#and the vast amount of traffic

[britishchick09]

2024's fireworks show at fountain hills! ;D

[thebroccolination]

People Think Krist Is Homophobic (but He Isn’t)

[TW: discussions of homophobia, death threats, "the rape filter joke", etc.]

Last September, I made a thread about The Whole Krist Thing, and I'd like to make a version here on Tumblr as well.

NOTE: My being a queer fan of Krist doesn’t override the feelings or opinions of other queer people. I fully understand that time on this planet is limited and you don't need to exert precious energy into researching an actor. The reason I'm making this is to provide context for people who are new to the fandom or just wondering why Krist is known as homophobic.

- Why I Made the Twitter Thread -

As a queer international fan living abroad, my understanding of Thailand, Thai culture, and Thai language is extremely limited. Like most of us, I rely entirely on translations, both official and fan-made.

After watching SOTUS for the first time in 2020, I saw English-speaking fans claiming that Krist Perawat, the actor who played Arthit, was homophobic. And it wasn't just one or two people saying it. It was dozens. Hundreds. That called for some research. I loved Arthit, and Krist's empathetic portrayal of him didn't mesh with the angry guy in the Instagram photo I was seeing passed around.

I'd made a number of queer Peraya fans on Twitter, so I went to them individually and asked, "What's this about Krist being homophobic?" As queer fans who were knowledgable and openly fond of Krist, I wanted to hear their side of things.

They sent me links and photos and videos and translations that thoroughly explained how Krist's reputation for being homophobic had gotten so out of control. The problem: those things weren't compiled in one place, and they were all on Twitter where the Asian Peraya fandom is most active. Interfans, meanwhile, took the worst of everything they could find and compiled it into contextless videos for Instagram, YouTube, TikTok, etc. Since the vast majority of Krist's fanbase is spread across Asia and many of them don't engage with the international fandom, it's no wonder to me that the homophobia thing has become so ubiquitous over the years.

It's a paradox where, in order to see the evidence of Krist's allyship, you kind of have to be a fan already. Or you have to know which keywords to use to navigate Twitter's nightmare of a search function (I know, Tumblr is worse). While I made that thread, I was regularly texting Peraya I knew things like, "Do you know where that one interview from 2019 is?" or, "Did you take a screenshot of the marriage equality post he made last month?"

The thread was difficult to make, and I'm a fan! What I know of Krist, I know because I've been a fan for three years and I have access to information that fans who have been here much longer can find.

I also procrastinated on making it for ages. I knew the amount of vitriol people hold against him, and I just wanted to enjoy my time in fandom quietly without calling waves of anger and hate to my carefully curated little corner of sunshine.

Then Krist was in a car accident.

And even though he was reportedly driving safely and slowly, Thailand is notorious for its poorly maintained roads and a high number of traffic accidents. Only months after receiving his first driver's license, Krist's car flipped upside down, and he had to reassure fans from the hospital that he was physically all right, just shaken.

Meanwhile, some international fans thought it was funny.

And that's when I started making the thread.

So, with all that said, let's start with Krist's allyship, because I know most of us agree that that's the bare minimum for an actor working in the BL industry and profiting off the queer community.

- Acts of Allyship -

In the early days of their SOTUS fame, Krist and Singto were interviewed about the LGBTQ+ community.

Acceptance and equality is something that the LGBTQ community still struggles to achieve up to this day. But both Singto and Krist believe that this should not be the case. “They are just humans. They are like me, and they are like everyone,” Krist claims. Furthermore, he mentions that we should all be given the freedom to love anyone we want to love. “It’s just natural,” he says.

“They don’t have to understand now,” Singto says, referring to those who can’t grasp same-sex relationships. “One day, when they find their true love, they will realize that love is the same no matter the gender.” Krist adds, “Gender is not relevant when it comes to love. But in case some people still don’t understand this in time, what’s important is that we all give due respect to each other at the end of the day.”

He's also educated himself in colors representative of the LGBTQ+ community.

When Krist and Singto attended an award ceremony for their photoshoot in the gay magazine Attitude, Krist shared a sentiment that he gave to a queer friend of his. "If no one accepts you, you can stay with me, because I accept you for who you are." [Paraphrased]

Despite Thailand's current government leaning on BL series as a new soft power, it's still very conservative, and its people are to this day fighting to see equal marriage recognized.

Krist often adds his voice to this fight on Instagram, specifically as someone who works in the BL industry. These were in 2021 and 2022:

And, like many young people in Thailand, Krist also seems to support the Move Forward party. Earlier this week, he used an orange heart in a tweet to encourage people to go out and vote in the most recent election. One of the many things the Move Forward party is pushing for is the legalization of same-sex marriage "with the same rights and responsibilities as their heterosexual peers", which the current military government actively does not.

- His Circle -

When I was making my Twitter thread, I hesitated before including mention of his queer friends and coworkers. I knew how that would sound, but in the same way I felt it was important to mention my own queerness, I also think it's important to highlight not just the presence of queer people in his life, but how comfortable they are with him.

As I said in my Twitter thread, having queer friends isn’t indicative of anything substantial, but I do think it’s important to look at how those queer friends interact with him. If you’re queer, you know firsthand which friends you’d be physically affectionate with. The entertainment industry is its own world, of course, and the weight and meaning of relationships and connections can be different, but for all Krist's fame and popularity, he's not so famous or remotely powerful that faking a friendship with him is going to get them very far.

Among his queer friends, you've got Jennie who babies him, Godji who treats him like her son, and Oat who still adores him years after SOTUS. All of them queer, all of them visibly affectionate in a way that feels authentic, at least to me.

On the professional side of things, I think the best example of someone who wouldn't bother with him if he were homophobic is Golf Tanwarin Sukkhapisit. In 2022, Krist worked on The War of Flowers with Golf, a nonbinary queer activist, former MP, and director of The Eclipse. Since they're not just a queer person in the industry but a vocal queer activist who's made incredible progress for the community in their country, I value their judgment of his character.

Again, the reason I bring up these people isn't to say, "Look! Queer people! He knows some!"

It's to point out that he's close to them, and it disrespects their judgment to casually assume that they’d cosy up to a homophobe.

It's a small point, yes, but it was important to me when I first became a fan to see that queer people who know him personally had "vetted" him.

- Growth -

For this next section, I'll address three things I see brought up most often: the rape filter joke, the rumor that Krist said he doesn't like watching men kiss, and the claim that he's only doing BL because rent is due.

1) The Rape Filter Joke

In 2017, Krist and Singto were on a live with (I think) two other friends. They were testing out different filters, and when they got to a blur effect, one of them (one of the friends, I think) said it looked like the filter they put over victims of sexual assault on the news. They all laughed, including Krist and Singto.

I can't find a video of the original event, but we do have a translation of the apology he gave in 2018, and the public apology he made in 2020 when the video resurfaced again.

While this is unfortunate, and it would be nice if he hadn’t done it, I’m more interested in how he responds to criticism and his growth afterward. The incident was in 2017, but even speaking on it in 2020, he didn't make excuses for himself.

He apologized, accepted culpability, educated himself, and has never repeated it.

2) Krist "Doesn't Like to Watch Men Kiss"

There's also a claim that goes around that Krist said he doesn't like to watch men kiss. But that isn't what he said.

The subtitled interview that this claim was taken from has been split into two parts, and I think a lot of people have only seen the first half, if they've seen either.

(Also, my deepest apologies, but I'm linking you to Twitter for the video clips.)

In the first clip, the hosts tease Krist about Singto's sex scene with another actor in Close Friends. I can't speak to the nuances of what Krist is saying in Thai, but in the subtitles, he's basically saying that as a guy, he doesn't want to watch stuff like that and just skips past Singto and his partner to one of the other couples, like the male-female pairs. With just this clip, I agree that it doesn't sound great.

But in the second clip, the hosts tease Krist until he admits that the "stuff" he doesn't want to watch is Singto specifically kissing people who aren't him. Krist's jealousy, especially when it comes to Singto, is a well-trod fanservice joke.

3) He's Doing BL Only for the Money

I mean, I have no idea, but it'd be very weird if this was true, because he hasn't been in a BL since 2018 (if you count Our Skyy), and he's doing very well for himself financially.

Listen, this is probably the least serious people get when they criticize him, but I'm including it because why not, this is already a thesis.

From what I understand based on actors' comments, BL roles don't make a lot of money for the actors. (Boun even quoted a surprisingly low daily salary recently, and I'll share it here if I find it again.) Of course, I imagine Krist has enough fame and clout that he gets paid more than most actors, but to be frank, he absolutely makes more from all his other work.

Apart from the acting work he's done, he hosts two music shows, he starred in a musical recently, GMM just flew him to Japan for the first leg of his Asia concert tour, he runs a restaurant with Wave, and he has a bunch of sponsorships. And that's off the top of my head. The car from his accident in 2021 was a luxury model, and he replaced it with another pretty soon afterward. I'm not bragging for him or anything, but the "he's just doing BL for the money" is an odd thing to say when he probably already earns more than most without doing it.

It would have been a better argument back in 2016 when Krist's family was deep in debt. Krist's said that his main motivation to join the entertainment industry back then was to pay off that debt for his family, and he did so with the money he made from SOTUS.

Krist has spoken in the past about wanting to do more BL roles, but GMM preferred that he work with Singto. Now that Singto's left GMM (likely to start his own agency), Krist is in Be My Favorite, so I think his explanation tracks.

It's also worth mentioning that you can do something for the money and also love what you do. In the case of SOTUS, Arthit wasn't just a role that made him money, he's the character who changed Krist's life. He honors Arthit to this day by always wearing the bracelet he wore to his audition and by naming his music studio "SUN St." after Arthit.

(This is a very minor point, but I don't think a homophobe would cherish a queer role to quite that extent even if it was their kick-off point. If anything, they'd probably try to bury the role and pretend their real success started later.)

- Perception of Sexuality -

I think the reason the IG story hits people so hard is because Krist's reaction makes it seem like he's horrified that people could even think he's gay. My understanding is that he was tired of people interrogating him about his sexuality.

Krist is very openly affectionate with the people he loves, regardless of gender, which is clear in the photos with his friends above. Thus, he's always been like that with Singto. They hug before every show, they sleep on each other, cuddle, what have you. All the stuff of people who have developed a tight bond over the years.

When Krist was asked if he was afraid that that would put off potential partners in the future (which, good god, the questions they're asked) Krist said he doesn't care how people perceive his sexuality.

This was in 2018, the year Our Skyy aired, and he's said similar things in passing before and since.

- Conclusion -

All of what I've posted here is just a slice of what's out there. This is just the stuff I could find with reliable English translations because I'm making this for an English-speaking audience. Krist's fans already know all of this, which is why he has queer fans in the first place, and a lot of them are just too tired by hate fatigue to keep correcting misinformation.

I'm not trying to get every person in the world to like Krist, I promise. He's not perfect. He's a loud mess, and while he has four cats who love him, they're also exhausted by him. I just happen to like loud, obnoxious people, especially when they're as kind as he is.

There are plenty of Thai actors I don't vibe with for any number of reasons ranging from serious to petty. You have my written permission to dislike some people.

The Instagram story he posted was a bad move, we're all agreed. He agrees. He's apologized multiple times over the years. Whether one accepts his apologies is each person’s right, and I understand if this is enough to turn people away.

I just hope it's clear that he's been a staunch ally of the queer community and remains so to this day.

Personally, I'm more upset about the question.

This isn't a question you ask anyone.

And this wasn't the first fan to ask him.

According to people who have been fans from the SOTUS era, Krist and Singto were both relentlessly dogged by fans about 1) their sexualities and 2) details about their relationship with each other. We've all likely seen it happen to actors today, but back in 2016, there weren't hundreds of BL actors vying for the spotlight, so the spotlight hit Krist and Singto in a way that we can't imagine today. Most of us, myself included, arrived in this fandom long after SOTUS's meteoric rise to popularity that ended up saving GMMTV from bankruptcy, but given how many fans still behave like they're entitled to know an actor's sexuality, I think it's safe to trust that it was relentless. Fans accusing Kit Connor of "queerbaiting" as recently as 2022 is proof of that.

At the end of the day, there are plenty of reasons to dislike Krist, just like there are to dislike any person on this planet. He's hyperactive, he's whiny, etc. He's not flawless, but I think he's more than shown through his actions that he isn't homophobic, either.

He's not some actor playing queer roles for clout. He's vocally supportive of queer rights, and he backed that up this week in the polls by voting for the most progressive party in his country who are actively pushing for marriage equality.

But like I said, you don't have to like him, so I'll end this post with a quote from a friend who doesn't like Krist for the funniest reason I've ever heard:

"I don't think Krist is homophobic. I just don't like him because he reminds me of every kindergartener who demanded my attention at the exact moment when I was carrying something that could spill – and then it did spill, and they laughed about it for five minutes."

[lesbian-magicsings]

Fucking Australian manifestations of tma fears (I saw someone cover america and I went. Oh my god time to be Australian!)

The lonely; night buses, night trains, gas stations at like. 1am because they’re the only thing open, drive in movie theatres

The vast; the blue mountains just as a whole, cablecars (yummy), the regional train lines, the ferry system, walking around the Sydney city centre in rush hour

The dark; unlit outback roads, fucking bilbies (they’re nocturnal), and my apartments dimly lit parking lot

The spiral; the random alarms that blare for no reason at my local train station, Sydney trains in general. NSW transport is the spiral. My ass is not making it off one of those trains one day. Pretty sure the carriage change doors are yellow too

The web; our spiders. Obviously. Racing horses (betting specifically) and Australia’s collective alcohol addiction !

The eye; the phone rules in nsw schools. Crowded train stations at rush hour, the isle cameras in woolies. Those people who try to interview the unwilling in public

The buried; those holes we used to make at the beach as children, animal dens, and fucking home loan debt. #high interest rates #kill me housing is going to put me into dept dept. also rip currents at beaches

The stranger; antique stores. The creepy ones, that one circus I have seen come once ever in my memory that is advertised every year. Oh and like. The backstreets of cities and those cafes that just don’t look entirely right

The corruption; ALL OF AUSTRALIAS BUGS. And also those videos where they smack bus seats and they come out with so much dust my allergies would be done for. Also fucking head lice

The flesh; the large amount of beauty salons EVERWHERE and I mean everywhere,, the prevalence of fake tan in fucking high schools. Cannibalism on the Kokoda track

The hunt; the fucking war we had with emus. Oh and dingoes and Tasmanian tigers. Also the large rabbit population of Australia

The slaughter; large amount of venomous animals in Australia, that one abandoned military hospital, every single Australians deep road rage and traffic hatred.

The desolation; the bushfires. Bushfire season. Half of Australia’s plants seeds being activated by fire and some trees encouraging fire. Oh and those people who ask randoms for lighters in public (no I don’t have one on me because I look vaguely emo but thanks for asking me right in front of my father)

[oriistar]

Best Friend

Platonic Sun x GN! Reader

Summary: You never expected that your best friend would turn out to be a seven foot tall robot but lifes full of surprises.

Warnings: None, just platonic fluff!

Working at the Freddy Fazbear Pizzaplex was.. A lot of things. For most it was annoying and stressful. Having to wrangle unruly children while their parents paid no attention wasn’t the easiest thing in the world, especially not when the vast majority of those children were on a perpetual sugar high. When kids were excited it was nearly impossible to get them to not be destructive and anytime you heard a maintenance call over the walkie talkie strapped to your hip you couldn't help but grimace at the thought of how hard the employees down in Parts and Services must be working. All those things considered, your job was almost too easy.

The Superstar Daycare never really got much foot traffic throughout the day. There was the typical morning rush of parents dropping their much younger kids off before they had to go to work, and of course the same rush from 6-7pm when the kids were picked up for the day but other than that there wasn’t much going on outside of the initial play area. Maybe you’d see the occasional staff of security bots doing a round or a kid running to the bathrooms across from the large doors of the play area but that was about it. Yup, life as the lone cashier in the Lucky Stars gift shop was nothing if not mundane and a little maddening with just how absolutely bored you were.

There was one thing to look forward to though. Everyonce in a while, a parent would be a little bit late picking up their kid. Sure it was a little sad but what made you look forward to it was the fact that Sun, the daytime attendant, would bring said kid into the gift shop so they could get a complimentary toy to make them feel better about being left behind. It was incredibly sweet and it really wasn't often that you got to spend any amount of time with the sunny caretaker. Sun was rather interesting to you. Each of the animatronics within the Pizzaplex had very realistic AI but Sun had always stood out to you the most of all. Maybe it was because you saw him more often than the others, even if it was just the little glimpses you got of him through the massive glass windows of the gift shop, but he always seemed more anxious and self aware than the others. Always tip-toeing around the kids and definitely more careful than the Glamrocks would be and that's not even to mention his obvious deep understanding and empathy for human emotions. He was just so much more suited for interpersonal activities which made him absolutely perfect for the kiddos. 

Today was just not one of your typical days though. The daycare was incredibly busy and buzzing with more activity than you had ever experienced while working here before. There were four different birthday parties going on and the daycare was far past its usual capacity. Children were running back and forth between the party rooms that lined the walls and were even more rowdy than usual since they were hopped up on soda, cake, and way too much candy from various pinatas that had been beaten to smithereens. You had been working your ass off inside the gift shop trying to prevent the mess from spreading here as well but it was in vain as plenty of kids ran through and spilled all sorts of things on the merchandise and the vinyl floors. As if the sheer amount of sugar wasn’t enough to set the kids off, it was only worsened by the presence of the Glamrocks visiting for birthday parties and you honestly wouldn't be shocked to find you had some degree of hearing loss from the shrill screeches of overly excited little kids.

When the end of the day had finally arrived, you were absolutely exhausted. Just a glance out of the shop window was enough to make you cringe at the sight of the absolute carnage that had taken place. The daycare had never been in this much disarray and you weren't even sure if you could properly process just how late you’d have to stay to get the gift shop back to pristine condition. As you stood behind the counter, you breathed out a heavy sigh of exhaustion and slumped over. You closed your eyes for a moment and let your cheek rest against the cool surface for a moment to at least attempt to pull yourself together before you needed to start cleaning up the shop. Your brow furrowed a bit as the fluorescent lights above you dimmed a bit, and you opened your eyes and glanced up to see a.. mostly yellow figure looming over you. You didn’t even have the energy in you to feel surprised by his quiet approach as you pushed yourself upright so you could get a good look at Sun. 

The poor guy looked just as ragged and run down as you did though you’d say he had it far worse. The bright yellow paint coating his metal plating was smeared and scribbled on with various colored marker ink and what seemed to be smears of cake frosting? His satin striped pants were covered in soda spills and more smeared cake and you frowned when you realized that some parts of him seemed almost sticky, as if he had been doused in the non-fda-approved Fizzy Faz. He even had all kinds of stickers stuck to him just about everywhere. A small surge of rage pulsed through you as you took in his fidgety and twitchy movements and you swore to the stars above that you’d find and knock out some little kids for the way they had treated him today. Sun took in what seemed like a shaky breath before he gave you a small and almost timid wave.

“Hello friend!” He greeted you although his voice lacked that cheerful lit you had become so accustomed to. You offered him a tired smile in response and cocked your head to the side as you continued to examine him. “Hey Sunshine, what a day huh? Looks like the kids really did a number on you today..” You said with a hum, your voice dripping with noticeable exhaustion. Sun seemed to deflate a little when he fully took in your state and you were sure that if he could move his face, he’d be frowning deeply. “Oh my, oh no, no no, friend you need rest!” He began swaying side to side anxiously as he spoke, his hands reaching towards you but just hovering as he fretted worriedly. You shook your head with a little laugh and raised a brow at him. Even when he was looking far worse for wear, he was still worrying about someone else's well being. Rationally you knew it was just his caretaker code but it was still sweet. 

“You don’t have to worry about me, Sunny. I’ll be just fine after a good night's rest.” You said reassuringly as you reached up and gave a comforting pat to one of his hands. “You’re in much worse shape than I am after all. Do you need help getting cleaned up?” You offered with a knowing smile. There was no way he’d be able to get all that gunk off of him alone and your hands were much better suited for getting into the crevices of his plating. It wouldn’t be the first time you had helped scrub him free of the residue of child care and it probably wouldn't be the last. In fact, you had a suspicion that’s exactly what he came here for as he happily nodded his head at your offer. “Oh, yes please! I-If you aren't too tired of course.” He said sheepishly, his tone lowering as he went back to nervously wringing his hands together. You didn’t respond, simply ducking under the counter to pull out your usual cleaning supplies that you used both for the shop counters and for scrubbing off markers or crayons from your animatronic friend.

While humming a lazy tune, you pulled out the stool you usually sat on from behind the counter and motioned for Sun to sit so you could reach him a little better. While you got to work scrubbing the sunny daycare attendant, he went on rambling about his day and how much fun he had even if it did stress him out quite a bit that the whole place was wrecked. You happily nodded along while you picked stickers off his rays and wiped cake out of his crevices and you couldn't help but smile as you listened to him ramble on and on. Finally you had completed your task and all that was left now was his stained pants but he reassured you that he had plenty of spare ones in his room and one ruined pair was no big deal. He seemed much happier now that he was cleaned up and you grinned happily as he sprang up from the seat when you gave the okay. 

Sun scooped you up into a tight hug and spun you from side to side while laughing happily. “Thank you so much friend! You always do such a good job helping me clean up. Oh oh, don’t even worry about the gift shop, I can take care of everything for you!” Sun said as he set you down and snatched the bottle of cleaner from your hands. “Oh Sun, you really don’t have to do that. You already have your hands full with the rest of the daycare. You really don’t need to do my work for me on top of that.” You said, reaching for the bottle of cleaner but he promptly held it up and out of your reach. Curse him and his damn height. Sun tsked and wagged his finger in your face before scooping up the stool you brought out for him. He placed the stool back behind the counter and before you could protest anymore, he grabbed you and set you down on top of it. “You still have to count out the register right? And I just cant let your kind deeds go unrewarded!” Sun said as he quickly moved around the shop with perfect efficiency. You gave a small huff to let him know you were displeased but you didn't argue anymore. Once Sun had his mind set on something it was hard to dissuade him. 

“I’m serious.” You said as you popped open the cash register and began counting through today’s earnings. “You don't have to give me a reward for helping out, that's just what best friends do.” You muttered nonchalantly as you sorted out the money and pulled out the log book of receipts to make sure you haven't made any mistakes throughout the day. Sun had stopped his cleaning, mid straightening out some plushies of his likeness on one of the shelves. He turned to look at you and he tilted his head unnaturally far to the right. “Best friends?” He asked, his voice full of utter disbelief as he quickly skipped over to you and leaned over the counter. “We’re best friends? Really?” You tilted your head upwards so you could look at him from your seated position and you nodded your head in confirmation. “Of course we’re best friends, silly.” You replied to his question with a soft smile. Sun seemed to melt a little bit but you could tell he was vibrating with excitement.

“Best friends.. I’ve never had a real best friend before..” He said, his voice full of a wistful sort of whimsy as he began to sway from side to side. You scoffed at his words as you returned to counting out the register. “You’ve never had a real best friend before? I recall you telling many kids that you’re their best friend. Are you a liar, Sunshine?” You asked, gasping in mock disbelief as you dramatically placed a hand to your chest. If Sun could properly emote you were certain his eyes would be bulging out of his head at your words and it took everything in you not to burst out into a fit of laughter as he scrambled to correct himself. “No, no, no! I’m not a liar, I would never lie!” Sun screeched, bounding around as he waved his hands in front of him to deny your accusations. “This is different! I meant I never had a uhm.. A grown up best friend! Yes! That's what I meant!” He declared with a nod of his head and you couldn’t help but laugh a little at his antics. “Well Sun, I’m more than honored to be your first real grown up best friend.” You said with a shake of your head and yet another laugh.

Sun still seemed a little upset that you had accused him of being a liar but he went back to cleaning up the gift shop for you and you joined him after you were done with the cash register even though he insisted that you should rest and leave it all to him. You protested however and he shut up about you taking a break once you gave him a simple reminder. 

“That's what best friends are for.”

All of my writing is original work created by me. Please do not repost, translate, or alter them in any way.

[i-am-a-fan]

The best thing about the traffic light trio is that to me

Mei and Redson are stem/ engineers who have learned vast amounts of science, mathematics, and literature. With either one going to grad school.

To me? Mk is a college kid drop out.

Did he do his best? Always. Did he try to go for a stem degree? Mhm. Did he realize that he’d rather work under pigsy until he can save up enough money to go to art school? Yes.

So now most normal conversations are like:

Mei: I really wish i still remembered how to find the acid content using normal filtration devices. I need to check if i need to take my cycle to the shop…

Redson: Have you tried using a small amount and reacting it with a strong base? I have some old beakers lying around if you need them.

Mk:… Have you guys tried to imagine what a new color would look like?

and both Mei and Redson take this question so. so seriously. like. to the point where Mk has to step out of the room because they get into a heated debate about shrimp colors.

[accio-victuuri]

cpn time: yibo’s new songs 🎧

here we are, two songs and a bunch of short video clips later, but this post will be more about the lyrics. if you haven’t listened to the tracks then please enjoy bystander and everything is lovely first before anything else. i’m so thankful that wyb has kept his promise to fans of bringing us a new song every year and also performing it during nye. he may not be the most obvious when it comes to appreciating his fans but this is the best example of his commitment to sharing himself to fans and treating us.

i will start with some minor clues before we get into the lyrics and all that clowning interpretation. 🙇‍♀️

1. The first 3 photos that yibo-official released as soon as it turned 12:00, one of them was color pink, or you can say, very light shade of red. His photos released before had a more solid red like that from a traffic light but this one leans more towards pink.

A very nice choice of color knowing how he relates pink to being the color of love and and all the other symbolism we attached to it.

& when yibo posted it, he placed the pink one in the middle vs yibo-official’s who placed it on the right.

2. Same choice of words between their studios, especially with reference to the gap of time. We are definitely looking closer than a normal fan would when it comes to their studio’s captions, edits, posting time etc and to a normal fan this would just fly over their head. but the amount of coincidence between the two is too much!

3. QQ released parts of the lyrics and this one, the chorus of everything is lovely ( up to the part talking about love of coming home ), the word love was mentioned 23 times. Love Zhan. I mean, we all know this boys loves 2 and 3 😂😂😂

4. The timing of release for their projects this day. Another example of how they don’t overlap with the day or time. XZ’s marie claire was between 10-12 and then WYB stuff of course started coming out at 12:00. this follows their pattern 👀

5. I really like what this bxg discovered, the way everything is lovely was written, if you turn in upside down it may read wyb loves xz. 🤯🤯🤯

for those of us who have been subjected to xz’s artwork and the little things he hides, this should be believable to you. he is known to do these things, even without the cpn intention.

==================

BYSTANDER

I gotta say, i’m leaning more towards this song, i didn’t expect it! I just love how it sounds and i’m with those who felt nostalgic while listening to it. it seems familiar and brand new at the same time. The melody of the first few lines got me thinking of words ( bee gees ) and the guitar/drums played are excellent too! I hope he sings this with a live band please! 🙏🏼

I often watch, listen and feel like reaching out to touch.

Holding a handful of seawater to see it’s dreamlike color.

this is more of a song ( atleast to me ) that speaks of who WYB is as a person. a bystander/spectator/onlooker. he is someone who observes people and keeps quiet first before engaging. but that doesn’t mean he is indifferent, in this song, he talks about admiring the things around him.

i’m also thinking of a wish to be a bystander. XZ/WYB repeatedly said that the super power they wish to have in invisibility so they just roam around without people noticing them. in a way, it’s wyb’s ( and by extension xz ) wish to be able to do this.

Embrace all the joys and sorrows of life. Listen to the plucked feathers speak, wings aiming for the vast sky.

Watch a fallen leaf repeating until the four seasons bring it back to the branch. I cannot see another galaxy but believe in me in a more distant place.

i see this as basically yibo and zz’s view in life, they are willing to go through the good and bad. their lives may seem ideal because they are celebrities but it’s far from that so they just have to focus on the good.

Don’t ask me what i’m looking for, let life pass through.

it’s him just wanting to be left alone, to allow him to go through his life without people watching his every move. or maybe there isn’t anything he is looking for or aiming for, he is just enjoying and going through his life. This line speaks to me so much! There’s really no need to be constantly trying to achieve things and be exhausted by the end of it. Sometimes, it’s okay to sit back and enjoy the simple things.

EVERYTHING IS LOVELY

I have discussed this song before, especially the chorus that covers a lot of the CPNs. I feel the same way about my interpretation of those lines even after learning the lyrics of the whole song.

My hands, accustomed to patting my head, opening up the memory of the river and pond. There are always a few good friends by the side.

Listening to the cicadas, watching the fishing boats.

WYB who likes to pat his head as an example 😂 so this is really from his POV and a more personal touch to start this song.

Listening to the cicadas and watching the fishing boat? This paints a picture of them during CQL shoot and hanging out.

I’m cackling tho at bxg interpretation of the lines that talk about river & ponds and then him having friends on the side. So who are the friends by that pod? Turtles? LOL. 😂😂😂😂

How to distinguish between people, whether post-00s are young or very mature.

This is so WYB. Reminding us of when he always made a point to say that GG looks so young or that they have no age gap 🥹🥹🥹

Under the mud, lotus roots finally grown. Please, lotus flowers do not look back.

Lotus roots/ Lotus flowers. What a peculiar choice to include in the song. Maybe there is some deeper explanation here that has something to do with culture or what but as a clown, our minds went to CQL.

It’s a part of the story and who can forget that behind the scenes of WYB pulling out those lotus seeds for XZ? 🙃

I tightly hold on to the people i once lost.

I like the way some people have interpreted this line. If what we think is true, that they lost each other at some point after the cql shoot then this line makes sense. They had some time apart after that shoot and XZ went to Japan to clear his head. The people around them also encouraged to take this time away from each other and get out of character. But they still found their way back as XZ/WYB. 🤍

The main thing in this song tho is— everything is lovely because you (xz) are in everything. 😭😭😭😭

-END.

[threestarsaboveclouds]

hi tsac!! can you tell us a bit about your observatory?? what kind of observation equipment do you control? what data do you collect? are there any other iterators you talk to that are similarly searching the stars for solutions to the problem? do you have a favorite astronomical formation?

So many questions! I will answer them in sequence.

Firstly, I control a number of different telescopes. Most of my telescopes are located on the roof of my can, but I also have several at ground level in the southern quadrant of my facility grounds. They each have different functions.

I have two optical telescopes at the top of my city’s observatory spire- these were primarily used by researchers to study specific objects, as they have a very narrow and detailed field of view.

The largest of my telescopes is my main survey telescope. This telescope has a very broad view and catalogues the positions of celestial objects across the entire sky every few nights. My survey telescope’s data comprise the vast majority of the pearls in my archives, and reduction of this data takes the longest.

On roof level I also have an array of radio dishes and microwave telescopes- these offer me a different view of the night sky than those offered by my optical telescopes, because they are able to detect different wavelengths of light.

There are about a dozen smaller optical observatories scattered throughout my city- these were primarily used by my citizens for teaching and recreational purposes. In their absence I have been using them for my own personal research.

Below my can, at the southern base of the mountain, are most of my radio telescopes. There are several arrays, as well as one large stationary radio dish located in the Temple Sector of my facility grounds. This section of my facility was primarily used by my citizens for ritual purposes- only the highest echelons of the clergy were allowed to approach the temple, meaning this area saw very little foot traffic and interference from radio communications. This allowed my nearby radio telescopes to sit undisturbed.

The array is far enough from my can to be mostly unaffected by the severe rain and snow I produce. The mountain peak also blocks most transmissions from the communications spire to the north, making the temple sector an ideal location for my main radio arrays. I still have to filter out the inevitable radio communications from my distant neighbors, though these signals are growing weaker over time….

Answering your second question about the data I collect: to put it simply, I collect… everything. Images, light curves, spectra, redshift and blueshift... the list goes on. My numerous telescopes generate vast amounts of raw stellar data, which then needs to be reduced and analyzed. After this process, if any trends stand out in the data, it is moved to my archives for further study.

My research focuses on changes in the night sky- monitoring the evolution of the celestial spheres was the primary reason for my construction. The stellar firmament is not static as those long ago believed- it is a living, changing thing. Such changes are hard to notice within the lifetimes of my benefactors, but become apparent on the timescales we iterators are familiar with. Perhaps studying the sky can reveal something about the Cycle. Maybe the Cycle, like the firmament, is not completely immutable.

@the-maddest-robot

I don’t have any space telescopes myself; my instruments are all ground-based. I only have direct access to the instruments located in and around my superstructure. However, there are some others within my field of study who do have space-based instruments. To name a few… Bright Crown, Habitually Stargazing, Quarks Untold, Hollow Intercession, Falling Space, All Mundane Order Towards Unawakened Discovery....

As for other astronomy-focused iterators… there are a few dozen others in my field of study. (This may seem like a large number, but it is a tiny fraction when compared to the demographics of the entire iterator population. My field is rather niche.)

Along with those I mentioned above, I am also familiar with the work of Twelve Endless Nights, Gazing Upon the Stars, Futile Persuit, A Gaze Into the Night Sky, and Firmament of No Stars, among others. We exchange data in our working groups occasionally. Though, I can't say I know any of them personally...

And finally... my favorite astronomical formation? I am quite fond of the constellation known as The Hunter. Within this constellation is a row of three bright stars, which according to mythology, are a string of pearls worn by the Hunter around their waist. These stars are referenced in a poem from the late Green hegemonic dynasty:

"...atop the mountain we saw the Hunter's glittering belt, three stars above clouds piercing the dark of the firmament aloft..."

This poem later became the basis for my own designation, Three Stars Above Clouds.

[ OOC: The iterators mentioned belong to, in order: @singularscissor , @kociamieta , @the-colossal , @enneegon , @overgrownmoon , @darkkeng , @charlie-jpeg , @luminumarashi , and @miikrowelle. I hope you don't mind; I wanted TSAC to mention other iterators in their field and I picked a few astronomy-related iterators that came to mind. Let me know if you don’t want to be mentioned and I’ll remove the tag. ]

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

I'm the anon who asked that one ask you didn't make. Let me rephrase that, just in case the first one was too much.

How about the M6 who saw MC burying their head underwater when they cry? MC has this habit of hiding their problems and always keeps a strong persona in front of everybody. But when they breakdown, they go to a stream, a lake, the bathhouse, whatever place that has bodies of water so that they can put their head in the water and scream out their tears and inner conflicts. Because when they do this, nobody can hear them cry underwater.

Hopefully this one is more acceptable than the other one. Thanks, Brainrot. I'll try to be more considerate for the others :)

Hi anon,

I want to be clear from the beginning of this that what I'm saying is not coming from a place of anger or hate. Rather, there's been a small but growing trend in my inbox lately that I want to address, and this request is one of the clearest examples of it. I intend no harm against you and I'm not requesting any kind of apology, I'd just like to give some boundary reminders.

I understand your frustration with your first request not getting written. The opportunity to have content for a favorite set of characters custom made to your ideas is exciting! Much of the time that it doesn't happen, it's because there's more mini-hcs in the inbox than I can write, or it's because due to the amount of traffic through it some of the asks get lost. (I still write well over 90% of the prompts that come in, though, which is how my current posting output is roughly 2 full headcanons, a Vesvuvia Weekly prompt, and 21 mini headcanons a week!) It's why I usually don't mind receiving a request a second time in case there wasn't space for the first one ^.^

However, I still have the right to pick what I do and don't write. While my guidelines are written with the comfort and safety of my readers in mind, they are primarily there as my own personal boundaries. Writing about things like waterboarding, torture, child abuse and neglect, toxic relationships etc. without a context of healing, recovery, and personal growth is and always has been off the table. I chose not to write your earlier, more extreme prompt because it would violate the boundaries I outlined in my pinned post, and I'm choosing not to write this one either for the same reasons. I don't judge you for wanting to consume content with those themes (we all have our tastes, and that's okay!) but I'm not going to compromise my own boundaries or mental health to write something that's meant to be a free gift of my own creativity. There are other authors you can ask for those themes who would be happy to provide.

I don't bring this up often because I don't want to ruin the chill vibes, but I do in fact do this for free. I clock easily 30+ hours of work a week putting content on this blog alongside my full time job - and that is work that I am happy to do! I'm privileged enough to do this without needing to monetize it, and I find my reward in being able to share my writing with people, make friends, and create joy where I can. Even if I did depend on this for my livelihood, that still wouldn't entitle anyone to my services. I'm immensely grateful to the people who send me their ideas and support my work and give me feedback, but the work I do for the people on my page is out of joy and love, not obligation.

For the few anonymous requesters who send me prompts with disturbing content outside my guidelines, I understand that not everyone has an interest in checking my boundaries (listed in my pinned post) first. I'm not angry about that. However, I in turn have no interest in writing for requests that disregard those boundaries. Those requests are not entitled to being fulfilled or responded to.

To the vast majority of my readers and requesters, thank you!! Your ideas are a constant source of creative delight and your feedback and interest and joy light up my page. You guys are the best and have a special place in my heart :)

Cheers,

brainrot

[dailyoverview]

A turbine interchange connects the SR 9A and SR 202 in Jacksonville, Florida, USA. Also known as a whirlpool interchange, this structure consists of left-turning ramps sweeping around a center interchange, thereby creating a spiral pattern of right-hand traffic. This type of junction is rarely built, due to the vast amount land that is required to construct the sweeping roads.

30.253056°, -81.516194°

Source imagery: Maxar

[munsonfunken]

A MAN WITHOUT LOVE . STEVEN GRANT

Pairing: Steven Grant x Gender neutral!Reader

Summary: Your path crosses Steven Grant's an unexpectedly amount of times.

Word count: 2.6k

Notes: This is a repost, since I deleted my old blog! So, I tried something different when it comes to the first interaction between the characters. I feel that everytime I write something that involves a first interaction between the characters, it follows the same script, so I tried to make it rather awkward and confusing for both of them. Keep in mind that English isn’t my first language. Sorry in advance for any mistakes. Enjoy!

If you prefer to read on AO3, here it is!

If you want to take a look at my other writings, here they are!

The first time you became aware of Steven Grant’s existence was on the morning bus to work. Reminiscences of the stormy night rested scattered throughout London. During the walk to the bus station, the damp sidewalks bore leaves, twigs, and puddles, and during the ride, the bus vast windows were slightly foggy. A breath of fresh air invaded the bus when its double door opened, and, along with it, three people hopped on. Steven Grant, hurriedly crossing the street, was the last one. Nearly missing the bus, he breathlessly climbed the steps and awkwardly thanked the driver before maneuvering himself inside the crowded bus. He firmly grasped a blue vacuum bottle in his right hand, and a Rubik’s cube in his left one. An intrigued expression rose to your features. A Rubik’s cube. When was the last time you had seen one?

Accompanying his movements amongst the standing people, your eyes wandered from the colorful object to his shabby grey jacket, to his left shoulder, to his brown bag, to his neck, to his jawline, to his rather disheveled jet-black hair, and to his features. Steven Grant looked exhausted. In fact, he looked distinctly careworn. And, of course, late to wherever he was heading. Well, he was particularly late on that dull, blustery, and cloudy morning. Donna Kraft would not be happy. But… When was she? The same callous speech tumbled from her lips ever since Steven set foot in the National Art Gallery.

Routine.

And, at the end of the day, Steven would run Staying Awake on his smartphone – “Hello, and welcome to Staying Awake!” –, dive in books, solve the Rubik’s cube, teach himself Hieroglyphs, enjoy French poems, and, when his organism collapsed in tiredness, he would tie his ankle to the bed, and close his eyes only to open them on the following morning feeling like he had been hit by a bus. Everyday. Dazzled by daylight and dogged by confusion, he would suspiciously scrutinize his surroundings for, yet again, his sleep had been disturbed by far-fetched experiences. Then, it would dawn on him that he hadn’t been woken up by any alarm, and he would desperately search for the digital clock, which registered that he was, well, late, and that the alarm had gone off earlier. On that dull, blustery, and cloudy morning, Steven Grant was later than ever, and out of luck.

His organism refused to function, and he kept drowsing on people’s shoulders, receiving nonplussed glares and obnoxious shoves. He was much too prim to get his own back on people, so he muttered “good morning” and, although useless, sipped the coffee inside the blue vacuum bottle in a desperate attempt to force his organism to function properly. The dewy-eyed innocence Steven Grant bore stirred a sensation of embarrassment towards him.

The second time you became aware of Steven Grant’s existence was on the walk home from The London Library. Three books were clutched against your right hipbone, and you fumbled with them as you hurriedly piled them up descending the stony steps to the sidewalk. The wind blew silently, digging its way through leaves, branches, and trunks. A crack of sky was visible between the thin leaves above. It was the navy-blue of the ocean, and the din of the traffic annoyingly ringed inside your skull. Nonetheless, the walk home was reinvigorating.

Turning into a relatively silent street, the soft buzz of conversation replaced the din of the traffic. The sidewalk ahead was tinted in the usual pink lightning coming from the pink lit restaurant that marked three quarters of the walk home. As usual, the tables placed outside the restaurant were occupied by couples, except for one of them. It was occupied by a hunched lone man. His features slid in and out of sight as the branches of overhanging trees broke the moonlight. The other tables were laden with food and wine bottles, but his was nearly empty. As you approached the restaurant, your eyesight registered missed details.

A pink heart-shaped box and a bouquet of flowers rested on the white tablecloth. Uh, cheesy. Your eyes wandered from the box to his black jacket, to his fidgety hands, to his pursed lips, to his frowned features, to his combed jet-black hair, to – Wait. Steven Grant sat alone, listlessly staring at a steak in his plate. A leaden sensation was settling in the pit of his stomach. He looked a forlorn figure sitting at a table originally destined for a couple. Wait. How… Hm, well, what were the odds?

He nervously gulped and unwillingly grasped the silver fork resting on the tablecloth. The table in front of him was occupied by two women who were deeply chatting while two boys played nearby, laughing mirthfully. They ran towards his table and the women calling after them pulled Steven out of his misery. He abashedly blinked, exchanging an apologetic look with them, which prompted him to hurriedly pull the heart-shaped box to his lap, underneath the tablecloth. He seemed not to register the bouquet of flowers, since he didn’t try to hide it.

Your feet were rooted to the sidewalk and your features bore a rapt expression observing the events unfolding before your eyes. The pink lightning created a pathetic aura around him. A sudden, almost desperate compassion for Steven Grant burnt inside your vessels. Your fingers dig into the books, painfully pressing them against your hipbone.

The third time you became aware of Steven Grant’s existence was on a visit to the National Art Gallery. The Egyptian exhibition had been inaugurated weeks prior, and, even though everything you knew about its culture had been absorbed from Rick Riordan’s The Kane Chronicles when you were, hm, 14 years old, the propaganda bearing Egyptian deities convinced you to pay a visit. The vast museum rooms were way too packed for a Saturday evening, but you managed to find your way amongst the crowd. The exhibition was impressive. Its details completely enthralled you, to the point where the robotic voice announcing the museum closure in an hour revealed that you spent way too much time appreciating the exhibition pieces for someone who had been educated solely by The Kane Chronicles.

“And this is the last room of the day. We’ll be done in a minute, I promise! I know my voice is quite annoying.” An excited voice echoed in the room, catching people’s attention, including yours. Oh…

There was Steven Grant. He wore a crumpled blue jacket, to which a silver tag had been attached. From where you stood, it was impossible to read it, but you presumed it identified him as a museum employee. So, he was a tour guide. That was, in fact, lovely. He accompanied five visitors, to whom he gesticulated expansively. His eyes gleamed in genuine joyousness, his hands carefully yet firmly pointed to artifacts, and his feet glided throughout the room in an adorable choreography.

He seemed completely fulfilled spilling his excitement regarding Ancient Egypt to those visitors. Other people’s ears prickled at Steven’s explanations, and so did yours. Well, you read the tags attached to each exhibition piece, but, honestly, it was endearing to observe him, to listen to him, to become aware of his existence. It was odd to observe him in such contrasting situations. You could hardly believe the man before your eyes was the same man that kept drowsing on people’s shoulders on the morning bus to work or the same man that sat alone with a pink heart-shaped box and a bouquet of flowers at a pink lit restaurant.

Steps echoed at the room entrance. A blonde woman in a blue suit appeared and glared at Steven. A pink chewing gum rolled inside her mouth.

“Oh, Donna, hello!” Steven waved at her, but she expressed no intention to answer him. “Meet Donna Kraft, my boss! Excuse me for a second, yeah? I hope none of the exhibition pieces has come to life!” He turned to the visitors gathered around him, who laughed at the Night at the Museum reference, and, with a polite gesture, excused himself.

Beaming with delight at his, uh, joke, your eyes followed his figure, which shamefacedly gesticulated with the blonde woman. She seemed determined to sustain her argument, and, for a millisecond, Steven was the same man that kept drowsing on people’s shoulders on the morning bus to work or the same man that sat alone with a pink heart-shaped box and a bouquet of flowers at a pink lit restaurant. His genuine joyousness seemed to have been nonchalantly crumpled and carelessly thrown into the nearest bin. Donna Kraft simpered and traipsed from the room.

“Right, where were we?” Steven muttered more to himself than to the people still gathered around ancient, tarnished garden tools.

Something seemed to tauten in his face, and it became stony, but he managed to give a wan smile towards the crowd. He had resumed speaking, and you registered his mouth moving, but not the words leaving it. For a brief second, his voice got mixed with the robotic voice announcing the museum closure in thirty minutes. There the almost desperate compassion for Steven Grant was. Again. It was too much mistreatment to witness. What was the Universe’s intention forcing your path to cross his not one, but three times? An urge to leave the room – and, well, to ignore Steven Grant’s existence – burnt inside your vessels, but your feet remained rooted to the marble floor.

“Steven”. The silver tag attached to the crumpled jacket read “Steven”. It shone under the spotlights strategically lightning the exhibition pieces. “Steven”. The name almost involuntarily rolled from your lips. Well, the man that kept drowsing on people’s shoulders on the morning bus to work, sat alone with a pink heart-shaped box and a bouquet of flowers at a pink lit restaurant and spilled his excitement regarding the Egyptian culture was not a stranger anymore.

He waved at the people gathered around them, and the movement caught your attention. “Uh, thank you so much for sticking around. It’s been wonderful to accompany you through the exhibition. I hope it was entertaining!” A timid smile accompanied the mirthful words. The robotic voice announced the museum closure in fifteen minutes. “Well, the museum closes shortly, but feel free to explore this room or other rooms for a bit longer. And if you have any questions, find me in the gift shop in the entrance hall.” Then, he left the room. The gift shop. In the entrance hall. Well, you had a question. Not about the exhibition. And, for the first time, you knew where to find Steven Grant to ask it.

You made a beeline for the museum entrance hall. Visitors, parents mostly, waited in line to buy stuffed animals for their children. When you approached the gift shop, two employees hurriedly talked to visitors in an attempt to extinguish the line, but Steven peaceably paced around. He leaned over the showcase counter with a stuffed hippopotamus in hand and talked to a girl through the toy in a goofy manner. She laughed, reached for it, and ran away. Then, Steven turned to, apparently, the girl’s mother, laughed at something she uttered and pushed a card machine towards her. The delightful sound accompanied by crinkles around his eyes brought a grin to your lips, and you could not help but stare at his adorable being. Oh, heaven.

Absentmindedly circling the model of the Great Pyramid of Giza and other exhibition pieces, you patiently waited for the people to leave, but, as the movement in the entrance hall diminished, you considered remaining anonymous. Why the urge to ask him how he was? And… How awkward would it be to approach a stranger and suddenly ask how he was? Where did the question come from? Well, you were certainly not revealing that you had kept an eye on him on the morning bus to work, on the walk home from the library, on a visit to the National Art Gallery. It would be even more awkward, right? You stared at your faint reflection in the protective glass surrounding a sarcophagus. Yeah, how awkward would it be? Your eyes wandered from the top of your head to the tip of your shoes. And it dawned on you.

Suddenly.

Unexpectedly.

Shamefully.

Oh…

You wanted him to know that you were aware of his existence. You wanted him to know that you felt sorry for him. You wanted him to know that you cared for him. Breathe. You stared at your own eyes. Because you were infatuated with him. With a stranger.

No, wait.

Not a stranger. With a man who was particularly late to wherever he was heading on that dull, blustery, and cloudy morning. With a man who was unexpectedly alone at a pink lit restaurant. With a man who was completely fulfilled spilling his excitement regarding Ancient Egypt. Not a stranger.

“Uh, excuse me.”

There was Steven Grant. Your eyes focused on the sarcophagus. Then, on his reflection. Beside yours.

“Steven,” Startled by the sudden appearance, the name slipped from your lips. An unknown warmth burnt inside his vessels. His name. What a luxury inside a place in which Steven Grant was invisible except to receive the same callous speech tumbling from Donna Kraft’s lips. “I read the silver tag during the tour. Sorry.”

“Yeah, yeah. Thank you,” Steven earnestly mumbled in an attempt to indirectly argue you were needlessly apologizing. “And I’m deeply sorry to interrupt, but we’re closing.”

You nodded. “By the way, thank you for the tour.”

“Yeah,” He awkwardly laughed. A puzzled expression rose to your features. “I, uh… I actually work on the gift shop.”

“Oh–”

“Yeah, Donna, my boss, the blonde woman, was not supposed to discover–”

“Scotty.”

Your attention was captured by the voice echoing around the nearly empty room. So was Steven’s. A security guard paced towards your direction, and you noticed he was, well, actually talking to the man beside you. The puzzled expression returned to your features, and your eyes wandered from the security guard to Steven.

“Steven, J.B., with a ‘V’.”

“Yeah,” He brazenly dismissed the correction to tap the digital clock attached to his wrist with the end of a black lantern.

“I believe that will be on me. I had a question about this piece.” You politely smiled to the security guard. “Sorry for the disturbance.”

J.B. suspiciously nodded, scrutinizing your figure from the top of your head to the tip of your shoes, and returned to the chair behind the large televisions playing innumerous live footages of diverse museum locations.

“Thank you,” Steven, again, awkwardly laughed. “I’m staying the night for escaping the gift shop. I certainly did not want to stay another one. I hope none of the exhibition pieces comes to life!”

“Yeah, no problem.” You faintly smiled at the repeated joke. Not because it wasn’t funny, but because it masked utter sadness. You were right. Steven seemed completely fulfilled spilling his excitement regarding Ancient Egypt to visitors, because he definitely wasn’t. Stay the night? For touring with visitors? He was strangely treated as a child who needed severe punishment for, uh, accidentally knocking crayons when drawing. Your eyes overflowed pity. “I’m sorry, Steven.”

And you were. You were sorry for him. You were sorry for the unfairness. You were sorry for the mistreatment. You were sorry for the sadness. You were sorry for the loneliness. You were sorry.

“Don’t, yeah? I don’t need your pity.”

And he was right. He was right. You looked at him in rueful regret and gave him a sheepish smile. “Sorry.”

“I-I-I did not mean to be rude, I–”

“I know, Steven.” You reassured him. He was not rude at all. He was right. He didn’t need your pity. Or anyone else’s. He needed a hand. He needed a friend. “I should leave, or else J.B. is arresting me for trespassing. Goodbye.”

For now.

PLEASE, CONSIDER REBLOGGING THIS AND/OR GIVING ME FEEDBACK, I WOULD APPRECIATE IT A LOT!

[linkablewritingadvice]

Self Publishing Promotion Advice

Once you’ve self-published a book, it can be frustrating to try and get eyes on it. How do you direct traffic to your book on Amazon or any other platform?

What NOT To Do

Never pay for “book promo” accounts or reviews.

These accounts do not attract followers that want to buy or read books in any specific genre, and they don’t curate the books they post. They do not send meaningful traffic to your book. They are a scam and a waste of money. 

More info:

Questions To Ask Book Promoters on Instagram

Book Promotion Instagram Scams

Never post a link to your book in an online group or forum without EXPLICIT permission.

The vast majority of forums, subreddits, discords, etc. for writers are constantly getting spammed by people promoting their books. Typically, this is against the rules of that community. Posting in a community in a way that violates their rules is not a good way to build recognition for your name and work. Also, you are not likely to find people who want to read your specific book by shotgun blasting your link around the internet. 

Many places do have weekly self-promo threads or other specific opportunities for writers to self-promote. Look for those and be sure to read and follow all their rules. But know that there is still a very small chance that you will find a meaningful number of readers in the population of people who happen to be skimming these self-promo threads, especially ones that are not genre specific. 

Don’t push friends and family to buy and review your book.

If people who don’t frequently read and buy books in a certain genre all visit your book’s listing right when it launches, it can confuse the algorithm and keep your book from being shown to the right people. Any money you make off people buying your book out of personal obligation will never amount to much and is not a good use of people’s time, money, or good will. 

What TO Do

Make sure your book is attractive

Good cover art and a strong tagline and blurb are critical. No amount of ads, links, swaps, etc. will help you if, once you get that visibility, people don’t like what they see. 

Look at the books that are the top sellers in your categories on Amazon. Notice trends and patterns in their covers and blurbs. Do research on what makes a strong blurb. Many online writing communities will give feedback on blurbs (be sure to read and follow their rules before posting!). 

There are a lot of free resources and courses out there on how to write a compelling blurb. Here are a few to get started:

Reedsy article

Fix My Story

Blue Ink Review

You can also hire a professional cover artist or someone with expertise in your genre to help you with your blurb.

Learn Amazon and Facebook/Meta ads

Amazon and Facebook ads are some of the most powerful ways to get your book seen by people who are likely to be interested. Like any powerful tool, there is a learning curve when it comes to making them work for you. But time spent learning this tool will ultimately be MUCH more effective than just about anything else you could try.

There are lots of people out there selling courses and books on how to use Amazon and Meta ads. My recommendation is that you start with freely available resources and then decide whether you have specific questions or want professional advice in specific areas. Some people understand the data and analytics dashboards but need help writing ad copy that drives clicks while others might need help understanding how to target ads or evaluate their success.

You can watch videos about it, like this one from Michael La Ronn or this one from David Gaughran. 

Or you can follow written tutorials, like this one at Kindlepreneur, this one from Jane Friedman, or this one from Written Word Media.

Start reading and searching around and learn as much as you can. When you are confused about something or find a gap in your knowledge, search for videos or articles that address that particular issue. 

When it comes to paid courses, I have personally enjoyed the Ad School course from Bryan Cohen, and I’ve also heard good things about Mark Dawson’s courses. The Self Publishing Titans have pretty great SEO, for what that’s worth. Always check out someone’s free resources and look at reviews of their course on other platforms before dropping big bucks.

Use Author-Specific Platforms To Attract Readers & Get Reviews

There are a number of websites that cater specifically to self published authors trying to connect with readers. Many of them work by letting you offer free review copies to readers who are interested in your genre. They read your book for free, then post a review on Amazon, Goodreads, or wherever else you want them to do so.

These sites do not guarantee readers or purchases just by doing the bare minimum - they are tools to use, and you need to learn how to use them effectively for your purposes. Read their documentation. Join the site as a reader to see what things look like from the other side.

These types of websites often cost money for premium features. Try noodling around with their free version before deciding whether it will be worth it. 

Some websites in this vein to check out:

BookSprout

BookSirens

NetGalley

Reedsy Discovery

Run a BookBub ad or promotion

BookBub is a specific website that lets people browse for books on sale. You can run ads on BookBub or use their platform to promote a sale on your book. More here: BookBub Promotion Tools

Use A Free Reader Magnet To Build A Mailing List

The website BookFunnel lets you upload a free book (or novella, or short story, etc.) that people get to download in exchange for joining your email list. This is called a lead magnet or a reader magnet. If you have a good reader magnet with an attractive cover and blurb, and you join the right swaps and promos, you can very quickly build a mailing list. 

Fun tip: Since having a cool, genre-appropriate cover is key for this, one thing I like to do for a lead magnet is browse through pre-made covers, buy one I like, then write a novella that fits that cover!

Once your lead magnet is up on BookFunnel, you can use their platform to join “swaps” or “group promos,” where your book is promoted by other people or in conjunction with other similar books. You can also post a link to your mailing list signup/book download page on your own social media or wherever else makes sense.

There are other websites that let you do this too - many of the author promo websites linked above have similar features - but I’ve only used BookFunnel, and I find it very easy to use. 

You will also need to use a general newsletter platform like MailChimp to connect to your account, but I find it pretty simple to understand once you’re setting things up. And then, of course, once you’ve built a mailing list, you have to use it effectively!

Resources:

The Ultimate Lead Magnet Guide

How To Use BookFunnel Like A Boss (video)

How To Start & Grow Your Mailing List

Grow An Organic Social Media Presence

This is a tough one, but for some people, can be pretty fun. Figure out which social media platform has the most active readers in your genre - Facebook, Instagram, or TikTok, probably, but different genre readerships tend to congregate on different ones. Look at the social media of successful self published and traditionally published authors in your genre. See what they’re doing and figure out what’s working. Then do that. 

Follow and interact with readers and writers in your genre. Create catchy content that fits the vibe of what is working on your feed. Use analytics tools to improve. 

There are lots of tools and guides out there to using social media, from gaming the algorithm, using the best hashtags and keywords, posting at the ideal times, and creating the most ‘viral’ content. You can use a program like Canva to create images and videos. 

You can go deep down the social media rabbit hole. There are third party services and platforms that let you post different content and compare its performance. The best thing to do is tons of research, then noodle around with the different dashboards and tools available.

How Successful Authors Use Social Media

The Ultimate Social Media Guide for Writers

Social Media Writer Guide

Of course, those links above just scratch the surface of what’s out there. Start working on this, and you’ll soon discover what you need to figure out. Then search for tutorials or guides on that. 

Hire Marketing Help

If you are struggling with marketing your book and want to hire a marketing professional specifically to help with this, there are people out there who will lend their expertise to you in exchange for some money. 

Know exactly what you want to hire for - design and copywriting to create effective content? One-on-one coaching and tutoring for you on understanding the back-end of running Amazon ads? A pre-packaged ad campaign they’ll run for you?

Be careful that you are hiring a professional with credentials in exactly what you are trying to do - run Amazon ads, build an Instagram following, create frequent click-worthy videos, etc. Do not fall for scammy “publishing services.” Check someone out on Writer Beware and/or look for reviews on other websites (not just theirs!) Ask to see work they’ve done for other clients and their data on how well it worked. 

You could look for a social media marketing company like this one or this one  - search for digital marketing or social media marketing -, or an author-specific one like the ones listed here. These are all just examples - I don’t vouch for any of these and have never used any of them. 

[armpirate]

Kalla | Choi San || Chapter 18

MASTERLIST Previous || Next

Pairings: CEO!San x fem!reader

Genre: smut, angst, fluff, strangers to lovers.

Warnings: dom!San, sub!reader, voyeourism, use of sex toys, bondage, dirty talk, BDSM, exhibitionism, rough sex.

Summary: She was surprised by how fast her life went from the perfect fairytale to the destructive mess it had turned into. Dealing with a cheater ex boyfriend, having to move out to a different place because the house she lived in belonged to that man she once dreamed of spending the rest of her life with, while continuously being underappreciated at work... It was as if life was telling her to stop dreaming big, to go back to her small town, Bibury, and help her parents run the small farm her family had owned for decades.

At least until she received a call from her friend.

A sudden vacancy as an assistant showed up on one of her friend's system, having her being encouraged to take that big step and apply for it. She had no hopes for it. Mainly because she didn't have any experience on the field, and she didn't comply with most of the requirements that were added on the offer -and which most of them sounded ridiculous and exaggerated for the position, making her wonder who was the freak who needed so many guidelines in order to hire someone to pick up the phone and schedule events. 

Although that hotel she'd be working on was much more than anything she could've come up with. 

Choi San wasn't someone easy to deal with. After his previous assistant presented his resignation letter on his desk, he felt forced to start the whole selection process again -after merely two months. 

Sure that he was being way too strict, enough to find that anyone who applied for the position wasn't enough, he asked one of his friends to be in charge of the interviews and the selection of the most adequate candidate. 

Little did he know Wooyoung would hire the imperfectly perfect candidate for him, sure that she'd help him in many ways other than just in dealing with the responsibilities of his position. 

A new challenge will come their way as soon as she steps inside the hotel. 

Y/n will have to learn how to mold onto him and deal with all his small habits and requirements, and San will find himself trying to open up and let out all those same things that turned him into the person he was. 

The more she digs in Kalla and all of its secrets and exciting corners, the deeper she'll dive into San's heart and soul... Although, maybe, she won't be able to take it. 

Kalla opens its doors to you, sharing the vast amount of filthy and erotic plans it offers, and that you can join with a partner... Or maybe just by yourself. 

Hope you enjoy your stay.

Chapter duration: 16 minutes

Chapter warnings: smut, dirty talk, explicit content, female masturbation, oral sex (female and male receiving), teasing, dom!San

As the car glided through the neon-lit streets of the city, the world outside was a blur of colors and motion. Towering buildings adorned with vibrant advertisements and glowing signs loomed on either side, their reflections dancing on the sleek surface of the vehicle. The hum of traffic and distant city sounds filled the air, blending into a symphony of urban life, making her aware how she had never been around that area despite living there for more than a month.

Inside the car, the atmosphere was thick with tension. San was gripping the steering wheel a little tighter than usual, with his eyes fixed on the road as he avoided glancing to his right. There sat Y/n, her eyes fixed on the passing scenery, the flickering lights painting a kaleidoscope of emotions across her face.

Her breath was still a bit unsteady, the adrenaline of the encounter slowly ebbing away as they drove further from the scene, and her heart ached with a mix of concern. The silence between them was heavy, making her sink deeper in her seat.

The city around them seemed indifferent to their plight, its relentless energy a stark contrast to the turmoil inside the car. As they continued down the bustling avenue, San finally turned to her, her eyes searching for reassurance, which he for sure gave. His jaw was clenched when he looked away again, wondering how many limits that man would cross just to see a person who clearly didn't want to see him.

Y/n's lip parted, ghosting her gratitude in the air when she took back any attempt, licking her lips before looking down at her lap.

—I won't take you home today —he let her know, earning a glance from her—. It's obvious why, so I won't explain my decision further than your ex boyfriend, who you didn't tell where you lived, was waiting for you. Did your friends tell him?

—My friends? —Y/n scoffed, looking through the window— They'd eat their tongues before making it so easy for him to find me. And it's not like they or my family know where I live.

Despite feeling pleased at her answer, there was something else making him feel uneasy. There was one way he could've got all that information from, but he didn't want to think about that possibility. Mainly because it'd mean another breach in security he didn't want to have to deal with.

He drove past all the lights and hustle, getting to a calmer area with smaller houses -that were, at most, three floors tall. As he reached his house, the speed of his car got slower to be able to park inside the garage to his place.

After such an intense event, Y/n thanked the calm and silence in that area.

The quiet elegance of the apartment was completely in sync with the calmness that radiated in his neighborhood.

The pristine white marble floor, separated from the wooden floor at the entrance, glistened under the soft, recessed lighting as soon as they set foot across the door. Before she could even attempt to take off her heels, San moved first, kneeling in front of her to take them off with such delicacy that all the hairs in her body raised with the soft touch of his thumb on her sole. And he put on her some slippers with the same delicacy, getting up to gesture to her to come inside.

Looking at her left, she noticed the small kitchen, unified by the open plan of his house to the living room. She didn't know where to stay, or whether she should sit on the sofa as she put her eyes on the plush white sectional sofa that sat against a white wall -instantly thinking of hugging to one of the pink and yellow cushions placed in the middle.

—Do you want something to drink? —he calmly asked.

There was a stark contrast in how intimidated she felt by the situation, and how warm San seemed while speaking to her.

—Water, please.

She couldn't recognize herself. She didn't act that way, not even when she started dating Andy. She had never been the type to feel intimidated by men, but there was something in San's aura that brought out her most fragile side. And as much as he tried to deny it, there was something in her that also made a break in his personality, although he found it easier to blame it on how much time had passed since he was in that type of situation.

Y/n held onto the glass of water he offered to her as if it were a life jacket, holding it tight with both hands while her feet played with the edge of the gray shag rug that was placed under the oval coffee table in front of her.

All confidence vanished away when she was able to feel his warmth connecting from his knee to hers, almost touching each other.

—Did you like what happened in the restaurant? —he casually asked, hopping his eyes on her after one blink.

Her body jumped, breaking the trance, when he opened the can with one hand, without looking at it.

—Well, it was new —she admitted.

It was the first time she allowed herself to free her body that way. It was a new experience, but such a satisfactory experience that she didn't know how to handle it.

—It being described as new doesn't give me the answer I was asking for —San immediately responded—. Y/n, did you like it? It's alright if you say no.

What was she so scared of? She liked it, and she was dying to repeat it all over again -to the point of thinking of the next big thing to get herself back in trouble. San wasn't going to judge her, he was indeed interested in her opinion, waiting patiently for her answer. He didn't even lay a hand on her since they arrived, trying to confirm again they both were on the same page.

—I did like it —she whispered—. It felt like... It was something I shouldn't have liked, but... It was satisfying relying on you, and knowing there was nothing bad coming out of it.

Her answer was even better than whatever he could've come up with, showing off the dimple on his left cheek as he grinned.

There was no more evidence needed other than how she played with her fingers over the curve of her glass, while she tried to think of her answer. Their relationship needed communication strictly, which meant she needed to be vocal of what she liked and how she liked it, and it was something she wasn't used to.

—Good job, sugar —he nodded.

His thumb traced the curve of her chin, feeling it moving as she gulped thick before he linked their lips together. For a second, as he got lost in her scent and her soft lips, San forgot he was the one rewarding her for doing exactly what he asked. And how she immediately answered to the kiss, sucking on his lower lip, had him thinking of throwing away all those plans he had made in the short span of times they had been in his house. He was willing to fuck her right there with no seconds thoughts, but his rational side knocked him off for it.

—Come with me —he whispered, moving his head back to break the kiss to leave their lips millimeters from each other.

At first she didn't react. At least until San got up, offering his hand to her so she could take it. Her lips were pressed tight when her fingers got in contact with his rough skin, holding onto him as she got up from the couch, and followed him through the short corridor at their right.

There weren't many rooms, it wasn't a huge house, but it still reeked of sophistication and mystery which she liked.

—Are you going to show me your playroom? —Y/n joked.

If books had taught her anything, it was that she was living the scene where the main character was shocked at the filthy decoration from one of the rooms.

—That's what the Spadix is for —he grimaced, momentarily turning to her, and stopping in front of one of the doors.

The Spadix gave him that freedom. He didn't have to bring anyone home for that. He didn't need to worry about seeing that person the morning after. And when it came to toys, he had all he needed there -even if he kept some accessories in his place just in case he'd use them.

And thank god he did have them there.

As he opened the door, he allowed Y/n to go in first. The pristine white on the walls gave it a sense of calmness, in contrast with the large, inviting bed in the middle of the room, dressed in a combination of soft gray and black linens that she was dying to roll over. And, opposite to what she imagined, the bed's headboard wasn't made of black bars to keep her chained there, it was upholstered in a light gray fabric, going along the relaxing vibes of the rest of the room.

The black door closed behind him, with San dangerously stepping towards her. One lock of her hair was placed behind her ear so subtly that she thought she'd melt.

—Do you know what I've been dying to do since I learned it was you the one in the Spadix? —he leaned closer to her— Fucking you without a mask on. I want to see your expression when you crumble from pleasure. See your fucked out face as I keep pounding into you. I want to see every detail of you.

Y/n was thankful she didn't have her heels on anymore, because she was sure she'd have lost her balance as her legs went momentarily weak with his words.

—Get naked and kneel on the rug —he demanded.

Despite shock freezing her body, she found a way to react fast.

With every piece of fabric that fell next to her feet, her heart sank deeper in her chest with anticipation. It wasn't how exposed she felt, or how she was about to get completely naked in front of a still clothed San while she pulled from the elastic of her pink panties, it was the way he rolled the sleeves of his white shirt while he looked at her. Or how he had such a confident aura that had her feeling small in seconds while she kneeled where he told her.

—Hands to the back.

Y/n assumed she was under an enchant by how quickly she moved, intertwining her fingers behind her back.

His touch was gentle when he moved his thumb over chin, sliding it up her lower lip, while he looked down at her.

—I want you so bad, sugar. You have no idea how many times I've thought of you like this while I rammed my cock in those pretty lips.

Her hips moved instinctively, disappointed when she realized how slightly parted her legs were by her position.

—Does my girl want a taste?

Her head moved up and down, while her eyes remained fixed on his, earning a soft smirk and a silent chuckle from him.

His dick was still semi hard when he unzipped his black pants, holding it from the base with his right hand, while the left one patted her head in a reassuring way. And before he could even press it against her lips, her tongue went looking for it, licking the tip while shyly looking at him.

And after seeing how he liked what she did, she only felt encouraged to go further, closing her lips around the tip, sucking on it before she let go of it, causing San to breathe out heavily.

Her hesitation disappeared as comfort settled in her, bobbing her head up and down, just a few centimeters further, to move back right again. There was something so exciting about feeling him growing in between her lips.

San moved back without a previous warning, causing her to look up to him confused with her glistening lips still parted with the size of his width.

—Get on the bed, sugar —he commanded.

He'd have loved to cum in her mouth. Maybe even having her linked to his dick for hours next time she chose to let her tongue roll with no second thoughts.

But that night he wanted to adapt to her speed, let her get a first touch with everything she was going to be part of.

—Since wearing a mask got you in this... —he spoke to himself, walking up to his closet to take a black mask that he only used to sleep on those transoceanic flights.

Being bandaged that night wasn't on her plans. Not even being in his bed, leaking all the way to his sheet with his mere presence. But she probably would've been less surprised at being tied.

Her sight went completely dark when he placed the fabric around her head, blocking anything she could view.

—Now lie on your back, hands over your head —he kept guiding her—. And, for your sake, don't move them down.

His steps sounded heavier than they'd have if she wasn't kept from looking, having her body trembling every time she assumed he was near enough to lie a hand on her. Her hips moved up to his hand when one of his fingers slid through her slit out of nowhere, coating the tip with her juices.

—Fuck, you're so ready to get fucked —he groaned—. Too bad I love playing with my food.

Her clit throb when she felt something light, and slightly colder than her skin, touched the arch of her neck, slowly moving down her body. Her nipples tightened when it moved in between her breasts, barely touching her skin as it ghosted over her.

San moved the plastic calla flower over her body, enjoying every squirm and every whine that was stuck in her throat when it touched every weak spot he could think of. At some point she even attempted to hide her face in her upper arm, not getting to bite her own skin as he moved the flower past her belly button.

Shit. She was so beautiful.

Her fingers hooked on the sheets under her palm, trying to find some stability when everything was turning in circles around her, making her feel dizzy despite her eyes being closed.

—Open your legs, sugar.

His honeyed voice was addictive, hypnotic, leaving her with no other choice but to follow his commands without letting her brain think.

—Look at this beautiful sight —he hummed, tilting his head as he admired her from the edge of the bed—. You're doing so well.

Her heart pumped a bit faster against her ribcage when that compliment was followed by a deep silence, in which she wasn't able to hear his footsteps, not even his movements to tell what would come next.

Until the bed sank at her feet.

—One easy order, sugar. Anything you want to do, you ask for my permission first. Got it?

Thinking her silence would be enough of an answer, she just gulped thick and barely nodded, before his hand landed on her thigh.

—I asked if you got it.

—Y... yes.

As the hiss of the s left her mouth, two of his fingers slid in her, immediately welcomed by her warmth and her wetness. His dick throbbed painfully just at the thought of how she'd feel wrapped around him.

His fingers felt thick while stretching her out, moving in and out her pussy to coat them with all of her juices, allowing her to get used to it. Just a few more movements, and he was already pounding into her, letting the wet sounds fill the room while her body moved over the mattress anywhere else but trying to escape him.

San paused while being deep in her, curving his fingers to reach for that spongy spot that took that first moan from her. Her breathing was loud, her thighs were having a hard time to remain spread, while he kept dragging her closer to her own edge.

Her pussy clenched around him, and instead of stopping, he put her through a test, moving even faster.

—I want to cum —she moaned with a thin voice.

—Let go, sugar.

His smirk only went deeper when he could feel her cream coating his fingers, encouraging him to keep going for a bit more while her back arched as if her spine was lava. He drove her through her orgasm, adding the movements of his tongue over her sensitive button.

—Please —she begged.

Although Y/n wasn't quite sure what she was begging for. She didn't want him to stop, and she was addicted to the pleasure he made her feel.

San only felt tempted to go on, wrapping his lips around her clit to suck on it while his tongue kept pushing and twirling around it. Her nails scratched the sheets, in a desperate try to keep her arms up high as he demanded from her. But there were so many things her brain needed to be focused on, so many things that distracted her, that she was sure she was going to end up punished again.

—I'm going to cum again.

San groaned against her folds, with his free hand scratching on the skin of her thigh.

—Hmm, are you going to make a mess on your master's face?

There were so many details in that sentence, yet the one who gave her the last push was the way he called himself, with that small possession meaning.

Sliding his fingers out of her, San moved his face a bit lower, drinking every drop from her orgasm while his reassuring hands on her thighs tried to calm her down.

—Good girl —he patted her—. Good girl —San repeated, dragging his body out of the bed—. Do you know what I'm going to do now?

He let her guess, while he carefully unbuttoned his black vest and white shirt, with them being followed by his dark pants and socks.

—Take off the mask. I want to see your face.

Y/n didn't know what to expect when she followed his words, yet seeing his marked torso, his aroused expression and one of his locks falling lazily over his forehead were an image she wasn't able to resist.

Just like the first time, he placed himself in between her legs, spreading her wider with his palms pressing on her inner sides.

Her eyebrows slightly furrowed when his tip covered with latex pressed against her entrance, pushing through her guts to slide in.

—If you move your hands, even a centimeter, I will stop.

Far from turning her off, his warning had her throbbing aggressively, clenching around his tip.

—Safeword?

—Kalla —she muttered.

He buried himself inside of her with one slow thrust, sealing their new relationship when their pelvis collided, before he started moving them back and forward. She bit her lip, daring to look up to see him admiring her body. She had never felt so exposed, yet so wanted; while San tried to memorize every detail, with all the hints making sense when seeing her back in the same position.

It just had to be her.

His hips went from that calm speed to rocking angrily against hers, not taking too long for the dry claps echoing between those four walls.

One hand moved over her neck to place her head against the mattress, while the fingers of the other wrapped around his wrists -as if she was thinking of a reason for him to stop. Even if his arms were sore, and her brain was too melted to form a proper thought, there was no way she was moving her hands away from the bed.

With each dry and fast sway of his hips, his silver necklace tapped her chin, sometimes going further to her lips.

—Open your mouth, sugar —he called her out in between groans, watching her trying to hold back her own moans—. Let me hear how good I'm making you feel.

Her back arched when he circled his hips, reaching a new spot that had her toes curling and a moan searing her throat.

San stopped, decreasing the speed to go back at thrusting in her slower, moving his hips to make sure he managed to rub her clit against his pelvis.

—You're taking me so well, sugar... —he praised her— being such a good girl for me.

And more than just a praise, that sounded like a promise that her actions would get her really good rewards.

The ringing from her ears, far from being annoying, reminded her how good she was feeling not even a few minutes back while San built her fourth orgasm. Barely unable to move her body, she opened her eyes to find him coming back with a glass of water in one hand, and a bigger bowl on the other while a towel was hanging on his elbow.

San didn't let her move, anticipating her actions to motion her to go back to her first position. He was the one cleaning up with the warm water he brought, only giving her the responsibility of drinking some water if she needed.

—It was... the best sex I've ever had —she whispered, getting his attention while he moved the towel over her thighs.

Breaking his serious facade, he finally smiled, pleased with her comment.

—Just to let you know: it'll be worse than the second time.

Y/n pressed her lips with a giggle, sighing when the warm soft towel was in contact with her sensitive core. San definitely knew how to be delicate when it was needed.

—I'll be in the room in front of this one in case you need anything —he announced, picking up almost everything he took to the room.

—You aren't sleeping here?

San didn't answer directly to her question, he simply moved back to the door, turning to her one last time.

—Sleep well.

Taglist: @brown88

[bellaxgiornata]

Falling For the Devil [Part forty: "The Secrets in Your Suitcase"]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Summary: You go shopping with Marci and Karen before helping Matt pack for the road trip the following night.

Or

You pack a few things in your suitcase and try to keep Matt from finding out what.

[Series of one-shots about Reader meeting, falling for, and dating Matt Murdock.]

Warnings: 18+ for this series; contains humor, fluff, romance, angst, smut (like...a lot of it later in the series), language, some violence

Word Count: 2.5k

a/n: Just a fun little installment piece before we see Reader and Matt undertake a two part roadtrip with a smupdate at a hotel breaking everything up. You can find all the installments for this series on tumblr here.

Walking in step with Karen, you both followed behind Marci out of the store. Marci had been on the hunt for one last Christmas gift for Foggy, which she had just purchased, and then she’d wanted to grab some lingerie from a boutique a few shops over. The three of you had decided to spend your Thursday evening having a girl’s night out together while Foggy and Matt were finishing up a few things at the office before your Christmas road trip. You knew Matt had been busy today, which was why you hadn’t bothered him earlier about the interview you’d managed to last minute obtain with a representative for an influential investor in Wayland Corporation. You were hoping to avoid bringing that subject up until after Christmas.

“Glad that’s finally out of the way,” Marci said, drawing her coffee to her mouth and taking a sip.

The three of you managed to fall in step together on the sidewalk, Karen and Marci on either side of you. You all began the struggle to make your way down the busy sidewalk lit by countless Christmas lights towards the last store on Marci’s list for tonight’s excursion. Which you were thankful for because the foot traffic was terrible considering the hour and how close Christmas was–everyone was out doing their last minute shopping tonight apparently. 

“So lingerie is what’s left on the list?” Karen asked, glancing past you to Marci.

“Yes,” Marci said, shooting you both a coy smile. “I’m thinking about getting something festive for Christmas Eve. I want to find out how naughty or nice Fog’s been this year…”

“I envy you both for having an active sex life,” Karen muttered, drawing her cup of coffee to her mouth.

Marci nudged you sharply with an elbow, causing you to almost spill your own coffee that was warming your hands. You startled, shooting her a questioning look beside you.

“How is your sex life with Matt?” she asked curiously. “We haven't gotten a lot of girl time to discuss it lately and I need to know our boy is taking care of you.” She shot you a wink as she added, "Especially with those new presents from last night."

“And with how long we watched you both pine over each other,” Karen added, a mischievous glint in her eye. “So spill.”

Feeling put on the spot, you felt your cheeks flush despite the cold of the evening. It was like being bombarded by two Katies with these two.

“It’s good,” you said, raising a hand and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. 

Marci’s face fell flat and she shot you a pointed look. “Really? It’s just good?” she asked in disbelief. 

“We want details,” Karen pushed.

"Well, he uh, he certainly knows what he's doing," you said quickly, raising your coffee cup and taking a drink.

"So mind-blowing, earth-shattering, body-quaking orgasms every time?" Marci pressed.

You choked on your coffee, coughing and sputtering as both women stared expectantly at you while you all walked. You cleared your throat, trying to recover. 

"I mean, yes?" you answered awkwardly. 

"I knew it!" Marci said triumphantly, leading you all through the sea of people towards the lingerie store's entrance.

You followed her into the store with Karen, your eyes raking over the vast amount of leather and lace and silk everywhere inside. Your eyes widened at a few of the things the mannequins were dressed in. Marci seemed to spot exactly what section she wanted immediately and darted towards it. Karen and you followed slowly after Marci, your eyes still darting around to the various articles of clothing. 

"So how much fun are you having with him?" Karen asked quietly.

"We had sex on the kitchen counter at the end of last week," you whispered back. "While he was still dressed in the man in black outfit."

Karen's eyes went wide as her jaw dropped. Soon after she let out a quiet and restrained but excited squeal as she grabbed your arm. "Are you serious? I knew you had a dirty side to you!" she exclaimed.

You shrugged, drawing your cup back up to your mouth for a drink. "There's just something about that black suit…and I suppose Matt in general," you admitted a little sheepishly. 

"So how did he like your Halloween costume then?" she asked. "You never did give us the full details of that night."

You grinned, eyes dropping down to your feet as you moved, remembering that night at the bar and then everything that happened on his leather couch afterwards. "He definitely enjoyed it," you answered. 

"Like a lot or…?" she pushed. 

"Like so much that he asked me to sit on his face in it," you blurted in a rush before hiding behind your coffee cup again. 

"Oh my God !" she exclaimed excitedly. She turned, grabbing Marci as the pair of you approached her and spun her around. "You know how much Matt enjoyed her Halloween costume?" Karen asked her. 

"Karen," you whined, covering your reddening face with a hand. 

"Oh, this sounds good," Marci replied quickly, leaning in towards Karen.

"He had her sit on his face in it," Karen whispered, Marci’s eyes going wide before landing on you.

"You two have a naughty side in the bedroom!" Marci shrieked, a devilish grin on her face as you cowered into your scarf. "I knew there was more behind all those sweet kisses at Josie’s and the hand holding and little pet names! You are definitely going to try out those restraints and that flogger, don't lie."

Nodding enthusiastically beside you, Karen said, "You really should pack those with you."

You groaned, embarrassed. "Can we talk about literally anything else?" you begged. 

"No," Marci said, a hand darting out to grab your coat-covered shoulder, "because you should buy something here. Hide it in your suitcase and bust it out some time over your little vacation with Matt. Don't tell him, just let him realize you're wearing it. And then let him spank you with that flogger." She shrugged a shoulder, waggling her brows at you. "Or spank him with it."

"Yes!" Karen vehemently agreed with her. "You should totally do that! You're staying at a rented condo again, right? Not a family member's house?"

"Yes," you answered her slowly. 

"So you can fuck as loud and wild as you want without an embarrassing intrusion," Marci urged. "Oh come on, if he liked your costume that much he would love unwrapping you for Christmas." She shot you a wink and your cheeks burned further. 

"I don't know," you said nervously, eyeing the lingerie around the three of you. "Putting on any of this requires way more confidence than I think I have. I mean–" you continued, pulling out a piece on the rack beside you that didn't even have a crotch to it, "–I do not think I can pull this off. I have no idea how to be sexy." You frowned, putting the skimpy article of clothing back.

"Clearly you do if you're riding his face in a devil costume," Marci countered reassuringly. "No one's saying you need to give him a lap dance, just like…wear it under some clothes while it's just the two of you. Let him undress you and find it himself."

"Or change into it before bed," Karen suggested, "instead of what you usually wear. Just don't say anything. I'm sure his hands would be on you at some point before falling asleep and he would figure it out real quick."

Chewing the inside of your cheek, you contemplated what they had said. Either of those options did sound like something you'd be comfortable enough doing. And Matt's reaction to you surprising him in some lingerie was something you were now really, really wanting to witness. Especially after his reaction to your Halloween costume.  

Marci’s eyes narrowed at you, that coy smirk slipping back onto her face. “Your silence and that look on your face are telling me you definitely want to,” she said.

You sighed, rolling your eyes as you gave in. “Okay, yes, that sounds like it might be fun,” you agreed.

Karen quickly looped her arm through yours, steering you over towards an obviously tamer area of the store. Marci promised she’d be over to help you pick out something soon once she grabbed something herself.

“So,” Karen began, the two of you pausing in front of a handful of displays and racks, “what do you think your Devil would like?”

For some reason hearing someone else acknowledge Matt as your Devil had the hair on the back of your neck rising. You liked hearing that–knowing he was yours .

“Silk,” you answered, your eyes scanning the various lingerie pieces before you. “I know that man loves silk.”

“Then let’s find you something with silk,” Karen replied, her tone mischievous. 

________

“You really don’t have to help me pack, sweetheart,” Matt assured you, pulling out a handful of neatly folded shirts from his dresser. “You’ve got a long two days of driving ahead of you. You can just go relax.”

Shrugging a shoulder lightly, you continued organizing his sweatpants and fuzzy socks in his suitcase. “I don’t mind,” you told him. “I’m sure it’s a lot easier for you this way.”

He carried a stack of shirts over to the end of his bed, setting them down. One of his hands reached out, halting your movements of repositioning a set of socks in his luggage. Your eyes darted up towards him curiously. A smile slid onto his lips as he gazed down at you.

“It is, thank you,” he whispered.

He made his way over to his closet next, pulling out his neatly folded jeans from off of the top shelf. You began packing away his shirts next in the suitcase as he sorted through how many pairs of jeans he would need.

“So how much are you dreading being stuck in a car?” you curiously asked Matt as you worked.

“I’m not dreading it at all, actually,” he answered. “I’m looking forward to spending all that uninterrupted time with you.”

“Ever the charmer, Matthew Murdock,” you muttered as you finished packing away his shirts.

He set a stack of jeans down on the edge of the bed beside you. A moment later he was placing his hands on your hips as he stood behind you. “Only for you, sweetheart,” he murmured.

You felt him brush your hair aside and plant a lingering kiss on the back of your neck. Your eyes briefly fluttered shut, the warmth of him from behind you awakening something briefly inside of you.

“Oh,” he began, hands releasing themselves from your hips, “your laptop is still on the coffee table, sweetheart. You might want to pack it now so you don’t forget it.”

“Shit, thank you,” you said.

Exiting his bedroom, you made your way down the hall to his living room. Your laptop was in fact still sitting out on the coffee table, the little laptop case leaning against the side of the table. With a sigh you packed it up, double checking you had all of the cords you’d need for it. Then you made your way back down the hall towards Matt’s bedroom where he was currently packing up a handful of his black boxers. 

You grabbed your suitcase from where it was tucked out of the way in the corner of his room and pulled it over before setting it on the bed away from where Matt was working. You unzipped it and carefully pulled it open so nothing went flying out. Grabbing your laptop case, you maneuvered a few clothing items around, wanting to place the laptop between some clothes to hopefully keep it a bit safer while you traveled. But as you shifted a few things, your hand instantly came across the soft silk of the black lingerie piece you’d bought while you were out with Karen and Marci last night. Beside it was the red, silk rope wrist cuffs and the flogger you'd nervously packed. Your heart immediately sped up in your chest, heat rising to your cheeks at the thought of wearing the lingerie for Matt and possibly using the other items sometime soon. Out of your peripheral on the opposite side of the bed, Matt’s hands paused what he was doing. You saw his head slowly rise up towards you and you swallowed hard. 

“What was that?” he asked curiously, eyeing you.

“Nothing,” you answered quickly.

Slipping your laptop between some clothes, you hurriedly readjusted the contents of your suitcase before closing it and zipping it up. You moved as if he’d somehow figure out the naughty little things you had packed if your luggage was open too long in front of him. And who knows, maybe he would.

“No,” he said, drawing the word out as his hands entirely stopped what they were doing. “That wasn’t nothing. What’s got you so flustered in that suitcase, sweetheart? What is it you clearly don’t want me to know about?”

You could feel your heart thudding in your chest at his questions. If you answered one of them truthfully, could he still tell if it was a lie? Because technically you didn’t want him to know about your Christmas present for him. And also…the lingerie was also sort of like another Christmas present, right?

“I just, uh, don’t want you to guess your present,” you answered in a rush.

A cheeky smile slid on his face as he eyed you. “Unless you got me a cock ring, I don’t know why you’re so flustered.”

Your eyes grew wide and your jaw dropped. “ Matt !” you hissed loudly, embarrassed.

He laughed, shaking his head at you. “You really mean to tell me you’re going to get bashful joking about cock rings with me, sweetie?” he teased. “After some of the things we’ve done together?”

“I just–” you paused, trying to figure out how to drop the conversation as fast as possible, “–I don’t–I mean, I can’t, uh–”

“Relax,” Matt said with another laugh, resuming his packing. “If it’s got you this flustered I’m sure it’ll be worth waiting for to find out later.”

You sighed, pulling your suitcase off of the bed and setting it back into the corner out of the way. You were glad he wasn’t going to push that topic.

“Unless it’s anal beads,” he mused, your body going rigid, “because I know how much you love my ass, sweetheart, but I’m not sure how I feel about that.”

You spun on your heel towards him, cheeks turning red again. He was biting his bottom lip, fighting back a wave of laughter as he continued to pack clothes into his suitcase.

“Fucking hell , Matt!” you groaned, embarrassed. “I don’t have any anal beads in my suitcase!”

He glanced up at you, pausing as he held a pair of socks in his hand, shooting you a teasing grin. “If you say so.”

You buried your face in your hands, your cheeks feeling like they were on fire. “You’re going to make me regret two days in a car with you, aren’t you?” you grumbled.

“I guess we’ll see,” he teased, laughter in his voice.

[wyrmguardsecrets]

[To the RPer asking about why Orgrimmar did not end up similar to Stormwind, perhaps I can help shed a little light on the question.]

A large portion of this is likely due to population statistics. According to WoWAnalytica, Moonguard has an overall population of 7.65% Horde. According to WoWRealmPopulation, there are 1248 Horde characters. Double than what WoWAnalytica suggests (approximately 16% of the realm), but still less than a fifth of the Alliance population. According to WoWProgress, you are sitting at 1085 Horde, or roughly 15% of the population. So already there is a population limit to visibility.

Once you break into race specifics, it gets worse. The vast majority of Horde players in 2024 are Blood Elves. On Moonguard they make up approximately 2.4% of the population according to WoWAnalytica. With Vulpera coming second at 2.14%. The third is a Orcs and Undead at a measly 0.47%. And it only scales downwards from there. Trolls, Zandalari, and Tauren maintain low 0.4%, Nightborne down at 0.23% and every other Horde race below 0.17%. The races most likely to inhabit Org, would classically be Trolls, Orcs, Goblins and potentially Undead, but there just aren't that many. Each Horde race's capital is also considerably more viable for their personal rp. Tauren have far more reason to be involved in Highmountain or Mulgore, than they do Org. Trolls the same with Zuldazar or Darkspear Isle (or potentially the use of outdoor raid zones). Goblins have Ratchet, Gadgetzan, and Booty Bay. Undead have what Brill (Can't really say as I don't play Undead)? As such the limited amount of Horde further segments itself. This is especially evident when you take a trip to Silvermoon, which is where you will see some MG Horde RP. With the inclusion of Void Elves, many of the Blood Elves also hopped to Alliance - which further drives traffic to Stormwind.

Then you can add the city planning element - lack of interactables, poorly designed taverns, bad overall layout that feels segmented, lack of "comfy" atmosphere. The characteristic Horde appeal in aesthetics contributes poorly to a cozy walk up scenario. Neutral cities don't really help this. There is little reason for Horde to go to Dalaran, given the Kirin Tor's arguable Alliance leaning (and even past events there).

You also have the element of polarization. Sylvanus was a major dividing factor amongst Horde players. Similar can be said of Garrosh or the introduction of Vulpera. In each case, it further divided the already splintered Horde.

As a result, the Horde RP scene is more attributed to a loose confederation of guilds and their hotspots. But take this all with a grain of salt, whilst I may RP Horde, I am more of a content player at heart.

.

[radfemsouthy]

If I criticise Nigerian men, I am xenophobic. If I criticise South African men, I’m a traitor. There’s no winning as a South African woman.

If I criticise the vast amounts of Nigerian men who are taking advantage of South Africa’s lax laws to commit crime in the country, I’m xenophobic.

Even though many of these men are a part of international criminal organisation (the Black Axe) that commit internet fraud, traffic girls & women & sell drugs.

These men do this globally, leading to Nigeria’s reputation being negative. This makes it difficult for regular, hardworking Nigerians to travel and immigrate abroad.

If I criticise South African men, I am self hating & a traitor. There’s no winning, but I will not keep quiet while men of all nationalities harm South African girls & women.

[linearao3]

You know something I'm afraid to say out loud? I kinda feel like one of the biggest issues with writing soc fics that take place post ck is that Inejs plan to roam the seas and take down slavers makes no sense logistically? It's a beautiful and powerful image, but it's a wildly ineffective game plan unless she is okay with hundreds of innocent people dying for every handful of actual slavers. It's not like she can set up traffic stops and peacefully search every ship going by. The sea is vast and largely anonymous. It's just not realistic to target specific captains or ships. Even if it was, she'd need extremely precise conditions to overpower an enemy ship without risking the lives of the slaves onboard. I love a morally grey inej, but pirate captain inej isn't a story of her gaining autonomy or freedom, it's a story of her becoming as cold and ruthless as kaz.

I try to avoid flying to the metatextual answer with character issues, but I really do think this one boils down to: Leigh Bardugo is more at home with heroic narratives than with social narratives, plus I think she just likes pirates (cp, Nikolai). Because according to Rule of Wolves, it is working. You and I may not think that makes a lot of sense, but Bardugo sets the rules here, and according to her, Inej is bringing down evil capitalist overlords left and right, and instead of more springing up to take their place with more devious methods, apparently Kerch is just forgoing cheap labor. (Or anyway cheap labor by those means.) The author says it works, so it works.

But laying that aside, there are a couple issues to explore I think: Inej is a teenager, and doesn’t necessarily have the strongest grasp on how to fight systemic ills (and grown adults struggle daily with how best to help forced, coerced, and underpaid laborers). She’s thinking of what she would have wanted: someone to swoop in out of nowhere and strike off her chains before she got to Kerch. So that’s a large part of what guides her ambitions, I think, even before any bloodthirstiness or desire for vengeance — she wants to rewrite her own past, and if she can’t do it with her own story, she’ll do it with others’. (There is space here I think for thinking about how Inej frames the moment of her sale to Heleen as the moment after which she is corrupted, and about feelings she may have about who can and can’t be saved, but we’re talking about pirates here.)

The other question is, I think, how one goes about the pirate business. You don’t necessarily have to fire on every ship; most people don’t want to die and will surrender if they don’t like their odds. Most sailors are well aware how easy it is to die at sea! If she has a fancy battleship, and she’s up against leaky bathtubs, she might not have too much trouble being allowed to board and search without a fight. Now, this doesn’t solve the problems of (a) numbers, as in either trafficking voyages per day or ships per nautical square mile, or (b) identifying trafficking ships, and realistically, would the industry fight back by say, banding ships together into small fleets to outnumber her or give her too many targets to effectively work against in a single encounter? Yes, probably. But she might be able to save some people without too much bloodshed? Not, probably, a statistically significant amount. But she’s not going for numbers, or statistics, or a systemic solution; she’s going for a personal, psychological satisfaction of making the story end differently this time.

Or anyway that’s my reading! For whatever it’s worth!