouthful of fruit, lashes fluttering as the flavors burst over her tongue. “But I understand. Most people are too picky to enjoy the simpler things in life.”

A glass of rosé was set in front of her, and Eireanne sank down into her seat once more. “I can take of a couple of days soon,” she suggested, “if you want to go on a girl’s trip or something. I heard Snowpoint’s already had their first snowfall this year.”

“I couldn’t ask you to do that,” Eliana sighed, swallowing and chasing it with the sweet wine. “I’ll be fine, really. I can start job searching next week.”

“Are you going to tell your folks?”

“Why would I?” Eliana snorted. “They’ve never helped me before. They wanted me to be a coordinator so bad, and…well. You already know. That I actually wanted to be a scientist without entering the competitive field was unfathomable to them.”

“I know.” Eireanne grabbed the remote and chose the most recent episode of Sinnoh’s yearly regional baking competition—something mindless that the both of them enjoyed after dealing with people all day. “If you need some pocket money, just let me know. I got my bonus and a raise for next year.”

“I’ve got enough saved up to last me a while, but thank you.” Eliana leaned back and stuffed a softened carrot into her mouth. “I just don’t know what I’m going to do now.”

“You’ll figure it out, girl.” Eireanne nudged Eliana’s arm with her elbow. “You never know what’s around the corner—this may be the best thing that’s ever happened to you. It’s just hard to tell right now.”

“Maybe so.” Eliana squinted at the television. “He’s not putting eggs in his dough.”

“Oh, no,” Eireanne groaned. ��He’s misremembered his substitutes.”

“He’s doomed.”

“Agreed. Let’s see if the thing will even hold together.”

“Doubt it. Bet a ten?”

“Sure.”

“There’s our girls!” called Cal, beaming as he waved wildly from his seat by the campfire already merrily crackling away.

“You don’t have to announce it to the entire forest!” Eireanne laughed, complexion darkening as she returned his smile.

Eliana rolled her eyes. The two had been dancing around each other ever since senior year, and she was half-tempted to hogtie them together until they figured out the fact that they were undeniably devoted to each other. “If they haven’t heard you guys cackling, anyway. I’m surprised all the Pokémon haven’t hunted you down to shut you up.”

Bradley and Derrick both laughed at Cal’s grumpy frown, standing up to help the girls with their packs.

“Glad you could make it,” said Bradley, eyes twinkling as he poked Eliana’s sternum. “I was worried you’d bail on us after getting the axe.”

“Brad!” Eireanne scolded. “I told you not to bring it up!”

“What? Were we supposed to dance around it the whole time?” he asked indignantly. “It was bound to come up eventually!”

“Ren, it’s fine,” Eliana said, shaking her head. “It doesn’t bother me.”

Eireanne’s skeptical face was sufficient to express her doubt, likely recalling the fact that Eliana had cried in the shower that morning thinking about the fact that she wouldn’t get to interact with the Pokémon in the arboretum anymore, but she was gracious enough not to bring it up in front of the guys.

“And,” Eliana added, addressing the three men, “you don’t have to give me any pity. Let’s just acknowledge it and move on.”

“Still,” Derrick said somberly, “it sucks. I can name at least three people they should’ve let go before you should have even been considered. I could talk to my boss to see if you could get a job at the clinic—we could always use some more hands.”

“Let me see what I can find first, then I’ll start asking for nonrepayable favors,” Eliana responded. She gestured to the campsite—it seemed that they had already gotten busy crafting the lean-to’s to protect their tents. “What else needs to be done?”

“We could use some more firewood,” said Cal, scratching his chin. “I could loan you my Machoke to help carry it.”

“No, thank you, I’m good.” Eliana slipped her satchel off her shoulder, pulled out her work belt, and buckled it around her waist before loading her bush crafting tools into the hooks. “Holler if you need anything else, I’m heading for that dead clearing like usual.”

“Whatever you say,” Cal waved her off, turning to Eireanne. “Please tell me you brought food. We forgot.”

“You boys are helpless,” sighed the blonde.

“We got distracted by the girl that walks the dog-Pokémon for our block,” Bradley said plainly, resulting in Derrick smacking his shoulder.

Eliana thought that falling back into the rhythm of camping in the middle of Eterna Forest would afford her some peace of mind, but even in the relative silence of the woods, her mind wouldn’t shut off. She was able to work off some of her anger by splitting wood, thankfully, drawing the eyes of wild, curious Pokémon—she couldn’t see them, but she felt their gazes and heard their quiet chattering under the whispering wind and the burbling creek a stone’s throw through the trees.

The evening passed in normalcy, the others eventually letting out their Pokémon to enjoy the great outdoors. Cal’s Machoke, his partner in crime, had a great time stacking the chopped log Eliana lugged back, while Cal regaled his latest misadventures as a personal trainer at the gym in Veilstone. Bradley had moved up in the world—his specialization in Pokémon nutrition afforded him a rather lofty position at a kibble testing and production facility in Jubilife, and his Luxray was living the good life sampling each new prototype (and had gained about fifteen pounds in doing so). Derrick’s clinic in Solaceon was steady with a well-established clientele, and his passion for rehabilitating injured Pokémon leaked through his technical terminology—his Blissey had tried several times already to cuddle up to Eliana, but she wasn’t in the mood to entertain the happiness Pokémon’s fussy instincts.

Several hours after supper, everyone cleaned up and retired to bed—but after another hour or so of tossing and turning, Eliana gave up trying to sleep. She grabbed her pack and slipped out of her tent as quietly as she could—the others’ Pokémon were all curled into a pile next to the embers, with Eireanne’s Budew in the center looking as happy as ever.

Eliana gritted her teeth and picked her way into the woods. It was a foolish thing to do, to leave without letting one of the others know, but this wasn’t the first time she’d done this and it wouldn’t likely be the last. She knew the paths as well as the back of her hand by this point, after years of returning to the same location and adventuring all around the forest and mountainside.

Within fifteen minutes she found her favorite spot—where the creek flowed into a sprawling lake that reflected the glittering array of stars scattered overhead. The moon was full and glowing, casting shadows across the ebbing shore. If Eliana squinted she’d be able to spot the nocturnal Pokémon lingering on the edges of the water, hunting and playing. She couldn’t count the number of times that the local Misdreavus population had gotten a kick of out scaring the shit out of her—but their little keks of satisfaction were more endearing than she’d ever readily admit.

Eliana found a wave-smoothed boulder and sat on the gravelly shore against it, feeling the tension ease out of her body the longer she listened to the chirruping of nearby Kricketunes with their Kricketot orchestras. The water rippled as the fish Pokémon lipped its surface in search of insect Pokémon unfortunate enough to rest there for too long. It was as serene a scene as she could conceivably find, and without the gazes of the others weighing her down, she could finally relax.

She reached under her sweatshirt and pulled out the delicate chain that rested against her clavicle, eyes resting upon the bronze nametag dangling in the mercurial light. The sight of it didn’t immediately bring tears to her eyes like it used to, but the melancholic heaviness that had since replaced them gripped her heart. She folded it into her palm and pressed it against her chest, closing her eyes and tilting her head back against the boulder briefly. “I still miss you, sweet thing. I hope you know that.”

Many people could deal with the loss of their childhood partner by capturing, buying, or being gifted another Pokémon—but Eliana had never quite been able to allow herself to grow attached again. She’d been so heartbroken by losing her first that she had never wanted to experience that loss ever again, although the accidental circumstances surrounding the situation had likely made a far more lasting impact than it would have otherwise. She didn’t think poorly of people who had the fortitude to move on—one never truly stopped grieving (unless he or she was heartless, anyway), only had to let love grow around it—she admired them, truly. Perhaps she was a coward for closing herself off, but self-preservation was something that had always been ingrained in her.

Her parents had seen to all her needs growing up and had promised to support her, but only as long as she’d shown promise as a Pokémon trainer—they’d eventually decided that she should follow her older sister’s path of becoming a Pokémon coordinator, seeing as Anaile found so much success in her career, but Eliana hadn’t understood the appeal of it. At first, they’d backed off, thinking that she’d choose to pursue the league championship instead—but once Eliana had professed her intention of pursuing science instead, they’d shut her out.

Eliana had come to terms with it by now. Anaile still called her occasionally to keep in touch, not knowing what happened to drive such a rift between their parents and her little sister, but Eliana hadn’t spoken to them since she’d moved to Alamos Town to attend its university. With as high of grades as she’d gotten in high school, scholarships weren’t difficult to come by—and they were likely the lifeline that had kept her afloat, trying to keep a roof over her head and food in her fridge with the money she made working on the side.

Still. Being one of the only people who didn’t have at least one Pokémon made her stand out—and not necessarily in a good way. Too many strangers found it far too comfortable to pry into the reasons why she didn’t have a partner, although she could deal with the ones usually pertaining to phobias or lack of opportunities. Occasionally she had to shut down the conversation when they hit a button too close to home.

That was partly why she had been grateful to work in the relative privacy of the lab or her office—the public was only allowed to visit the arboretum and the indoor botanical garden, so, most of the time (unless she had been forced to give tours or presentations), she never had to speak to anyone save her coworkers, who had learned early on not to delve into that topic of conversation.

It wasn’t that she no longer held any affection for Pokémon—far from it, in fact, seeing as she had grown quite fond of the inhabitants of the research facility—but she couldn’t stand to entertain the thought of subjecting herself to losing another partner.

A flicker of light against her eyelids caused Eliana to crack them open, squinting across the surface of the lake for any signs of life she had missed in her initial visual sweep. There were alpha Pokémon that lived this far into the woods, and visitors were always cautioned to give them a wide berth—although the arguably more dangerous ilk of the sort, like Lopunny or Dustox, only came out during the day, Mismagius and Honchkrow could pose a danger to an unwitting, sleepy bystander at an hour like this. Closer to camp, with a Machoke, Luxray, and Blissey on guard (because Eireanne’s Budew was still considerably frail for its age), most wild Pokémon would know better than to stir up trouble unless intentionally posing a challenge to one of the trainers.

Nothing of the sort caught her eye. A Mismagius’ moves could cause tricks of the eye, but she wasn’t even getting a glimpse of that. All was perfectly peaceful.

Eliana frowned, readjusting more comfortably in her spot. Shrouded in shadow for the most part, it would be difficult for the average Pokémon to spot her, so she let her eyes drift shut once more, breathing in the cool lakeshore air while listening to the quiet symphony surrounding her.

She would never be able to tell at what point that she fell asleep.

Eliana had never been much of a dreamer.

That was precisely why she found it extremely unusual to become aware of the fact that she was asleep, that she was dreaming, and that she retained full control of her thoughts, movements, and actions within the landscape trapped inside of her mind.

Lucidity was something that many people strove, sometimes nightly, to achieve while they slept for the sake of the fantastical whimsy with which they would play in the boundless capabilities of the human mind, so perhaps she should have felt grateful for the opportunity—but she had always thought that it sounded exhausting. It was difficult enough to feel well-rested even with unlimited hours available to her schedule on the weekends, much less having to endure a full night while still conscious.

Eliana frowned as she peered into the vast and endless expanse submerging her weightless body. She floated, listless, slowly spinning on an axis tethered to an undetectable center of gravity. That she could still breathe and that she could feel her heart thrumming beneath her chest proved both that she was not in space nor dead, which had been the first two explanations that had surfaced in her rousing, delayed thoughts, as absurd as the concepts were—that it was a dream could be the only reasonable explanation.

It would help if the scenery were a little more lively, even still—dreams were vibrant and senseless, not…empty voids lacking sight and sound, at least according to her limited experiences. She couldn’t name the subject matter that her child self had awoken with dancing just on the edge of recollection, but she knew that something wasn’t quite right about any of this.

A glimmer of light in her peripheral caused her to turn and throw out her arms in an attempt to balance herself. The free-falling sensation only worsened as golden light began to sparkle around her like a meteor shower, dazzling her eyes and causing her to cover her face to protect them. Tinkling starbursts filled her ears, and when she dared to peer out from between her fingers, she saw the light culminating into a massive shape a stone’s throw away. She watched as a quadruped formed there, an aureola emanating from what could only have been a Pokémon with a halo at its back. Its piercing eyes, colorless yet iridescent, peered at her in the dark, gauging.

Eliana stilled, feeling her body get caught in its unseen grip—she knew better than to antagonize an unfamiliar Pokémon—but something about its silhouette was…familiar to her, somehow, as though she’d seen it before.

It uttered not a sound as it looked at her, as though gazing into her very soul. Then, finally, it dipped its great head, the crest bobbing with the motion—and the light intensified, streaks of shimmering gold circling her and enveloping her in a wall of energy that caused every hair on her body to stand on end, frissons rocketing over her flesh despite the warmth of her clothes.

Then, at once, she careened downward into the vast, empty void below.

#fisara's codices #pokemon #pokemon mystery dungeon #pokemon mystery dungeon explorers #pokemon mystery dungeon explorers of sky #explorers of sky #pmd #pmd explorers #pmd eos #pmd2 #pmd 2 #original female character(s)#ao3: in the morning light

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dougielombax · 1 year ago

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Just leaving this here.

Along with several other linked articles.

While this magazine does attract cranks, this article makes a good point regardless.

Please reblog the shit out of this and send it to anyone and everyone who you feel is able to do so in turn.

The world could and should be boycotting and sanctioning the shite out of Azerbaijan for its despicable actions towards Armenia (and Artsakh).

(And no, Russia isn’t going to help them. They don’t give a shit, they’d happily turn the other way and let Azerbaijan do whatever, since Azerbaijan is helping Russia evade sanctions. Plus they’re too busy trying to destroy Ukraine and are propping up Assad’s nepotistic regime in Syria! Perish the thought!)

If they can do it to Russia for their putrid invasion of Ukraine (and they are rightly doing so!), they have no excuse to not do the same with Azerbaijan. Fossil fuels be damned!

I’m including a few more links for emphasis.

Here’s one.

The wording on this one is a bit off. Artsakh isn’t part of Azerbaijan. Regardless.

Another one.

I mentioned in an earlier post that Azerbaijan is blockading Artsakh and trying to starve its people.

All while the Russian “peacekeepers” in the area don’t do shit. They’re only there to give Putin’s putrid regime a continued foothold for influence in the region anyway.

Another one.

Azerbaijan CANNOT be allowed to operate with impunity!

Reblog the shit out of this entire post please.

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jlhynde-insanitybrilliance · 2 years ago

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Excerpt from UDLTTOM Ch. 14 (currently working on)

Professor Slughorn nodded, “Alright, Henry. As I was saying, I wanted to ask how you’ve been settling in here at Hogwarts?”

“It’s been fine,” Harry told him.

The professor arched a thick blond brow, frowning. “Really?” Clearly he wasn’t buying that after the incident that day.

“Well, it’s an adjustment,” Harry amended, “but I’m handling it.”

“And you’re managing to get on in your classes?” The professor asked him and Harry nodded.

“Like I said, it's an adjustment, but I can handle it,” the auror told him.

“That’s good. I’ve been hearing some worrying tales about you the last few days,” the man told him. “Tom Riddle expressed some concern for you, said you were skipping meals…”

Harry paused, fighting a sudden urge to scowl. “He did?”

“Yes,” the professor nodded. “He told me, he was worried that you were avoiding eating in the Great Hall because you might’ve felt uncomfortable with your peers…” Harry did frown then; hoping that it looked more thoughtful than annoyed, but he knew it was the later rather than the former. “I only brought this up because after today—well— I can see why he was worried.”

“I’m fine, professor,” Harry said. “The incident today won’t be repeated—”

Professor Slughorn cut him off. “I should hope not, Henry. But that’s not what I’m getting at. I’m aware that Slytherin house can be a difficult place for some kinds of wizards. I am aware that there is a nepotistic hierarchy present that for the most part doesn’t exist within the other three houses and that can make it difficult for those like yourself who haven’t had the same familial connections. Believe it or not you’re hardly the first person to be targeted because of your—” the man paused, seemingly unsure how to properly phrase what he was trying to say. Harry knew what he was trying to say anyways.

“You think I’m being singled out because I’m a muggleborn,” Harry said.

Professor Slughorn sighed. “Unfortunately, yes that is what I’m concerned with and what Mister Riddle is also concerned with I think. Because he knows what it’s like to be in the position you currently find yourself in. You know, you remind me a bit of him. He didn't get on with his peers much at first either.”

Harry surely scowled then; a facial tick he could hardly avoid at the professor’s words. If he had a galleon for every time someone had pointed out that horrid little comparison, he’d be able to open a second vault at Gringotts. It had been years since anyone had dared to compare the two, at least no one had said much of anything to Harry’s face in a long time. He knew it was still whispered about in private—the Dark Lord’s equal—Sometimes Harry got the sense that the general wizarding public was waiting for him to follow in Voldemort’s footsteps, as if any of a hundred everyday inconveniences were going to push him over a line he couldn’t come back from which never happened.

Slughorn, of course, misinterpreted Harry displeasure as confusion and continued his train of thought. “A bit hard to believe, I know, considering where he stands now… But Tom made an effort to compromise, to meet them halfway, he made an effort to get to know them beyond family politics…”

“What are you saying exactly, sir?” Harry set his tea aside to give the man his full attention.

“Merely, that Slytherins by nature are rather distrusting of strangers. We don’t like to get to know new people unless it's worth our while and you may see that as opportunistic—It can be at times— However, I would say that the nature of Slytherins is more in line with symbiosis. They will not invest in you unless you invest in them. I think you’re a bright boy with a promising future ahead of you working with the Unspeakables; and with your background I know you’re used to being on your own and remaining unattached from your peers, but if you want to make the most of your time here my advice is to make friends with your housemates. This hostility between yourself and your peers will not diminish if you continue to keep your distance, Henry. Mister Black made a valid point earlier this evening when he said you didn’t participate in any extracurricular activities. Perhaps if you joined a club or found a group of peers who shared your common interests you’d feel more comfortable. Do you have any hobbies?”

I never said I was uncomfortable...

Harry didn’t speak that thought aloud. He wanted to argue. To say that he was just fine being by himself, it was what he wanted. He didn’t need this distraction of slytherin house politics. But he also didn’t need people poking their nose into his business like Riddle seemed uncontrollably bound to do. Not to mention he didn’t have time for hobbies. It had been years since he had played an official match of Quidditch that wasn’t some pick-up game with his work colleagues or passing a quaffle around with James and Teddy. And there was something about the way Professor Slughorn was speaking to him, the not-so-subtle talking down as if Harry was a unruly child being told to play nice and make friends, that had his temper flaring. It took a tremendous amount of self-control to keep from snapping at the wizard.

“Yes, but I thought I was banned from extracurriculars, sir,” he pointed out.

“Well, technically,” Slughorn hummed, “But I think in yours and Mister Rowle’s case an argument could be made that it would be more beneficial for both of you to be more involved with the school. Less time to find yourselves in trouble—”

Damnit.

“And I think between myself and Professor Trelawney, we’d be able to convince the Headmaster to make an exception if you found a club you were interested in. Merrythought tells me you’ve been doing exceptionally well in her class and Tom is always looking for new talent to join the dueling club,” Slughorn offered, trying to be helpful.

Oh—He would rather die. Fuck that.

…

*Slughorn trying to be helpful & give good advice*

Harry:

#udlttom #tomarry fic #tomarry #udlttom excerpt #udlttom ch.14 #harry potter #horace slughorn #tom riddle #current wip #i’m in the process of writing ch. 14 #ao3 #hp fanfic

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