#We���re in the Army Now

[fuckyeahisawthat]

There are so many places in the Villeneuve Dune adaptations where he just...takes all the narrative pieces that Frank Herbert laid out and subtly rearranges them into something that tells the story better--that creates dramatic tension where you need it, communicates the themes and message of the book more clearly, or corrects something in the text that contradicts or undermines what Herbert said he was trying to say.

The fedaykin are probably my favorite example of this. I just re-read a little part of the book and got smacked in the face with how different they are.

(under the cut for book spoilers and length)

The fedaykin in the book are Paul's personal followers, sort of his personal guard. They show up after his legend has already started growing (the word doesn't appear in the book until chapter 40) and they are people who have specifically dedicated themselves to fighting for him, and right from the moment they're introduced there is a kind of implied fanaticism to their militancy that's a bit uncomfortable to read. They're the most ardent believers in Paul's messianic status and willing to die for him. (They are also, as far as you can tell from the text, all men.)

In the book, as far as I can remember (I could be forgetting some small detail but I don't think so) there is no mention of armed resistance to colonialism on Arrakis before Paul shows up. As far as we know, he created it. ETA: Okay I actually went back and checked on this and while we hear about the Fremen being "a thorn in the side" of the Harkonnens and we know that they are good fighters, we don't see anything other than possibly one bit of industrial sabotage. The book is very clear that the organized military force we see in the second half was armed and trained by Paul. This is exacerbated by the two-year time jump in the book, which means we never see how Paul goes from being a newly deposed ex-colonial overlord running for his life to someone who has his own private militia of people ready to give their lives for him.

The movie completely flips all these dynamics on their head in ways that add up to a radical change in meaning.

The fedaykin in the movie are an already-existing guerrilla resistance movement on Arrakis that formed long before Paul showed up. Literally the first thing we learn about the Fremen, less that two minutes into the first movie, is that they are fighting back against the colonization and exploitation of their home and have been for decades.

The movie fedaykin also start out being the most skeptical of the prophecy about Paul, which is a great choice from both a political and a character standpoint. Of course they're skeptical. If you're part of a small guerrilla force repeatedly going up against a much bigger and stronger imperial army...you have to believe in your own agency. You have to believe that it is possible to win, and that this tiny little chip in the armor of a giant terrifying military machine that you are making right now will make a difference in the end. These are the people who are directly on the front lines of resisting oppression. They are doing it with their own sweat, blood and ingenuity, and they are not about to wait around for some messiah who may never come.

From a character standpoint, this is really the best possible environment you could put Paul Atreides in if you want to keep him humble. He doesn't get any automatic respect handed to him due to title or birthright or religious belief. He has to prove himself--not as any kind of savior but as a good fighter and a reliable member of a collective political project. And he does. This is an environment that really draws out his best qualities. He's a skilled fighter; he's brave (sometimes recklessly so); he's intensely loyal to and protective of people he cares about. He is not too proud to learn from others and work hard in an egalitarian environment where he gets no special treatment or extra glory. The longer he spends with the fedaykin the more his allegiance shifts from Atreides to Fremen, and the more skeptical he himself becomes about the prophecy. This sets up the conflict with Jessica, which comes to a head before she leaves for the south. And his political sincerity--that he genuinely comes to believe that these people deserve liberation from all colonial forces and his only role should be to help where he can--is what makes the tragedy work. Because in the end we know he will betray all these values and become the exact thing he said he didn't want to be.

There's another layer of meaning to all this that I don't know if the filmmakers were even aware of. ETA: rescinding my doubt cause based on some of Villeneuve's other projects I'm pretty sure he could work it out. Given the time period (1960s) and Herbert's propensity for using Arabic or Arabic-inspired words for aspects of Fremen culture, it seems very likely that the made-up word fedaykin was taken from fedayeen, a real Arabic word that was frequently used untranslated in American news media at the time, usually to refer to Palestinian armed resistance groups.

Fedayeen is usually translated into English as fighter, guerrilla, militant or something similar. The translation of fedaykin that Herbert provides in Dune is "death commando"...which is a whole bucket of yikes in my opinion, but it's not entirely absurd if we're assuming that this fake word and the real word fedayeen function in the same way. A more literal translation of fedayeen is "self-sacrificer," as in willing, intentional self-sacrifice for a political cause, up to and including sacrificing your life.

If you apply this logic to Dune, it means that Villeneuve has actually shifted the meaning of this word in-universe, from fighters who are willing to sacrifice themselves for Paul to fighters who are willing to sacrifice themselves for their people. And the fedaykin are no longer a group created for Paul but a group that Paul counts himself as part of, one member among equals. Which is just WILDLY different from what's in the book. And so much better in my opinion.

[alastors-antlers]

a brief take on the whole "Alastor's smile is permanent" discussion

hello all!

I've seen a lot of people theorizing lately that Alastor actually smiles all the time because his smile is magically, physically fixed onto his face. All of this seems to come from the fact that he's practically grimacing rather than smiling during the scene where he breaks down in ep8:

As well as this frame of his deal with Charlie: (lower res sorry)

I will say, I do like some of the implications of this theory. The sheer spite of his creditor forcing him to smile as an addition to their deal, almost like a sort of forced silence, is a neat concept. It's fun and dramatic. Plus, of all things, of course Alastor would claim the "smile at all times" policy and make it his own to pretend that it was his decision all along lol.

To be fair, though, I don't think we even need any magical compulsion to explain why he's smiling while he's having a mental breakdown. Actually, if we assume magical compulsion, I think we lose a bit of dimension from Alastor's character. (No judgement to anyone's take though, of course -- I just think this works in the direction of his established characterization, but obviously all personal takes <3)

Hear me out:

Alastor's persona is not just for others to see.

"A smile is a valuable tool, my dear. It inspires your friends; keeps your enemies guessing; and ensures that whatever comes your way, you're the one in control."

That makes sense given what we know about him. If he's always smiling, he seems like he has it together. You can't read him very well, especially not when he's actively trying to keep up appearances.

Now consider that when you think about ep8's fight with Heaven, we see that he's already been through so much in this one day.

He fights an army of angels, presumably not even at his own whim (if we go by his blurb about freedom in the Finale song); he loses to Adam, who he considers sloppy and mediocre; his staff, which we can assume holds some part of his power, is snapped; he comes close to being Angelic-power-killed; and to top it all off, he knows that others watched him get injured and then apparently die or flee, all of which would ruin the public image that he's trying to maintain. It wouldn't even be unreasonable for us to assume that he knows Vox was watching, given that Vox kind of has eyes everywhere.

In a moment like this, in the finale, you could say that Alastor has lost (at least on some level) everything that we know matters to him. He doesn't have access to all of his magic, and it's limiting him. He's reminded that he doesn't have freedom or control over his own destiny. He certainly has taken massive hits to his powerful, composed persona. But he's desperate, and furious, and terrified, and clinging on.

That's why he's smiling.

It's not that he can't stop because he physically can't. It's that he can't stop because to him, the smile is the last thing that is still within his power. When there are so many moving parts that he can't predict what happens to him next, he can control how he responds to it. In these last fragments of autonomy, there is solace.

He needs to keep telling himself that he has it together and that he'll eventually scheme his way free, that there's a solution, that he won't be in chains forever; because letting his pretense slip would be admitting that it's all starting to actually get to him. That maybe this time, he doesn't have an escape plan.

In addition, if you read his interactions throughout the series, we also see something else: Alastor's reputation is of paramount importance to him. At multiple points throughout the series, when others disrespect him by discounting his power or presence, he gets visibly annoyed. And in the battle, we see a glimpse of the part of his personality he seems to be trying to leave behind - a normal Alastor, who's just some guy from Louisiana. No transatlantic accent; no unflappable malice; no sharp wit waiting at the ready. Maybe even unremarkable.

Dropping his smile - arguably the most prominent part of his brand - would be admitting that in reality, he's not the Radio Demon of legend that he aspires to project. And if he doesn't have that... where would he be?

[shanastoryteller]

I was one of the anons that didn’t know what to think when I first saw the Sam/Dean tag on See Something Say Something but now I’m like. You know what fuck it, you write it well. I look forward to every chapter and i apologize for being a hater

LOOOL you are forgiven we have all guzzled hatorade at some point

during my initial foray into supernatural (when i was watching the early seasons in real time) i didn't ship them at all until i read a crack fic as a joke

The incestuous courtship of the antichrist's bride by fleshflutter

summary: Sam is trying to become the Antichrist in order to save the world. He has a small army of angels and demons, he has an adoring cult, he has a work of prophecy by Jack Kerouac, and he has Dean. Things are going pretty well until he accidentally signs Dean up as his Beloved Consort, a role that requires sex with the Antichrist on an altar. And that's when things stop going pretty well. Also, the soundtrack to the Apocalypse sucks.

it has no business being as unbelievably good as it is, but also it was my first fleshflutter fic so i didn't know what i was getting myself into. it's one of my favorite fics in any fandom just because the balance of crack and horror and love and humor is so finely done that you just have to go damn. even if i hated everything about this fic i would still love it

but i was like, okay, just because this fic was good doesn't mean i really ship it. like what's wrong with just a freaky little codependent brotherly relationship? the ship mostly just exists because they're hot

then i read Stranger Than Fiction by nyxocity

summary: Meta-comedy/drama set immediately post-4x18, The Monster at the End of This Book. Dean can't stop wondering why people would write gay porn about him and Sam. Research takes him to interesting places; re-reading novels for subtext, visiting message boards, and a really freaky place called LiveJournal. What he discovers is a sick fascination with fanfiction, more about gay sex than he ever wanted to know, and an even deeper obsession with understanding why people write this stuff. Meanwhile, they're hunting a mysterious monster that takes the form of a person's truest love to kill them slowly, the lines between fanfiction and reality are starting to break down, and they still have to stop Lilith and save the world.

which reads like it's crack, which is probably why i clicked on it, and isn't really. not only did the author convince sam and dean, they also convinced me. i was like okay fine you make a compelling argument

and when supernatural sucked me in this time a decade later, i was once more like well! yeah wincest is fine but i really am just a sucker for a good fucked up brotherly relationship. no need to be a folgers commercial about it

then i read It's the Blueprint of Your Life by queenklu

summary: Sam jerks awake in the middle of the night and everything goes to hell. Well, not literally, though Dean is staring down the barrel of less than a year before his deal comes due. In the midst of dealing (or not dealing) with his impending death, a killer ghost ship, and Bela showing up out of the blue, Dean also has to figure out what’s going on in Sam’s head to make him so twitchy, why he’s suddenly breezing through this case while writing endless notes in a notebook he won’t let Dean see. Damn it, Dean thinks, This is gonna take a lot of chickflick moments.

which is not only one of my very favorite supernatural fics but the one that made me throw up my hands and go fine!! i ship it then!! are you happy now?

pleased and honored to be your gateway drug in these trying times <3

[matan4il]

To the Nonnie who asked me about the mass grave in Gaza, you're pretty close to the truth of it rather than the anti-Israel propaganda.

First of all, the mass grave next to the hospital in Gaza has been shown already to have been dug before Israel got there.

Now, it wasn't untouched by the Israeli army, but that is a result of two contributing factors, both of which linked to Hamas.

One is because of the bodies of terrorists, who were using the hospital, and were killed during the fighting. They had to be buried somewhere. This is the Nasser hospital, the biggest medical center which was still active in Gaza after the very biggest, the Shifa hospital, had to be raided twice, because Hamas terrorists returned and re-took it, after the IDF evacuated it to allow the place to function as normal. If during the second operation in the Shifa hospital, there were 200 terrorists killed there, and at least 900 more suspects arrested, of which at least 500 were confirmed terrorists as of the end of the operation on April 1, how many terrorists were fighting against the IDF from Nasser, the last big medical complex they could use, when we know the abuse of Gaza hospitals for murderous purposes by terrorists is systematic? (I'm not accepting any numbers claimed by "Gaza's health officials," where no terrorists are mentioned at all, because that's Hamas speaking) Where do people think all those terrorists went to, those who did not surrender? Do people think this is Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and if you stake a villain through the heart, then their body just goes "poof" into thin air, and there's no need to bury it?

The second factor is that Israel did exhume corpses that had been previously buried on the Nasser hospital grounds, to test them for DNA, in case they were what was left of murdered Israeli hostages, still held captive.

This has been done for a while, before this mass grave by the Nasser hospital started making the social media "headlines," so no one can claim this is an excuse made up now, because of this, and in fact, several bodies of Israeli hostages were returned to Israel thanks to the IDF's work, and the first one that comes to mind is that of 19 years old Noa Marziano, because her body was exhumed from the Shifa hospital grounds. She was held hostage in an apartment near the hospital, then moved into Shifa itself, and murdered in its basement. So yeah, guess where they buried her... Together with Noa, Yehudit Weiss' body was also recovered from the Shifa hospital grounds, and returned to her family in Israel.

If people don't like that the Israeli army has had to check bodies buried on hospital grounds for DNA, and then re-bury them together in a mass grave in the same place, then they should take it up with Hamas for murdering people on hospital grounds and for holding corpses as hostages in the first place. We're all living in the twisted reality created by Hamas.

And you know how we can tell that this part, about the bodies being exhumed to check for DNA isn't made up? Because we have regular Palestinians themselves admitting the bodies they're currently looking for in the mass grave are of their loved ones who were already dead by the time Israel got there.

Just to summarize this lunacy, we are being accused of massacring terrorists (who are legitimate targets, killing them was not a massacre, even if we were really successful at it) and already dead people. Make it make sense.

As for the added accusations that Israel skinned the Gazans and stole their organs... The anti-Israel crowd literally claims Israel stole organs in Haiti, when all we did was to send our military emergency medical staff to set up a field hospital there (to help the victims of the earthquake in 2010), and these lies are currently being repeated in print by The Palestine Telegraph (which is based in Gaza. You know, the place where nothing is published if it goes against Hamas interests). If that act of kindness and help could be turned into something sinister and monstrous just because the Jewish state was involved, it's almost a given the same would happen when Israel is at present dragged against its will into a defensive war. It's a recycling of the age old antisemitic blood libels, portraying the Jews as bloodthirsty and capable of any monstrosity. It's antisemitism, pure and simple. THAT is why the Jewish state has to be "comically evil in every way imaginable," like you said. Remember how for centuries in Europe, the 'bloodthirsty Jew' trope served to lie that we kill Christians to use their blood when baking our Passover matzahs? The following cartoon isn't from the Middle Ages, it's from 2018, and depicts Gazans, not European Christians (see the tire in one Palestinian man's hand? In Hamas-organized violent riots that aimed to breach Israel's border in 2018, as they succeeded in doing on Oct 7, many participants burned tires to create a screen of black smoke that would impair IDF soldiers' vision):

Meanwhile, the Islamist terrorist organization and Hamas' buddy, Hezbollah (which has been intentionally firing at civilian communities in northern Israel for months), has killed yet another Israeli civilian overnight, Sharif Suad, an Israeli Arab Muslim Bedouin. Watch the anti-Israel crowd ignore his murder, just like they erase all Israeli civilians victimized. Arab deaths don't count if they can't be used against the Jewish state.

I hope this helped! Take care. xoxox

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

[crappymixtape]

because of you • part three

PART I • PART II • PART IV • PART V • EPILOGUE // REQ -> @sattlersquarry ❝ an enemies to lovers fic with Steve? 💙 maybe they have to put aside their differences to fight upside down stuff and realize they actually have a lot in common 👀 • 18+ | ( 3.1k – little bit of king!steve, mostly angst with a dash of fluff, enemies to idiots in love, steve x reader )

B E C A U S E O F Y O U •  P A R T T H R E E 🎶 thick skull ( re: julien baker ), paramore ft. julien baker

❝ GOOD GIRLS DON’T CRY & GOOD GIRLS DON’T LIE & GOOD GIRLS JUSTIFY BUT I DON’T ❞

“Think she’s okay?”

“Shh!”

“What? No way she can hear us back here.”

“Dustin, ‘back here’ is literally a seat behind her.”

Sat quietly at a table seat in the Winnebago, Eddie looking on worriedly across from you, you were still grappling with the fact that you were alive. That you didn’t die. That you were breathing fresh air and free from the dark and free from Him.

For now.

And as the RV bumped down the road out of Hawkins you said nothing. Felt Steve’s eyes on you constantly as he glanced at you in the rearview. Eddie’s hand still holding tight to yours after he helped you up, afraid to lose you again. Dustin and Lucas and Max all talking in not-so-hushed voices behind you about what it all meant and if El could get back in time and was this all gonna be enough?

Voice thick and choked by the sobs that had felt endless, you’d managed to tell everyone what Vecna had showed you. Told them about Hawkins, about the monsters, about your family, about them. Eddie, Robin, Nancy Steve. And no one had said anything at first. The sounds of your cries filling up the RV. Stark against the silence and heavy with the weight of your words and they knew before you’d even opened your mouth that it was going to be bad.

Of course they knew.

But now that Vecna had revealed his master plan, the efforts you were all making just felt hopeless. The munitions stuffed under the bench seats and closets and cabinets, all puny and worthless against Vecna and his army of nightmares.

A big bump in the road brought you out of your thoughts and when you glanced up your eyes met Steve’s as he snuck another look in the rear view. And instead of glaring, instead of flipping him the bird, you looked right back. Held his gaze for moment longer and he didn’t shy away until he came up on a turn-off.

“Alright, shitheads. We’re here.”

“Here?” Lucas asked, more than confused at the thick forest Steve was now driving you all through.

“Yeah, this is it.”

And as the trees slowly thinned out, thick grass and wildflower blooms took their place. Creeping out ahead of you to reveal a meadow, wide and green and lush. A haven that felt so very far away, felt safe, and as Steve parked and the engine quieted you let out the breath you’d been holding.

❝ MAYBE IF YOU JUST GOT SOME GUTS WE���D KILL ‘EM WITH A THOUSAND CUTS AND SAY WE DID IT OUT OF LOVE ❞

Everyone piled out of the RV and got after their tasks. Pretended like preparing for the end of the world was totally normal and routine. Nancy and Robin sawing off the end of a shotgun. Lucas and Erica attempting to make spears from tactical knives and broom handles. Eddie and Dustin shoving each other around in the grass with their garbage can lids full of nails at their feet and none of it instilled you with confidence, but Dustin screaming No wedgies! did manage to pull a little smile out of you.

And for a split second it felt okay.

Laughter, the sound of birds, the feeling of the wind on your bare skin and all the green around you – so unlike the cracked and bitter feeling in the Upside Down and then your smile fell.

You wished He hadn’t shown you.

Wished Vecna had just left you alone. Wished for just a moment that you hadn’t gone to Max’s trailer and put yourself in the middle of all this, but then Eddie grabbed Dustin in a big bear hug and your chest squeezed.

Your best friend.

The reason why you had gone to Max’s trailer.

The reason why you weren’t going to run.

The reason this was all worth it.

“Ah, shit.”

Sat next to you, Steve sucked in a breath through gritted teeth. The funnel in your hands slipping as you lost focus and liquid trickled down your hands and wrists.

“Hold it still,” Steve quickly tipped back his can of kerosene and set it down to grab a piece of ripped towel.

A string of curses were muttered under your breath, so much for homemade molotov cocktails.

Cheeks burning with embarrassment you went to wipe your hands on your sweater, but when you looked back up at Steve he was looking too. Eyes searching yours, unsure and tentative. Moles dotting along his cheeks and jaw like tiny constellations. Skin gold like it held summer and when you blinked away the haze of him, you realized he was reaching out to you.

“Here, get that off so it doesn’t burn,” he said a little softer. Cloth in one hand, he took yours in the other and wiped at the kerosene.

Oh, fell from your lips. Surprised. Unsure. Your skin buzzing where he touched you and you swallowed thick as you felt your pulse flutter against your neck.

“Uh–here, you can get the rest,” Steve said quickly, like he’d felt it too and hastily passed the cloth off to you, dropping your hand to wipe his on his jeans.

“Thanks,” you mumbled back.

It was quiet for a moment as he cleared his throat and picked up his can of kerosene again. You followed suit and grabbed your empty vodka bottle and funnel. Wordlessly he leaned over to hold your hand in his and once it was steady began pouring again, eyes flicking over to look at you.

“I’m an asshole,” he suddenly admitted, breaking the silence, and you had to focus really hard to not fumble the bottle again.

“I didn’t say it,” you started and he chuckled under his breath. A low, warm thing that made the air around you fizzle and crack like bonfires down at the quarry.

“Didn’t say you did,” he gently pushed back, lips still tugged up into a small, wry smile, but it faded the longer he looked at you. “Listen. I know we aren’t…well, I know I don’t have a great track record,” he said and the change in his tone surprised you. Told you he was serious and you had to look away to try to gather yourself back up again.

"No, really?" you said, all sarcasm, and he huffed another laugh.

“Hah hah,” he joked, weakly at first, and then his expression shifted more serious. “I just wanted to say that…well, that you have every right to be here it’s just–” the boy hummed around his words. Dropped his gaze down to where your hands met on the kerosene filled vodka bottle and put the can on the ground.

Talking to you like this, showing weakness and vulnerability, made him feel so exposed. Uncomfortable. Unable to find the right words and his tongue jammed into his cheek as he tried to decide just how honest he wanted to be.

With you.

“It’s just–everything about the Upside Down wants to kill you and it’s like–” he sighed heavy and carded a hand through his already messy hair. “I dunno. How many more people have to die? You know?” and then he was looking at you again. Really looking, really asking, and for a second it made you doubt everything you felt about him.

Jock. Asshole. King Steve.

No second chances, remember?

“Can I ask you something?” you heard yourself say and you could feel the muddled mixture of nerves and frustration and anticipation buzzing under your skin. Everything you’d been holding onto all this time pent up and pushing against the wall you’d built around it. Waiting waiting waiting for you to set it loose.

“Oh–sure, yeah.”

“Why are you really here?”

Steve’s eyes grew wide and he sat back on his milk crate, hands squeezing at the tops of his thighs.

“Why am I here?”

“Yeah. Do you really care about Eddie?”

Steve’s eyes darted back over to where Eddie and Dustin were hammering more nails into their garbage can lids and maybe you were impatient or maybe Steve was stalling, but you didn’t want to wait.

“Cos you didn’t care about him before.”

“B-before? I don’t–what d'you mean–”

Steve was stumbling over himself now, struggling to own the words you put on him and frustration grew warm in your chest, but you tried hard to swallow it down. Tried hard to let him prove Eddie’s theory of change.

“High school, Harrington,” you started, trying to keep your tone even and calm. “Yelled at us in the quad? Tossed people’s books in the hallway? Threw fries at us in the cafeteria.” You paused, debated whether or not you wanted to tack more on, and then you thought of Tommy and it came out all on its own, “Let your friends say really shitty things to me.”

Steve’s gaze dropped down to his feet and he didn’t say anything at first, not a word, and you kicked yourself for even bothering to think he’d be able to handle it. Of course he couldn’t.

“You know what–nevermind,” you mumbled, capping your bottle and moving to stand, but his hand grabbed yours and pulled you back down onto your milk crate.

“Wait. Please?”

And the way he was looking at you was pained, the pinch between his brows deep, and it made you pause. Was Eddie right? The way Steve cared for these kids, for your best friend, showed clearly something had shifted in him, but was it enough?

“Wait for what, Harrington? So you can show me things are different now?” your voice was softer, but hurt, “Because Eddie swears you’ve changed, but you still sound just like Tommy.”

The mention of his ex-best friend felt like getting the wind knocked out of him. He knew Tommy was wrong now. Hell, he knew it back then too. Knew how fucked up it'd been in the parking lot at the school, but he hadn’t had the guts to say anything. Couldn’t stand up to him or tell him off because he ‘had a reputation to uphold’ and what would everyone else say if he went ‘soft on a freak’?

“I–I know. I fucked up. I get it and I don’t know how I can prove it to you, but–” he started truthfully, hand still holding yours, thumb shifting softly against your palm, “–but I am. Really sorry.”

Really sorry.

Finally. After all those years. After everything he’d said and done, but sorry didn’t fix it. Or take any of it back. Was it too late?

Reluctantly you pulled your hand away from Steve’s, his fingers flexing as they fell away from yours, wanting to hold on just a little bit longer but you weren’t ready.

“You know that doesn’t fix it, right?” you said quietly, glancing up at Steve through the long sweep of your lashes and guilt settled heavy over him.

He knew it didn’t fix it. Knew all too well that words didn’t mean shit, but he would be the first to admit he was a slow learner. Crawl before you walk. Hit your head and maybe something will suddenly make sense and when it came to you? Vecna had been like a sucker punch.

You were strong-willed. Didn’t take shit lying down. Were fiercely loyal to your best friend and just wanted to try to help and it had taken Steve a minute to realize – in your eyes he was still bullshit, but he didn’t want to be. It wasn’t going to be easy, not in the least, but just like you he wanted to try.

“I know it doesn’t fix it.”

His eyes squeezed shut so he didn’t have to look at you. Tried to make it easier on himself as he pushed through the discomfort of taking responsibility for his actions. Tongue running along his bottom lip, just like it always did when his brain was working overtime, he finally looked back up at you.

“I’m not asking you for forgiveness or–or to be my friend or anything. I just want you know I really am sorry. For all of it. Okay?”

Sitting there so close to him, your hands inches away from touching, holding each other’s gaze as you listened to the words falling from his lips in sincerity – it was almost too much. The wall you’d built around yourself cracking and straining against this new feeling that had settled in your chest, but the words wouldn’t come to you as your lips parted and you tried and pull yourself together but–

“Dammit, Eddie, no wedgies!”

Dustin’s voice cut through the silence that had settled and Steve reflexively sat up. Pushed himself away from whatever it was you’d waded into together. Away from sorry and the feeling of your hands pressed together and the look you gave him through the long sweep of your lashes and the way you made his heart race. Turned away from you and played it off.

“Hey! Less dicking around, more putting shit together!” he yelled at Dustin and Eddie flipped him off without looking.

“Like you’re doing anything important, big boy!” Eddie hollered back and the way it made Steve’s cheeks grow pink made your lips twitch with a smile you had to work hard to hold back.

“Shut up,” Steve muttered at Eddie, but mostly to himself, and stood from his milk crate to put your filled vodka bottle into the box with the rest.

You watched quietly as he placed the last bottle in and folded the cardboard shut. Muscles tensing and pulling taut as he worked, moving against the fabric of his shirt and you quickly looked away for fear of being caught.

Then your eye caught his nail covered bat tipped against side of the Winnebago and the threat of the Upside Down and all its nasties wrapped around you tight like a vice.

Oh.

Right.

The end of the world.

Just a few yards away Nancy pulled the trigger on her shotgun, the sound making you flinch, and it hit you like a ton of bricks – you had absolutely no clue how to defend yourself against this. Against Him. Against an army from hell. You knew how to throw a punch and knee someone in the crotch and you’d always had an arm on you from playing volleyball, but none of that had anything to do with monsters. Or guns. Or nail covered bats.

“Uhm–” came out mumbled, more sound than word, and it pulled Steve’s attention up from the box.

“What’s that?”

“Can you–er–would you maybe show me how to swing that?” you asked and it made him turn to face you, giving you his full attention.

“What?”

Your cheeks grew hot.

“That bat,” you said shifting uncomfortably on your crate, “I don’t think–I can't shoot a gun.”

Steve’s expression softened as he remembered what it'd felt like the first time he saw a demogorgon. The first time he swung that very bat into the side of a demodog. The first time this world had been exposed to him and he knew how overwhelming and absolutely crazy it all felt.

Grabbing the bat in his hand he gave you a small smile and took the few steps back over to you.

“Sure. It’s not too hard. You know, just aim and swing.”

“Just aim and swing?” your tone was flat, all skeptics, a defensive move against his kindness and it made him chuckle.

“Well, there’s probably more to it than that, but those stupid bats are thick enough when they swarm it’d be hard for anyone to miss.”

Your eyes grew wide at the thought of swarming bats and it made him laugh again, a half-grimace pulling at his features.

“Shit, sorry. Uh–here,” readjusting his grip he bent his knees a bit and dug his heel into the ground. “Just make sure you get a wide stance, yeah? Like, hip width apart? And don’t be afraid to choke up on your hold. It’ll make your swings hit harder.”

He swung the bat and the sound it made as it cut through the air made your breath catch in your throat.

“Wanna try?” the boy held the crude weapon out to you and you swallowed thick. Stood up from your own milk crate and tentatively took it from him.

It was heavy in your hands, heavier than you thought it’d be, but smooth. You did as he said and slid your hands up a little further on the handle and tried a swing, but threw yourself off balance and stumbled forward.

“Ah, that’s okay. Here, uh–” Steve stepped in behind you and placed his hands over yours on the bat, “–try again, but follow through with your hip. Your grip’s good, just don’t throw your full weight forward.”

The warmth of his chest on your back made your cheeks burn again. Made your heart race. Hammering against your ribcage as he slowly took you through the motion again.

“Then when you get to the end of the swing, follow with your hip," his voice was much quieter over your shoulder, words falling into your ear and making you dizzy as he tried so damn hard to keep his focus. Placed a hand on your waist to guide it and toed your foot forward with his shoe as he took a step. “See?”

“Yeah,” was all you could manage, the feeling of his breath on your neck trailing goosebumps across your skin and you couldn’t help it. Couldn’t help the way the closeness of him pulled your gaze and when you looked up he was looking too.

“Does that–uh–did that make sense?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper and you nodded. A small thing that barely registered and he was so close now. Close enough his nose nearly brushed your cheek, getting closer by the second and–

“Harrington! Where are those bottles? I gotta get ‘em loaded up!” Eddie yelled from the other side of the RV and the space between you shattered. Both of you stepping away as though you’d touched a hot stove and you pressed the bat into Steve’s hands.

“Should probably get ready,” you muttered and he nodded, cleared his throat and took two big steps back to set the bat down.

“Coming!” Steve called back as he scooped up the box of molotov cocktails, bottles clinking against each other as he walked away and disappeared around the corner of the RV.

King Steve turned Steve Harrington.

Steve Harrington turned something else.

Something more.

Something you thought you’d written off.

Something that held you so tightly now it made you want to run, but at the back of your mind, somewhere soft and warm, you couldn’t help wondering what might happen if you didn’t.

[ NOTE: THIS IS PART THREE OF A – POSSIBLY – FIVE PART SERIES, PART FOUR AND FIVE TO COME SOON ]

crappymixtape™ • steve harrington masterlist // stranger things masterlist♥️ reblogs and comments keep me going, friends! ily! ♥️

[inky125]

Mary Linton and Jack Marston meeting in 1922

Okay but these are just my headcanons for the very improbable scenario that they end up bumping into each other in the future. / My headcanons for what they would do with their lives after the events of rdr/rdr2

(I'm going to explain them under the cut)

Okay so, starting with Jack:

I want to believe Jack lived a more or less normal life after killing Ross, successfully getting away with this one (1) murder, and having that as a skeleton in his closet. Not finding peace really, so the whole revenge thing doesn't fix his miserable life but he can go on to try to do something with his life. Gunslinging doesn't really have a place anymore here.

When the US joined WWI I know that boy DID NOT join the US Army, he would NEVER join the group that killed his dad, or make the same mistake as him and make a deal with the government. He would rather be jailed for dodging the draft, what will they do, threaten him with what? He has nothing to live for really, so they can't make him. I don't think he cares much if he gets shot (he has a like saying as much in rdr when he duels Ross).

After the whole jail thing he'd go back to a more or less normal life, I'd guess he would have to have a regular job and write whenever he's able (I want to believe that one Easter egg in GTA is canon...it is to me...), but I don't think he'd be able to make a living just from writing.

As for Mary, I always wondered why Mary was dressed the way she was during the credits cut scene in Rdr2. Because I'm guessing it takes place in 1907 (given that most cut scenes appear to happen at the same time more or less than the epilogue). But I wondered why Mary was dressing in black; I mean, during the Victorian era there were very specific mourning traditions, especially for women. Wearing black was pretty much a part of a social thing, you'd publicly mourn. The extension of your mourning would depend on who died and what was your relationship with them.

And here is the thing, Arthur had died 8 years ago by then, we could assume Mary had found out shortly after of his dead because newspapers in the Rdr2 universe love to brag whenever law enforcement/Pinkertons kill renown outlaws. (Even Arthur and Hosea get mentioned years later in some sort of article in 1907 too). And additionally, we know that Mary kept up with how the gang, especially Arthur, was doing through the news on the newspapers. So again, it wouldn't be crazy to assume she knew about Arthur's death back in 1899.

So then, why is she wearing a black dress to visit his grave in 1907?. Black is the color of mourning, but as far as I am aware (and correct me if I'm wrong) it was not required to visit a grave back in the day. So I like to headcanon Mary mourning Arthur like a widow, because widows would have to wear their black weeds for 2 years (there were different periods of mourning, for instance Mary's clothes could be classified under the 'half-mourning' type, meaning there has been at least 6 months since her loved one passed away, meaning she could now wear some jewelry, other colours, ect.

But here is a little extra, Queen Victoria popularized among some women the practice to never abandon their period of half mourning, and especially, keep wearing black the rest of their lives even if they move on, as a sign of love for their dead husband.

Mary and Arthur never got married, but I like to think Mary lived as a widow for him. Continuing with her life as normal, of course, but always having that bittersweet ache in her heart, dressing in black out of respect and love for him and the life they couldn't have. Even if she had wanted to move on from him after she realized they couldn't be together as Arthur wouldn't leave the gang, I think she would have folded if Arthur had gone after her (I mean she did re-initiate contact after they were supposed to never speak again), and I think she was still preparing herself emotionally when she heard the news that Arthur was dead, ironically not moving on from him.

She didn't remarry, Jamie made good money and maintained her, Mary knew the kind of life she didn't want and she could be respectable and old as a widow. Plus marrying someone new at her age would be a titanic task.

I think Mary kept her mother's brooch Arthur returned for her as her reminder of him, given that she returned the picture and the ring. In fact she's wearing it when she visits Arthur's grave in-game!. So I kept that

It just warms my heart to think of the very few people left who knew about the gang finding each other in usual ways. Maybe next time I'd do Sadie or Charles. I'm just a sucker for this kind of things

[felassan]

Some things in BioWare's transcript of the August 30th dev Discord Q&A are a lil different to what was actually said in the Q&A. not only editing to tidy up and be concise etc; some of it seems to actually be new/additional (or updated?) information. this post is just a quick summary of the new or different things I noticed when comparing the BioWare transcript to a word-for-word transcript (or at least the ones that stood out to me anyways). DA:TV spoilers under cut.

This post is a mix of new snippets and rephrased answers to things that were rephrased in a way that stuck out to me or interested me. nb, it doesn't highlight changes if the change was something not being included in the BioWare transcript (there was some of that too).

John Epler: "I don't know if any of [the Evanuris] consider [tea] a favorite beverage"

[re: hugging Assan] Assan "always appreciates the attention. He's got a sharp beak and he'd let you know if he didn't."

Variation of the WEWH question answer:

"There's always going to be politics to some degree - there are a number of different groups with different priorities, and not all of them are going to be immediately disposed towards trusting you. But while the Inquisitor had an organization and an army (and even Hawke and the Hero of Ferelden spent more time moving in political circles), Rook's situation is a little more desperate and immediate. Their approach is therefore a little more direct, and so while they may occasionally find themselves in the political sphere, they're not trying to assemble an army or build consensus amongst nation states."

[on companions' ages] The part of this where they described the companions' age range has been changed from where it said "early-mid twenties" to just say "mid twenties". Also, Taash was said to be "early twenties"; she is now simply "the youngest".

New sentence on the ages: "We don't usually nail down a specific age, unless it's something that comes up in their content, but we want to have an idea as to their general age range as we're writing them."

If no side characters stand out as a good candidate for a 'light' romance, this is never something they want to force

Griffons as half-bird half-lion - it now reads half-eagle half-lion

"Thedas has always been filled with extraordinary people, and in DATV you're trying to save the world. It stands to reason that the people you're bringing on board are going to be people with extraordinary circumstances of their own."

On the Veil not being in great shape and having been deteriorating in recent times/the intervening period between games, a more specific figure is given: "things in general have been slowly getting worse over the past decade and a half"

Lucanis and Bellara find out they have a lot in common and develop a "really fun" friendship, even though "it's hard to think of two companions who feel more different on the surface"

Neve and Bellara's friendship "kind of evolved organically as we were writing them, and finding out all the opportunities we could to throw little tastes of it into dialogue was a blast"

when enemies are slowed due to Slow Time, Rook stays moving at full speed

Rook's weapons and companions' gear can also be transmogged in addition to Rook's armor gear and casualwear

New sentence: "I've built Harding as a Support Character one run, and a DPS the next run. If you want to use Davrin as a DPS, you can do that."

"But each Companion has a gift that you can purchase from vendors in the world, and then give it to them." - it sounds like there is only one unique gift that you can give to the companions each?

"In general, something like a short story anthology is a volunteer thing - we ask people what they want to write and, generally, people tend to gravitate towards character ideas and concepts they already had in mind for a companion."

"So it's rare that we write a character that isn't intended to be a companion and then think 'oh wow this character would be a great fit', but it's not unheard of either."

"Ultimately we wanted to be sure that The Veilguard could be a good entry point to Dragon Age for new players and people who know almost nothing about the universe. But if you're the kind of player who wants to catch the most references, I'd suggest reading The Missing (most recent comic series) and Tevinter Nights. The former is a direct narrative setup for the beginning of the game" while Tevinter Nights is "less of a direct narrative tie", though it introduces "characters, concepts and story elements" that show up in the game

New sentence and info: [John Epler] "The Archon's Palace floating was something we came up with midway through writing Tevinter Nights and I had to furiously rewrite a few things." - the Floating Building is the Archon's Palace?

"Mae is a character that means a lot to so many DA fans" (<3)

Crow politics are now described as "complex" as well as deadly

"Some romances allow you to express interest without 'committing'" - so it sounds like not all of them allow this? - "but all romances eventually end up being exclusive"

"With each specialization we wanted to explore, both visually and through gameplay, what a specific class member of that faction might look like. Spellblade, for example, is our answer to the question 'what does a mage assassin look like'."

Our ability to save PCs so we don't have to start from scratch in CC each time was very important to the devs

"the feeling we want to evoke over the course of the game is one of growth, both in yourself as Rook and in your companions as they overcome their own problems with your help. These problems are often external in nature, but they are always tied, at their core, to the conflict that the character carries within them. And they are, also, always uniquely Dragon Age problems on the surface, but still relatable."

The difference in the answer to the is Lucanis possessed question interested me.

Original for the sake of comparison:

"So, again, spoilers, everyone has been warned, fairly warned. So Lucanis Dellamorte is also known as The Demon of Vyrantium. And, he has spent a lot of time killing Venatori, who are mages, and who do know a lot about demons, so. Yeah, somebody decided that it might be a good idea to make that nickname stick."

New:

"There's definitely something going on with Lucanis - and before you hired him, he was known as the Demon of Vyrantium. Might be that someone took offense to that nickname, especially since he earned it by killing Venatori."

New sentence in the answer to the is Thedas a southern continent question:

"Of course, nothing says that distance to the sun is the only factor impacting weather."

.. [probably reading too much into this don't look at me ik many factors influence weather irl hhh] magic? the Veil? the deteriorating Veil? the risen Gods? the Blight? Thedas is experiencing global warming? :D

"As part of our attempt to make the companions feel like they have their own lives outside of just Rook, we asked ourselves what pairings made the most narrative sense and then talked about how they might actually unfold in the game. And even before companions get together, you can see that interest starts to develop. Which is, I think, one of my favorite things about the companions. They don't just fall in love with each other, they become friends, confidents, and even rivals at times"

It takes Davrin a while to trust others. He can be a little standoffish, but eventually he warms up to anyone who shows that they have his back

As a monster hunter a lot of Davrin's hobbies revolve around that

"a lot of elves go around shoeless, and that's in part because they believe it brings them closer to nature. What better way to understand what the world and ground are saying than to walk directly on it? but not every Dalish follows this custom" [...] "The Veil Jumpers, in general, are a little more likely to wear boots and shoes, as they're far more likely to end up in dangerous places and fighting unsettling creatures than the average Dalish"

On Bellara's boots: "you never know when you're going to find a broken artifact with a lot of sharp edges."

Bellara is a big fan of pan-frying anything she can (re: food)

Lucanis has the refined palate of an Antivan Crow

Getting the beards to work with all the armor variations that they have was especially challenging with dwarves because they "tend to be" shorter

Those beards that were designed with dwarves in mind can alsobe used for humans and qunari (I wonder then if elves cannot have beards in CC? Like I know they usually don't have them or have it in CC and that lore says they don't but there are a also a few lorebreaking instances of it and I wasn't sure which way this one would go given how 'free choice/options for all' the CC in this game has sounded like it has been designed to be)

"You'll see more on this as we showcase character creator in our runup to launch"

For this question "Since you can choose to be a part of the same faction for most of the companions, will that give you an advantage when trying to befriend them?", the answer now reads that in addition to the unique dialogue same-background Rooks have with the companion of that background, it can also "change the timbre of your relationship a little bit"

John Epler: "one of my favorite things about this group of companions is how much time they spend with each other"

[on the companions] "They're a family, and like a family, they don't always get along"

"A lot of Solas' relationship with the player is personal. He sees a lot of himself in Rook - both the good and the bad - and largely talks only to you, as you're the one he has a connection with."

"Not to mention at least a couple of followers who would likely love to ask an ancient Elven god some questions."

"a common complaint we've heard in past games is that many players disliked always feeling like they needed a Rogue to be able to lockpick, so fortunately Rook finds a method to use these exploration abilities even when the associated Companion is not in your party"

An example of a companion's unique exploration ability is that Emmrich has an ability to briefly reanimate skeletons to open gates

Qunari not wearing helmets and only vitaar allows more flexibility when it comes to horns customization in CC

"yes - there will be some pretty obvious Act breaks. Not all content fits neatly into these buckets, as it's more a way of breaking up the critical path (companion and other side content follows a different cadence), but there are some pretty obvious Acts built into our game. A lot of the missions, though, we want to make sure players have the freedom to decide what they do and when they do it, so while they may have internal acts (follower missions form their own arcs), they don't conform to the overall main quest arcs"

The difference in the answer to the is Assan the only griffon question confirms that Assan was specifically one of the baby griffons that hatched at the end of Last Flight. (as opposed to another clutch that was laid in the last decade)

Old:

"So, again, just to be clear, spoilers, but yeah, Assan has brothers and sisters, so Assan is not the only griffon that shows up in Dragon Age The Veilguard."

New:

"If you read Last Flight, you'll know that Assan isn't the only griffon from that clutch of eggs, so he's got brothers and sisters. And if one griffon is good, a whole family of them is better, right?"

"We briefly experimented with other options for last names but it became unwieldy as we do refer to your Rook by their last name on several occasions, and accounting for 6 potential last names is already a lot of complexity."

Variation of the 'what goes into bringing back old characters' question answer:

"We always - both for Morrigan and any other characters we bring back - think about what they would've been up to since the last time anyone saw them. These characters should feel like real people, and the last thing we want to imply is that their stories stalled out while they weren't directly in the player's adventuring party. So we look at their arc before the time skip, and then think about where that arc would've taken them. In the case of Morrigan, she's coming to terms with a lot of truths about herself and about her mother. There are elements of her past that she's come to terms with, which is why she wears a version of Flemeth's crown. Ultimately you want the world to feel like it's real. And no one's the same person today that they were 10 years ago. That's stagnation, and it's bad in fictional characters as it is in real people."

The orb part of orb and dagger is called an Elemental Orb

Variation on the Dalish Elf vs City Elf question answer:

"While I think 'city elf' vs 'Dalish elf' is a useful distinction in the South, there's a lot more nuance in the North. Rivain, for example, has Dalish settlements intertwined with other cities. There's just not the same separation, so each of the factions has a unique approach to your lineage. You can define some of that further with choices you make in conversations - we really wanted to leave a lot of that open to players to RP."

[localization question answer variation] "Games are so complex and have so many moving pieces that you need to be in regular communication or things get missed. And a lot of that is because ultimately localization is more than just a straightforward translation. Jokes, metaphors, sayings - even specific lore terms - aren't just a matter of finding the equivalent word in another language. Every writer has a story about a time they had to explain the specifics of an off-color joke they wrote so that localization could properly capture the intent."

So mostly variations (as in rephrasing) and things, but some of the new info that particularly stood out to me was things like the description of Emmrich's exploration ability, the mention that the Floating Building is the Archon's Palace (iirc this was speculated before but not confirmed?), the new lil details or insights on Assan and Davrin, the bit about Assan being from the Last Flight eggs, etc.

[vi-arcanes-left-biceps]

Spoilers for Arcane S2 Finale❗❗

So, i keep thinking about Arcane's last pieces of dialogue and though they sounded kinda funny when I watched the end at the first time (in a 'really? This took 27h to write?' way), the more I think about it, the more I like it.

I think it has a ton of layers to interpret and I'm still missing a few of them.

Please forgive my multiple tangents while I try to gather my thoughts.

First, how Caitlyn finds Vi: no bandages, a glass of alcohol in her hands.

No bandages means many things for Vi: she's vulnerable -both because of what she's going through and beacuse she can allow herself to be vulnerable for the first time in the show, with Caitlyn-, and her fight is over, she doesn't have to fight anymore (Re: Ep7 Powder saying Vi fights because she's scared of losing everyone, and she has lost everyone). (Everyone but Ekko and Caitlyn, who have repeatedly proven they can fend for themselves and are leaders on their own right, I'd love to say Vi is in a point where she's able not to feel responsible for them too, though this is something I'm not so sure about). Bandages were also an important part of her character design, of herself, so this gives a sensation that she's lost a part of her identity too. Who is she, if not the big sister, the protector, the brawler?

Alcohol is another small details that just says she's not okay. We've seen her drink herself senseless for, presumably, months, in Act II, to cope with all that happened in S1 and particularly S2 Act I: accepting the loss of her sister after the attack on the council, becoming an enforcer even though she was completely against it because she still feels responsible for ending Jinx, recognising her sister again for just a glimpse and gaining faith that Powder is still there (with the realisation that she almost killed her sister -not the monster she convinced herself jinx was, her sister) falling in love with Cait and seeing her become a completely different person out of grief.... So after everything that just happened in Act III, where she saw that many people die, either strangers or friends, and where she lost her sister and father AGAIN, of course she's considering getting back to drinking. So much happened to her in the span of few months that she's considering drowning the pain away again.

Caitlyn's question: "Are you still in this fight, Violet?"

The line delivery is incredibly soft and intimate, and Cait calling her Violet is the cherry on top. She's knows Vi is not okay. She's knows she's going through a lot right now.

Caitlyn's question seeing this is really, at least, three questions:

First and clearest is a check-in: "How are you?" "Will you be okay?" "Do you want to talk about this?"

Second is "Are you staying?" Vi could leave to be alone as she did at the beginning of Act II, could go with Ekko to Zaun... I can also see an "Are you staying with me?" After everything that happens, after the little time that they've had to be together and to solve the many things between them, her asking "Are you still in this fight" can mean both "hey, are you holding up" and "Are we still together in this?"

Third would be "So, are you up to face this, solving things between Piltover and Zaun?". I know some people have criticized the lack of resolution in the Zaun/Piltover conflict. I'd argue, as much as I'd love for the class conflict to be expanded, it is not the core of the series, and both the writers and the characters know that a conflict like this cannot be solved in such little time. The series was not going to solve it. What it does is solve it's main plot and character arcs, and leave a space for this theme to have the start of a resolution. Piltover an Zaun joined against Ambessa's army, and the ending gives us a glimpse of the will to change the relationship between topside and bottom (e.g. having Zaunites in the council). It's not a perfect ending nor it is a resolution for Zaun's class struggle -I'm pretty sure that was never the intent, though I would have liked for both cities' relationship to be more comented upon in this season-, it's the opportunity to advance towards a resolution. So Cait is asking Vi if she is willing to deal with that too. "Are you still in this fight?" can also have an implication to mean fighting to make things better. This also means fighting for them to be together.

Then, Vi's answer: "I am the dirt underneath your fingernails, Cupcake. Nothing's gonna clean me out".

Now, I like this because it sums up to Vi saying "I'm not going anywhere" but the line itself and the delivery gives it a few more layers of meaning.

First of all, Vi is clearly not okay. She's very emotionaly scarred and considering an unhealthy coping mechanism. She looks incredibly sad. And she's deflecting with humour to the question because she's probably not ready to talk about it. So her delivery here, plus the strange joke/comparison and calling Caitlyn "Cupcake" (which she's only done when she's teasing her in a flirty or funny way or deflecting the conversation by doing so) is telling Caitlyn that she's not okay right now, but that she isn't going to leave. "

I interpret "Nothing's gonna clean me out" as her basically saying "I'm tough, I'll get through this" to Caitlyn's "How are you?" and saying "You're not getting rid of me" to Caitlyn's "Are you going to stay?"

Furthermore, calling herself "The dirt underneath your fingernails" has an obvious implication about her being a Zaunite and Caitlyn being from Pilotover. I've seen some people saying this is insulting to Vi's character and to Zaun's storyline.... I don't think so at all. Yeah, I can get to see a layer of self-depreciating humor, but for me this is Vi using her humour as well to reinforce herself and her identity as a Zaunite (which arguably she left aside/lost sight of during Act I) while also teasing Caitlyn for being a topsider. I like to interpret this as Vi saying "Yeah, Piltie, I'm sticking with you and I will keep bothering you". The tone and calling Cait "Cupcake" reinforces this as a tease as well. Reinstating her identity as a Zaunite also gives insight on Vi's position on the Zaun-Piltover new relationship: yes, she's willing to help out manage this, always from the position of a kid from the Lanes.

Zaun and Piltover are also stuck together after the ending - they've fought together against a common enemy and that has also forced Piltover's elite to sit and listen to Zaun's demands. For sure Piltover's aristocracy still has to get their heads out of their asses but this is how I like to read the phrase in regards to Zaun-Piltover, layered upon what Vi is saying: I am the dirt underneath you = I (Zaun's state and problems) am a consequence of your (Piltover's) actions and I am not going anywhere. (You will have to listen).

Anyways, lots of rambling and I'll still be missing stuff!

Another thing is, native spanish speakers as I am use the phrase "Nail and flesh" to say that two people are inseparable, and this has enough similarity to that for it to feel like Vi is also saying they are inseparable. So yeah

[nerves-nebula]

Emergency funds needed for South Sudanese refugees

Hi all, long story short, Abdul and his friends need more money quickly as food is becoming scarce in his camp due to shop closure and an increase in refugees.

I've been supporting him as much as I can but I've only just started working again and have bills of my own which eat up most of my check. Any amount donated is immensely appreciated!

I want to end this by saying I'm incredibly grateful for all the help you've shown Abdul. Just a few days ago I had the honor of sending him a couple hundred dollars that'd been raised over the past few weeks. To see photos and videos of Abdul you can check out #abdulfund on my blog

Below I've copied a message of what Abdul has told me over whatsapp:

Hello my friend hopefully you are doing well today I would like to inform you about a very very important issue happening here at the camp, yesterday but one there happened a gun fire outbreak in juba capital between the army and the natives of different tribes and it left to curfews in juba plus all other places in the country,

Yesterday all shops in camp where closed but today some shops have opened but the army is patrolling the whole camp now we have been warned to stock food as the shop keepers cannot move to the capital to get us usages,

I would ask for some urgent support for food so that as we still not aware of when the curfew will end so please I am humbly asking you to help me with some funds so that I can stock food such that I don't starve in this miserable situation happening at the camp.

I hope you are able to see on internet what is currently happening in juba and the neighborhood centers in south Sudan.

The struggle left almost 50 people dead and also in camp the struggle left some police officers killed as well as a few refugees from Ethiopia but at least the security is a bit tight at the camp because we are some miles away from the capital as the camp is in the desert surrounded by military baracks it's what keeps us a bit safer from these attacks and UN has its army base close to the camp.

I will keep you updated on our situation

Thanks yours Abdul luyombya.

[tayzzyronth-ao3]

finally. art that's both sfw enough for tumblr and that i remember to post here (if the quality is crunched that's probably my tablet's fault, there's a higher-ish res version on bsky) but its not even that presentable lmaooo

but yeah these are rough designs for an EXTREMELY convoluted ratiorine au which is more or less a sequel to a multichapter fanfic (which is already its own convoluted au) that i havent even written yet called 'simulacrum'

more details:

the plot of simulacrum is that aventurine dies and has his soul stuffed into a robot (like how xueyi is) and basically packaged into a box and mailed to ratio as part of a whole series of mind games meant to fuck with them both specifically. its a long story. but eventually it ends with them both living on the xianzhou as happy homosexuals

then the current working title for the sequel is praetendere (might change it) where we jump like a few centuries into the future to contend with the sad fact that even if they got a happy ending in simulacrum, aventurine's functionally immortal and ratio isnt. but at ratio's insistent request before he passed, aventurine keeps on living and takes on the alias shā-jīn (his cn name, lol) as he now works for the ten lords' commission on the luofu, using his ipc-honed skills to uproot the disciples and help with the xianzhou's hunt

thats when he gets a tip from 'mendax', the apprentice of a rogue genius society member who is tampering with the power of the abundance. this happens to coincide with a fierce battle between the luofu's knights and another denizen army so only shā-jīn is able to respond to the tip and runs into a man who is uncannily similar to ratio, who's been dead for centuries.

thats kind of as far as ive gotten lol

[hannahbarberra162]

Under the Microscope, Part 6 (Yandere Sabo X Reader)

on Ao3

18+ MDNI

All the other chapters

You spend your first few days on the island. It's like a vacation, right?

Your POV

“Naturally there’s only one bed,” Sabo said as if you were being silly, “this was my room, how many did you think I would have?” He kept a firm grip on your arm as you tried pulling it away. “It gets very cold on the island at night and we don’t have any heating. We’ll share a bed again, like we did on the boat,” Sabo explained. The room was much like the house, it had belongings in it but bare white walls and no rugs on the wood floor. It had a large bay window, a small bookcase filled with books, a closet, a few wooden chests, and a bed big enough for two. You’d investigate the books later, you were tired.

“I don’t think - can’t I sleep on the couch? Or the floor?” you asked. 

“No,” Sabo replied firmly. You waited for him to elaborate, but he didn’t. Sabo wasn’t asking you, he was telling you. It reminded you of when he informed you he’d be taking you to the Revolutionary Army.  “It will be like before. I’ll keep my clothes on and stay over the blankets, I don’t get cold.” You were uncomfortable with the idea, but what choice did you have?

“Ok,” you replied quietly. “I don’t, um, have another set of clothes, can I -” 

Sabo smiled again, back to his happy mood. He released your arm and put his hat down on top of the bookshelf.

“I told you, you can wear anything I have. Anything that is mine, is yours. The closet has various garments hanging, feel free to look.” You padded over to the closet, not commenting on the wedding vow-like statement Sabo had made. Looking through the clothes, you were a little disappointed. There were a few boxes up top filled with men’s summer clothes and a cowboy hat, but there were mostly Sabo’s shirts and slacks made of cotton. There wasn’t anything substantial like sweaters or thermal garments. It made sense, Sabo didn’t get cold, like he said. You did find some longer socks, which you took, along with a long sleeved shirt from the closet. 

“I’m gonna, um, change. Can you….” you trailed off, hoping Sabo got the hint, like he had on the boat.

“Of course, I’ll do the same. Be back in a minute.” Sabo took some clothes for himself and left the room. You hurried and changed, pulling the socks up as far as they would go. Since Sabo was taller than you they went past your knees, but were warm and comfy. Before putting on Sabo’s shirt you took off your filthy underwear and bra. You hand washed them a few times on the boat but they were still beyond gross. You wavered, you didn’t want to sleep nude under Sabo’s shirt but you really couldn’t bear to wear them another time. You sighed and buried them deep in the closet, you’d wash them again tomorrow. It would be mortifying to ask Sabo for underwear, but you’d have to do it eventually. 

You crawled into the bed, laying down under the covers. Your eyelids were heavy, you wanted to sleep even though it wasn’t late in the night. The bed was firm with a handmade quilt on it. It was a Jolly Roger of some crew, but you weren’t sure whose it was. Laying your head on the pillows, you squirmed around until you were comfortable. Sabo re-entered the room wearing more casual clothes than you’d ever seen him in but still with leather gloves on. You scooted over, giving him plenty of room on the bed. He laid down next to you, wavy blond hair strewn over his pillow. He was close to you, but wasn’t touching you. Like he said, the room was getting colder now that it was night. Maybe you’d cuddle up to him in the night, but you were OK for now.

“I feel like you’re drugging me,” you said sluggishly, hand under your cheek, face turned towards Sabo. 

Sabo laughed lightly. “What makes you say that?” He tugged the quilt higher up so it was covering your shoulders.

“I’m so tired all the time, I feel like all I do is sleep,” you said, yawning. 

“You’ve been chronically exhausted. How much were you sleeping before we met?”

Your eyes shut of their own accord. “Not much, maybe a couple hours a night. Couldn’t sleep more than that.” 

“It’s your body catching up. I’m sure you’ll adjust soon,” Sabo said quietly. You hummed, already drifting off to sleep. You thought you felt Sabo kissed the top of your head, but you were already one foot in Dreamland.

Sabo POV

Sabo watched you sleeping, as he had the previous nights. He wasn’t going to sleep yet, but he wanted to send you off to rest at your side. You were already scooting closer to him to get warm, but you’d be alright for now. Sabo hadn’t mentioned that the warmer clothes were in the chest by the foot of the bed. He wanted you to be cold, to seek his warmth in the night, like you had the past few nights. He’d let you know before he left for the RA headquarters, he didn’t want you to be cold in his absence and seek out someone else, even if it was only Ace. 

He wasn’t going to do anything, but Sabo was curious about your outfit for the night. He let his hand wander down under the blanket for a moment before he simply had to see if what he felt was correct. He gently peeled the blanket back, scooting closer at the same time. Sabo felt his cock pushing against his pants as he ran a hand slowly up your leg, beginning at your ankle. You were wearing his socks but because you were shorter they looked more like thigh-highs.  It was so sultry and sexy to see you like that, Sabo wanted to peel them off of you with his teeth. He wanted  to fuck you with your feet on his shoulders while you wore those socks and nothing else. He wanted to be smothered by your clothed thighs as he ate you like a fine meal, your fingers gripping his hair. He couldn’t stop himself from running his hand higher and higher to touch your thighs where the socks cut off. He made a mental note not to buy you any socks in your size, he thought his looked great on you.

As he ran a finger up your leg towards your hip, he made another fascinating discovery. You weren’t wearing any panties. Sabo knew you didn’t mean to provoke him, otherwise you would have indicated it somehow. He didn’t want to spoil his own fun, so he didn’t take a good look at your nudity. Sabo wanted you to show him your luscious body, not take furtive glances in the dark like a thief. Sabo reluctantly pulled the blankets back over you, but you rewarded him by rolling towards him. He was able to keep a hand on your leg, delicately touching you while you slept. You sighed happily in your sleep, the first time Sabo had heard such a sound coming from you. 

Sabo also noticed that you didn’t correct him when he mentioned your sleep schedule when you “met.” Normally you were so quick to say that he’d kidnapped you, but you’d let it slide for the first time. He wanted to gently acclimate you to your new life, and it seemed like you were adjusting rather well for your first week. Sabo silently slid out of bed, pressing another kiss to your head. It was too early for him to go to sleep and he had to deal with this massive erection you’d given him. 

Grabbing a towel, Sabo silently left the room and shut the door, leaving you to sleep. Going to the shower, Sabo turned the water on as cold as it would go. He didn’t love being in water as a Devil Fruit user, but some sacrifices needed to be made. Under the cold streams of water, Sabo tried to will his visions of you in those socks to go away but it was no use. Sighing, he changed the water to hot, and started slowly stroking his cock. He’d done this daily since he met you, one more time wasn’t going to make a difference. 

Grabbing the base of his thick cock with one hand, he slowly started pumping himself into his fist. In his imagination, you were spread out beneath him, mewling for him, calling his name. He imagined fucking you slow and deep, hitting your sweetest spot with his cock just so. He sped up his movements, imagining your tits bouncing as he fucked you faster, biting into your shoulder and marking you. You’d come undone before him, moaning his name over and over like a prayer on your lips. As Sabo imagined you coming, he came in his hand, almost moaning your name. Panting, he took a moment to collect himself and turned off the shower. Wrapping himself in his towel, he quickly brushed his hair and put on his clean clothes. 

Exiting the bathroom and going downstairs, Sabo saw an unamused Ace waiting for him in the living room, perched on the back of the sofa. Sabo sighed, the conversation was going to happen sooner or later. Ace wanted it sooner.

“Sabo, what the fuck?” Ace began. He wasn’t yelling, which was a good start. Sabo wasn’t going to let him disturb your sleep, but it would be easier to talk to him if he didn’t start getting angry immediately.

“Well, I couldn’t leave her -” Sabo began, but Ace interrupted immediately.

“I know the RA didn’t order you to bring her here, so I’m asking again, what the fuck?” Ok, Ace was mad. He actually thought through why you’d brought Sunny here.

“You’ll like her! She’s smart, she’s kind -”

“She’s pretty too, eh Sabo?” Ace crossed his arms.

“I mean, yeah, but that’s not why I -”

“Cut the shit Sabo, what’s going on?”

Sabo sighed, he was going to have to level with Ace at least a little bit. He’d never been able to conceal the entire truth from his brother, Ace knew him too well.

“I brought her from that Marine base, she was the target of my last mission. She’s a brilliant scientist, I want her to continue researching some of her prior assignments. And I didn’t want to bring her to the RA, I thought it would be overwhelming for her. She’s…tightly wound, anxious. They weren’t treating her right, they were hurting her.”

“And…? -” Ace prompted. He wasn’t going to drop it until Sabo confirmed what he wanted to hear.

“OK, fine. Yes, I like her.” Sabo was annoyed, he didn’t want to talk about his feelings for you, even with Ace. Ace grunted. 

“But that’s not why I brought her here,” Sabo protested. “I’m going to have to go back to the Headquarters soon and I want you to watch over her. You can’t stay by yourself on the island forever. You need to -”

“Don’t tell me what I need to do, Sabo,” Ace bit out. Sabo rolled his eyes. He’d been trying to get Ace off the island for a long time, but Ace wouldn’t leave. Every time Sabo left for a mission or for the headquarters, he offered Ace a spot on whatever ship Sabo was taking but Ace declined every time. He always said that he needed more time to heal, but Sabo thought he was scared. Scared to see his old crew, his old friends, to see Luffy, to face the judgment of people he knew. Not that he would say all that to Ace, that was a sure way to get a week of silent treatment. Sabo didn’t want to force him off the island either, that would be counterproductive. 

“Well, she’s staying here for now. Give her a chance. She’s got a fun Devil Fruit -” Ace’s face soured as Sabo mentioned Devil Fruits, but Sabo persisted “and I don’t think she even knows who you are.” Ace’s eyebrows went up nearly to his hairline.

“How? Everyone in the world knows -”

“Ask her yourself. She didn’t react when you introduced yourself, it wasn’t an act. She’s been isolated in her lab for years. The Marines were working her to the bone, you should have seen her when I met her.” Ace huffed. Sabo was pleased you didn’t know who Ace was, it would be easier for you to talk to each other if you didn’t come in with any preconceived notions. He knew you and Ace would get along well, you two just needed to sniff around each other a little. 

“What’s her Devil Fruit? Anything good?” Sabo hummed to Ace’s question. Ace was already a little interested, he could tell.

“Not for combat, but it’s fun. She can magnify things -”

“ -like make food bigger?” Sabo rolled his eyes. Of course Ace’s mind would go straight to food.

“No, as far as I can tell she can just magnify the images of things, but it’s still useful. I’m sure she’d show you if you asked.” Ace thought for a moment.

“Final question: why aren’t you calling her by her real name?” 

Sabo bristled at the question. “She hasn’t told me yet, just her nickname. She’ll tell me when she wants to.” Sabo did know your real name but he didn’t want to freak you out. He knew a lot about you, actually. But he’d only use the information if he needed to.

Ace jumped off the couch gracefully. “Whatever, Sabo. I know you’re hiding something. But for now I don’t care. I can babysit her while you’re gone but don’t expect us to become friends.” Ace walked out of the house into the cool night. Sabo rolled his eyes but smiled a little as he went to his office to work on some reports. Things would work out just fine. 

Your POV

You woke in the early morning, finding yourself curled into Sabo’s side. He had his arm looped over your middle, spooning you from behind. Turning onto your back, you saw he was still asleep. You were cozy and enjoyed the sensation of being near someone, even if it was your kidnapper. True to his word, he was wearing clothing and was over the blanket, which was a small source of comfort. You looked him over in the morning light. His features were relaxed in sleep, his wavy hair splayed out giving him an angelic look. You hadn’t really gotten a close look at his scar before, even when you were in his jail cell with him. It covered most of the left side of his face and looked like it dipped below the collar of his shirt. You felt the impulse to trace it with your fingers but didn’t want to wake him. 

You tried to slowly move Sabo’s arm off of you, but as soon as his arm wasn’t making contact with your body, he brought it back down and pulled you closer to him. Any attempts to free yourself just made him hold you tighter. There wasn’t any way you were getting out of bed without Sabo letting go of you. Sabo was strong, but you didn’t think he would be that strong in his sleep.

“Sabo,” you whispered, trying to wake him gently, “Sabo, let me go.” Sabo stirred a little but his iron grip didn’t budge. “Sabo,” you whispered, this time shaking him gently, “lemme go.” You squeaked as a sleepy Sabo rolled and pulled you under him.

“No,” Sabo grunted as he fell back to sleep on top of you, his face buried in your neck. Your face heated as you felt the combination of his hot breath on your face and his morning erection pressing against you. You knew it was a natural occurrence, he wasn’t even awake, so you wouldn’t mention it to him. 

“Sabo,” you said, louder this time, “Sabo, you’re squishing me, get off.” You repeated yourself even louder and shook him and he finally woke up.

“Hi,” Sabo said huskily, grinning down at you with closed eyes, face still soft and sleepy. Ugh, why was he so goddamn attractive?

“Hi. You’re crushing me,” you replied, trying to push him off you. Sabo opened his eyes and took stock of the situation. You realized his milky eye didn’t track anything - you had suspected but now you knew he couldn’t see out of it at all. 

“Oh, sorry,” Sabo replied. He didn’t seem embarrassed or surprised in the least. He rolled off, laying on his back next to you. Stretching, Sabo let out a big yawn. 

“I didn’t mean to wake you, you can go back to sleep,” you said quietly. You figured he might want to go back to sleep, judging by the sun it was still very early in the morning. 

“No, it’s alright, I’m up. It’s good to start the day early, I should thank you. Are you always a morning person?” You thought about it for a moment.

“Well, this is the first time I haven’t gotten up to reverie in years, so I don’t really know. I never took any vacation days, I was always busy -”

“Working,” Sabo finished for you again. You were getting tired of him doing that. “Well, this could be like a vacation, you can rest and relax and have fun.” Vacation was not exactly how you thought of your time with Sabo. He hadn’t done anything bad to you, but it wasn’t a vacation to be taken against your will. You didn’t answer, just swung your legs over the side of the bed, pulling the long shirt lower so it covered more of your thighs. 

“What do you want to do on your first day off?” Sabo asked, still laying down, now with his arms behind his head. You turned your head to face him, fiddling with the quilt on the bed.

“Umm, I’m not sure. I don’t know what there is to do here,” you replied. You actually hadn’t had a day off in a long time. If you were at the base you would probably have worked anyway, but now there was nothing to do.

“I think you should spend some time outside. You have an unhealthy pallor to your skin. I mean, I know I’m pale, but you look like you’ve spent years locked away.” 

“I wasn’t locked away, but you’re probably right. I saw some interesting flowers, similar to some I’ve seen on Spring islands and I wanted to…” you trailed off, knowing Sabo wasn’t interested in your thoughts on flowers.

“Wanted to do what?” Sabo prompted. Your face heated again, it was a little embarrassing to talk about your nerdier hobbies.

“To um, press them. And look at them later. It’s a…hobby I used to do. I have, well, had a few books of flowers I pressed over the years.”

“What a wonderful way to spend the day! You do that, I’ll work, and we can meet back up at lunch time.” Sabo seemed happy you’d found a way to entertain yourself. You started to get up, but sat down quickly with a question.

“But wait, how will I know when it’s lunchtime? I don’t have a watch and what if I’m on the far side of the island? How will you let me know it's time to eat?” Sabo smiled at you and gently pulled your hair.

“I’ll use my observation haki, silly. Ace can too, we’ll always be able to find you here.” Sabo said so casually, but it sent a chill down your spine. They’d always be able to know where you were? The chances of you escaping from the island were down to zero. You’d have to wait until Sabo took you off the island, if he ever did. 

“Ah. Ok. Well, I’ll um, get dressed then. Make some breakfast maybe,” you said awkwardly. You went to the closet, took a pair of Sabo’s pants and a belt you found, and tried to discreetly dig for your dirty bra and panties. Wrapping it all in a bundle, you scurried out of the room to the bathroom to change.

As you expected, the pants were too big and you had to use the belt to keep them up. It had a red letter “A” emblazoned on the buckle, it was probably Ace’s. You’d ask him if you could use it when you next saw him, and hoped he said yes. Ambling down to the kitchen, you made one of the three meals you were good at making - quick buns with egg filling. It took a little bit of time for the dough to rise but they were worth it. By the time Sabo had come down the stairs, the buns were done steaming and you were finishing off the eggs to go inside. You’d made some coffee and were drinking it from a mug you’d found.

“Thank you for cooking! This looks amazing, I can’t wait to try it,” Sabo exclaimed, sitting down at the counter. You served him a plate, then grabbed your own.

“I think I made too many, I haven’t cooked in a while,” you lamented. Sabo grinned.

“I wouldn’t worry about it. Ace’ll show up eventually. He’s never been one to leave food behind. Especially nothing as good as this.” You hummed and bit into your food. The two of you ate in comfortable silence, enjoying the early morning sun. When you were done, you cleaned your plate and went outside, purposefully not asking Sabo for permission. He said you could and you didn’t want to act like more of a captive than you were. 

You spent the morning enjoying strolling around the island. There was a surprising amount of ecology on the island. There was freshwater, like Sabo had said, but also some grassy areas and some more densely wooded areas. Vegetation abounded and you enjoyed looking at some of the unique specimens you hadn’t seen before. Once you were far away from the house, you tried zooming in on it, just to see what was happening inside. You spotted Sabo and tried zooming in further, to see what he was writing at his desk. As you watched him, he looked up and smiled, waving at you. It scared you and you dropped the magnification immediately. Evidently the observation haki worked both ways and he could tell when you were watching him. 

Dropping that idea, you spent your time in nature observing various organisms. You’d forgotten how much you enjoyed macrobiology since you spent so much time on the micro side of things. You were looking closely at an interesting leaf you found on the ground, when someone spoke behind you.

“Hey, it’s lunch -” Ace started, but you cut him off with a scream.

“Don’t scare me like that!” you panted, out of breath from your fright.

“Whaddya mean? I wasn’t being quiet or anything. I even called your name a couple times,” Ace said in disbelief.

“Well I didn’t hear you, geez,” you said, heart rate finally calming down, “sorry, let’s head back.” You and Ace walked near each other back to the house.

“You wearing my belt?” Ace asked, looking at your outfit after a few minutes of walking in silence.

“Oh, I’m sorry, yeah. Is that OK? I found it in Sabo’s closet and I needed -”

“S’fine. I’m not using it. What were you doing?” 

“Oh, um, looking at a leaf. It had an interesting serration pattern that I wasn’t expecting given the climate of the island.” Ace didn’t reply, but most people didn’t. It was no secret to you that the things you found interesting weren’t always interesting to others.

“With your Devil Fruit power?” Ace continued, almost sounding attentive.

“Yeah. Did Sabo tell you? I can um, magnify things.” 

“He mentioned it. What can you do with it?” Ah, the same question you always got. You tried not to be defensive, you didn’t think he meant anything by it.

“I use it a lot in research, like a supercharged magnifying glass. I also like to look at the stars, animals, plants, bugs -” Ace cut you off.

“You like bugs?” he asked skeptically.

“Yeah, I wanted to become a botanist or an entomologist for a while when I was a kid. That’s a scientist who -” you started to explain, but Ace cut you off again. 

“I know what an entomologist is. Kind of a weird thing for a kid to want to be,” Ace said. You shrugged, you didn’t need to justify yourself to him. What was with these brothers and interrupting? Were they raised by wolves or something? If anything, you were feeling annoyed at yourself for sharing information without being asked. 

“But, then again, our other brother has always wanted to be King of the Pirates, so…not the wildest dream I’ve ever heard of.” Ace mentioned the third brother, you wondered who he was or if you’d meet him on the island. Only time would tell. The two of you reached the house with Sabo sitting on the porch, waiting with three dishes of stir fry at the ready.

“Did Ace catch you unaware?” Sabo asked when you got close enough. “I heard you scream.” You blushed, you didn’t think it was that loud. 

“Yeah, but it wasn’t his fault, I wasn’t paying attention.” You sat down on the chair nearest Sabo and started to eat. Like the previous night, the food was excellent. You sat between the two brothers, eating and staring at the ocean, enjoying the quiet calm. 

After that, things fell into a pattern for the next few days. Sabo gave you a notebook and a pencil, and you spent your days outside observing and noting the flora and fauna of the island. Someone would come and get you for meals, and you’d go to the house to eat. Sometimes you’d read on the couch in the afternoons and take a short nap or go walk along the rocky shore of the island. It was quite relaxing, you actually felt energized and recharged. Shortly after dinner every night you’d be too tired to stay awake any longer and have to go to sleep. Sabo always went to bed with you and you always woke up to the two of you spooning. 

Sabo’s  POV

Sabo watched silently from afar as you delicately touched a crimson flower petal with a slightly shaking finger, like it was spun from glass. You were crouching low to the grassy ground, inspecting the island’s blaze flowers. They were gorgeous when in bloom, their petals a gradient that went from deep red to orange, mimicking the fire from which they got their name. The flowers didn’t have any practical use besides their beauty, but when Sabo had seen them blooming on the island during his initial inspection, he had taken it as a sign that he and Ace were meant to live there. 

Sabo didn’t have to try very hard to hide himself from you, you remained as oblivious as ever, which worked to his advantage. He watched over you constantly to ensure that your transition to living on the island was as smooth as it could be. He watched you wander around the island, either in person if he had time, or checking in on you with his haki. Sabo wanted to spend every moment with you, given that he’d be leaving in a few days, but he knew that wouldn’t help you adjust any faster. You were like a little kitten, you needed to explore your new environment on your own - with a little guidance here and there. He sought you out every few hours, usually to let you know that meals were ready or that he’d made you tea back at the house.

Every time he found you, you were magnifying something, or making little notes in the journal he’d given you, or gathering wildflowers to press later. Sabo could practically feel the tension lea vin g your body as you were allowed to exist without deadlines and stress after being overworked for god knows how many years. It still made his blood boil to think of the way you’d been treated at the hands of the Marines but Sabo would bide his time until he left the island. For now, he wanted you to forget that you were brought here and just relax while he was still able to care for you in person.

Sabo was a little nervous to leave you with Ace, especially since you’d just gotten to the island. Ace would come around, Sabo wasn’t worried about that. Ace’s loneliness and curiosity would trump his moodiness, it wouldn’t take long. If Sabo had his wishes, he would have stayed here with you for at least a month, showing you what life would be like when you accepted your place at his side. But unfortunately, being the Chief of Staff of the Revolutionary Army meant that his presence was needed in person, not just over the den den. He had a few smaller missions he needed to complete, and he was hoping to be done with all of that and back to the island in a few weeks. 

Sabo knew he would miss sleeping next to you in bed, it was practically one of his favorite parts of the day. You still drank the water he gave you, making you conk out by 9 PM every night. He would miss a lot of the physical touches he fostered between the two of you, taking every opportunity he could find to touch you. You were still unsure and shy, and didn’t always pick up on it when Sabo flirted with you. He found it endearing, how reserved and inexperienced you were. It made Sabo wonder if he’d be your first (and last) lover, or if you had some kind of romantic fling before. 

Intentionally pushing your boundaries, Sabo would stand too close to you when you were showing him a particular bud, or guide you back to the house with his hand on the small of your back. He would ask you about the stars at night before you got too tired, sitting behind you on the rocky beach so that your back touched his chest. You always flushed at his antics, but never said no or moved away. In fact, during colder evenings spent under the stars, Sabo found you leaning towards him for heat, much like you did in the night. He saw your glances you tried to hide, watching him as he cooked in the kitchen or as he worked in his office. Every day you came closer to Sabo’s goal of getting you to trust him, to want to be with him the way he wanted to be with you.

Walking up to your still crouching form, Sabo tried to make as much noise as he could so as not to startle you. He kicked rocks, he was humming, he even snapped a few sticks under his feet to generate noise. Once close enough, Sabo put his hand on your shoulder in greeting. You jumped, surprised to see him, and accidentally dropped the flower you’d been holding. 

“S-Sabo! Sorry, I didn’t see you, I was um, looking at this flower,” you said while retrieving the blossom from the dirt below. Sabo truly enjoyed your observations and thoughts about the vegetation and insects on the island. He found that you had a wealth of knowledge about almost all facets of science, and were always interested in learning more. He was sure that once he was gone, you’d pilfer his meager library in search of more information. 

“Mmh, the blaze flower. Lovely, isn’t it?” Sabo picked another beside you, twirling the stem between his fingers. 

“It is, I’ve never seen another like it. I wonder what geological and meteorological attributes of the island make it blossom so early in t he season,” you replied thoughtfully, still touching the petals. Sabo took his flower and gently tucked it behind your ear. As always, your face flamed and you averted your gaze from him, but you didn’t remove the flower he’d given you. Sabo stood up, and giving you his hand, helped you to your feet as well.

“Lunch is ready, let’s eat before Ace does. Otherwise, all we’ll have left are these flowers for food,” Sabo joked, trying to lighten the tension. You laughed lightly, having seen Ace’s appetite in action. Sabo put your hand on his forearm, like a gentleman, walking together back to the house with arms linked. You didn’t flinch or pull away, instead allowing him to rub small circles into your soft skin with his gloved thumb. One day at a time , thought Sabo, one day at a time.  

Your POV

Life was easy on the island, you actually had been enjoying your captivity thus far, if you were being honest with yourself. You were still nervous around Sabo and his brother but you were enjoying your time on the island when you were out exploring. Sometimes Sabo would come find you and ask you about whatever you were looking at. You knew he was scientifically oriented, so you shared your findings with him. They weren’t particularly academic, but seeing a beautiful flower or fascinating beetle held your interest and seemed to hold Sabo’s as well.

As before, you enjoyed talking with Sabo, even under the new circumstances. He was always polite and sweet and tried his best to make you feel comfortable. You had to constantly remind yourself that he had ulterior motives, that he just wanted you to work for the Revolutionary Army and this was all just a part of a plan. You knew he was touching you a lot, but you knew better than to think it was all genuine . But you found yourself wanting to lean back into his body more during your stargazing, or to grab his hand as the two of you walked together, or to sit closer to him on the porch steps so your legs touched. You didn’t do those things, but the longing increased day over day. It made you feel a little pathetic, enjoying the attention and affections of someone who was only pretending, but you couldn’t help yourself. 

On the sixth morning, as you finished your eggs in a bun, Sabo and Ace perked up their heads simultaneously. It was eerie, like they both sensed something at the same time. You hadn’t felt anything, it unnerved you. 

“Ship’s here,” Ace grunted, already back to eating. Sabo’s eyes flicked to you.

“We’re going somewhere?” you asked, confused. Maybe this would be a chance for you to escape after you made it to the next destination. 

“Ah, no. I’m leaving. You’re staying here with Ace,” Sabo replied, putting his hand over yours as if to comfort you. 

“You’re leaving me here?” you asked quietly, your hopes suddenly dashed. 

“Not forever, I just need to leave for a bit. It will only be a few weeks, then I’ll be back. You won’t be alone, Ace will be here too. He’ll keep you company.” Ace grunted again. You’d had a few conversations with Ace, but not many. He wasn’t unfriendly or mean, but he was reserved and distant. “Ace will be nice ,” Sabo hissed, looking pointedly at Ace, “and I’ll be here again before you know it. Do you want me to bring anything back for you?”

You were stressing out at the sudden information. Your free hand was shaking, but the one under Sabo’s was kept still by his own. Sabo rubbed his thumb in circles over the top of your hand, watching you carefully. You didn’t like that he was leaving you here, in the middle of nowhere, with someone you didn't know, for an undetermined time, for unknown reasons, to go somewhere secret, what if Sabo died and no one ever found you again, what if Ace got mad at you and killed you, what if there was a tsunami and the island flooded, what if you starved to death on the island…your thoughts were flooded with bad potential outcomes and crises. 

“Maybe some books?” Sabo prompted, bringing you back to his original question.

“Oh. Um. Yeah. Can you get books about the flowers and plants for the island? Especially if there's one about the fruit trees in this area of the Grand Line, there's some really interesting varieties." You’d wanted to learn more than just your casual observations had been offering. You'd never spent time on an autumn island before and you found it fascinating.

“Of course, anything else? Anything you need?” Sabo was still stroking your hand gently. You flushed, thinking of the other items you wanted.

“I..um…need…clothes. All the clothes a woman would need.” You tried to get around saying the actual items, it was too embarrassing. 

“My clothes seem to work well for you for the most part. Is there anything specific you need? Skirts? Dresses?” You had a feeling Sabo knew what you were asking for, he just wanted you to say it.

“No, um, I mean a skirt would be nice, but um, I really need, ah, underwear. And a bra.” You weren’t sure your bra would make it the entire time Sabo was gone, but you weren’t going to go around braless. Sabo smiled, patting your hand.

“Ah, of course. Not to worry, I’ll have Koala buy some. She reports to me, she was on the ship with us. I don’t think I introduced you,” Sabo mused. You remembered him talking to a woman about your murder, perhaps that was Koala. “But you were so sick, remember? Another reason I don’t want you coming for such a short trip.” You nodded, not really processing what Sabo was saying.

“Ace can get a hold of me, call me if you miss me,” Sabo said brightly.

“You’re leaving now?” you asked. Things were moving too quickly, you didn’t have time to adjust to the sudden changes.

“Sorry, the Revolution waits for no one. Stay in the house until Ace tells you the boat is gone. It’s safe but I don’t want anyone to see you.” Sabo stood up and walked over to stand next to Ace, ruffling his long hair.

“Bye, brother. Call me for anything.” Ace barely acknowledged Sabo’s farewell, just gave him a side hug while continuing to eat. Sabo put his top hat on his head, strapped his pipe to his back, and grabbed his coat off the hook on the wall. 

“One last thing,” Sabo said, coming close to you. He leaned down and cradled your face in his hands. Pulling you forward, he kissed you softly on the lips. You were shocked, you didn’t resist or react. Sabo took that as encouragement, kissing you again more deeply while keeping your head in his hands. He pulled back, gave you a small smile, and let go of you.

“Bye, love. See you soon,” he said, tipping his hat with a grin.

[qqueenofhades]

so I've been watching a lot of videos abt food that's uniquely Hong Kong and y'know with all the changes happening there I had a thought like hm is this preservation and documentation of cultural foods that are at risk of being lost?

and then I thought gosh this sounds familiar likkke everywhere we see violent colonization occur not only are lives and freedom lost but also language culture food

and then I wanted to ask you as a historian: has this always been the case? have people always had low key anxiety about culture "loss" or did they think of it a diff way? is this framing of colonization and cultural loss a recent one?

I'm realizing this is a big question and we are all le tired from les recent events, so pls view this as a no pressure ask, I just uh figured you're the only historian I have real access to haha

This is an important question that I don't currently have the mental wherewithal to answer in great depth, but I think it's important to speak to briefly. And I'll put it this way: yes, human beings have always felt that their culture, their way of life, their present existence, their friends and family, and the forces at work against them are tenuous, uncontrollable, and prone to sudden and violent destruction. I'd say it's one of the key themes of being human. I'll cite the famous example of the 8th-century Old English elegy The Ruin of the Empire, known usually as The Ruin:

This is what many of us would consider the dark and distant past, wherein an unknown person in Anglo-Saxon England is observing the ruins of the Roman Empire in Britain and reflecting on how fragile and frightening the present day feels, as if all the glory has faded into the past, as if things will not be "great" anymore, and the present is just moving inexorably toward darkness:

Bright were the castle buildings, many the bathing-halls, high the abundance of gables, great the noise of the multitude, many a meadhall full of festivity, until Fate the mighty changed that. Far and wide the slain perished, days of pestilence came, death took all the brave men away; their places of war became deserted places, the city decayed. The rebuilders perished, the armies to earth.

And yet... that was the 8th century. That was a very long time ago. A lot of history has happened since then, and despite everything, it's still here. People have always looked at the danger and fragility of their present situation and yearned for the perceived stability of the past. Indeed, the reason we have the myth of the "Dark Ages" is largely thanks to the 14th-century Italian humanist Petrarch, who looked at the (also objectively very, very crappy) 14th century, which is similar to now in a lot of ways, and built the shining myth of the Greco-Roman era as a bygone golden age that society needed to reinstate if it was going to save itself from self-inflicted destruction. This in turn gave rise to the Renaissance, which was intensely a cultural project to reclaim and re-instate a seemingly "better" past in the face of present-day chaos and uncertainty. This included a strict reifying of gender roles (etc. etc. Was There a Renaissance For Women?) and turn toward "purer" social ideals.

Anyway: these concepts have been shaped and articulated differently in various historical periods. But yes, the basic feeling that we are losing ourselves somehow, that the past was better and more stable, that the present challenges can be solved by insular reactionary politics, and so forth, is a very, very common human experience. For better or worse: both tangible and intangible artifacts have always been lost, destroyed, subject to violent sociopolitical conquest attempts, written out of history, and used for oppressive political and cultural processes. Part of the reason the right wing is doing so well worldwide right now is because they are tapping into a very, very old "put the strongman in charge and everything will go back to how [good] it used to be" mythology that is also as old as dirt and time, and which humans just keep doing when things feel existentially scary. This "weaponized nostalgia" is even more of an issue in the age of rampant disinformation, AI, and fake-news bubbles which can totally create what is accepted as reality, very often to the benefit of illiberal, right-wing, authoritarian forces. That is very hard to deal with and overcome, and I don't think we're anywhere near doing it.

That, therefore, is the bad news. The good (as it were) news is that at least these cultural processes and human instincts are not new, and indeed have continued for a long, long time. And even when these old things are destroyed, new ones emerge as well. So yeah.

[c-rowlesdraws]

So my dad is a chef and Ratatouille is his favorite Pixar movie. Less for the story and more for the attention to detail they put in keeping a professional kitchen true to life. The whole "anyone can cook!" motto of the story was kind of undercut by Linguine just...not being a good cook? But there's more to a kitchen than just the head chef! A restaurant, a kitchen can't function without EVERYONE doing their jobs. Even dishwashers to keep things clean and sanitary are critically essential; the person who just chops up the vegetables is a simple job but is crucial when there's a a metric TON of onions that needs prep. And is that not cooking? Is everyone working together, cooperating, keeping people fed and happy what it's all about? Linguine wasn't a good over a stove without Remy, but we saw by the end he was a good waiter - that's important too. A great side arc while Collette learns to re-love her passion as a chef is teaching Linguine that he isn't defined by Gusteau's legacy, and not being a *chef* wouldn't mean his contributions to a restaurant aren't valuable either. It would be a great dual 'finding / refinding yourself' arc for both of them!

“The whole "anyone can cook!" motto of the story was kind of undercut by Linguine just...not being a good cook?”

YEAH OKAY like… my biggest problem with the movie was how confused the message seemed to be. Like— “anyone can cook”, that’s a great smaller message, you can be an okay home cook and not a ✨chef✨ and that’s still cooking, that’s still something to be proud of; and another interpretation of that phrase spoke to the main message of the film: “anyone can cook”/“a great artist can come from anywhere”, as in, you can have the potential to achieve your dreams no matter how humble your origins are. But all that was undercut by the film, for some reason, needing to emphasize that some people are doomed to mediocrity even with the best teaching— I remember feeling like, “wait… what?” at the end of the film when the voiceover said, “not everyone can be a great artist” as the camera focused on poor Linguini. It seemed unnecessarily mean of the movie to separate people into, as it seemed to me, people destined to be singular “great artists” and those destined to fail. After having learned more about Brad Bird and his ego, the confusion of the message makes more sense to me. But yeah—back then and especially now, with my professional bakery and kitchen experience as an adult, I don’t like how a movie about a restaurant, where teamwork from top to bottom is essential and “rockstar” chefs are usually red flags, seemed to conclude by celebrating the idea of the singular genius artist.

I feel like it’s also worth pointing out that animation studios, like restaurant kitchens, make art through an incredible amount of teamwork, so it kind of hits extra dirty for me that this army of creative people were directed to produce a story about a similar workplace, where the message wasn’t really ultimately about teamwork or valuing each person for their own skills and contributions, but about how one little special guy ascended to being the bestest specialist guy of them all.

Also YEAH like. Head chef whatever, important position, makes the Big Decisions and is very cool and etc, but good luck running service without anyone doing prep, taking out trash, or washing the dishes. Everyone, especially the head chef, knows the success of the entire damn kitchen rests on the shoulders of the guy in the dish pit.

[sparkbeast20]

Quicky thoughts on Chapter 7

Spoilers ahead of course

Kesi is the mad scientist behind using Angels (Yes I'm calling him that cause he said fuck ethics)

No.1/Failure(jk) is Mammon's clone!!

More Bibil (Bible) references.

It seems like Heaven has a bigger plan going on.

It seems like Mammon and Beelzebub (So far) can senses what's going on right now.

Orias' side right now it seems like he knew that Michael is about to attack Hades. Which is why he assembled Hades' army

Barbatos and Gamigin have breeding kinks *Yes!!*

Gamigin has 2 dicks!!!

Eligos seems to know bit of strategies tatics with how he and Mammon are making plans and anticipating the enemies moves by playing chess.

Angels can use the seed or the artificial seed they made on themselves to mutate into something monstrous.

Something happened to Minhyeok between after his phone call with his brother and the hospital scene.

What the hell happened to Minhyeok.

And Big praise to Ppyong on the last part of Minhyeok's story. I'm still hurt for him.

Leviathan has officially became our Tsundere.

Glasyalabolas pact breaking (I'm fucking happy about that!!!!)

We got some bits on Abyssos and Beelzebub.

Overall, it seems like we're building up for something like a deadly attack.

I might have missed some stuff, but I have to re-read the story to catch what I missed

I'll make some posts about it in depth, once they fix Buer!!! That glitch is making it hard to screen shot some lines, plus I was a little outing with family and some personal stuff came up.

[woeswrites]

Bloodied Shoes

Inho and Gihun are alone during the 'X' versus 'O' bloodbath when a secret gets revealed

Pairing: yan!Hwang Inho/Front Man/001 x Seong Gihun/456 Warnings: Yandere themes, Sexual Situation, Dub-con/Non-con, Smut, Trapped, Voyeurism, Degradation Kink, Hematolagnia, Ballbusting, Violence, Blood/Gore, Cum Eating, Word count: 2.6k Notes: Cross posted to ao3. Squid game 2 was so good? Like I honestly enjoyed it more than the first season (I don't know if that's a hot take or anything). It's been consuming a lot of my time and thoughts lately, so I guess this is just the natural next step, lol. I might make more one-shots based off of other ships I enjoy (Minsu/125 x Thanos/230, Hyunju x Youngmi/095, The Salesman x Gihun/456, etc.), but we will see.

The fluorescent lights flickered overhead, casting strange shadows across the dormitory floor. Inho pressed himself further beneath the metal bed frame, his breath catching in his throat as another shout pierced the air. Beside him, close enough that their shoulders touched, Gihun trembled.

Just as they had spoken about earlier, the riot had erupted without warning. One moment, the players had been settling in for another restless night, the next, someone had snuck over from the 'O' side of the room, and the carefully maintained order had shattered like glass. Now the quarters echoed with screams, crying, and the sound of bodies hitting the floor.

Inho could have stopped it. As the Front Man, he commanded an army of masked guards who could restore order with a single command. But that would mean revealing his identity, and he wasn't ready to give up this chance; this precious proximity to the man who had once again consumed his thoughts since the moment he'd re-entered the games.

"We should run," Gihun whispered, his voice barely audible above the chaos. "While they're distracted." He seemed a lot more shaken up than he had been when discussing the plan previously. Just looking at him revealed his doubts about being nothing more than a sitting duck.

Inho's hand shot out, gripping Gihun's wrist. "No." The word came out harder than he'd intended, and he felt Gihun stiffen beside him. "It's safer here. Trust me. Let's just stick to the plan."

A woman's body crashed to the ground next their hiding spot, her head making contact with the ground before the rest of her, a puddle of her own blood slowly blanketing the floor beneath her. Gihun instinctively pressed closer to Inho, eyes unable to detach from the sight before him. He was uncontrollably shaking.

The surprise contact sent electricity through Inho's body, and he found himself turning his head, studying Gihun's profile in the dim light. Even terrified, even with sweat beading on his forehead and his eyes bloodshot and wide with fear, Gihun was beautiful.

The thought had haunted Inho for years. He'd watched Gihun through the cameras during his first game, had seen his humanity shine through even in the darkest moments. It was frustrating, finding himself subconsciously sympathize and even root for a player after all this time. He was clearly special. That's why when Gihun had requested he return to the games, Inho had been unable to resist joining as a player. He needed to be close to him once again, needed to feel that one last ache of humanity in himself.

Gihun forced his eyes to peel away from the bloody sight before him. "Why are you looking at me like that?" Gihun's whisper cut through Inho's thoughts.

Instead of answering, Inho reached out, his fingers brushing against Gihun's cheek. He felt the other man's breath hitch, saw the confusion in his eyes replaced by something else; something that looked like recognition, then fear.

"Player 456," Inho murmured, using Gihun's number like a caress. "You really don't remember me, do you?" Inho couldn't comprehend it. There was no way he'd ever forget Gihun. Even if all he knew of him was his voice, he'd never be able to get the sound of it out of his head.

Before Gihun could respond, Inho closed the distance between them. His lips found Gihun's in the darkness, desperate and hungry, years of yearning and unresolved confusion and conflict poured into a single moment. The lights flickering continued, highlighting Gihun's shocked expression. For a fraction of a second, he felt him freeze against his touch, then start to respond. His lips moved against his, maybe instinctively, but the moment stopped as quickly as it started. Gihun jerked away, hitting his head on the bed frame above them. He couldn't even manage to react to the pain. "You. You're the-- the Front Man," he stuttered out, the words part accusation, part question.

Inho's silence was answer enough. Above them, the riot continued, but the space between them had become its own battlefield, charged with unspoken words and dangerous revelations. Gihun shuffled as best as he could to promote some distance between the two of them in the cramped opening. Inho ached at the loss of his warmth, leaning closer to where his body just was to no avail.

"All this time," Gihun said, his voice shaking with anger now rather than fear, blood from the blow to his skull starting to trickle down his forehead, "You've been--"

"Watching you," Inho finished. "Always watching you." Inho's words were laced with something that Gihun couldn't understand.

A crash from across the room made them both jump. Inho reached for Gihun again, but this time, Gihun was ready. He rolled away, scrambling to get out from under the bed despite Inho's attempt to grab him. "I can't believe I ever trusted you. I should have known. I can't believe I didn't know--" Gihun's distraught rambling was cut off by a man running past.

"I think I hear him. I heard 456!"

Gihun's blood ran cold as he froze in place. Inho took the opportunity to grab ahold of him once again, pulling him closer to his body and further from any form of exit. Gihun began to squirm and attempt to flee but Inho held onto his arm with a harsh grip. "Let go--" Inho's hand instantly went to shut Gihun up. Smothering any of his pleas for release as he moved to situate himself on top of the man. Now straddling his torso, Inho leaned down to whisper into his ear. "You're a wanted man, dead more than alive it seems. Wouldn't want to draw anyone's attention now, hmm?" Gihun frantically shook his head as the reality of the situation was fully dawning on him. He was either at the disposal of a bloodthirsty crowd of players hellbent on killing him off, or the very man he has been trying to track down for three years.

Inho licked a stripe across the blood tainting Gihun's skin and let out a low groan. "I knew you would taste good". Gihun attempted to squirm, bite, kick, anything he could to get out of this hold. "Quit fighting, player 456." Inho's applied a crushing amount of pressure onto his closed jaw, stilling the man underneath him with a pained moan. "I know you like to pretend you're tough, but we both know that's mostly a façade". His grip was released as fast as it was there to begin with, his hand now trailing alongside Gihun's jawline. "You might pretend to be the hero, but deep down you're just like the rest of them. A slave to your own self preservation". His comment was met with saliva being spit against his cheek.

"Like I'm gonna listen to someone like you talk down to me." Gihun grabbed ahold of Inho's collar and pulled him closer. "You think you're above all of this, but you're not. You're worse. You're just some scum that rids the Earth, getting off on watching others suffer". Inho couldn't help but feel himself twitch to life at the degrading act and words, especially at such close proximity. His hardening cock formed a tent in his uniform and pressed firmly into Gihun's abdomen. It took him a couple seconds to process the cause behind the pressure, but once he did he immediately shoved Inho away, staring at him in disbelief with wide eyes. "What the hell?"

A group of men suddenly appeared near the bed. "See! I told you I heard him. He's gotta be somewhere around here." Gihun froze at the sight of their feet beside his head, their canvas shoes coated in blood. Inho regained his position atop of Gihun, taking advantage of his pause. He tried his best to resist, but Inho held him down. "Shh now," Gihun froze, eyes stuck to the clouded gaze of Inho. "I can help you Gihun. We can both get what we want. But you'll have to be obedient and play along." Inho pressed his erection down onto 456. Gihun, using the little bit of leverage he had in his position, struck his fist against Inho's cock. Inho groaned, head falling down into the crook of his neck at the pain. Gihun's smile of accomplishment dropped as a chuckle escaped Inho's lips. It started low but gradually grew in volume until Gihun began to worry he might alert the men. He reached up to mimic Inho's earlier actions of silencing him, but his wrist was caught in the process. "Now why did you do that?" He tightened his grip, eyes squinting as they burrowed into Gihun's. "Do you know how easily I could yell out right now? Let them all know exactly where you are. Watch as you get torn apart by the filth." Gihun choked down at the threat. None of this was part of the plan. Inho let go of his arm before sending a sickly sweet smile his way. "But you wont make me do that will you?"

After a pause Gihun hesitantly shakes his head once again, too nervous about being heard to verbally reply. "Good boy." Inho's hand slowly made its way toward the waistband of his pants. "Just stay still okay? I'll do all the work." His fingers slipped their way past his white underwear and encaged Gihun's flaccid shaft. He couldn't help but jolt underneath Inho, the feeling so unfamiliar after all these years.

“Youngil,” Gihun whispered out, pleading as he resisted against his torso. Slow, rough movements manhandled his most sensitive parts. Inho felt a pang of annoyance at the name. If this was going to work he’d need to hear him call out his real name. He tutted, slowing his hand.

“Inho,” He whispered back “It’s Inho”

"I-Inho?" Gihun choked on his words, the shock and pleasure getting to him.

"Yes, just like that. Call out my name however much you'd like..." Inho's words drawled out as he slid his thumb overtop of Gihun's slit. The action made him buck up instantly. "Looks like someone's enjoying himself" Inho chuckled. "No." Gihun's voice was weak, trying to look anywhere but those dark eyes that held him captive. He bit his lip, eyes tearing up as he felt waves of pleasure wash over him. Inho's hands were all over him, tugging, rubbing, worshipping. It was too much. Despite everything, he was painfully hard at this point, dripping onto Inho's calloused fingers.

"So wet. So beautiful..." Inho leaned down and nudged his nose against Gihun's neck, inhaling his scent as he worked. Quiet whimpers left Gihun's lips without his permission, his face flushed as he realized how undone he was becoming. Inho's tongue swiped out across his neck, savoring the salty taste. His lips soon followed, hungerly consuming him. His flavor was unimaginable. He couldn't contain himself, allowing his canines to press down into the soft, reddened flesh. Gihun let out a guttural moan, leaving Inho's pants wet with a gush of precum. His hips began to move on their own, humping down into Gihun's stomach. "Wanna be inside you." Inho muttered into his bruising neck. "Need to".

Tears ran down Gihun's cheeks as the pleasure just kept building. The lewdness was too much, he couldn't take it. "No please. I've never..." He couldn't bring himself to continue, it was all just too embarrassing. Inho's grip became tighter around his cock, his strokes forceful and long. Gihun choked on the air escaping his lungs, his back arching at the painful pleasure.

"I'll take it slow. Treat you like the good little dog you are," Inho growled, his thrusts loosing their rhythm.

"You can't, please." Gihun begged, legs clenching at the thought of such an intrusion. Inho's strokes sped up on his cock, pulling more and more out of him as his stomach began to heat up. Gihun's eyes widened as he realized what was about to happen. "Wait, slow," His voice cracked "Slow down please". Inho smiled down at Gihun, watching as his face contorted in a mix of fear and utmost pleasure. "Inho," He called out. His hips uncontrollably came up to meet his assailant's hand, bucking and stuttering. "Inho please," He began to sob, his cock pulsating between the strong digits working him, leaking pitifully all over his briefs. "You can't. I'm about to--" Inho cut off his insistent whispering with a complete change of pace, the stroke became shorter and faster, his thumb pressing down onto his tip.

"Go ahead, come for me Gihun". He tried to resist, shoving his hands against the man on top of him, but his body fought back, jutting up with fervor. Black burned through his vision as a flash of hot pleasure tore through him. Cum spurted out of his head in ropes, spilling all over Inho's hand and his own pants. It's like he lost control of his body, everything going completely limp after Inho's hand retracted from his underwear.

Inho's painful bulge twitched impossibly more upward as he licked his finger clean, tasting as much as he could of what Gihun had given him. "You're so delicious" He moaned, eyes rolling back into his head. "Such a good boy". Gihun tried catching his breath, starting to come back down from the earth shattering high, barely processing the words or actions happening in front of him. Things only started coming back into focus when he felt his pants being pulled lower. "Stay still for me, okay?" Inho cooed teasingly down at Gihun, who had just regained his sense of fight. He kicked and shoved as hard as he could, managing to push Inho hard enough for him to stumble backwards and lose his balance. He fell off of him, Gihun feeling like he could finally breathe again.

Inho couldn't recover from the fall in time, the flickering lights began to steady before turning on completely. All of a sudden shots rung out, silencing the fighting crowd. The guards, they were finally back to stop anyone else from being killed, and subsequently to stop this nightmare. Inho tried regaining his grip on Gihun, but a swift kick to his leg left him withering in pain. Gihun began to scramble, pulling up his pants as much as he could before sliding underneath the bars of the bed. Just as his top half emerged, he was yanked from behind, his ankle in the grip of Inho's hand. "Gihun, get back here. I'm not done with you yet."

Gihun's fight or flight instincts were kicking in as the fear of being stuck there any longer struck him. He looked back at Inho who greeted him with a deathly look, face firm and eyes that could kill. He couldn't stay here with him. He had to get out. Without a second thought, Gihun's foot made contact with Inho's crotch. The immediate release of his leg allowed Gihun to finish wiggling his way out of the small compartment. Behind him he could hear Inho's groans, but he didn't turn to look. Instead, heart beating harder than ever before, he ran to the rest of the crowd, leaving Inho on his own.

Inho chuckled weakly watching Gihun's figure escape. "You never fail to impress me my love." His pants were now covered in his own cum, having almost instantaneously ejaculated at the harsh treatment by the hands of Gihun. Inho made no move to get up, he simply laid on the floor and stared up at the bottom of the mattress above him.

"God, I'll never get enough of you..."

[chimggukchim]

A Jikooker's Take On Taekook

So...it's been a minute - real life is hectic. But I've got some downtime now and like always, a thought popped into my head and I felt like...why not write about it. So here I am.

I will preface this because of my tags that this is in no way meant to be insulting. Because first and foremost...I will always be ARMY who fell in love with all of BTS and their bonds with each other before anything. And no toxic shipper take will ever get me to hate on any members' bonds.

While watching a reactor's video on taekook's dynamic (she does all of BTS, and is not a shipper), it got me thinking back to when I just got into the fandom and was consuming content left and right, building my perception of BTS and the dynamics within them - this is clearly before I felt there was anything between jikook.

Just plain ARMY loving on all the guys. Most importantly, an ARMY who watched content without the influence of twitter or any other social media that could influence my thoughts.

Anyway, so Taekook from my perspective.

I got into BTS at the very beginning of 2017 and rapidly consumed all their content (I'm talking ALL). So by June, I had felt like I had been on this journey with them since 2013 lol.

My initial take on Taehyung and Jungkook was that they were the typical BBFs. The youngest in the group, their vibe to me was like those two class clowns who are attached at the hip, always getting into trouble together, doing the silliest things together...but being the best of friends to the point, they wouldn't know what to do without the other.

The content I saw was Jungkook and Tae doing stupid stuff, either to the other members or to each other. They were so cute. In many moments, it was the maknae line, but I always felt like Jimin was kinda trying to fit in by being silly with them. It was only after, now that I know Jimin's personality better, that I realized it was because of his level of maturity, which was much higher than Tae and JK's at that time. (I've always felt like Jimin is one of the most mature in BTS, probably right up there with Joon and Yoongi).

Anyway, so that was my perception of Taekook.

Fast forward throughout the years, we have seen that dynamic change, and I think it was inevitable and natural as these two grew up and grew more mature. No one can deny that the Tae and JK we see today are very different from the ones who did all those antics back then.

So naturally, as they individually changed, it was no surprise that their dynamic changed as well. And we did see it. Although they still loved each other (there will never be any contestation to this or any other bond in BTS, all those boys love each other to death), we saw less of their jests and games.

i thought it was just me until that little talk they had in In The Soop, where Jungkook did confess that he and Tae had sort of drifted apart and weren't as close as they were before. Now, don't get me wrong. I still believe JK loved and respected Tae, and they did spend time together doing things, but compared to how they were before, yes, there was a decrease in time spent together.

And again, that was only natural. They both had changed, and so I think they needed to re-connect with the persons, the matured adults, they were now.

It started with them voicing it out loud to each other.

And then we got the Taekook we see today. Close again, but in a different way. Now, they don't get themselves into silly antics (although they are still playful as seen in AYS). But they do spend time together doing activities they both share an affinity for.

But it will not and cannot be what it was before. Because these two have their separate lives now to live as well. Will they involve each other in their big moments? I have no doubt they will. And yes, they might spend time with each other's friends as well because that's how normal friendships work.

But there will also be a ton of moments where they will keep just to themselves and yes, their significant others, and not share with each other.

And that's normal and natural too.

So, to anyone trying to discredit their bond to prove their ship right, and YES, it goes the other way too because I am after all, in my jikook circles and see the same being done to Jimin and Jungkook, I say please stop.

Your hurtful, spiteful, DELUSIONAL words will never change reality.

And that reality is that Taehyung and Jungkook are close, they love and respect each other, they see each other as very very good friends. But...they have matured. They may no longer be the BFFs they once were, and most importantly...they are not in love with each other.