#but holy shit man does it feel plausible right about now

[grumpyfaceurn]

i guess in retrospect it's a good thing I never got anyone to love me.

Because if rejection from one stupid little crush that was never going to work (what part of still wearing his dead wife's wedding ring don't I understand???) can be this overwhelmingly physically painful I don't know how I would ever survive someone breaking up with me.

[rius-cave]

another good partner to angst— emotional turmoil of “oh fuck I like that bastard”. Especially if one side is like “no this makes me weak and vulnerable”, and the other is like “oh shit, when did this happen??” And neither Lucifer or Adam would make their distress quiet — but I’m having trouble imagining what that would look like outside of Adam self isolating and be a usual dick, and Lucifer having little fits of realization then denial then realization again on repeat. You’ve got a better grasp on their characterizations, do you think this is plausible, and if so, what would their reactions be?

I'm flattered you think I have a better grasp on them, half the time I feel like I'm going too OOC, especially for Adam haha

I don't think Lucifer would have thaaaat much issue with it. He's been married for a while and he's been in love for even longer. It will definitely be a shock that it's ADAM of all people lol, but once he finally realizes his feelings I think he would just be happy, especially since by this point Adam is on a steady path to redemption

Adam however, he has a hard time when he starts sleeping with Lucifer, and he has no emotional intelligence when it comes to real love (not anymore), he doesn't know how to recognize his feelings because he subconsciously keeps denying them.

I said in a previous ask that both of them would go "holy shit I'm in love with that man", but their way of handling it afterwards is different! Lucifer is shocked, but also happy to realize his feelings, and he actively decides to try and make it work. Meanwhile, Adam does panic, he's in a relationship with Lucifer obviously, but this is a whole other thing entirely! Him, loving the Devil himself????? The man who stole both his wives and now even stole his heart???? Adam is not used to being emotionally vulnerable, I think he would keep a distance from Lucifer for a while, maybe even move out/run away for a while, if you want to be extra dramatic. Lucifer would be confused AS FUCK because things were going well! Right?

Adam would be lost in his own panic and realization for a while until Lucifer finally pries the information out of him. "I don't know! I feel strange around you, okay!? And I'm not talking about having sex with you, it's just...! A fucking stupid sensation on my chest and it's fucking driving me mad!"

Lucifer, of course, understands what he's talking about and sees the fear and raw emotion in his eyes, clearly conflicted and panicky. It takes a while, and boy does it take patience, but Lucifer eventually gets through to him and spells it out for him, "Adam, it's okay, you're not broken, you're not tainted, there's nothing wrong with what you're feeling." Then Lucifer forces Adam to look at him, and the rest goes unspoken. Lucifer helps him make baby steps towards accepting who he is now, until Adam is finally comfortable with his feelings and where he ended up.

[tobiasdrake]

I know what it looks like but it's not what you think. I'm just trying to harass your top scientist into revealing company secrets. It's cool.

This would be the funniest possible time for Huesca to die. We've done Locked Room Quartet. We've done Open Air Locked Room. Are you ready for the Most Locked-est Room Ever Locked!?

The same underlings who tried to solve the last four murders? Sure, those guys are credible.

What is Yomi implying here? That Makoto came down here and knocked out two guards, then left in a car to go pick me up, and then came back down to capitalize on the chaos created by a fake letter he'd sent to Yomi earlier?

Because that... is alarmingly plausible and answers my question as to why that letter would even exist.

Looks like we pushed too hard. Makoto's being placed under arrest.

...so. Like. Am I cool to hang out, Yomi? You're just taking him, right? It's fine for me to still be here?

YUMA NO

YOU FOOL

We almost got away with it. Yomi was so laser-focused that he was legit going to take Makoto and leave us here. Your masterful disguise of freezing up and being so useless that you become mistakable for a floor lamp was working until you spoke up!

Floor lamp. Like I said. Pay us no mind and have a wonderful day. Oh, what is that noise in the distance? Is that the sound of some malcontents? Someone must go step on their necks, and that someone is you, Yomi. You got this, man. I believe in you.

Aww, that hurts my feelings. You were ready to get Halara'd trying to kill us all over me, like, yesterday. :( Am I really that forgettable?

I hope so too. It'd take out this entire building. We've got Yomi and Makoto here at the same time, plus Huesca. That'd solve a lot of problems for Kanai Ward right there.

Alright, we've time-skipped. Now someone is surely dead.

Aren't you a little short for a Stormtroo--Desuhiko. Halara must have delivered my IOU message.

To be fair, I'd be doing shit like this to him if he was the one over a barrel like this. Though I'd be going for more goofy prankster shit. Desuhiko is weirdly obsessed with shilling the Yuma/Kurumi ship at every possible opportunity.

HOLY SHIT, IS THAT YOU, YAKOU!?

Fuck, I thought it'd be Fubuki or Halara. Someone useful. Instead, we get these two clowns. But I suppose it will have to do. Thanks for rescuing me, try not to die on the way out.

DON'T UN-DISGUISE. Y'all have helmets. Just take those off. You don't need to strip down and make yourselves fully vulnerable to being caught, you fucking morons!

He didn't, actually. If he used DIsguise, he would have taken on an appropriate height for a Peacekeeper grunt. This was a disguise, but it wasn't Disguise. Which was honestly for the best.

Given how much Disguise takes out of Desuhiko, a non-Disguise disguise was the right call. With face and body fully covered, there was no need to burn energy on the full shapeshifting shenanigans route.

While true, your behavior in the past has done little to establish a relationship of trust and open communication.

It's like parenting. When you constantly tell Yuma, "DO NOT go snoop around, DO NOT get in trouble with the Peacekeepers, AVOID solving mysteries or doing anything meaningful," and then get mad at him every time he does those things? It's not going to discourage him from doing them. It's going to discourage him from telling you that he's doing them.

If you convey to your child/apprentice that they cannot confide in you about the things they are doing, then they will continue to do those things but they will not confide in you about them. Yuma went behind your back because everything you've said to him up to this point has convinced him that you must be lied to.

My IOU letter!

No, for real, what is that actually? Did Fink the Slaughter Artist tell them I was here?

...that's not a yes.

But it's also not a no. This sent a chill down my spine.

Nuh nuh nuh go back. Don't just yadda-yadda over your arrival here. You have to pass through a biometric scanner to enter the premises. How did you pass through the biometric scanner?

I guess Desuhiko could have Disguised a member of Amaterasu staff to get them through. That shit is practically shapeshifting so it might alter his biometrics. That or they smuggled their way in on, like, a troop transport? Maybe?

That is a fair assessment of what happened, yes. Yuma's floor lamp impersonation needs work.

Yomi had a plausible explanation for that, but obviously Makoto himself couldn't have dropped the letter at the sub. The timing of which still makes me think he did it specifically to get them to come fetch Yuma.

Makoto and Fink aren't proven to be in cahoots but they're likely to be in cahoots. Cahoots are more plausible than not at this point in time.

Hold up, your plan is to kidnap Amaterasu's most highly-protect employee from the middle of their HQ and then walk out?

Yakou, 95% of the time I want you to grow a spine. Then, in the other 5%, you are the boldest motherfucker I've ever met. I love it. I'm here for it. It's too bad Huesca's most certainly dead by now.

HOORAH! LET'S FUCKING GOOOOOOOOO

Into the poison gas chamber and DIIIIIIIIE!

...plan needs work, but we can workshop it. Gonna stay positive!

The hell is that supposed to mean, Desuhiko? I'll have you know that I have only Disguised as a woman one....

...four....

...five times. Out of five.

Okay, yeah. That's fair. Gimme the female suit and the polyurethane molded breast forms you set aside as mine.

You heard it here, folks. Yuma doesn't have a preference between male or female. Canon he/they.

Purple question-mark hair and pronouns.

You don't need your bag. These were disguises instead of Disguise. You should still have two of the disguises on you, Desuhiko. Would it be that hard to locate a third?

...we're going on this detour so you can make Yuma a female Peacekeeper, aren't we?

[diodellet]

keep the dress on (simeon x gn!reader)

i saw @devilllain's art of simeon in a maid dress and got possessed. (GIVE EM LOTS OF LOVE FOR THEIR ART GO OVER TO THEIR BLOG NOW RIGHT NOW!!) fucc man, i just love...men in fem clothing... the range,,, the POWER iT JUS BRINGS ME TO MY KNEES 😩😩 content warnings under the cut: nothing? it's just pwp ++crossdressing, dominant reader+giving oral sex, flustered simeon, mild jealousy and possessiveness from the reader, implied jealousy from the sinblings, praise kink, mild maid and master kink word count: 2.2k words minors do not interact

"Holy shit." Your gaze first settles on the sleeves of his dress. Seeing him in sleeves—puffy ones at that—was something that made you pause, where were his bare shoulders—You take in the way the longer ends were folded up to his elbows. He seems to have foregone his usual choice of gloves, settling for a shorter pair that leaves half of his palms uncovered. The front of his dress is neatly pressed, pristinely buttoned up, ending in a long skirt that reached below his knees. Not a single crease or wrinkle can be found, save for the frilly ruffles that adorn the edges of his sleeves and the dress' collar. The dress is complemented with a white apron layered atop it, you bet that the straps are tied into a simple bow at his back. Lastly, for his footwear, he only wore a pair of black shoes with square heels.

Your eyes tear up to see—oh, he was also wearing mismatching legwear, a thigh-high stocking and a knee-length sock held in place with a garter strap. You want to feel a hand up his legs—Simeon's serene smile falling at your words. "Language!" he scolds you. The tone he uses is enough to snap you out of your stupor.

"I'm sorry! It just slipped out!" you protest. Your fingers tug at the collar of your shirt, suddenly feeling heat creep upwards along the sides of your neck.

He never really admonished your predilection for crass language, but seeing as how you were in the presence of Luke and Solomon, you swallow back the reflexive curse that threatened to accompany your apology. Instead, your other hand fidgets with the hem of your shirt. Itching for a way to dispel the jitters that settled into your veins.

"Simeon! I'm not a kid anymore!" Luke huffs.

You spare a furtive glance to Solomon and Simeon, the former giving you an empathetic look while the latter's frown deepened. Sure, Luke might've been hundreds of years old, but Simeon would've had your head if you acted anything less like a decent adult in front of the younger angel.

"No, it-it's really my fault." The heat spreads to the tips of your ears, more out of shame than embarrassment. "I shouldn't have said that bad word, sorry, I'm sorry—What's with the getup, by the way?" You make a feeble attempt to divert the conversation.

An attempt which Solomon gladly extends an olive branch towards. "He's going to be helping the student council with a costume café this afternoon, didn't they tell you about it?"

"I don't think so?" Your head tilts to the side in confusion. You would've heard about it by now, knowing how much Asmo or Levi freely talked about their daily life on social media.

"I bet Lucifer cursed his brothers from talking about it." Luke says, crossing his arms over his chest. The gesture does little to emphasize his anger, on a normal day you would have poked fun at his expression. But there's a grain of plausibility to his words that strikes up a flare of jealousy inside you.

"Hm, maybe." Solomon shrugs, before giving you a knowing look. "But I don't think that's the only reason he'd do so."

A strangled noise erupts from your throat, which you try to play off as a cough. "Don't-don't ask me, I only found out today!" You hold your hands out in front of you defensively. Your cheeks were burning. This entire situation was unfair. You were going to get back at Lucifer. And your other pacts for not telling you about this.

To you gratitude (and simultaneous dismay), Simeon cuts in to say, "Well, you're still free to drop by later. My shift isn't until two, and it'll end a quarter to three."

And with that, the Purgatory Hall residents walk away. The sound of Simeon's heels clicking against the pavement grows fainter and fainter. You are left alone with that maddening polite smile and your less-than-savory thoguhts.

Taking out your D.D.D., you send a message to Solomon and march off in the direction they went towards. And they didn't even bother to tell you where it was being held, the nerve!

[...]

The first thing you do is back him up against the wall of the supply closet, pulling him into a feverish-open mouthed kiss. The surprised moan that tears itself from his throat sends you spiraling further down your need. Your hand hikes up to cup the back of his neck, you drink in every hitched breath, every plaintive whine.

Which he earnestly reciprocates, kissing you back with just as much fervor. One of his hands searches for yours and interlaces your fingers together.

That one hour of waiting was torture. Watching him move from table table, greeting cafe goers with a bright smile and hearing his pleasant voice call them 'Master.' It was an hour of agony, made worse with being pestered by the the demon brothers to try at least one of everything on the menu, to take pictures of everyone—which of course!—turned into painstaking group photos that were more effort to coordinate than they were worth taking.

But that was in the past. You can afford to let your jealousy dissipate, just a little bit.

Pulling away, you ask, "where'd you get the dress?"

There's a string of saliva connecting your lips to his, and you catch the way his throat bobs as he gathers his words. "Leviathan lent it to me... th-the shoes are from Asmo..." You feel him tense up as your other hand slips under his skirt, feeling up the side of his thigh.

You let out a low whistle. Silk. That meant everything else—the gloves and stockings—was his. "I bet they had fun dressing you up, didn't they? Probably spent the whole day trying on dozens of outfits, huh?"

"...there were a few, yes. I thought you...would like this best..." That meant someone from your pacts let this—that you were into this kind of thing—slip.

You have a few guesses as to who that could have been. "Mm, you thought right—will you hold your skirt up?"

He obeys, gathering the layers of fabric and hiking them up. Dropping to your knees you press your palms against his thighs, feeling them tremble. They're not shaking from exertion, the type of heels he was wearing guaranteed more comfort than wearing stilettos. Even if he was on his feet for almost an hour, you are sure that you're the reason he was shaking with anticipation.

You hear him call your name. Flicking your gaze up to meet his, your fingertips are hooked into the waistband of his underwear, a few scant centimeters away from freeing his cock. "Levi said he—" The edge of your nail grazes against the sensitive skin, eliciting another shiver. "—h-he wanted this returned...intact..."

You roll your eyes, leave the unrealistic expectations to the third-born. "Okay," you reply.

A bunch of the skirt falls against your face, Simeon's hand finds your shoulder. "I'm serious—" he warns.

You don't let him finish that threat, you were the one in control right now. Knocking his hand away, you yank his underwear down and lick up his shaft. "What'd I say about the skirt, angel?" It's a small gesture, but you have him so wrapped around your finger that his hips reflexively cant up to chase the sensation of your tongue.

"Hah—I-I'm serious..." His authoritative tone weakens as your tongue catches a pearl of precum leaking from the tip.

"I know, I know, just keep your legs spread and stand still." His skirt is pulled away from your field of view, granting you the sight of his flustered form. "And no more touching."

His tongue darts out to wet his lips. Growing fluster and mild irritation are warring in his eyes, but in spite of all that going on in his mind, you can feel him growing harder in your palm. Feel his navel rising and falling in trepidation. "Okay, no touching." His fingers flex, bunching up and creasing the skirt's fabric even more.

"What else did I tell you?" You lean closer, trace circles along his inner thigh with your fingers. Letting the puff of your breath ghost along his cock.

"To-to keep my legs apart..." More precum leaks from the tip.

Your finger swipes at his arousal, dampening the pad of the digit. "Mhm, go on..."

"And to—" You pull away right when he jolts at the feeling of your slicked palm gliding up and down his dick. What you would give to hear that needy noise again. "—keep still..."

"Yep, that's right....good." Your voice lowers and you finally, finally take him into your mouth.

The moan that spills from Simeon is downright sinful, you feel his knees about to buckle from the welcome stimulation. His breathing is growing ragged, but he's got his mouth clamped shut to stifle any more accidental noises. Your own arousal is building between your legs, but your focus stays on servicing Simeon with your hands and tongue. You can feel a mix of spit and arousal running down your chin, but you're too far gone to care, too mesmerized at the sight of Simeon falling deeper and deeper into pleasure.

When your jaw starts to ache, your hand curls into a fist to stroke the heated flesh. Making sure to catch the sensitive underside of his dick, to tease the tip with the flat of your palm. Every involuntary shake and twitch, every soft whine from him fills you with a heady mix of arousal. You have to give him credit for listening to you in spite of his growing impatience. "You're doing so well for me, angel."

His voice wavers. "I'm... ngh... getting close..."

Relaxing your throat, you swallow his length. Your palms brace themselves against his inner thighs. The gesture elicits a loud whine from him. His cock hits the back of your throat, and you feel your throat seize up in momentary panic. More drool slips down your chin, spilling onto your shirt. A hand cards through your hair in an attempt to soothe you. You glance up at Simeon and his hand pulls away a moment too late—

Didn't I tell you not to touch me?

You set a punishing pace against him, hollowing your cheeks and sucking hard. Your ears are filled with a litany of praises and gratitude, mixed with the sounds of his moans pitching higher and higher as he draws closer to release. Your head is filled with the thump of your heartbeat in your ears, the squelch of your saliva as you fellate him. His hips rut into the heat of your mouth, meeting the bobs of your head. "Hah... Master, I-I'm going to—"

A surprised moan escapes you when you feel his cock twitch before spilling his seed down your throat. Your nails dig crescent marks into the skin of his thighs.

Still, you swallow. You did promise that he would get to return the dress intact.

You pull away from his softening cock to catch your breath. Simeon looks utterly debauched, and you're sure that you look just as mussed up.

A beat of silence passes.

"So...'Master,' huh?" His head turns away to avoid your inquisitive gaze. You can't help the laugh that escapes from you.

Simeon weakly protests, stammering, "it just... slipped out, I guess..."

That didn't sound like an accident. You wonder if he merely put on the maid act in preparation for this event or if there was something deeper—perhaps subconscious?—behind his use of the title.

"I'm gonna ask Levi to let you keep this dress—no, scratch that. I'm telling him you're keeping it." Taking out a handkerchief, you wipe at your mouth, at some of the mess along his thighs and groin. You savor the reflexive twitch from his oversensitive nerves and the way his hold on your wrist tightens for a mere fraction, before helping Simeon stand. When you think that he can keep himself upright, you busy yourself with smoothing out his dress.

"Huh, why?"

He shudders again as you retie the straps of his apron. Your hands splay against his lower back as you consider your next words.

"Because I want you to fuck me while wearing it."

He meets your bluntness with a moment of stunned silence and fragmented words. "O-oh, um...okay—" His response tapers off into a surprised moan as your fingers press an appreciative squeeze into his waist.

From your position, you're lower than him, bending down to help fix the underlayers of his skirt. So far it seems passable, but he probably has to double-check in front of a mirror, make sure that there's no trace of your illicit activities before his second shift. At least, on his person.

Straightening up, you guide him to look at you with the tips of your fingers resting on his chin. Your touch is gentle, but your tone of voice leaves no room for argument. "Once Lucifer's stupid fundraiser café thing ends, you better come to my room wearing this. Got that, angel?"

You hear him audibly swallow. "Yes." But he still holds your gaze.

"Yes, what?"

The words are uttered in a low voice, you have to strain to hear them. "Yes, Master." His cheeks heat up underneath your palm.

"Good." He isn't one of your pacts, but that made his willing subservience all the more precious.

FOR ONCE FOR ONCE I CAN FINALLY SLAP DOM!READER ON THIS AS A TAG AAAHHH i'm still weighing if i have the spoons to put together a continuation? if i do, im gonna say right now that it won't be posted any time soon. devilllain's art was just powerful enough to draw out 2k-ish words for this lmao dont be afraid to rb and holler in the tags! any comment, no matter how simple, is enough to make my day💕💕

[grigori77]

Critical Role, Campaign 3 Episode 85

So ... I think I can already see where THIS is going ... seems cute now, yes, it makes Marisha Awwwww, but ... oh, he's roped Liam in on this one ... oh, AND Laura? Oh, this IS getting big and involved ... oh, Taliesin TOO ... oh, that IS clever, only our resident genius could be THAT off the wall ... yeah, this was a GOOD skit ...

Ah, so a BRIEF opening this week? I don't know of that's a good sign or REALLY BAD ... now I'm worried ...

Yes, let's again remind Sam that him tanking a single roll caused MUCH CHAOS last week ...

Imogen is in a highly elevated position and STILL can't spot shit ... maybe it's just because her glasses don't work jn mist form? That would make sense ...

Trapdoor? Yes! Find it! And the Portable Hole ... yeah ... wait, ARE they GETTING IN? Oh, no, that does make more sense ...

Yeah ... Best come up with A PLAN, people ...

So now FCG is faulty farm equipment ... THIS is gonna work, TOTALLY ...

A Juggernaut? Crap ...

They're BLUFFING this ... great ... I am NOT super confident about this ...

Craaaaaaaap ... who is it? Hytroga? Bloody hell ... that's a blast from the past ... and HE'S Vanguard? Fucking hell ...

Deception? Balls ... 26? Nice, Laura ...

Oh, so he's HOMESICK? That's kind of adorable ...

I'm with Orym, who is THIS weird Elf dude?

Ah, so this might be how they get a move in with the caravan ...

"Podunk?" Hmmmmm ... charming ...

Behave, Chu ..

Okay, this check is the key ... 28? Holy fuck, Laura, you are ON FIRE tonight ...

So this elf is a SERIOUS piece of work, eh? Great ...

Open the hole ... Wisdom check? And now Ashton is A PUPPET ... great ... and now he's Raging as he attacks Imogen? For fuck's sake ...

Chetney is now JUMPING IN THE HOLE?!!! Bloody hell ...

Roll initiative! Great ...

A DISLOCATED SHOULDER for Imogen? Ouch ... she uses Mage Hand to close the Hole ... Ashton is STILL being controlled, though ...

Fearne bundles up the Hole ...

Oh, do Ashton doesn't actually DO anything ... the Willmaster is in the Pocket Dimension, so no orders coming through ... so now what?

Orym shoves Ashton HARD and he DOESN'T go on his arse ... but now he's BACK!!! Oh thank fuck ... but Orym STILL attacks him again ... yeah, now he's IN THE CELLAR ... oof ...

Alright, now what?

High risk plan ... this is SUPREMELY dumb ... I can't wait ... XD

Trying it again ... three jumping in ALL AT ONCE!!! Get pummelling, Ashton! POW!!! Nice ... so that worked? Okay ... Willmaster out again ...

Chetney hogties the kid IN RECORD SPEED ...

Binding the Willmaster too ... so is that it, then? Are we safe again?

Oh, the half-orc? Crap, we forgot ... FCG REGURGITATES some more rope ... ewww ...

Ah yes ... "plausible deniabilty" ... probably best ...

Orym's going to STEAL SOMEBODY'S ESSENCE?!!! Oh boy ... O.O

Prisoner storage? Hmmmm ... yeah, not the best place for it, really ...

Oh, so they're ACTUALLY DOING THIS?!!! Orym is going to drain the Willmaster ... oof ...

So ... Orym has Dominate Person until his next long rest? Sweet ... so is the Willmaster alive or dead? Alive, but definitely NOT HAPPY ...

Unsettling Presence ... on a blindfolded prisoner ... but she still FEELS the Dread, at least ... oh, blindfold off for EXTRA intimidation ... check with ADVANTAGE ... 27? Fuck, Laudna!

Interrogation started ... with someone who NORMALLY only speaks telepathically ... great ... so she has to REMEMBER how to talk again ...

Dominate Person RIGHT AWAY!!! Okay, Wee Man ... oh and it WORKS? Nice ... Orym is the MVP right now ...

What's the ultimate plan for Predathos? Here we go ... eat the gods and take Exandria! Yup ... sounds about right ...

Removing the gods removes major weapons in the coming war? Hmmmmmm ...

Dominate Person is over again ... great ...

The Willmaster is claiming up and doesn't care what else is done to her ... right ... what about the boy, then?

Be a little more gentle with the kid, Chet! Seriously ...

Liam: "Resting witch face." LOL

Kid's definitely a lot easier to talk to, definitely ... a bit of a pushover, really. Do they HAVE TO kill him? Oh, could they maybe TURN HIM?!!! That could be really useful ... oh, dies HE know Imogen's mum?

Lilliana's HERE then? Still busy?

Oh, so she's gonna try and BLUFF IT? Hmmmm ... oh, that's interesting, is that REALLY gonna work?

The half-orc? Oh, Northern potential Exalted? Hmmm ... so they might be sble to keep this ... Verdo alive? That WOULD be helpful ...

Wait ... they're considering CONTINUING the draining ritual ... well, that's IS one way to get rid of the Willmaster ... and also PRETTY FUCKING DARK, too ...

Ashton's fiendish reasoning is pretty Machiavellian ...

Grim Psychometry? On the Harness? Whoa there, Chet ...

Images of past torture and murder? Oh goodie ... wow, this is DEFINITELY getting dark ... oh yeah, Matt I am NOT enjoying the implications of THAT little description ...

Ashton's right, in the end it's up to Orym ...

So, now they're going to try and win Verdo over ... hmmmmm ...

Ashton's suggesting they try an "internal affairs" style strongarming for this one ... sounds smart ...

Deception check! Roll good Laura ... 23? Sweet again! Still on fire!

This is REALLY SMART, making both these kids think they're going to be secret allies in this little internal investigation.

And they've convinced him too, clearly. Nice.

What, considering perhaps probing deeper on the Willmaster to learn more? Yes, could be smart.

So Verdo and Petrov are going back to the caravan? Good. Very good ... that was definitely a much more fortunate turn of events.

Yes, Laudna ... intimidate away! And then some sweet soothing healing ...

Fearne and FCG are going with them to the caravan ... as much because they don't WANT TO be there when the Willmaster is killed ... yeah ...

I'm with Sam ... WHAT ARE THESE ROLLS, Matthew?

Oh shit ... who's this? OH SHIT ... FUCKING OTOHAN THULL?!!! SERIOUSLY?!!!

NOW?!!! We're taking a break NOW?!!!

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck ... this is SO BAD ... we are in such DEEP SHIT right now ...

Great ... Matt has a Battlemap prepped ... that's never a good sign ... cue Wizzkids plug, anyway ...

Wow ... Fearne is ACTUALLY hoping to try snd bluff pretending to go back for a forgotten purse. Meanwhile FCG just Misty Steps away ... crap ... that's not suspicious at all ...

I'm sorry, I just CANNOT imagine Fearne possibly managing to move NONCHALANTLY ...

Crap ... she's been rumbled ... and she's just PRETENDING not to have heard her ... O.O

And now Otohan has just DROPPED OUT OF THE AIR right in front of them ... blades OUT at their throats ... eep ...

STILL trying to bluff their way through ...

Oh great, now her weird shadow clones are out too ... this just keeps getting worse ...

A Message? Really? Oh boy ...

Deception check? Roll good Sam ... 12? Oh for fuck's sake ...

Wow ... Fearne just BLURTED IT OUT didn't she? And Otohan knows EXACTLY what that means .. crap ...

Snd now she's ATTACKING!!! FUCK!!! Initiative? Really? NOT NOW!!!

Psionic Strike? Crap ... oh man, seriously Fearne has NO CHANCE of winning this ...

FCG is DOWN and taking a whole lot of hits! Crap ... so Fearne tries ANOTHER bluff ... Imogen's in the city? Hmmm ...

Otohan is unconvinced and so makes more attacks on FCG ... he just sends a message to the others and tells them to just RUN? Oof ...

FCG tries a 6th Level Banish on her ... and she uses Legendary Resistance to beat it ... crap ... so he TRIES IT ON FEARNE AND HIMSELF instead? Blimey ... this is ambitious ...

Poof ... they're both GONE ... and now they're trying to TURN INTO CLOUDS?!!! Wow ...

Ashton bundles the Willmaster in the Hole while Laudna casts Hunger of the Shadow on her? Okay ... then he smacks the Elder to make it look more convincing ...

Oh shit ... is fucking DELILAH coming back? Really?

Well anyway, that's it, Laudna's just EATING the Willmaster, essentially ... that's just HORRIBLE ... meanwhile FUCK OFF, DELILAH!!!

Okay, so they're ALL turning into clouds ...

The Banish ends and both Fearne and FCG come back ... with 2 Echoes waiting for them? Shit!

16 points of slashing damage to FCG, 12 to Fearne ... RUN!!! But that does mean attacks of opportunity ...

FCG takes another 14 points ... but now they're BOOKING IT ... but Otohan's in HOT PURSUIT ... thank fuck they're all faster ...

Okay, they NEED to get back together and just GET THE FUCK OUT OF THERE!!!

"Fluff around and find out!" Nice one, Laudna ... XD

So, to avoid Otohan ... good point ... maybe go off in a different direction first before anything else, throw her off before making a move ...

Off the beaten path sounds VERY GOOD right about now ...

Liam is made to roll a D20 ... 2? Balls ... zfter zn hour they're heading into a storm ... great ...

Where to go? Time for high perception to pay off ... doesn't look too promising ... just landing beyond a cliff, basically ...

Bones? NOT a good sign ... there are caves but I REALLY don't trust this place AT ALL ...

Into one of them, then. Rushing water? Here? Interesting ...

An underground river ... okay ... tree roots? Hmmmm ...

A crack? Is that REALLY a good idea?

They're going in ... sharp edges on the walls? NOT a good sign ... worms? Hmmmmm ... I fucking hope not ...

Oh, it's a GEODE? Fascinating ...

Water ... hmmmm ...

Changing back, then? Great ... meanwhile they're going swimming ...

Dancing Lights and FCG's glowy eyes ...

Fearne has Water Breathing? Oh nice ... that's actually REALLY helping ... meanwhile Orym uses Second Wind to get some health back ...

Diving in, then ... I have SUCH a bad feeling about this ... Chetney takes a whiff just before he goes down ... interesting, but nothing potentially worrying ...

Swimming now ...

FCG produces a little periscope from his back ... "I'm a yellow submarine!" Awwww ... XD

With, against or ACROSS the current?

"Flask reveal in 1" ... what the hell, Sam?

31 Passive Perception now? FUCKING HELL, Orym ...

Dancing Lights BELOW, now ... yeah, that deep water creeps me out too ...

Surfacing ... very big cavern ... waterfall close by emptying into here ... structures? Interesting ... a TEMPLE?!!! Wow ... it's ELVEN?!!! Wow ... really old, and definitely ruined ...

Somewhere to rest, at least ... might be worth trying ...

Laudna Spiderclimbs up the wall with some rope ... there's greenery here? Enchanted gardens? Wow ... oh this is BEAUTIFUL ...

Seems empty and deserted ... bones? Great ... but just remains of yhe old inhabitants, looks like. Seems safe enough.

Immovable Rod, she ties the rope and lets the others come up.

History check for Orym ... 14? Nothing major to go on ...

Grim Psychometry ... yes, that's smart ...

Nothing concrete, just feelings. Sounds like cataclysmic chaos ...

Keep going? Use up the rest of the Cloud Form? Hmmmm ... no, they just walk for now, moving deeper ...

Fancy little porcelain doll ...

FCG: "These people were very small." Matt breaks a little ... XD

Immune to poison still? Okay ... eat the berries! Delicious ... and they get EXTRA HIT POINTS!!! Goodberries! NICE!!! They pick extra ...

Carrying on ...

Either fight through and up against a fast flowing waterfall from a crack in the wall, of try climbing up the cliff?

Where does the water COME FROM? Interesting ...

Wait ... does this lead to that FOUNTAIN Fearne swam into as a fish ghat one time? O.O

A "leaf sheep sea slug"? Intriguing ...

Wildshape ... here we go ...

No, in the end Fearne decides to turn into a salmon instead ... in she goes ...

Rolling for athletics ... 17? Okay ...

Struggling and fighting through ... then POOF!!! Out into gentle waters ...

Holy fuck, she is NO LONGER ON RUIDUS ... and they can't communicate with her anymore ...

Matt: "And THAT'S where we're gonna call it a night!"

AAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!! The fourth wall has broken!

[giggasnap]

(SPOILERS FOR FIONNA AND CAKE EP 9 AND 10)

live thoughts as I watch the episode

LSP spaghetti guts? Ew

SIMON INSIDE THE FUCKING FRIDGE WHAT THE FUCK???? WHAT??? PENNYWISE HEAD ASS

oh thank God it was a dream. Maybe

oh no. I can already tell cake being magic is gonna fuck everything up

Gary and Marshall wholesome yaoi

Fionna you sound and look insane

MY BABYGIRL THE LICH WHAT ARE YOU PRAYING TO HONEY

SIMON WHY WOULD YOU KICK HIM

The lich is kind of pretty okay I won't even lie. He can be a little pretty. Also this is the most he's ever spoken

AHHH HES SO COOL I KNEW IT I KNEW HE WASNT SATISFIED KILLING EVERYTHING

I love you Mister Lich also what is that weird black box on your chest. Oh no.

HOLY SHIT WHAT. BRO GOT CUBED???? FREE MY MAN!!!!!

Simon I think you might die dude

Aw I remember shermy and beth

Uhm. What. I mean I guess that makes sense for Betty to do but also what. Also I'm still hung up on the lich cubes all around Golbetty can we like address that

Scarab I think you are going to suffer a horrific fate my guy

I was right

CAKE YOU ARE SCARING THE GAYS

"I would still date you if you were a vampire" we know dude we know

SIMON CANNOT DO "ANYTHING" BRO IS STRUGGLING TO MATERIALIZE RIGHT NOW

Shermy Simon is cute

PRISMO!!!!

I just keep wondering where all of this is going

oh fuck the book failed

LSP NOOO

EPSIODE 9 ENDS LIKE THAT WHAT THE FUCK

literally one last episode and then its over. What. I'm scared

Guys. I think we are fucked. I dunno though.

Oooo animation is cool

This is neat but what is actually occuring right now

CHOOSE GOOSE!????

WAIT PAWN SWAN???

"get outta here!" Omg

THE MIDDLE FINGER??? OKAY

Simonshermy maybe we should just go visit BMO and see if he has the crown. That seems more plausible than whatever we're doing here.

WHAT IS GOING ON. WHY ARE YOU PUKING BLUE.

"he's hot" Marshall. There are bigger things to worry about but also valid

Scarab petty as hell but we've known that

aw perry is neat

NO PERRY

"our post office! That was our oldest building" FIONNA stop this I'm going to tear up

"go cake!" "Love you, fi!" GUYS THEYRE ADORABLE

Nova and Casper are obviously Simon and Betty parallels somehow. I feel it.

I knew it. Which will you choose.

Oh my god. Simon is having a realization.

"Nova was obsessed with Casper" "but I thought they were in love" "they were! But it wasn't exactly on equal footing." Oh my god everyone shut up while I cry for three billion years.

Oh no. Simon will do something. What is he going to do Im scared.

Bye ash. Also fuck ash in all universes

Gary. Bruh

MARSHALL NOW IS NOT THE TIME!!!!

Simon please bro don't do anything too extreme I'm scared he'll kill himself high-key

I WILL START SOBBING. NEVER TALK TO ME AGAIN

I don't even know what to say anymore. Fionna and cake about to get vaporized

SIMON FUCKING BANSHEE SCREECHING. THE ONLY THING THAT GETS THIS GUY FIRED UP HIS IS BABIES GETTING MESSED WITH HIS BABIES BEING FINN FIONNA OR MARCELINE

so does this count as a golbetty wish or a Prismo wish

SCARAB WHAT THE FUCK

VAMPIRE WORLD FINN!!!

GIANT BUFF FIONNA LETS GOOOO

Simon getting actual therapy yes

[hedgehog-cynder]

flower boy review : fucking beautiful no complaints beyond rating on any scale. ill note some things about every song cause :3

foreword: holy shit what an opener. nothing lasts forever, nothing sticks together????? absolutely heart wrenching. amazing lyrics amazing everything THE ENDING SYNTHS?,$,%?"? breathtaking i swear to god

where this flower blooms: i would just like to say AGSGDGSUSHDHSGSHDJSHAHDGSJAGSGSJSGDD. instrumentals are beautiful tyler sounds beautiful frank sounds beautiful lyrics are chefs kiss what else is there left

sometimes...: i dont care if its one minute long I dont care its so fucking pretty and soft and sobbing material. on my first listen it jumpscared me because i thought it was BOYFRIEND. also the voice of the radio host is very comforting and helps me not dissociate

see you again: 20-20 20-20 vision cupid hit me cupid hit me with precision i wonder if u look both ways when u cross my mind i said i said im sick of sick of sick of sick of chasing ure the one thats always running through my daydreams i i can only see ur face when i close my eyes its so fucking beautiful kalis voice is heavenly this song makes me want to die

who dat boy: god everything about this one is just fucking beautiful the synths the lyrics the delivery asap sounds just so fucking good. everythings just. AGHDGDHSG and the ending feels like getting run over /pos

pothole: this is probably a song ill use to demonstrate tyler as an artist to whoevers interested in my autistic rambling cause. its one of the longer songs in the album its got stops n twists n turns the instrumental is to die for jadens voice is just so pretty. its one of The tyler songs to me. but dont take that last part seriously cause i say it about every song

garden shed: this one is the first song off flower boy ive ever listened to. it is just So. ITS JUST SO!!!!! estelles voice the slow pacing its such a good waltz. i would have to write out the whole lyrics because theres no one part of them i love more. its just so beautiful

boredom: everything about this song makes me feel like im going to die if i dont hold head in hands dramatically. its so vulnerable and heart breaking annas voice the harmonies the orchestrals everything just makes me want to sob. the end is especially devastating. another one im gonna use to explain tyler

i aint got time: god where to begin. whatever sample he used in there is fucking perfect for the job everythings so good and stimulating his delivery is flawless everything makes me wanna jump and kick and dance its all just beautiful. the ending is very silly i love it and also WOAHHHHHH. FUCK YEA GOOD FOR HIM

911 / mr lonely: just thinking about it is devastating. every time i listen to it i am mentally on the floor in fetal position. its so sorrowful and emotional while having the best motherfucking instrumentals and delivery like GOD i never doubted him but this man really does it all

droppin seeds: ok this is where my notes will fall a little flat. i cant take mentions of sex in any capacity seriously i am sorry. its a beautiful song though and i love it

november: oh god this one BREAKS me. its so emotional and open and i cant fucking get enough of it. and yet again it does so while being a FUCKING BANGER. the last verse always hits like a sack of wet mice and oh is it really bitch u know the dealy really hilly willy tilly silly hold that billy how i milly rock is soon going to become my newest vocal stim and i have no choice but to accept it

glitter: god what a devastating sad song. it really captures what its talking about. how joyful and cute and loving it is AND THEN the lowered pitch & tempo please dont save me the repetition of how ya feel? the kinda second half is all so much like being stuck in heartbreak i love it. it makes me feel like im falling from heaven. plausibly crowley style

enjoy right now, today: honestly with the sad note glitter ends on this one sounds so bright in comparison its fucking hilarious. i honestly didnt expect it to be almost fully instrumental but holy shit if anything it just shows how good he is even without lyrics. i have also never heard a more work at a pizza place song in my LIFE and its honestly making me wanna redownload roblox just cause i feel nostalgic. FUCK what a good closer

yeah thats it im done <3

[thedoubteriswise]

okay so. I am a smart adult with many important responsibilities. I have good taste and care about things that matter. for this reason, I’ve been trying to identify where in cql canon wangxian manage to fuck.

because they definitely do; I like a good post-canon getting together fic as much as the next guy, but it’s just not realistic.

allow them. it’s already been so long.

(just like this goddamn post turned out to be, let’s do a cut)

right. so initially it looks like you could place this right after the time skip in episode 33, because it shows us that wwx is with lwj in cloud recesses. we know that he spent the night in the jingshi because he wakes up there the next morning before he goes for a nostalgic tour of his old school.

and also visits the cold spring, where lwj is mostly naked. nice.

but wait! wwx is surprised by the scars on his back and chest. that seems like something he would have known about if they’d already been naked together the night before, so I’m going to say they did not fuck immediately upon wwx’s return to cloud recesses. okay, fine, they’re taking things slow, that’s cool.

maybe they could work it into the next night, then. oh wait, lqr is injured and... staying in the jingshi? for reasons?

I don’t know why. he must have his own house in cloud recesses, and it’s probably at least as comfortable as lwj’s, but here he is. he lives to stop his nephew from getting laid, I guess.

the next day they do some Q&A with the kids and determine that they need to head to qinghe to figure out what’s going on with this sword thing. great! we love a romantic road trip, plenty of alone time. but they also have to do their jobs, and then jin ling needs to get rescued from a wall of dirt, and jc is unfortunately there being himself, and then they have to grill nhs about his tomb full of angry sabers, etc. etc.

with all that going on, their next obvious chance is at the inn immediately after interviewing nhs. this evening has already included:

wwx gazing lovingly at lwj from afar

lwj carrying wwx on his back

lwj pawing at wwx’s robes trying to deal with his cursed leg

lwj helping wwx up the stairs, serving him wine, fixing his flute, and generally being at his beck and call

a very sexy and homoerotic duet

and now they’re alone and drooling over each other as usual. this seems like a plausible spot, right?

it does! but no. after they go back to the nie basement o’ swords and hear the backstory on nmj’s death, we see them walking in yueyang and lwj asks wwx how the curse mark on his leg is doing. wwx says it’s almost healed, which may or may not be a lie, but his inner monologue says:

he’s more concerned about the wound on his arm from the sacrificing curse, which lwj doesn’t know about, because wwx won’t tell him and they still haven’t been naked together.

also, this silly teenage shit doesn’t make much sense unless they’re still dancing around each other.

you guys love the sound of opportunities as they go flying past, don’t you?

right after this, lwj gets drunk. I’m aware that Stuff Happens in the novel scene that inspired this bit, and they do incorporate some of that into the show by having lwj commit petty larceny and admit that he “likes rabbits” as part of the softest and most loving conversation in human history oh my god

but lwj goes to sleep right on time, and the next morning, wwx is laughing and reassuring him that nothing happened.

after this, it’s time to go on a fucked up field trip with the kids in yi city, so they don’t really have any time alone for a few episodes until they’ve finished that and everyone is back at yet another inn. I wonder if they learned something about wasted chances and poor communication from this miserable songxiao story?

maybe! look, they’re being cute and domestic. there are currently no material barriers preventing them from having sex, nor will there be any specific evidence later on proving that they didn’t.

but they’re still firmly in mystery-solving mode and the juniors and lxc are floating around. the vibe isn’t quite there. if I were to pick the most solid reason why I think they’re saving room for jesus at this point, it would be the tension that happens when wwx again asks how lwj recognized him. lwj asks why his memory is so bad, and wwx replies that he wishes he had a bad memory. even though they’re comfortable and happy being together, there’s still some fundamental distance remaining. there’s no sense of romantic resolution. that was actually a point against all their previous opportunities as well; they’re all very sweet, but none of these feel like the place in a story where the romantic leads Officially Get Together.

okay, off to koi tower! shit is getting extremely real. everyone’s busy insinuating that they recognize wwx, but no one is saying it explicitly. wwx isn’t supposed to be here. the guy he’s pretending to be also isn’t supposed to be here. he and his boyfriend and his boyfriend’s brother are trying to figure out if his boyfriend’s brother’s boyfriend is a murderer. no one is comfortable and the political intrigue leaves no time for fucking in front of anyone’s salad.

I guess there’s plenty of time to make dozens of armed guards and like half the people they know wait while they have a romantic moment, though.

could they be more in love? And that sure feels like a romantic resolution that might be followed by narratively-earned sex.

ah. no, unfortunately wwx gets stabbed again. this certainly sucks, but it does have the helpful consequence of making lwj take him back to cloud recesses, where they are mostly alone and as safe as they can be in the circumstances. now there’s even more tenderness and also some plot-justified touching and skin exposure. plus, lwj just made a very public declaration of love.

too bad wwx has probably been unconscious since he started coughing up blood in the forest near lanling. he’s also still visibly in pain. fresh abdominal wounds tend to kill the mood.

but hey, the injuries on this show are only as serious as they need to be to move the plot forward and facilitate gentle h/c scenes, so by evening he’s looking perfectly healthy and walking around under his own steam like nothing’s wrong. I guess that problem can be ignored moving forward.

lxc then offers the the most devastating highlights of lwj’s backstory, like, all at once. it’s nice that he includes a flute solo to give wwx a second to process this mountain of terrible information. what the fuck.

there he is! the most devoted man in the whole world! turns out they can actually be more in love after all.

and then the following scene... look, I’m lazy and I don’t know how to make gifs, but screenshots cannot properly convey how good it is. you all know. the hesitant way wwx approaches, the slow and gentle piano version of wangxian, the two of them watching the snow together, it’s. ugh.

remember how I was talking about how the last scene with no material barriers was an unlikely candidate because of the lack of romantic resolution?

well, here’s wwx still being cagey at the beginning of this conversation.

and here they are in the middle of this conversation, having some epiphanies about the course of wwx’s life - I love this shot for a lot of reasons, but I extra love it because it shows wwx out in the snow, with lwj as the safety and warmth waiting behind him, god this show goes hard, holy shit

they both recall their vow to live with a clean conscience and internally say some very corny things about each other because they are both So Much, and then,

ah, what the hell. he can say it out loud after all. romantic resolution accomplished.

and then the camera slowly pulls away as wuji plays.

a slow zoom out? swelling music? listen, I am a connoisseur, I know a tasteful fade-to-black indicating a sex scene that won’t happen on camera when I see one. at last, we have a winner!

now you may think this post is finally over, but I actually have one more piece of evidence for you - the next scene shows the two of them the morning after, meditating behind a screen in the hanshi while lxc is waiting for jgy to show up.

before wwx got de-cored, he was a pretty powerful cultivator, right? the chances that he’s just bad at meditating or that he can’t stay focused on this task seem slim to me. so why does he keep falling asleep?

well. he had kind of a late night.

[drabbles-mc]

You Came Back (1/3)

Juice Ortiz x Reader

Request from @ateliefloresdaprimavera​: Juice has a special place in my heart, so I'm denying his ending on the show😭 I want to foccus on the nurturing,fluffy and romantic side that he deserves😍 maybe something about Opie and Jax childhood friend who comes back to charming( Gemma always thought of her as her own kid) and she's really closed of emotionaly, bit our boy is smitten from the second he has his eyes on her. so romantic Juice overdrive, and she starts to see this side of life that's worth, by his side

Warnings: language

Word Count: 2.8k

Chapter Index: Part 2 , Part 3

A/N: Okay so I maaaay have gotten a little carried away with this request (hence it being three parts lmao) but I just felt like to do it right I had to make it longer than a one-shot. Hope you don’t mind! My love for Juice knows no bounds so it’s easy for me to get a little over zealous lol

You rolled into the lot at T-M, turning the radio down as you did. Everything looked pretty much exactly the same as when you left all those years back. You wondered if any of the guys ever actually got out of Charming, or if they all fell into the routine and stayed. You shook your head at yourself, knowing that you weren’t really any different—all those years you spent out of Charming and somehow you ended up right back in it. Maybe you just weren’t meant to stay away.

You parked and took a deep breath, trying to give yourself the will to step out of the vehicle. You looked around the lot, seeing all the bikes lined up together made your heart speed up. You glanced over to the shop itself, not seeing any familiar faces at first. You sighed, finally making yourself cut the ignition and get out of the car.

The walk to the office felt like it was a mile long. The door was ajar, but you still knocked before entering. You heard an unmistakable voice on the other side, “Come in.”

You stepped inside, waiting for Gemma to look up from the papers in front of her. Her eyes flicked up, expecting to see someone else, anyone else, but there you were. It took a second for it all to register, but as soon as it did a smile broke out across her face. She stood up and walked around the desk, wrapping you in a hug.

“Well, well,” she laughed, stepping back so she could get a good look at you, “Didn’t expect to see you rolling in here any time soon.”

You laughed, shaking your head slightly, “Yea, me neither I guess.”

“What brings you here, sweetheart?” she could see the stress on your face.

You sighed, “Don’t really know. I had to go somewhere, and I ended up here.”

She smiled, nodding, “All my kids always make it back home,” she saw you open your mouth to argue and held her hand up to stop you, “Blood isn’t what makes someone my kid. If I ever fed you in my house, you’re my kid.”

You smiled and nodded, glad to be surrounded by the familiarity of it all. You thought that it would’ve changed over the years but you supposed that you should’ve known better. Charming, and all the people in it, seemed untouched by time. You had no idea if you were going to be able to blend back into it after being away for so long.

“That mean that Jax is around here somewhere too?”

Gemma smiled and nodded, “Clubhouse. I’m sure they’ll be excited to see you. C’mon, I’ll walk with you.”

The two of you walked side-by-side in silence. You knew that Gemma had questions, but you knew that she would wait until the excitement died down to pull you aside to ask you them. Today was just about finding everyone else again. Down the road you’d get around to finding yourself again, too.

Gemma swung open the door to the clubhouse, “Look who I found, wandering around the lot.”

Jax and Opie were both seated at the bar, smiles breaking out across their faces the second they saw you. They both stood up and came over to greet you, and you reveled in the warmth of their hugs.

“Holy shit,” Jax chuckled and shook his head, “Never thought I’d be seeing you again.”

“That seems to be the trend,” you said with a nervous smile.

Opie draped his arm around your shoulder, completely enveloping you as he pulled you against his chest again, “Welcome home.”

You laughed into his kutte, “What a welcome it is.”

You recognized some of the other faces in the clubhouse. Truthfully you weren’t ever overly close with the guys in the club. You were all nice to each other, but growing up with Jax and Opie you made a conscious decision to stay just far enough out of club drama and business to keep yourself safe. They were your best friends and you loved them, but you made a point to not know too much. Plausible deniability was key.

“Come, sit,” Jax flashed a smile, “have a beer.”

“You sure?”

He chuckled, “Yea. We ain’t got shit to do.”

Opie smiled at you, “Besides, how long has it been? Seven years? Eight?”

“Nine,” you said as you pulled away.

“Jesus Christ,” Jax said with a shake of his head, “Where does the time go?”

The three of you were sat at the bar, catching up on the broad strokes of what your lives had been like since the last time you were all in a room together. You always said that you were going to keep in touch with them when you left, but it never happened. You could blame it on a lot of different things, but deep down you knew that if you kept in touch you wouldn’t have stayed away. Charming was like a magnet and there was no denying its pull if you ever got too close.

“I do see some new faces though, right?” you laugh, “Some of these guys definitely weren’t here before.”

Jax chuckled, nodding, “You’re right. Got some new brothers hanging around. This is Half-Sack,” he nodded towards the young man who was behind the bar, trying and failing at not being obvious about staring at you, “He’s our latest Prospect.”

“N-nice to meet you, Y/N,” he nodded quickly as he went back to whatever he had been doing behind the bar beforehand.

You smiled and shook your head as you took another look around the clubhouse, “Who else is new?” you paused, chuckling to yourself, “Who else is new and actually matters?”

Opie chimed in, nodding to the far side of the clubhouse, “Only other new kid in the club is Juice.”

“Not hiring very many people these days, huh?” you chuckled, nudging Opie’s shoulder, “They stop bringing in new talent after you patched in?”

“Who else would they need?” his smile made your heart melt.

“Ope, Jax,” Clay came bursting into the clubhouse, “Church, now.”

“We’ll pick this up later,” Jax kissed you on the cheek, “It’s good to have you home.”

Opie pulled you into a half-assed headlock, kissing the top of your head before trailing behind Jax and following him into the chapel of the clubhouse. You watched in silent awe as the other men filtered into the room, shutting the doors behind them.

You turned and looked at the prospect, “You’re gonna miss roll call.”

He smiled, shaking his head, “I don’t go in there unless explicitly instructed.”

“What’s your name?” you sipped on your beer while you waited for his response.

“It’s Kipp,” he only met your eyes for a second.

“Mind if I call you that instead of Half-Sack?” you chuckled.

His cheeks flushed slightly, “You can call me whatever you want.”

You laughed and shook your head but didn’t make any other comment about it. He seemed sweet, and you thought to yourself that maybe you didn’t give the other guys in the club enough of a chance. Maybe you kept a little too much distance from everyone. Maybe if you hadn’t you wouldn’t have had to leave to end up right back where you started, you just would’ve stayed.

When the chapel doors opened up again, the men started trickling out one by one. You didn’t see Jax, Opie, or Clay come back out right away though. You didn’t have much of anywhere else to be, so you stayed put to wait. The prospect brought you another beer when he saw that you weren’t going anywhere.

You were looking down at your phone when someone popped up and sat down on the stool next to yours. It took you a moment to look up and see who it was. You were greeted with a warm smile as the man next to you gave you a once-over.

“I’m Juice,” he nodded with a grin.

You smiled, holding out your hand, “Y/N.”

“I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before.”

You laughed, shaking your head, “You haven’t. I’m an…old friend of Jax and Opie. I haven’t been around in a while. Just got back to Charming.”

“Welcome back.”

You smiled, “Thanks. You’re new, too, yea? You weren’t here when I left.”

He chuckled, “New seems like a strong word.”

The two of you sat and made small talk for a few minutes. There was a warmth that radiated from his smile that made you feel like you’d known him your whole life. You wondered if maybe the club was turning over a new leaf. The newest members seemed like they were cut from a different cloth and it was reassuring to you.

Jax appeared behind you, resting his hands on your shoulders, “This guy givin’ you a problem, Y/N?” you could hear the smile in his voice.

You shook your head, “Not at all. Just helping me kill time until you two jokers got out of your little meeting with Clay.”

“How long you in town for?” Jax asked.

You shrugged, “Until further notice?” you tried to play it off with a smile, not wanting to talk about how you had ended up back in Charming, “Why? That desperate to get rid of me already?”

He hugged you back against his chest, almost pulling you off the stool, “Nah, never. Where you staying?”

You sighed, leaning your head back against him, “Haven’t figured that part out yet.”

“You can stay with me until you figure it out,” he offered up, “Beats paying for a motel.”

“You sure?”

He nodded, “Of course. Not giving you any more reasons to skip town on us again,” he held his hand out to help you off the stool, “C’mon, you can follow me and we can get you settled in.”

You let him help you, relieved that you had a place to stay, and that it was with someone that you trusted, “Thank you, Jax. I owe you one,” you turned back to Juice, “Nice meeting you.”

“Yea,” there was a small smirk on his face, “you too,” he watched you and Jax walk out of the clubhouse, laughing together as the door shut behind you. He turned to Opie, “Who is she?”

He shook his head with a knowing smile, clapping Juice on the back, “She’s out of your league, brother.”

Juice laughed at the remark, but wasn’t able to take his eyes away from the door that you had just walked out of. He might not have known you yet, but he was hoping that that wouldn’t be the case for long. You felt like a breath of fresh air. He drummed his fingertips on the surface of the bar, the wheels in his mind beginning to turn.

It took a few days to get comfortable staying in Jax’s house. He was more than accommodating, but you were still struggling with being back in Charming. Any time he tried to pry a little more into what your life had been like once you left, and what it was that made you decide to come back, you clammed up. You weren’t good enough at lying to try, especially not with someone who knew you as well as Jax did. He eventually backed off when he realized that he was just going to have to wait for you to be comfortable talking about it in your own time. But you still felt like there were a few degrees of separation between the two of you.

“Plans today?” he asked as he sat across from you at the table, taking a sip of his coffee.

You sighed and shook your head, “Not really. Still waiting to hear back from a couple of the places I sent applications out to.”

“If you need something in the meantime, I’m sure we could find a spot for you at T-M.”

You shook your head, not wanting to accept charity, or pity, “No, you don’t have to do that. You guys have a full house there as it is.”

He smiled, “Nah, my mom could always use the help. She says it all the time.”

You chuckled, “Needing you guys to do your jobs and needing extra help aren’t the same thing.”

He laughed, “See? You two’ll work well together. Why don’t you come with me today and you can talk to her?”

“And say what? Just walk in and say, I’m poor, please give me a job?”

“Isn’t that what all job interviews are like?”

You laughed, not able to disagree, “I mean, I guess, yea,” you sighed, “Alright, fine. But I’m not talking to her alone.”

“You don’t need backup, Y/N.”

“Listen, I know your mom likes me, but she’s still one of the scariest fucking people I’ve ever met. So, you’re talking to her with me.”

He caved, the way you knew that he would. You followed him to the shop in your car, him on his bike. You laughed at the way he would speed ahead of you and force you to play catch-up. It felt like you were teenagers again and for a few minutes your heart felt lighter.

When the two of you rolled into the lot, things seemed quiet. The guys were working in the shop, and you looked around trying to picture potentially being here all day every day. You had no idea what that would be like, what you would even really do.

“Hey, baby,” Gemma walked up and hugged Jax, kissing him on the cheek.

“Hey, Mom,” he turned to you, “Y/N had something that she wanted to talk to you about.”

You pressed your lips together into a thin line—you should’ve known that he was going to hang you out to dry on this. He gave you a pat on the back and took off towards the clubhouse, leaving you and Gemma there outside the office together.

“What’s going on, sweetheart?” she looked at you expectantly.

You sighed, hating that you were about to ask her about this, “Um, so…I’ve just been struggling to pick up a job on short-notice. Jax mentioned that maybe there would be a spot for me here? Just something short-term. I’m not trying to take advantage or anything—if there’s nothing you really need me for here that’s totally fine.”

She smiled, “There’s always something to be done around here,” she gently placed her hand on your arm, “We take care of our own. When can you start?”

You smiled with a shrug, “Now?”

Gemma chuckled, “Perfect. Juice needs an extra pair of hands on a repo run. You okay with that?”

You nodded, “Yea, sure. Will he tell me what I have to do? Because I have no idea,” you laughed.

She smiled with a slight nod, “You’ll be fine,” she waved Juice over, “Juice, c’mere!”

He jogged over, a smile plastered on his face as he looked at you, “What’s up?”

Gemma gestured towards you, “Y/N is working for us for a while. She’s going on the repo run with you today, that alright?”

He nodded immediately, “Yea, of course,” he looked at you with bright eyes, “Good to see you again.”

You smiled, nodding, “You too.”

You could practically feel him vibrating with excitement in the driver’s seat beside you as he drove. You tried to hide the smile that was fighting its way onto your face. You asked him what he even needed you to do when the two of you worked together. He outlined it all to you and it seemed fairly simple. You had to imagine that it wasn’t the most fun part of the job, but it was still something to keep the both of you busy for a little while.

On top of the repo, Gemma had called and asked the two of you to stop and pick up a few parts that she had ordered for the shop. You waited outside with the truck while Juice went inside to pick them up. He walked back out carrying two large boxes stacked on top of each other.

“Can you get the door?” he asked, voice slightly strained.

You chuckled, “I kinda wanted to see you try to pull it off by yourself.”

The two of you were halfway into your drive back to T-M when Juice spoke up, “Can I ask you something?”

You looked over at him, “Shoot.”

“Are you and Jax…you know…”

You laughed, “Dating?”

He shrugged, “Yea.”

You shook your head, unable to stop laughing, “No, no we are not. We’re just good friends. I love him but, yea, no,” you searched his face for a reaction, “Why?”

He tried to play it off, “No reason, just curious. You guys just seem close, is all.”

“Mhm,” you chuckled and went back to looking out the window, “If you say so.”

[xjoonchildx]

airplane, pt. 2 | jjk x reader  chapter two: san juan

pairing: jungkook/reader word count: 6.6K rating: 18+

genre: smut | silly smut | nonsensical smut

warnings:  criminal!jungkook, koreanamerican!jungkook, reality has left the chat, plausibility has left the chat

A/N: okay, ya’ll. I really never intended to make this story anything more than a one-shot...but a couple of people asked for more and then the wheels started turning, and I had more than a little crush on this sexy, smartassed jungkook. so here we are! I hope you guys like it.

xoxo

Chapter 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06

artwork by the shmexy @ppersonna​ who’s smut is even better than her art

************************

You still think about Jungkook Jeon.

You think about him when you spot his beautiful face on the poster in the hallway at your office, with the word WANTED emblazoned across the top.

You think about him every time you fly because you leave condoms behind in the bathroom like some kind of kinky Fairy Godmother.

And sometimes -- late at night, after you’ve had a glass of wine -- you shut your eyes and think about him when you slip between the sheets and then slip a hand into your panties.

You wonder where in the world he is and how he’s getting away with life on the run -- again.

Though technically he’s not your problem anymore.

The Marshals took over his case after he pulled his vanishing act in Los Angeles, so it’s some other poor sap’s job to find him and bring him in.  You’d done your part -- you’d tracked him down and brought him to the States, even got him before a judge.  

So what happened after that didn’t happen on your watch.

Totally out of your hands.

No reason for you to still obsess over how it all went down.

At all.

Right?

************************

The humidity in San Juan hits you like a wall the second you step out of Muñoz Marín International Airport.

You quickly scan the throng of waiting drivers and find the one holding the sign with your name on it.  The suit you’d worn on the plane is already sticking to the backs of your thighs in this heat.

“Welcome to Puerto Rico,” the driver smiles warmly, offering to take your luggage off your hands. You smile back as you follow him to the line of cars idling outside.

The ding of a text alert distracts you for a moment.  

You pull out your phone and see it’s your boss, checking to make sure your flight landed on time.  The driver opens the car door and you slip inside while he pops the trunk to put your bags away.  

You’re so busy tapping out a response that you don’t realize something is off until the driver raps twice on the back of the car.

Because that’s a signal for the car to go.

Because the man behind the wheel is not the man who just loaded you and your bags into this car.

Because the man behind the wheel is --

“Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you breathe, eyes wide on the reflection in the rearview mirror.

He’s got a snapback pulled low over his face but you can still see his eyes. And you’d know those eyes anywhere. You’ve thought about those eyes a lot more than you’d like to admit.

“That -- “ Jungkook says, pressing the gas, “-- is the weirdest way to say you missed me, too.”

He tilts his head up so you can catch the reflection of his wide smile.

You are in a car with Jungkook Jeon. In a moving car with Jungkook Jeon.  

“Start talking,” you snap.  

“Sure. What do you want to talk about?”

You slump back into the seat and clap a hand over your face. Damn this man and damn his stupid, smart-assed, beautiful mouth.

“Where are you taking me?”

Jungkook snorts at the note of panic in your voice.  

“To your hotel, dummy.  You have a meeting in like, two hours.”

“Unbelievable,” you sigh after a moment. “Do I even want to know how you know all of this?”

“Well in my defense,” he starts, “you guys still have really shitty firewalls.  You’ve got a lot of nerve calling yourselves an intelligence agency with that set-up in place.”

“I’ll be sure to pass along your feedback,” you mutter.

“You should. So anyway, I was reading through your emails one day -- you know, as I do -- and I saw you were coming to town. I couldn’t pass up the chance to see you.”

Holy shit.

That’s a lot to take in right now and you’re still trying to process the series of events that led up to you, in a car with Jungkook Jeon.  You keep asking questions because it seems like the only sane thing to do in this entirely insane situation.

“You read my emails.”

“Yeah.”

“How often?”

“Uh….all the time?”

You blow out an exasperated breath.  

“You’re a real piece of work. Just what makes you think I won’t have this car surrounded by Feds by the time we get to the hotel?”

“You could,” he concedes thoughtfully. He looks up from the road for a moment to lock eyes with you in the rearview. “But we both know you won’t.”

His certainty makes you bristle.  Is he right about that?

You force yourself to look away from him and redirect your gaze outside to watch the carefully landscaped palm trees speed by.  He’s been here for some time, you think, as he navigates the streets with ease.  He doesn’t seem to be looking for his next turn or second-guessing which way to go. He’s not even using GPS.

“You are in some deep shit back home, Mr. Jeon,” you say, finally. “You embarrassed them. They hate being embarrassed.”

He chuckles.

“Don’t you think it’s time to drop the formalities, Agent? I’ve had my tongue in your pussy, you know.”

He startles a laugh from you with his casual, crass statement of fact.  You forgot how funny he is -- how smart and affable and completely disarming he is.

“Anyway, that’s their problem, not mine,” he continues. “And not yours anymore either, from what I understand.”

Boy, he really wasn’t kidding about those emails.

You mentally rummage through your inbox, try to imagine what information he’s had access to these past few months.  Countless agency messages, a few personal ones and at least one exchange that could qualify as both. You wonder if he’s seen that one, too.  

You clear your throat, uncomfortable with the thought.

“So what’s your plan, then? Hide out in plain sight in a territory of the United States?”

“It’s worked for me so far, hasn’t it?”

You roll your eyes.

“Anyway, my plan right now is to drop you off at this hotel,” Jungkook says, turning into the drive. “Then you’re going to skip that reception they have scheduled for tomorrow night because you’re going to have drinks with me instead.”

You say nothing for a moment.

It’s absurd that your first reaction to his words is a tingle of excitement. It’s ludicrous that you haven’t picked up the phone to call this in by this point. It’s fucking bananas that you’re picturing yourself sharing a drink with this man instead of having him arrested.

The car rolls to a stop.

“Now, as much as I’d love to act the part of a perfect gentleman and help you with those bags, I can’t,” Jungkook says, reaching for his wallet and pulling out a small piece of paper. “Your hotel is crawling with cameras and believe it or not, I’m trying to minimize the number of stupid risks I take these days.”

You snort.

He reaches behind his seat to hand you the note.

“Meet me at this address tomorrow night at 7 o’clock. Be sure to wear something tight, yeah?”

“You are out of your mind,” you say from between clenched teeth, snatching the paper out of his hand.

Jungkook laughs.

“I know, right?”

***********************************

You should call the Marshals.

You should really call the Marshals.

Why haven’t you called the goddamned Marshals?

“ -- do you think, Agent?”

Fuck.  

You can’t seem to keep your mind focused on this meeting and now everyone around the conference table is looking at you.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear that,” you’re forced to admit. “Catch me up?”

“I was saying,” Agent Dominguez starts again, “that given the damage done to the office here in San Juan, we should move agents to the mainland temporarily.  Miami, preferably.”

“Yes,” you agree. “That would be best.  Until we can get things back on track.”

Dominguez smiles in a skeptical way, like he knows you’re preoccupied and he’s curious as to why.  You smile back and hope it’s convincing.  

“We’ll have to go over some logistics, of course, after the final decisions are made,” he continues, turning his attention back to the room at large. “But for now, let’s consider that a flight from Miami is just a hop, skip, and a jump.  It makes sense.”

The rest of the assembled meeting guests murmur in agreement.

Your mind wanders back to that slip of paper tucked away inside your bag at the hotel, back to the man who gave it to you.  The ridiculous, self-assured little asshole who just knows you aren’t going to rat him out. Who just knows you’re going to join him for drinks like he’s not an actual federal fugitive and you’re not an actual federal agent.

Dominguez continues to drone on in the background.

“...and if you look at the numbers, you’ll see post-storm crime is actually way down…”

What you would give to be anywhere but this meeting right now.  You pinch the bridge of your nose, shut your eyes and go down the list of facts as you know them.

He’s been reading your emails.

Following your every move.

He wants to see you tonight.

What the hell is wrong with you that knowing all of this excites you instead of freaking you out? What does it mean that a part of you -- a really big part of you -- wants to take him up on his offer?

******************

Dominguez pulls you aside after the morning round of meetings wraps for lunch.  

“Hey,” he says, stopping you in the hallway.  “Are you alright? You’ve seemed just a little off since yesterday.”

“Yeah, sorry,” you say apologetically. “Been feeling a little off these past two days.”

Not technically a lie?

“Well, I’m sorry to hear that,” Dominguez replies smoothly.

“Hope you’ll be feeling up to attending the reception tonight,” he continues. “I’d hate for you to miss it.”

You offer him a weak smile.  The look on his face right now is making you a bit queasy.

What if they knew? What then?

Once was insane enough. Once could be written off as a mistake, a terrible lapse in judgement.  An embarrassing and regrettable fluke.

But twice? Twice is a choice, a conscious decision.  

Twice would make you complicit -- a co-conspirator, a co-defendant and a whole host of other “C” words you’d rather not contemplate right now.  

There would be no explaining away twice.

You busy yourself with getting a bottled water from the vending machine just to have an excuse to look away. You tell yourself not to be paranoid. You have no reason to suspect they know anything and this is not the time to borrow worry.

“I’m going to try and get some rest after we wrap for the day,” you say finally, opening the bottle to take a drink.  “See if I feel better after that.”

Dominguez’s smile doesn’t reach his eyes.  

“You do that, Agent.”

***********************

Wrapped in a towel, fresh from a shower, you alternate between staring at yourself in the bathroom mirror and looking back at that damning piece of paper in your hand.

You should put on the nice-but-work-appropriate cocktail dress you’d chosen for the reception that you should be attending tonight.  You should drop this piece of paper in the trash, forget Jungkook Jeon exists and move on.  You should be having drinks with your colleagues from the San Juan office in an hour, making decisions that don’t amount to career suicide and living life on the straight and narrow like a normal fucking human being.

Should, should, should.

You walk over to your suitcase and pull out a slim-cut sundress with spaghetti straps instead. You smooth your hands over the delicate material, imagine the light weight of the fabric would feel just right in this humid weather.  You slip the dress over your shoulders, smooth it down with your hands, turn from side to side to assess the fit.

For a moment you close your eyes and allow yourself to imagine Jungkook slipping his hands underneath this dress, pushing the hem up your thighs. You imagine his thumbs and fingers circling the sensitive skin there.  His lips on your neck.  His voice in your ear.

The sound of an incoming text knocks you out of your fantasy and you open your eyes to see your flushed reflection staring back in the mirror. You reach for your phone.

you gonna make it out tonight? [ 5:48 PM ]

You stare at Dominguez’s message for a moment.

Decision time.

Are you?

************************

You’ve been over every step you took before leaving the hotel at least a dozen times by now.

You’d sent Domniguez a text, claiming to be under the weather.

You’d left your phone in the safe in your room.

You’d walked out of the hotel through a service exit and into a waiting car.

All clear, decisive, sane choices despite the fact that you are obviously a crazy person. Because no one in their right mind would be pulling this kind of stunt.

The ride is short, only a few minutes from your federally-funded accommodations to the much more humble beachside hotel where Jungkook told you to meet him. You give the driver more than enough money to cover the fare and tip and step out into the thick night air.  You spot him a short distance away, sitting at a tiki bar just off the water.

Puerto Rico has apparently been very good to Jungkook Jeon.  

He is reclined casually in a barstool, drinking a bottled beer.  The creamy off-white of his linen shirt is a perfect contrast to the deep golden tan he’s managed to acquire these past few months. He’s let his wavy black hair grow long again and it falls just below his ears. The laugh he shares with the bartender reveals his smile and makes him look relaxed and radiant and fucking perfect.

Jungkook turns in his stool just as you approach and the slow, appreciative once-over he gives you makes your entire body feel warm. The corner of his mouth curves up in a half-smile.

Dammit.

You’ve got to get your head on straight.

Jungkook isn’t some hot, available guy you’re trying to land. He’s a wanted man and the fact that he’s sitting out in the open at this tiny outdoor beach bar makes you nervous. It’s a saving grace that the bar is damned near dead but there are still too many angles, too many clear lines of sight. You’re annoyed that he’s being so flippant about keeping a low profile.  

You wait until you are close enough to whisper before you speak.

“This is a terrible idea.”

He cocks a brow. “Drinks?”

“You know what I’m talking about,” you hiss. “We need to go somewhere more private.”

“Christ woman,” he groans. “Don’t you know it’s polite to wine and dine me first? I’m not a piece of meat, you know.”

He grins when you huff your frustration.

“Besides, if you were really worried about drawing attention --” he pauses, rakes an appreciative gaze across your décolletage, “-- you certainly wouldn’t have worn that dress.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake, does he ever turn it off? Is he incapable of recognizing how risky and fucked up this situation really is?

“You’re an idiot,” you bite out, turning to leave -- but Jungkook grabs for your wrist.

“Relax,” he soothes, pulling you back.  “Seriously.  I have the situation under control.”

A charged moment passes as you give him a long look. His hand remains firm and warm around your wrist.

“Do you trust me?”

What a ridiculous question.  

What you know about Jungkook Jeon could fit on an index card, and what little information you do have doesn’t exactly do him any favors. You’re putting your career -- potentially even your freedom at risk even being here.

But something about the naked sincerity on his face makes you want to trust him.

God only knows why.

You take a deep breath in and out before sliding into the barstool he’s pulled out for you.  The bartender smiles from a few feet away, makes his way over.  You tense, turning to face away and Jungkook puts a steadying hand on your knee.

“It’s cool,” he murmurs. “He knows me.”

“Why on earth do you think that’s supposed to make me feel better?” you fire back.

“I think -- you just need to have a drink,” he reasons, eyes sparkling. He lifts his beer to his lips and you catch yourself staring for a moment at the way the tendons in his arms flex, the way his lips slide over the mouth of the bottle.

Has the simple act of drinking a beer always looked that masculine?

Shit, you do need a drink.

You order a mojito without ever looking the bartender in the eye. Whoever he is -- Jungkook’s buddy it would seem -- he’s understanding about your appalling lack of manners. He can probably recognize a truly fucked-up situation from a mile away and is steering clear like someone with an inkling of common sense.

For his part, Jungkook has dropped the flirtatious act for a moment and the small smile that plays across his face is calm and reassuring.

It works.

“Alright Jeon,” you sigh after a moment. “Let’s talk. How did you do it?”

He takes a long drink of his beer.

“You know I can’t tell you that.”

You’d expected as much. You would bet everything in the bank that his parents helped him get out of Los Angeles.  The kind but guarded look on his face is the closest you’ll get to a confirmation of that fact.

“Ask me anything else.”

“Fine.  How did you pull off the stunt at the airport?”

“Oh, that was easy,” Jungkook teases. “I found the driver holding your name card and offered him twice the fare. He was happy to help me out. Nice guy, actually.”

“He’s lucky you didn’t cut me into pieces,” you grumble.

Jungkook laughs. “You’ve got a wild imagination. Besides, who wouldn’t trust a face like this?”

To make his point, he turns from side to side to offer you a better look at his profiles. Outwardly you roll your eyes, but inwardly it’s hard to ignore the sharp line of his jaw, the perfectly symmetrical angles of his face.  You take another long drink from the cocktail in your hand.

“Why Puerto Rico?”

“Why not? The scenery is beautiful, the food is delicious, and people know how to mind their own goddamned business,” He takes another sip of beer. “Besides, you guys didn’t exactly leave me with a lot of options when you took my passport. And hey -- thanks for that, by the way.  Finding a good fake is a real bitch.”

“We’re not travel agents, Jeon,” you snort.

He laughs.

“So this -- “ you motion to the small building attached to the tiki bar, “ -- is where you’ve been staying?”

“Dammit, woman — I said ask me anything, not everything. You’re not wearing a wire, are you?”  

He grins at the glare you fix him with.  

“I’m kidding, obviously. No way you’d be able to hide a wire under that delightful little number.”

He chuckles when you flush.

“So yeah, this is one place I’ve been staying. Mostly locals around here.  After the storm, so many new people turned up to help rebuild that it’s been pretty easy to blend in with the new faces.  Plus, it’s not hard to find work.”

“So you’ve got this all figured out, huh?”

“Some of it,” he demures, and you can’t help but notice he’s managed to slide a little closer.  His proximity is distracting. You’ve only had one drink and you already feel a bit lightheaded.

Jungkook scrubs a hand down his mouth, fixes you with a long look.

“Now it’s my turn to ask a question.”

“Fair enough,” you concede.

“You gonna go to dinner with him?”

You exhale a nervous laugh against the rim of your glass. You’d wondered if the series of back-and-forth emails between you and Agent Kim Namjoon would come up. You should have known it would.

Agent Kim’s last email came this week. It said he would be traveling to Los Angeles for some training soon.

It said that he wanted to take you to dinner.  

You should have fired back an enthusiastic yes! right away because Agent Kim is hot and smart and to your knowledge has zero outstanding warrants.

But you didn’t.

Jungkook tilts the mouth of his beer against his lips.  

“Well?”

“Yes,” you say, finally.

“Don’t.”

The reply is so abrupt, so emphatic that you have to laugh.

“Why?”

“He’s an empty suit. A cardboard cut-out. Not right for you at all.”

The smirk on Jungkook’s mouth indicates he’s teasing, but his tone indicates something else entirely. The territorial current that runs under his words is annoying and exciting and complicated.

“He’s just trying to fuck you, you know.”

You raise an eyebrow at that.

“Oh, and you’re not?”

“No,” he murmurs, leaning close. “I have fucked you. I plan on fucking you again. He and I are not the same, at all.”

His words set off a throb between your thighs and you shift uncomfortably in your seat, uncross and recross your legs.  Jungkook leans back, looking satisfied with how much he’s managed to unnerve you.

“So this is some kind of pissing contest?”

You laugh to keep the sounds of your words light, but your words come out uneven. “You stalk my inbox for months and abduct me from the airport to what -- keep me from fucking Agent Kim? You hate him that much?”

“I don’t give a shit about Agent Kim,” he snaps. He takes a deep breath before speaking again.

“You know what this is about. Don’t play with me.”

He’s right, of course.  You do know what this is about.  

It’s why you fucked him in an airplane bathroom against all rules of decorum and common sense.  It’s why you’re here, making stupid decisions and taking dumb risks instead of back at your hotel playing it safe. It’s why you’ve never been able to stop thinking about him.

Something connects you to this man, something you don’t really understand -- and now you know for a fact that whatever it is, it isn’t one-sided.

Your body is rigid, unnaturally still as the bartender drops off new drinks and you immediately reach for the glass, if for no other reason than to stall.  Jungkook takes a long sip from his new beer before speaking again.  You can feel his eyes on you but you don’t look back.

“I like you.”  

No sarcastic quip follows. No charged sexual innuendo.  Something about that simple admission is more intimate than the fact that he’s literally been inside you.

“You don’t know anything about me,” is the only thing you can think to say.  

Jungkook shoots you a playful smile.

“I know you like mojitos.  I know you have a standing appointment with some fancy hair salon in LA every six weeks.  I know you order Chipotle far more than is necessary or probably healthy.”

He leans closer and the look on his face changes into something different -- something that makes you shiver.  He slides his hand under your jaw, tips your head up, strokes a thumb across your cheek.  

“I know what you sound like when you come,” he whispers. “I know I’d like to hear that again.”

Oh, God.

This must be what it’s like to drown. To see your demise play out before your eyes but still feel powerless to stop it.  Every smart-assed retort you could fire back dies on your tongue and all you can do is blink when Jungkook brushes his lips against yours.

“And I know you like me too,” he whispers against your mouth.

He’s right.

You do.

You really, really do.

*****************************

It’s like a switch flips inside your brain.  Once you start kissing him, you can’t stop.  

You both fall through the open door to his room in a tangle of limbs and lips.

Jungkook lifts you up off the floor and you immediately wrap your legs around his waist, never stopping the assault on his mouth and skin.  He moans when you lick a stripe up his neck. He tastes like salt and sunscreen and sex and you are so desperate to feel him inside you that you can’t think straight.

“Wait, wait, wait,” he protests, walking you both over to the mattress.  He drops you unceremoniously on top of the bedding.

“Stop.”

“God, no,” you groan, panting.  “Why?”

He takes a deep breath in and out, shoves a hand through his hair.  

“I promised myself I was going to take my time with you if I ever got this chance again,” he explains, voice ragged with arousal. “No cuffs. No rush. Not this time.”

You huff in exasperation and climb up onto your knees on the mattress.  

Jungkook’s eyes widen when you drop both hands to the hem of your dress and pull it up and off in one swift motion.  You’d had to forgo a bra given the skimpy nature of your sundress and it’s easy to forget he hasn’t really seen you naked. The look on his face says he heartily approves.

“Take your time later,” you fire back.  “Take your clothes off now.”

Jungkook laughs.  “Are you always this bossy?”

“Yes.  If you wait one minute longer I’m going to sober up and realize this is a terrible decision. Take your clothes off.”

“Hush woman.”  

He silences you with mock annoyance as his fingers drop to work the buttons of his shirt. You catch your mouth before it drops open as he pulls the shirt off, exposing the chiseled planes of his body.  You swallow thickly when he drops the garment to the floor.  

No human being should be allowed to look like this.

It’s obscene.

The tattoos that run across his hands and forearms extend up to his shoulders, across his chest. The defined lines that outline his abdomen are made even more plain by his deep breaths.  He is -- hands down -- the sexiest man you have ever seen in your life.  

“Shit Jungkook, you’ve been holding out on me,” you breathe, a note of awe in your voice.

“And I knew you had amazing tits,” he grins, shoving his jeans off his hips. “Lie back.”

The gruff command makes your body tight with anticipation.  Jungkook’s face is damp with sweat, locks clinging to his brow when he sinks down onto the mattress and crawls until he’s hovering over you.

“Goddamnit,” he whispers, slanting his lips over yours.  “Goddamnit, I’ve been thinking about this for so damned long.”

You sigh into his mouth.

Me too, you want to say. But you don’t.

“I’ve thought about the way you taste every single day, did you know that?”

He circles one aching nipple with his tongue and teeth.  You whimper at the heavy drag of his tongue.  

“I’ve imagined getting my mouth on you again far more than is normal or sane,” he whispers against your skin, pulling the damp lace of your panties off your ankles and tossing it away.

“Jungkook,” you whine. “Please.”

His lips skate over the sensitive skin between your breasts, across your stomach as he slides downward.  Your body stills when you feel his lips at your entrance, breath warm against your wetness.  

The first touch of his tongue is quick, teasing.  You’re wound so tight your hips jerk off the bed at that light contact.

“Easy girl,” Jungkook teases, sealing his mouth over your clit.  The strong fingers of one hand press into your hip, grip you tight to keep you from pulling away.  He slips one long finger from his other hand inside you to join his tongue in the all-out assault.

“God you are sexy,” he groans, licking deeply into you.  You grab handfuls of his damp hair in between shaking fingers.   “You’ve ruined me for all other federal agents, you know.”

Your laugh bleeds into a gasp when Jungkook slips a second finger inside of you, presses harder against you with his tongue.

“Oh, shit,” you whine, legs trembling. You roll your hips mindlessly, enjoying the way he moans in response.

“You gonna let me hear it again?” his words vibrate almost painfully against your already aching clit. “Be as loud as you want this time, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you sigh in agreement, feeling that telltale prickle building between your thighs.

He sets you off with the firm press of the heel of his hand on your mound.  You can’t control your body’s reaction when the pressure against that sensitive wall and the stimulation of your clit combine.  Your back arches high off the bed when you start to come apart, moaning wantonly.

Your orgasm seems to go on and on forever and Jungkook whispers words of encouragement as you ride it out.  He doesn’t stop with his tongue and fingers until you start to quiver from the overstimulation, breaths hitching when shudders run up and down your back.

“Dammit, Jungkook,” you gasp once you regain control of your ragged breathing.

He laughs as he kisses his way back up your body, across your chest and neck.  You welcome the press of his body when he settles over you.  He grinds his hips down and you whimper at the feel of his rigid cock straining against his boxers.   You clench hard at the memory of him deep inside you.

“Take those off,” you order, scraping your teeth against the damp skin of his neck.

“Ask me nice and I might consider it,” he teases.

You shoot him a playfully disapproving look before pushing against his shoulder until he rolls over.  His eyes fall shut when you climb over him and drag your drenched center against the firm outline of his cock.

“Fuck, that feels good,” he whispers, and you lean forward to seal your lips over his.  He pants into your mouth as you rock against him.

You slide down his body after a moment, hooking your fingers into his boxers and pulling them down with you.

The thing about your hurried little encounter inside that airplane bathroom is that it’s hard to remember the details.  It was so rushed and illicit and bizarre that you can barely recount what he felt like, what he looked like in the moment.  But right now -- when his cock springs free and he looks down at you from beneath heavy lids and he looks so sincerely fucked out -- you make sure to commit this moment to memory.  

Jungkook sucks a strangled breath between his teeth when you take him in your mouth.  His fingers immediately wind into your hair and you sigh around his length when he groans his satisfaction.  His hips jerk when you pull off of him, dragging your tongue against the sensitive spot under the head of his cock before releasing it.

“Shit,” he moans, “I forgot how good you are at that.”

You laugh and wrap one hand firmly around the base of his cock. He’s already leaking at the tip and he hisses when you sweep your tongue across the swollen head. He gathers your hair in his hands, pulls gently on the strands but you can feel the restraint he’s exercising. His body is radiating tension, taut with unspent energy.  

“You can get rougher if you want,” you breathe, pumping him steadily with your hands.  

His agonized groan tells you he’d love to take you up on that offer.

“You can’t talk to me like that,” he pants, words sounding pained. “I’m doing everything I can not to literally blow my second chance here.”

You release his cock with a smile and he pulls away to shift his body up the bed. He reaches into his bedside table and pulls out a condom.  He holds it up for a moment and the two of you share a knowing laugh.

The laughter dies the moment you crawl up the bed to join him and take the condom out of his hand.  Jungkook’s eyes are dark and focused as you rip it open and roll it down his straining cock.  Once it’s in place he steals the air from your lungs with a deep kiss and pulls you onto his lap.  

You’re struck still for a moment when you look down at him just as you are lining him up with your entrance. He looks back at you with those blown-out pupils and kiss-bitten lips and you lose your momentum.  You should say something or do something but it’s so damned hard to focus when he’s looking at you like that.

He brushes a damp lock of hair away from your face with his fingers and fixes you with an expectant look.

You want to tell him how handsome he is.

You want to tell him that he’s the most interesting person you’ve ever met.

But you don’t.  

Jungkook rescues you from your sudden crisis with a well-timed tease.

“You’ve been rushing me since we got here,” he chuckles, brow raised. “You’re gonna leave me like this?”

He grabs the base of his stiff cock with one hand, rubs the head against your clit to make his point. You answer him with a desperate kiss, swallowing the groan he makes when you finally sink down.

His hands move to either side of your ass to guide the movement of your hips.  Your first few thrusts are hesitant, shaky as you adjust to the feeling of him deep inside you.  He feels harder and thicker than you remember.

“Oh, god --” you moan.

You feel his faint hum of satisfaction against your breasts.  He tongues messily at your aching nipples, sucks them into his mouth.  His fingers dig into your ass as he thrusts up to meet your thrusts down.  

His mouth is full of you. His hands are full of you.  You are full of him.  The feeling of filling and being filled is unbearable at this point.  It’s so much stimulation at once that it borders on painful.

“Feel so good wrapped around me like this,” Jungkook groans. “I can’t get enough.”

Me neither, you want to say. I’ve been dying to feel you like this, you nearly whisper.

But you don’t.

You feel disoriented for a moment and grab onto the headboard for desperately needed balance.  It gives you the leverage you need to take him deeper, faster, and the steady rhythm of his thrusts and breaths starts to pick up in speed.

Then you make the mistake of opening your eyes and looking down into his face.

He is covered in a sheen of sweat, eyes hooded and mouth slack with pleasure. He fixes you with a look so erotic you nearly blush.  It’s pretty ridiculous to be literally riding a man’s cock and feel suddenly shy, but that’s exactly what happens.  

You force yourself to close your eyes.

Jungkook buries his face in your neck. You feel one of his hands move away from your hips, down to where the two of you meet. The rough pad of one thumb starts to work your clit and the stimulation distracts you for a moment, makes your rhythm sloppy.  

“I want to feel you come,” he breathes, teeth grazing the sensitive skin of your collarbone and neck. “I want to know what it feels like when I’m inside you.”

“So close,” you whine on a shaky breath.

“I’m gonna go off like a bomb,” he groans, stroking so deep you see stars.  “Take me with you.”

If it weren’t for the one hand keeping you anchored to the headboard, you’d have collapsed onto him with the sheer force of your orgasm.  You whimper as Jungkook’s orgasm rips through him, body shuddering as he pounds harder and faster.  It takes a few frantic, frenzied moments for his rhythm to slow and his moans to subside.

Then you do slump onto him, spent and sweaty and rubbery with utter exhaustion. You’re both still for a moment, damp bodies pressed together as you both catch your breath.

He brushes your hair away from your face and presses a soft kiss to your temple.

***********************************

You take a shower together.  

Afterwards, you both fall back into bed clean and warm.  

You make good on your promise to let Jungkook take his time this go-around.  He fucks you slow and relaxed from behind while you lay side by side.  The steady lap of the waves outside his window is a perfect backdrop as he whispers into your ear and buries himself deep inside you.

Afterwards, everything is still but the waves.  

You both enjoy the complete silence for a while.  Your stroke your fingers across the strong forearm Jungkook has wrapped around you and he breathes deeply into your hair.  It feels natural, somehow.

It feels good.  

You can’t remember the last time anything felt this good.

“Stay with me,” Jungkook whispers after a while, nosing into the nape of your neck.  He drops a soft kiss on the sensitive skin just below your ear.  

“I can’t,” you whisper back.  “I have a meeting first thing in the morning. Don’t tell me you skipped that email.”

He’s quiet for a moment.

“I wasn’t talking about tonight.”

You go rigid from head to toe.  Maybe you didn’t hear that right.

“What?”

“Stay with me,” he says again, like it’s going to make more sense the second time he says it. “We could go all over the world and eat the best food and fuck in the most beautiful places.”  His fingers stroke up your side, sending chills up your back. “It could be great.”

You wait for him to laugh.  He doesn’t.

You pull out of his hold, flip your body so that you’re facing him.  You expect to see his teasing smirk staring back, but you don’t. He looks serious.

“What the fuck was in that beer, Jeon?”

He rolls onto his back and stares up at the ceiling.

“You don’t have to give me an answer now,” he says quietly. “You could think about it for a while.”

You stare at the side of his perfect profile, dazed for a moment by the strange combination of feelings swirling inside you right now.  

There’s disbelief at the insane Bonnie and Clyde fantasy he’s decided to pitch.

There’s disappointment because there’s a tiny part of you that wants to entertain that fantasy.

And there’s a little bit of heartache because right now he looks so lonely.  

That’s the part that gnaws at you.  It makes you feel raw and exposed.  So you do what you know best and try to redirect with humor.

“Who’s got a wild imagination now, huh?”

His lips twitch into a wry smile.  

************************

You’d waited until you were certain he was asleep before slipping out of his arms and out of the bed.  He slept heavy, not stirring once while you slipped into your clothes and shoes.  He slept like someone without a care in the world.

Hardly.

It had taken a moment to find a piece of paper.  It was only just as you were about to give up that you remembered Jungkook’s note, tucked safely into your bag.

You looked back at him in the bed -- studied him for a moment before quietly scrawling a note on the other side of that piece of paper.

you know i can’t. i’m sorry.

[nevermindirah]

Ok it's Jewish Booker o'clock, I can no longer stop myself, let's do this!

Why Jewish Booker? Dude was born in Marseilles in 1770, which happens to be a FASCINATING time and place in Jewish history, and it adds ridiculous layers to his character (without excusing a damn thing). Alternately just because I think he’s neat :)

Jewish Booker headcanons that make me happy:

not to be all "real Jews do X" but Jews fuck with candles hard. Book of Nile thrives on old/modern analog/digital giggles. Booker lighting Shabbat candles, lighting yarzeit (memorial) candles for his wife and sons (sob), lighting a menorah, lighting candles just because he's feeling emotional even though it's not chag (a holiday) or a yarzeit and Nile thinks he's trying to be sexy but he's really just in his feelings. just like. so many candles.

maybe Booker was the person who punched Richard Spencer at Trump's inauguration, just bringing back that time somebody punched a famous neonazi in the street and said neonazi has all but stopped appearing in public after a few rounds of public punching

were the Old Guard in Charlottesville in 2017? how many times has Booker the Blond Jew infiltrated North American white nationalist / Klan type activities and then stolen their weapons and/or killed them? likewise there's plenty of horrifying white nationalist shit happening across Europe this century, how many Pim Fortuyn types has he been involved in taking down? (I Am Of Course Not Endorsing Violence TM ;) ;) )

SINGING. Mattias Schoenaerts sings in Away From the Madding Crowd but it's church shit, sigh, anyway he has a nice voice. a lot of Jewish prayer is sung/chanted (depending on when/where you are and the gender rules of the community you're in) and there’s been a lot of innovation to Jewish singing in Booker’s lifetime, and I just want Nile to overhear him singing to himself on Friday afternoons

Nile Freeman was four years old when The Prince of Egypt came out, she grew up on that shit, she would want to introduce her new family to that shit. Please join me in picturing Booker, Nicky, Joe, and Andy all shouting "that's not how it happened!!" throughout this beautiful nightmare of a movie with lovely animation and songs but where white people voice most of the Egyptian and Jewish characters, because Booker Nicky and Joe's religious texts all frame the Exodus story a little differently and Andy was probably there when it happened (except for how it didn't actually happen it's an important story but it's just a story pls just let me giggle about Andy being super old)

Read below the cut for sad Jewish Booker headcanons, French Jewish history (mostly sad), context on antisemitism (enraging/sad), and all the way to the very end for a himbo joke.

Jewish Booker headcanons, I made myself sad edition:

he is a forger. who was alive. in 1939. visas. VISAS. V I S A S. how many of us did he save? how many more could he have saved if he didn't sleep that night? how heavily does that weigh?

how do we think he BECAME a forger? most likely he was doing what he needed to do to support his family, which gets extra poignant if he was also trying to help his people, forging documents as well as money even during his mortal life

Booker raised Catholic by crypto-Jews adds ANOTHER layer to the forgery thing, no shit he'd get good at falsifying paperwork and coming up with plausible cover stories

do we know how Booker made it back home after his first death in 1812? his route between the Russian Empire and Provence in 1812 would've been a patchwork of laws about Jews, in case starvation and frostbite weren't enough for him to have to deal with, he's blond and could maybe get away with pretending not to be Jewish if he had to, alternately maybe synagogues and yeshivot took him in on his way home

the structural and sometimes-interpersonal dynamics of antisemitism cause many individual Jews to experience feelings of teetering on the fence between a valued member of a not-exclusively-Jewish community and a scapegoat/outcast/problem. HOLY SHIT BOOKER. "what do you know of all these years alone" is the most Jewish loneliness-in-a-crowd shit I've ever heard. fear that we're not wanted, or only wanted so long as we're useful — that's something that basically all people struggle with under capitalism, but it's especially poignant for many Jews because of the particular way antisemitism operates. (NOTE this can tip from a legit Jewish Booker reading to woobification of the sad white man who couldn't possibly be held responsible for his own actions because he's so sad, which, NOPE. it's very understandable for him to feel left out and misunderstood and not as wanted, as the youngest and not part of an immortal couple and maybe Jewish, but NONE OF THIS excuses his betrayal.)

Crusaders murdered a lot of Jews on their way to the ~holy land~. how many of Booker's people did Nicky kill on his way to kill Joe's people? has Booker ever actually talked to either of them about it?

I read this really beautiful fic about Joe needing to circumcise himself after getting run over by a cart (ouch) — this is a hell of a thing for Joe and Booker to have in common

just generally Jewish Booker adds more layers to him and Joe so clearly being such close friends, ugh that look Joe gives him when they're leaving the bar at the end of the movie, and I very much do not mean this in a gross Arab-Israeli-conflict way because Joe is Amazigh not Arab and Booker is Jewish not Israeli (and also a lot of Jews are Arabs) (but most importantly there's no ~eternal conflict~ between Muslims and Jews) (more about OP Is Not A Zionist below)

like, the UK and France (and to a certain extent Italy) carved up the former Ottoman Empire after WWI; among other things, the UK took Palestine, and they could've worked on eradicating European antisemitism so Jews wouldn't have to leave but instead they used their control of Palestine to encourage Zionist emigration of Jews out of Europe, and France took what is now Iraq, which has some pretty direct implications for US military involvement in that country in Nile's lifetime; France colonized Tunisia in the late 19th century and still held it during the Vichy era which means Tunisian Jews were subject to Nazi anti-Jewish laws which is just layers upon layers of colonial racist Islamophobic and antisemitic nightmares for Joe and Booker to live through

to be crystal clear before anybody gets ooh Muslim-Jewish conflict up in here, antisemitism is an invention of European Christians that they imported to the places they colonized, the European colonial powers encouraged Zionism because it was easier for them to encourage Jews to leave Europe and set us up as middle agents between the colonial powers and the ~scary brown people~, the Ottoman Empire and other Muslim governments historically have had a second-class citizenship category for non-Muslims that rankles my American first amendment freedom of religion sensibility but was very much not targeting Jews specifically, and these two men who've lived for a long-ass time through many varieties of geopolitical awfulness (and alongside a certain unwashed Crusader who has since learned his lesson) would have Things To Say about how our current mainstream discourses frame these things

getting off my soapbox and back to this action movie I'm trying to talk about, the ANGST of Booker's exile, which is simultaneously a very valid decision for Andy Joe and Nicky to make, an extremely long time for Nile who is only 26 years old to be separated from the one person on the planet in a position to really understand the crisis she's going through, and holy shit expelling a Jew from your group when he's already been expelled from mortality and his family and being expelled from places and continually having to start over somewhere new is THE curse of surviving through antisemitism, OUCH MY FEELINGS

Some French Jewish history:

France, like basically all of Europe, periodically expelled its Jews, but Provence (where Marseilles is) wasn't legally part of France during the expulsions up through 1398 so Provence had a continuous active Jewish community; about 3,000 Iberian Jewish refugees ended up in Provence after the expulsions from Spain and Portugal in the 1490s

the 1498 expulsion of French Jews DID apply to Provence but many "converted" to Christianity and reestablished a Jewish community when enforcement of the expulsion chilled out (which was in the government's interest because they were really into taxing Jews at higher rates, so much so that they taxed "new Christians" at higher rates once they realized expelling Jews meant they wouldn't be around to overtax, ffs) — by the mid-18th century Provence had notable communities of Jews and crypto-Jews (forced converts and their descendants who still kept some Jewish practices in secret)

Booker would've been 21 when revolutionary France granted equal legal rights to Jews in 1791 — his mortal life and first century of immortality happens to line up almost perfectly with the timeline of legal emancipation of Jews across Europe

the American and French Revolutions happened pretty much concurrently and took different approaches to religious freedom that make Book of Nile with Jewish Booker and canon Christian Nile extra interesting — French emancipation, at least from my American sensibility, is about secularism and religion not "interfering" (hence French Islamophobic shittiness about banning hijabs), whereas American religious freedom is more of "the government can't stop me from trying to evangelize / religiously harass people at my school/workplace/etc" — to be clear I think both countries' approaches to religious "freedom" are hegemonic as shit and have devastating flaws, but they're different models that emerged at the same time in Booker's youth and Christianity is clearly a source of emotional support for Nile and there's so much to explore here

Napoleon tried to ~liberate~ the Jews of places he conquered for his dumbass French Empire, but liberation from ghettos came with strings attached (like banning us from some of the only jobs we'd been legally allowed to have for centuries, and liberating us for the stated purpose of getting us to assimilate and stop being Jews) and many places that were briefly part of the French Empire reinstated their antisemitic laws after Napoleon was gone, can you imagine being a French Jew forced to fight and die in Russian winter for that jackass and then have to trudge back through a dozen countries whose antisemitism was all riled up by French interference?

Some facts about antisemitism:

antisemitism operates differently than many other oppressions, it doesn't economically oppress the target group in the same way as antiblackness or misogyny or ableism etc — the purpose of antisemitism is to create a scapegoat to blame when European peasants are mad at the king / the church / the people actually in charge, and structural antisemitism encourages a system where some Jews become visibly successful so that those individuals and our whole community are easier to make into scapegoats

one of the historical roots of antisemitism is stuff in the Christian Bible about moneylending as sinful — Jews in medieval Europe were often barred from owning land and Christians barred from moneylending, so some Jews found work in finance and some of us became very visibly successful for working with money — a few individual Jews running a particular bank or finding success as jewelry dealers turns into "Jews control global financial systems" scapegoating — a more recent example of this is the participation of nonblack Jews in white flight and the role of Jewish landlords doing the visible dirty work of non-Jewish institutions in American antiblack housing discrimination, Nile grew up on the South Side of Chicago and would have seen some shit along these lines and might repeat hurtful ideas out of a lack of knowledge, here's Ta Nahesi Coates on some of these dynamics

Booker canonically being a forger (specifically of coins in the comics?) needs a little extra care to avoid antisemitic tropes about Jews and money, I will happily answer good-faith asks about this if you want to check on something for a fic/etc

antisemitism in the United States where I live in October 2020 isn't institutional in the sense of targeting Jews for police violence or anything like that. it IS systemic, however, for example in all the antisemitic conspiracy theories the Trump administration and several other Republicans peddle (ie QAnon), and in how the Trump administration points to support for Israel as if that means support for Jews (it doesn't, it's evangelical Christians who push the US government to support the Israeli government because they think Jews need to be in the ~holy land~ for Jesus to come back that's literally why the United States funds Israel at the level it does). antisemitism also gets weaponized to encourage white Jews (those of us of European descent, who in the United States are definitely white because the foundation of US racism is slavery and antiblackness as well as anti-indigenous genocide, maybe European Jews aren't included in whiteness everywhere but we definitely are where I live) to side with white supremacy instead of building solidarity with other marginalized people (ie a lot of mainstream Jewish groups shit on the Movement for Black Lives because of its solidarity with Palestinians)

the Nation of Islam has a major presence in Chicago and its leader Louis Farrakhan who lives in Chicago has long spread a variety of antisemitic as well as homophobic bullshit but there are genuine good reasons many Black people find meaning/support in the Nation of Islam and Nile would've grown up with that mess in the air around her, this is a good take from a Black Jew about the nuance of all that

the way the Old Guard comics draw Yusuf al Kaysani is HOLY SHIT ANTISEMITISM BATMAN I hate it please summarize the comics for me because I DO NOT WANT to look at that unnecessarily caricatured nose why the fuck did they do that human noses are beautiful there is absolutely no need to draw Joe like a Nazi would

Jews for Racial and Economic Justice is a local NYC group that recently developed a fantastic resource for understanding and fighting antisemitism (pdf) 11/10 strongly recommend

Zionism disclaimer: A lot of Jews feel strongly that we need a Jewish-majority country in order to be safe from antisemitism. I strongly disagree with this idea on its merits (Jews disagree about who is a Jew and making Jewish status a government/immigration matter means some of us are going to get left out; also non-Jews aren't fundamentally dangerous and separatism isn't going to end antisemitism) but I have a lot of empathy for the very valid fear that leads a lot of my people to Zionism. Whether I want a Jewish-majority country or not, what Israel has done and continues to do to Palestinians is a deal breaker. Emotions run very high on this subject — I spend a lot of my not-Tumblr life talking to other Jews about Zionism and I'd rather not have this Jewish Booker headcanons post become yet another place where fellow Jews yell at me in bad faith. Block me if you need to, you're not going to change my mind. Call me self-hating if you want, I know I love us.

Racism in fandom disclaimer: I feel weird about increasing the volume of meta about Booker in this fandom. Nile Freeman is the main character and deserves lots of attention and adoration from the fandom — and she deserves emotional support from as many friends and orgasms from as many partners as she wants. I think Jewish Booker makes her friendship and potential romantic relationship with him even more interesting, hence this post. Ship what you ship, but be aware of the racist impact of focusing your fandom activity on, for example, shipping two white men while ignoring awesome characters of color especially the canon man of color one of those white dudes has already been with for a millennium. Please and thanks don't use my post for shenanigans like sidelining Joe so you can ship Booker with Nicky.

Oh and a non-disclaimer fun fact, Matthias Schoenaerts was born in Antwerp which apparently has one of the largest Jewish communities still remaining in Europe?? ~Jewish Booker headcanons intensify~

In conclusion: Jewish Booker! Just because it's fun! It exponentially increases the angst of his mortal lifetime and it puts his first century of immortality smack in the middle of the most intense changes to Jewish life since the fall of the Second Temple (aforementioned emancipation, also founding of Reform Judaism, the Haskalah, Zionism, and then of course the Holocaust). It makes his relationships with Nile, Joe, and Nicky more interesting and potentially angstier and with more intense commonalities and tenderness about their differences. It's very common for Jews to not believe in God (this confuses the shit out of a lot of Christians) and this would probably have further endeared him to Andy.

One more thing: Booker as golem. (A golem is basically an earthenware robot of Jewish folklore.) He's tall and blond and the most Steve Rogers-looking of all of them and from the Himbeaux region of France. THE trope of Book of Nile is he will do WHATEVER Nile wants or needs him to do. I was today years old when I learned that Modern Hebrew speakers use golem figuratively to mean "mindless lunk" and I'm choosing to squint and read that as "hot kind and dumb as rocks" because it amuses me.

[tinyboxxtink]

Hey so loved your black magic series! I read your post about using REE/Rafael. I’ll read anything you write but this idea to me is RPF and kind of squicks. ☹️ Maybe if you use another character he played? Nevada?! Someone sees “Barba” doing something super bad and they’re all “omg omg” and think it’s Barba? 🤷🏻‍♀️

I hear you, I do. HOWEVER, I made a "Version" of Raul Esparza in this story that is 5 years younger, and...I hate to say it, "more" famous?

IDK I wrote a 'prototype' chapter last night, so I'm gonna put this to you. I assume/hope you're an avid reader and I can gauge the public consensus, but also I want ALL my readers to be happy!!

So here, read this and then tell me if you still find the idea "Squicky".

That goes for anyone else! Maybe I should put my tag list in here....

The way I wrote him though anon, I truly feel in my heart that it's not RPF, because like I said RPF freaks me out as well.

Before you already go in skeptical, let me set up the plot I had planned. {As told to @madamsnape921 in an IM:

the thing was gonna start that someone sees Rafael proposing to the reader, and tells a tabloid that Raul Esparza is engaged to some rando. Because they think that it was him. And then Rafa, the reader and Chloe start to discuss on how either it's a multiverse thing, or a doppelganger thing because it turns out that Rafael and Raúl are very similar, like personality traits and the Broadway dream, except that Raul's childhood was basically the opposite of Rafael's so Chloe THINKS that Raul is Rafael from a "multiverse".

Right and then Raul goes to Rafael's office to confront him and then the reader and Chloe are there to take Rafael out to lunch and they're like holy shit!

And Rafael is super uncomfortable with the idea of the reader EVER being in a show with Raul because obviously they're like the same person and Raul probably has more in common with her

Oh and also Raul is five years younger, and thinner. So then Raul's like you shouldn't listen to him, I could really help you with your career.

Annnnd that's all I have so far.

Okay so read this really and tell me you honest opinion.

Screw it putting the tag list:

Tag List

@madamsnape921

@lolliepopsicle

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@milkshqke

@wanniiieeee

@word-scribbless

@gibbs274

@sassyada

@aprildecker-blog

@bookishfanfic

@stars-in-the-skies-world

@stars-trash-18

@omgsuperstarg

You were walking towards the exit of Central Park hand in hand with your now fiancee, when all of a sudden two giggling girls came running up to you.

“Oh my god!!!!! Raul we didn’t know you had a girlfriend!” One of them started squealing.

“Fiancee,” He corrected. “Wait I’m sorry, what? Did you just call me Raul?”

“Uh...yeah, duh,” One of the girls made a face. “Raul Esparza?”

“What?” You bursted out laughing. “I’m sorry, you think he’s Raul Esparza?”

“Um, we know he is,” The other one crossed her arms.

“Um, no he isn’t!” You wrapped your arm around Rafael protectively, as if the two girls were going to kidnap him or something.

“I can promise you ladies, I am not-- whoever you just said,” Rafael assured them.

“Why are you doing this? Are you trying not to embarrass your lady friend here?” One of the girls made a weird face at you.

“Wha? No--” Rafael tried to defend himself but the girls were already clearly ticked off.

“Wow, I have heard of actors trying to get away from fans but completely pretending to be another person, that’s pretty low Raul,” One of them glared at Rafael.

“Yeah, it wouldn’t have taken you much effort to just take a selfie with us,” The other one added with a scowl.

“I...um--” He looked to you for help, but you just shrugged. You had no idea how to handle such a weird situation.

“I guess we can take one--” He offered.

“Oh no, forget it now,” One girl scoffed.

“Yeah, jerk!” The other one stomped her foot and they both sauntered away angrily.

-----------

“...What the hell was that?” Rafael looked at you in utter confusion and disbelief, you just gave him a “wtf” smile.

“I have no idea baby--”

“Oh my god, are you guys ok?” Chloe suddenly came running up behind you. “What the hell did those teeny boppers want? To rob you with water guns or something?”

“No they-- they wanted a selfie?” Rafael was still confused, trying to figure out what just happened.

“A selfie? With you?” Chloe snorted.

“No-- With Raul Esparza,” You looked at her with a confused smile. It was pretty entertaining to think that your fiance looked like a Broadway star.

“I don’t get it, you said that I didn’t even look like him!” Rafael looked at you.

“I mean I said I didn’t see it, and that you were more handsome,”

“....Yeah well you might wanna rethink that answer babe,” Chloe’s eyes were wide as she handed you her phone. She had googled RAUL ESPARZA, and the images that popped up were-- Rafael’s face.

“Oh my God…” You whispered, showing Rafael the phone. He quickly pulled out his own and started searching for himself. You handed Chloe back her phone and did the same. Pages and pages of articles about Raul Esparza’s shows, and accelaides, and all with Rafael's face plastered all over them.

“He’s….me,” Rafael whispered in horror.

“He looks more like you than you do!” You teased, he looked at you with a very serious face. Clearly he was not ready to joke about this yet.

“Holy shit. This is some multiverse shit,” Chloe muttered as she went through her Google search.

“Excuse me?” You asked her.

“You know, the multiverse theory? There’s an infinite amount of universes in every decision anyone ever makes.”

“Meaning…?” Rafael asked.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Chloe raised an eyebrow. “Raul could be Rafael, if he hadn’t given up on his Broadway dream,”

“Oh my god,” Rafael started laughing. “Chloe, did you get loaded in the park or something?”

“Oh okay, so you have a better idea, big brain lawyer?” She crossed her arms.

“He might not, but I do,” You piped up, showing her your phone.

“Doppelgangers?” Chloe read with a face.

“Yes, it’s a fact that there are 5 people in the world with the EXACT same face,” You continued reading.

“And he just happens to live in New York, where Rafael lives? AND is on Broadway, the one thing Rafael gave up?”

“Look sure it’s a million to one shot that those events would line up, but what’s more plausible: Doppelganger or ‘Multiverse’?” You looked at Chloe, who looked at Rafael, so you turned to Rafael as well.

“...Wha--are you asking me?” He asked.

“I mean it is your face,” You shrugged. “What do you think, baby?”

“I’m leaning towards a doppelganger, sorry Chloe,” He shrugged as well.

“Yeah well, you’re probably right,” Chloe nodded as she read her own phone, still on Raul Esparza info. “Most likely because he’s five years YOUNGER than you,”

“WHAT?!” Rafael grabbed her phone; as he read it, his face fell. “Oh God, no…”

“Wha--What does it matter how old he is, Rafa?” You furrowed your brows.

“Or the fact that he’s clearly thinner and more attractive,” Chloe added with a smirk.

“CHLOE,” You scolded her. “What the ever loving fuck?”

“Well, I’m just saying-- Look at them side by side,” Chloe had a photo of Rafael from some mayor’s ball next to Raul Esparza at the Tonys, both in tuxedo’s. You wouldn’t admit to Rafael but Raul was definitely thinner, and...he looked a lot younger. It was probably Botox or something you were sure, but still….

“Okay but again WHY does it matter--?” You wanted to change the subject.

“Are you kidding me? Y/N-- This is what you want to do!” He gestured to Chloe’s phone.

“....I don’t want Raul--” You started.

“No, you want to be on Broadway though!! And, and what if someday, God forbid, you end up in a show with this guy? He clearly already has a leg up on me compatibility wise, and as Chloe so kindly pointed out, a leg up on me age and attractiveness wise, and--” Rafael started ranting and rambling, talking lightening fast, as he did when he got upset or excited.

“Whoa whoa whoa whoa, back up there counselor,” You put up a hand to his face. “Are you actually insinuating that if I worked with Raul Esparza, that I would magically fall in love with him?”

“Don’t say it like that,” Rafael was triggered by the mention of magic and love.

“Okay but I’m not even saying ‘magic’ magic, I’m just saying-- What do you think because he’s an actor, and younger than you I’m just going to think I’m better off with him? Just because he has your face?” You gave him a small “oh honey” smile as you placed your hands on either of his face.

“No, but if you have to play his love interest, and you spend every day with him, it might blur the lines--” He started grumbling.

“Rafael, baby--” You shook his head in your hands. “I am still in SCHOOL. I am nowhere NEAR being in a Broadway show as a freaking techie, let alone a love interest starring opposite Raul Esparza,”

“Yeah, I mean this guy is huge-- 3 Tonys, 2 Emmys, an Oscar--” Chloe rattled off, but stopped when she realized you were glaring at her. “What? I’m helping!”

“...See? He’s far too famous for me,” You pressed your forehead to Rafael’s.

“Right, and I’m just the lowly ADA,” He muttered.

“Lowly my ass, Rafa,” You hit him playfully. “You are the most respected ADA in all of New York,”

“I’m the only ADA of New York,” He made a face.

“Not true! Just the city,” You beamed, proud of yourself you did some research once you had gotten together.

“My point is Rafael,” You now put your hands on his collar and pulled yourself into him. “You are all the acclaim I need,” You kissed him softly. “You’re my everything, I mean for fuck’s sake you just held a one man flash mob to propose to me! Let’s Raul Esparza do THAT,” You laughed, hoping to make him feel better. As his scowl melted into a smile, you knew you had succeeded.

“That was pretty romantic wasn’t it?” He beamed, proud of himself.

“It was EPIC,” Chloe chimed in, for good this time.

“Your voice is beautiful by the way,” You had forgotten in the midst of all of the romantic hubbub to compliment him. “I’m really sorry you had to give up Broadway,”

“Yeah, well-- apparently some part of me didn’t,” He gestured to his phone.

“Well he doesn’t have me,” You pointed out.

“He doesn’t know what he’s missing.” Rafael grinned as he pulled you into a deep kiss.

“Now can we please just forget about--” You hesitated, deciding not to mention his name again. “Anything else, and just focus on our engagement night?”

“Well, I suppose--” He nodded as he put an arm around you, and the three of you continued to walk through the park.

-------

Across town in a swanky New York Penthouse, an alert went off on Raul Esparza’s phone. He had it set to notify him any time his name appeared in a headline on the internet. He glanced over and picked it up, reading the notification. As he read it, his eyes widened and his face grew red. He stood up and yelled to no one in particular,

“Who the FUCK is trying to impersonate me?!”

[miraculouscontent]

(non-ml asks)

Anonymous said:

So the Pokémon anniversary a couple of weeks back showed two very different takes in the future of Pokémon. What are your thoughts on the Sinnoh remakes and Legends Arceus?

I really hate the Sinnoh remakes. It’s not that I hate the chibi style (I mean, Pokemon started that way), but like--remake the game but just make it “the 2D game but 3D”???? Why? And it feels disrespectful because every other remake has used the style of the other games they were in (so FRLG looked like RSE, HGSS looked like DPPt, ORAS looked like XY, and most of the time, the remakes looked outright better than the style they were based on). It’s a shame because I really wanted to see an improvement from Sword and Shield, which didn’t engage/interest me and... I don’t know if this will make total sense, but instead of an upgrade from Sun & Moon, it feels like an upgrade of XY? Like, XY’s problems but with better proportions.

I’m cautiously optimistic for Legends Arceus, if only because, “YES, AN ACTUALLY SINGLE GAME INSTEAD OF THE DUAL STUFF THEY KEEP PULLING” (which was absolutely unacceptable when they got to console stuff). I actually didn’t notice the framedrop issues because I’m used to running games on a laptop that clearly isn’t made for them, so I’m sort of immune to it. I haven’t decided if I’ll get it for sure but the premise intrigues me and I really like Arceus.

Anonymous said:

How is Moroha the Marinette of Inuyasha?

- needlessly tormented by the narrative

- things that other people do to her don’t get addressed

- people closest to her are usually awful

- awesomely overpowered yet narrative will constantly have her screw up and put her down/make her feel worthless

- gets sidelined/ignored in favor of other characters

Anonymous said:

In one of your Askplosions(don't remember which one, sorry), you said that you can't stand the Tomboy Lesbian stereotype, which, to be honest, I kind of agree with. But what about Tomboy Bisexual? I guess it's not as bad if a female character's tomboyishness/girlishness isn't used as a clue as to her sexuality(like "you know she's a lesbian because she's BUTCH!!!"), but there aren't really stereotypes associated with being bi that are based in masculinity or femininity(due to bi erasure sadly.).

kfdngjdfgd I like how you had to had that bis don’t easily get stereotypes as much due to bi erasure because you’re absolutely right.

“Tombis” are fine, I have no problem with them. Any stereotype to avoid then are just the general bi stereotypes.

Anonymous said:

I was just reading TV Tropes' page for "Gratuitous Princess" and holy shit the sexism on display here is really nauseating. It's exactly like "Improbably Female Cast"(there are too many female characters here and it's uncalled for, despite it being okay for characters to predominantly be men), in that it's basically insulting any story that has anything to do with princesses at all by saying it "isn't needed". TV Tropes has always had a way of including underhanded sexism when talking about female-dominated/aimed works or tropes having to do with female characters or anything designed to appeal to female audiences; the more feminine, the more ridiculed it is by TV Tropes, despite claiming to believe otherwise.

Similar to how I complained about their "Improbably Female Cast" trope, Gratuitous Princess claims that stories with "more princesses than is plausible for the setting" are this trope because any abundance of princesses is somehow bad or doesn't make sense, even if it would make sense for there to be that many princesses/all the characters to be princesses.

For example, they claim that an entire school of princesses is implausible and "gratuitous", but if the school is intentionally meant to be a "royal" school for girls to learn to be princesses(whether or not they were actually born into royalty), then it's not actually gratuitous and makes sense within the setting! If the story follows a monarchy, it makes sense to have lots of princesses, especially if it's aimed at young girls.

If the main characters are a group of normal girls who wish they were princesses and the story follows "fantastical" versions of their imaginary princess selves, then that also makes sense, especially if the story has "every girl can be a princess" as their moral or something. There's nothing wrong with stories like that, but TV Tropes claims they're unnecessary because anything involving princesses(stuff little girls like) are automatically shoehorned in.

Just look at the examples, which are all written in an unnecessarily derogatory way, with statements such as "for some reason, she's called a princess", or "the rulers should be queens, and yet they're princesses"(when it COULD just be a principality; do your research, TV Tropes), or "how this has anything to do with princessing is never explained", as if the mere fact that she's a princess is something bad or worthy of scorn.

They even claim Sailor Moon is this trope when Naoko Takeuchi simply wanted the story to revolve around a group of girls who just so happened to be reincarnated princesses who ruled over their respective planet. It's supposed to be a girl power wish fulfillment fantasy that appeals teenage girls by showing all the girly things they like as implements of power!

And yet TV Tropes disses it for just that, because anything that's made to appeal to girls can't ever make sense. Now, if they were complaining about how, in aggregate, shows about princesses or in which every female character is a princess can reinforce the notion that the only way for a female character to be noteworthy in any way is if she's a princess, then that would be different, but that's not what's happening. They're dissing princess stories just for existing. No matter what, TV Tropes always finds something bad to say about female-driven storylines.

Always. Just look at their page for "Most Fanfic Writers Are Girls", "Pony Tale", and "Frills of Justice". There's always a mean-spirited undertone, as if they hate the very idea of these stories and narrative devices existing just because they're designed to appeal to little girls. I'm not saying you're never allowed to critique those stories the way you would any other, it's just the WAY TV Tropes does it. They're not critiquing, they're sarcastically mocking. They're going about it all wrong! And it's especially obvious when they never do it to boys' shows, even though those shows often do have messages that can actually be harmful and even ignore or objectify women. But I guess the latter is why they don't care. Boys will be boys, am I right?

Oh joy, internalized/intentional misogyny!

Ugh, I’ve been lucky enough to stay away from those articles on TV Tropes. I hate it when opinions clearly start seeping into the article.

For example, “Kiss Your Hand” (I think that’s the name) sums up the whole “hand kissing” thing and goes into detail about how nowadays it’s considered more uncomfortable/creepy, which isn’t necessarily an opinion but just detailing how the times have changed.

AND JUST LET US FEMALES HAVE GIRL SHOWS WITHOUT MAKING BACKHANDED COMMENTS.

It’s the same thing with stuff like “chick flicks,” y’know? Maybe it’s just been having to hang out with my father and hearing him make dumb blond jokes and talks about how chick flicks are boring/bad but UGH, I’m sick of it.

Anonymous said:

Hi, so I was thinking about what you said about how there aren't words for guys who act either masculine or feminine, and I agree, it's totally unfair, but technically feminine boys are called janegirls(or femboys, I don't know if that's specifically an LGBTQ+ term or not, so excuse me if it is, but I've heard it used this way before), or tomgirls(even though last time I checked, the term "tomgirl" referred to either a girly tomboy or a tomboyish girly girl, but I digress).

As for masculine guys, I'm not so sure there's a term for it, I guess since deviation from masculinity is less acceptable for men than deviation from femininity is for women(because, you know, femininity=lesser. ;(), although there IS the term "macho"...but that tends to be used in a derogatory sense nowadays. I've also heard "boys' boy", "manly man", etc. TV Tropes has a trope called "Sensitive Guy and Manly Man" as the male counterpart to Tomboy and Girly Girl. So I guess there are terms.

I also just wanted to add that the term "tomboy" technically was originally a male phrase to describe a young boy who was boisterous, loud, mischievous, and out-of-control; in other words, a misbehaved, trouble kid. I don't know how or when it got attributed to girls, I think there was the term tomgirl at one point(though now it's just used for an in-between type of girl), but even that is barely used anymore. Not sure where or when the term "girly girl" came about, though, sorry to say. ;(

Yeah, that’s true. I’ve honestly never heard the term “janegirls” before, but I’d prefer if a “““masculine”““ girl was just called “tomgirl” instead. It feels less like “girl acting like a boy” and--yeah, calling a girl one thing or another just makes it look like they’re “““different”““ from “““normal girls”““ and I just roll my eyes.

Anonymous said:

Hi, I know the post you're talking about(in your fourth non-ml Askplosion) about a boy who related more to female characters! It was on BoredPanda and it was by Damian Alexander(it can also be found on his official Tumblr), and it was called "Guy Illustrates How Boys Develop Sexism From Seemingly Small Interactions With Adults" and it was all about how he loved female characters like Matilda, Alice, Mulan, Dorothy, Anne of Green Gables, and The Powerpuff Girls, and was routinely made fun of and discouraged from liking them, even from the teacher, who assigned everybody a paper(I mean not really they were probably in pre/elementary school but whatevs) about a fictional character they looked up to, but wouldn't let Damian write about Matilda, even though she let girls write about Spiderman, Harry Potter, and Peter Pan. And he basically talked about how this kind of societal attitude conditions boys to see girls as inferior and not worthy of being looked up to. It's really interesting.

Thank you! Now people can maybe go read it~

Anonymous said:

So you talked about how shows for women are considered lame and overdramatic, while shows for men are allowed to sexualize women and still be seen as good because they're MANLY, and it just reminded me of how TV Tropes has a page called "So You Want To Write A Shonen Series" and one of their points was literally that since teenage boys are horny, they'll relate to a male lead that pervs on girls and peeps on them dressing, but that you shouldn't have the girl be aware or actually hit the boy, because that has Unfortunate Implications. What were those Unfortunate Implications according to TV Tropes, you ask? Double Standard Abuse: Female-on-Male. Wow. So basically they're saying it's perfectly okay for a boy to sexually harass a girl and show absolutely no respect for her privacy because it's what "all" teenage boys want to see/do, but the second a girl actually defends her agency it's a bad thing, and they have the NERVE to say it's sexist against BOYS on top of that. Ugh. I just...

S...sexist against boys...

I can’t--I just--

Also, cue the girl punching/hitting and then the girl is immediately considering “aggressive” for defending herself from being perved on, and even if people say that the girl didn’t deserve to be perved on, they’ll be like, “bUT SHE DIDN’T HAVE TO GO tHaT fAr.”

Anonymous said:

I just realized something: the term "uncanny valley" literally comes from the Japanese words "bukimi no tani", meaning we LITERALLY wouldn't have the English term without the Japanese one. So, yeah, tropers can shut the fuck up now about tropes having Japanese names because "no one will know what it means!". -_-

These people DO know that words in the English language are compromised/inspired by a bunch of other languages, right???

eggchjf said:

someone probably pointed this out but ALSO not only does Marinette have Homura's VA, but Alya is voiced by Mami's VA (Carrie Keranen)

why did you have to ruin everything for me

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaagh

Anonymous said:

Hi, I'm the Madoka salt anon. And I just wanted to say that I'm really sorry for bombarding you with all those asks. I didn't mean to be a "monster", I guess I just got carried away because, let's face it: there aren't a lot of people who dislike this show. Almost everyone glorifies this show as feminist empowerment while dismissing other Magical Girl shows as lesser than or somehow less feminist despite being written by women for women. These people won't give female authors the time of day and so when a man shows up suddenly they jump on the Magical Girl Fan bandwagon and praise it for doing what the genre has already done.

And when you do hear a different opinion, that person gets told off, insulted, blocked, downvoted, whatever because how dare you hate this show written by men for men rather than the stuff written by women for women? I once saw someone on Quora ask why Madoka was so popular when all it did was use the cliche "time loops" concept in so many other plots, and the response was literally "You didn’t know what you were looking at, so mistook your opinion for relevant commentary."

Let that sink in. If you don't agree with people who like Madoka Magica, it's because you're simply too dumb to understand how deep and complex it is, and your opinion doesn't matter. I've also heard the similar "You have no idea what you just watched" or "You're not smart enough to understand it" or "It's too complicated for you" nonsense and I hate it. Because most of what Madoka does isn't even that twisted or hard to understand; it's relatively simple when you look at it. The show just makes it dark. Monsters stealing energy from teenage girls? Sailor Moon did that and did it better(and didn't just go after teenage girls/women, so it wasn't based off sexism and "teenage girls are hysterical"). Hardships of being a magical girl? Girls uniting against evil? Female friendships/romance? So many other Magical Girl shows did that, too.

Come to think of it, Madoka Magica didn't even have the girls fight back against the system because only Madoka found a way out and purified the girls souls? Girl realizes she's been going about being a hero the wrong way and is confronted with her own selfishness? Look at Utena, which mastered this much more skillfully. Magical girl gets in a love triangle with another girl, vies for the affection of a fragile white-haired boy, and loses? Princess Tutu, except that the other girl was also a Magical Girl, they became friends and actually rebelled against the system together, and Ahiru(aka Princess Tutu) didn't fall into the pit of despair because girls should be punished for their sexualities and compete against each other for men and if a guy doesn't like you, you're worthless.

Even the whole "these girls are liches" thing wasn't very complex and well-handled as a lot of people like to think: the gems are called Soul Gems because your soul is in a gem. Wow. So clever. And they're Grief Seeds because they're seeds released from grievous witches. Also(not) clever. Even the fact that the acronyms are reversed(SG, GS) because Magical Girls turn into witches just made me go "yawn, I get it".

The whole show is just very lazily done and designed and tries too hard to be scary and deep and complex and "not like those other Magical Girl shows" while also trying too hard to make the girls super cute but also super badass so that we both are led to think it's a traditional Magical Girl show AND feel bad when these girls die because whoops they weren't so strong and badass after all!

Not to mention the whole "Magical Girls become witches just like how girls become women" thing really pisses me off because it shits on the whole coming-of-age aspect of Magical Girl as well(strong girls embracing their agency as they prepare to enter womanhood) by instead demonizing the very concept so that "becoming a woman" is a bad, vile, horrible thing(because being a woman makes you "more powerful", so the more powerful a woman is, the more mentally unstable she is) and then topping it off by having Madoka save the girls from becoming witches, aka women, making sure they never achieve a more mature state and maintain a level of childlike naivete.

It has so many misogynistic themes and concepts(girls are emotional, girls are weak-willed, girls are impressionable, girls shouldn't be selfish, girls shouldn't try to be heroes, girls should be pit against each other especially over a guy, girls shouldn't achieve power or become women, and more, and more, and more), that are stated matter-of-factly within the story and always proven right by the narrative, and yet people gobble it up and anytime somebody points it out, they are met with utter hostility.

Some people even defend it by saying those things are true! People only like Madoka because it's written by a man and depicts women suffering, in a genre written by women and meant to empower girls, which they don't like. And also because anything a man writes is automatically deeper and more valid than anything a woman writes.

So that's why when I found out that you didn't like Madoka either I was more than happy to discuss it with you, but I realize now that I was going overboard. I was just so happy that there was someone who agreed with me and actually understood what I was trying to say and found it problematic, and the fact that you say you're not that well-versed in Magical Girl proves my point even more because you don't even have to watch much Magical Girl to know that this is fucked up.

If you want me to stop sending Madoka salt asks, then fine. I'll stop. I didn't mean to bother you with these asks, I just wanted to see your point of view on Madoka Magica when everybody else is singing its praises left and right and never stopping once to actually think about it(while also claiming that people who don't like it are the ones "not thinking".). Hearing someone who's actually critical of this nonsense show is refreshing.

Firstly thank you for the ask! It’s honestly not your fault, I’ve just been struggling a bit lately with ask overloads.

That doesn’t necessarily mean I want you to stop, but I’d rather discuss it over Tumblr DMs so things are more balanced. Walls of text can be a little overwhelming for me (that’s why sometimes I try to balance my own walls of text with screenshots).

Anonymous said:

I've been thinking of how much I hate the misogyny in Puella Magi Madoka Magica, so I decided that instead of just salting about it(even though I still do from time to time because they're legitimate critiques and boy is it fun), I'm going to start talking about what I would do to improve it. Now doing this may mean it won't be the "dark" anime many people have wanted it to be, but I've been thinking of it for a while and it's my personal opinion, so let's get to it:

First, I would still have the Incubators, though they would probably have a different name because the name "Incubator" is pretty skeevy and part of a lot of the misogyny in the show. They would still recruit magical girls(who are called "Puellae Magi" in-universe, at least in the English dub and possibly some other dubs as well), only they do it for a different reason: Incubators go after teenage girls who are leading rough, difficult lives, and the magical girl contracts help them to improve their lives and give them a reason to live. They still make wishes, but the wishes don't screw them over because of their secret "selfishness".

However, if a potential magical girl is unclear or unsure of what she truly wishes for, this may lead things to go haywire. Basically, the whole magical girl thing is more heartwarming and the Incubators truly want to help the ladies in need, not just leech off of them. There's also no Soul Gems, or at least, their souls aren't actually in the Gems. They're called such because the Gems are powered by their Souls, and rather than the girls losing consciousness and "dying" when their Gems are too far apart from them, they simply lose their ability to perform magic and their magic becomes weaker. They still have stronger bodies though, much stronger than average humans, because becoming a magical girl gives them super strength/speed/stamina and all that, just WITHOUT making them liches.

Their Gems are non-interchangeable, so you can only use your own, not another girl's. As for the witches, they still exist, but witches weren't the intention of the Incubators; they're due to a botched experiment and it's up to magical girls to not only fight and defeat them, but return them to their original selves, thus showing that hope always does triumph over despair. I would also have the magical girls fight not only witches, but ordinary criminals as well, because having them fight only witches gets a little boring and predictable.

And finally, while there would still be only teenage girls who are chosen to become magical girls, it wouldn't be because they're "the most emotional" or some Hysterical Woman shit like that. It would be something more empowering, like, maybe only teenage girls are chosen because they're the most capable of magic and are simply more powerful magically than everyone else. They would still have their powers as adult women, but you have to be a teenage girl(well, one with a difficult/horrible life) to be recruited in the first place, if that makes sense.

And maybe older magical girls(well, women) would be able to mentor and assist younger ones(which is very much in-line with the coming of age themes present in magical girl, women supporting and uplifting younger girls as they advance into womanhood). This would make the claim that women such as Anne Frank, Joan of Arc, Cleopatra, and Queen Himiko were magical girls less...iffy, but I still wouldn't make it so that ALL influential women were magical girls, nor that humanity would be in caves without the Incubators. There'd also be transformation/detrasformation phrases of course.

In short, the magical girl system exists more so as a form of wish fulfillment, both in and out of universe, since it's for teenage girls with rough lives who are "empowered" by becoming magical girls and getting to live out a fantasy of fighting crime while looking pretty, as an exchange for getting a wish fulfilled that will help them improve their lives. Only teenage girls have this ability because they're the strongest magic users, not because of "female hysteria". In other words, the magical girl system exists to support and benefit the girls, rather than exploit them.

Now, since I mainly went over the magical girl system itself, I'll talk about the characters. Kyoko still loves to eat, is still relatively selfish, and still has discord with Sayaka, but they overcome it and become friends MUCH sooner and in a much more natural way. Mami and Kyoko's relationship will actually be stated in-universe, not just in some side material. Sayaka still has a crush on her male friend, but confesses to him before Hitomi does. At this point, he either says yes and they hit it off but eventually don't work out and decide they'd be better as friends, or he says no and she's sad but perfectly fine with that, and encourages Hitomi to go after Kyousuke. Hitomi may do it if Kyousuke turns down Sayaka, or she may feel bad about going after him after her best friend just got turned down, especially if she's worried about getting turned down herself, since Sayaka has known him far longer so she has even less of a chance, right? If Hitomi does confess, Kyousuke WILL say yes, but because his arm was healed due to Sayaka's wish, he's more concerned about playing the violin than spending time with his alleged girlfriend and they eventually fall out. This is keeping in line with Gen's claim that Kyousuke isn't a good match for either of the two girls. Though they may get together in the future.

As for Sayaka...well, she gets with Kyoko and it's actually made CANONICAL in-universe. I don't know about Madoka and Homura though, if she's less possessive of Madoka than she was in canon then perhaps she has a shot. Either way, I would really love if the ships were actually canon and not just queerbaiting. Regardless, Sayaka and Hitomi stay friends. Also, on a meta level, I would really love it if there were more female writers on Madoka Magica, and that the show was targeted towards a female viewing audience, which would mean toning down the fanservice(if not removing it entirely), as well as the troublesome aspects, as I've talked about earlier. And no "torturing young innocent girls and restricting their agency" since that's not what the magical girl genre is about and it never has been. This probably means more episodes though. Anyway, there's probably more stuff I'm forgetting, but to sum it up, this is how I would fix Madoka Magica. What do you think?

I think it’s a really good idea!!! Refreshing~ You know I’m all about fix-its.

Plus, all I heard was “Madoka Magica without being edgy” and I’m like, “yes please, I’m here for it.”

Anonymous said:

About Improbably Female Cast, it has come to my attention that Madoka Magica has been removed from the list. Someone in the discussion section of the trope removed it saying that since it's a magical GIRL show, it having a majority female cast isn't "improbable". The Touhou example is still there, though, because there's apparently something wrong with stories that have less men than women or have next to no men in them. Because a prominent male character is a requirement to tell a good story.

They also removed Strawberry Panic! because it takes place in an all girls' school, and Y: The Last Man, because it takes place in a futuristic world where almost all the men died. But still, the fact that those examples were there at all speaks volumes about the double standard there at TV Tropes. Even if the story has a realistic and plausible reason for the setting to be mostly female, as the examples above are, TV Tropes still considered them improbable. It's as if TV Tropes doesn't just dislike/question stories about a mostly female cast when it doesn't "have" to be, they dislike/question majority female casts in GENERAL! And the closest they have to a Spear Counterpart is Cast Full of Pretty Boys, which is a totally different trope: a cast in which most of the characters are "bishounen" aka pretty boys, because it appeals to a female demographic.

So it's "justified" but female casts aren't. And the playing with section reeks of "Stay in The Kitchen" sexism, with statements can be okay or even exist is if it's a harem or exists to titillate men who crave girl-on-girl interaction(and in fact, the main page lists this as their FIRST reason such a cast would exist, appealing to little girls and/or queer women is secondary/tertiary in their eyes), and the situations they propose in which the trope could be played with almost all involve the few boys attempting to hook up with as many women as possible or manipulating the women to fall in love with them, with the so-called justification that "the viewers just like their lesbians". And almost all their quotes(same on the Playing With page) are about people whining and complaining that the cast has too many girls in it. The Image Links section even has a link to a picture of two boys griping and bleating about the lack of boys in whatever show they're watching("They don't appeal to our demographic!" "Why are there no boys in our story?"), which TV Tropes has the nerve to call a "witty observation".

But what pisses me off even more is the fact that a predominantly female cast even NEEDS a justification in the first place. They only pulled specific examples of shows that supposedly dictated that the cast MUST be mainly female: Magical Girl shows, all-girls school settings, stories in which the entirety of men were killed off...only in extreme circumstances can you "resort" to using female characters but if the situation was reversed, the male equivalent wouldn't be considered improbable to BEGIN WITH. And this is despite the fact that the discussion page is FULL of people saying the trope should be renamed because of sexism, detailing many things I'm detailing right now, to the point where it's even gone off TV Tropes and is right here on Tumblr itself(one troper called it "PC whining", just ugh)! I just wish TV Tropes would realize the inherent sexism in calling such a cast improbable, since it makes it look like they're unhappy with the representation. Then again, they might be.

I’VE NOTICED THAT TOO, YEAH.

show: *has predominately female cast*

people: oKaY I guess that makes sense bUT ONlY BECAUSE--

And because misogyny isn’t as widely discouraged as... example, people would be absolutely crucified for complaining about a show having “too many POCs”... it means that those comments usually get ignored.

Anonymous said:

The Improbably Female Cast talk, especially the part about men complaining when stories have mostly female characters/seeing spaces that are 1/3 female as "majority female", reminded me of how I saw a study somewhere talking about the differences between how men and women dream, and it was saying that men's dreams tend to have more men than women in them, while women's dreams tend to have an equal amount of members from both sexes. Yikes. Even in their sleep men want women out of the picture.

And just in case you're curious, I found the study itself! It's called "Gender Similarities and Differences in Dreams", though if you look up "differences in how men and women dream" it should be the second thing under the link that also includes a snippet of the article. To quote the study itself: "there is a gender difference in how often men and women include male and female characters in their dreams: men dream twice as often about other men as they do about women(67% vs. 33%), and women dream equally about both sexes (48% men, 52% women). This is the largest difference between American men and women." Ouch. Granted, it's specifically talking about Americans, but I don't even want to imagine how even more skewed it probably is in men's favors for men in other countries(not gonna name drop any ACTUAL countries obviously.)! Internalized misogyny runs deep, to the point where men can't even conceive of women having a more significant role than them in anything, even in dreams.

And it runs deeper than that, too. I saw a post on Micechat called "The Smurfette Principle" by JMora. You probably already know what that is, but just in case you don't(or anyone else reading this doesn't), it's a trope describing the tendency for works to have a disproportionate amount of male characters with only one female in the group, if not the whole cast(named after Smurfette, the only female Smurf). The entire article is really well written and it discusses the gender disparity in fiction quite nicely, but what I'd really like to call your attention to is near the end, where they talked about how this effects kids, especially boys.

Movies that make most of their characters male while shoehorning females in female-specific roles are treating maleness as the default while femaleness is a special case, and this leads to films about men being seen as "unisex" while films about women are seen as "for girls" only. As a result, this leads to little girls being willing to watch movies about boys AND girls, while little boys watch movies only about other boys.

This also extends to the stories they write. Girls write stories with male and female protagonists equally, while boys almost exclusively write stories with male protagonists. Girls' stories tend to have a mixture of boys and girls, whereas boys' stories have all boys in them. It relates to what I was saying earlier about how men's dreams have mostly male characters while women's dreams are equal: how our society conditions boys to think that girls just aren't important and don't matter much. To quote the article, "Girls already know they can be the main pirates; it's the boys who aren't getting the message". Thankfully my little(male) cousin likes shows about girls and shows about boys just as much: he likes Pirates of the Caribbean, and he also likes Enchanted. But the majority of boys still dismiss shows for girls as "girly" as if girly is a bad thing but boyish isn't, and when they don't it's weird.

The best part is that this led someone else to realize their own mistakes regarding overrepresentation of men vs underrepresentation of women. A guy named Mouse Macabre realized that the comic he was working on had 8 main characters, 6 male, 2 female, and had to go back and work so that there was an equal amount. All he had to do was make two of his male characters female, and there you have it! Four male main characters, 4 female! Then why is it so hard for the majority of men these days?

Ugh, I don’t know. Like, as soon as people hear “we’re adding more characters for equality/to give women more attention,” it suddenly becomes “““forced.”““

Alright then I guess we’ll just have a bunch of white male shows then because adding diversity is forced and uNnaTuRaL.

We had POCs and more female characters and suddenly certain white males feel ignored and disenfranchised. :|

Poor things, not like there are ten millions other things they could be watching instead.

Also, inevitable response to the dream thing: men agreeing to dream more about woman... but they’re sexualized.

[indianamoonshine]

solo’s copilot ♡︎ chapter two / “all women should”

summary: “Then you realize...it's because he's starved. Starved of affection himself. Of adoration. Of touch. He'd been Kylo Ren for years, dwelling in solitude with no one to hold him, no one to make love to, no one to cry for. You realize then that he craved closeness and he wanted it with you."

rating: M for suggestive content

AN: hi friends! it's me - mikaela - your local ben simp. i should be working on my screenplay, but i can't get this story out of my head. i actually had a lot of fun writing this chapter! the thing that tasha did to reader - you know the one. the vagina thing? yeah. i actually had a friend do this to me irl.

Tasha's nails clink impatiently against her glass of mither. She's been itching to say it for the past hour - you know she has.

"So..." she begins ominously. You prepare for her greatest performance. What were best friends for? "Big night for Ben, huh?"

The two of you stand at the bar of The Water Hole, a local cantina, and watch as Ben (along with some other Resistance fighters) aggressively chug their ales. He looks wild and, truthfully, on his way to being fried. You can't help but laugh when he spills on himself, brow arching in confusion, and then grumbling when he sees the mess he's made. He pretends like no one saw, but you did; you always see him. The way that particular strand of his hair dangles over his forehead had you biting your lip as he laughed, completely unaware of how fucking hot he was. Sometimes you hated him for that.

You turn to Tasha, pretending not to catch onto what she's implying, but she's grinning wickedly at you.

"Yep," you say half-heartedly, continuing to observe the room.

It's dim, but bright enough so that you're able to distinguish faces from one another. Lance, a blonde man with an unfortunate amount of sweat stains, converses animatedly with Ben. Then there's Bella, a witty and stunningly beautiful woman with emerald hair who cozies up with her boyfriend. You didn't recognize all the faces here. Some of them were bounty hunters or smugglers passing through, but the ones you did know where notorious party animals. You had a feeling you'd be nursing a hangover in the morning.

Tasha swirls her drink with a slender finger. "Could be a big night for you, too."

Bingo. Took her long enough.

Still, you pretend it takes you off guard, and pretend to choke on your drink. "What?"

Your friend rolls her eyes. She means well, just as she always has, ever since the two of you were toddlers. Growing up with her should've made more of a rebellious impact on you but it didn't. Not to say you didn't enjoy drinking and being with friends - you did, just not every night like Tasha. And that was fine; she was good at it. Sometimes you wished you were as talented as socializing as she was; you might be predisposed to make the kind of money she did. Tasha, in addition to being a Resistance fighter, was also the center of many wealthy men and women's lives.

"Ah, don't play coy." She slaps you in jest, but her strength causes a sting.

You stick out your tongue like a child eating something sour. "Boys have cooties," you joke. You know very well Ben did not have cooties.

Tasha rolls her eyes and smirks, holding the straw to her mouth before continuing. "Even a blushing virgin knows what success does to a man." She takes a long sip while wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. "It builds their ego..."

She takes a look at Ben from across the room. You do too. And despite how much Tasha adores you - how willing she would be to step in front of a blaster for you - she can't help but drink in the sight of the scoundrel who so handsomely laughs with friends. He's warm. He's kind.

He is absolutely perfect in every way. You don't blame her for the lust.

"Though, I don't think he needs much help with that." Her eyes fall lower and she does obviously enough so that you see where she's looking.

Tasha tears her eyes from Ben's - unquestionably - well endowed bulge. "You sure you can handle that?" she asks you with a wink.

You weren't the jealous type. Really. But everyone made their desire for him so loud; it was hard not to be jealous in some way or another. All the women (and men) on base who were gorgeous, intelligent, and very single were surely competent enough to take him from you.

But he hadn't left. Not in the five months you've been seeing one another; it's what you kept you from clawing peoples' eyes out.

"You're insatiable," you tell her. "Now you want him too?"

Tasha gives you an incredulous and pointed look. "You know I love you...but you also know that everyone on base wants him." She scoffs. "Don't pretend like you don't know that. You're so goddamned lucky."

You take a quiet slurp of your drink, eyes locked onto the way he concentrates to what Lance is saying. His eyebrows furrow and he nods, sucking the inside of his cheek and it makes his jawline more prominent. You feel a heat bloom in your body and know how lucky you are. For fuck's sake, you still can't believe it.

"He could be bad at it," you say then, though you know the idea is ridiculous.

Tasha shakes her head and light bounces off her pretty, blonde pin curls. "I wouldn't count on it. He has a reputation...just like his dad..." she says dreamily, as though she knew Han Solo personally.

There's a silence between the two of you before she says, "Are you prepared?" like she already knows the answer.

You shrug. "Can you ever be prepared for something like this?"

Tasha looks at you like you're not serious. Maybe she was expecting another answer.

"For sex?" Yes," she says simply. "God, you're the mature one, too."

"I have an implant if that's what you're wondering." You lift up your forearm to the light and see the outline of a very small, very faint chip embedded beneath your skin. It wasn't required in the Resistance - not anymore. But once you and Ben started dating, the idea of an accident seemed more plausible than what you'd like to imagine.

She looks thoughtfully at a space above your head. "Okay, yes, that's very important. But have you shaved?"

There's a pang of fear that lights up your abdomen. Shit. 

"I didn't exactly plan on this happening tonight!" you argue under your breath.

She doesn't take a breath. "What are you wearing?" Damn woman, cut me some slack, you think.

You blink a few times, trying to process her question, and crinkle your nose when you come up short. "Is that a trick question?"

Your dear friend looks exasperated and maybe even a little disappointed. After all these years of confiding in you about her various sexual endeavors, you surely could've picked up on the basics. Weren't you listening when she told you about the crotch-less underwear she wore for Mike in transmissions? Did you forget about the time she showered before a hook-up, swiped a finger in her vagina, and held it to your nose before asking, "Be honest...do I smell?" (No. You hadn't forgotten that - as much as you wanted to - but for the record: she didn't.)

"You don't have any lingerie?" she asks, dumbfounded.

"Why would I have lingerie?" you whisper heatedly and a little too quickly.

A man with a false eye turns his neck to glance at you, perplexed by the dialogue, but intrigued nonetheless. You glare at him and scoot farther away.

"Maybe because you're in a relationship with possibly the sexiest man in the galaxy, that's why!" she responds, throwing her free hand in the air for dramatics - she was always very good at that.

Tasha rubs her right temple as you cross your arms in defense, waiting for her to say something else. And then she does. An idea pops into her head, a lightbulb practically manifesting to gleam over her.

"T-shirt," she decides.

"Huh?"

"Holy fuck, are you this naive?" she asks, but she's hiding laughter. "Men go nuts when we do that. They like knowing we're smaller than them..." she cocks an eyebrow in amusement. "Though, that's never really been the case for me."

Tasha is tall. Six feet and two inches tall. You try to imagine her drowning in a man's shirt but couldn't possibly conjure up someone big enough to give her something to disappear in. Chewbacca, maybe.

You try to shake the thought away, to imagine one of Ben's plain tees hanging just below your shaking knees. How you could possibly work with that solely because you knew how much bigger he was than you. Throw on a little lip gloss, maybe. Mascara? Blush? No. No blush; he'll be getting you red enough.

Oh. The thought makes you clench.

But what if he preferred a woman who was natural? You wore makeup in front of him when he took you on your first date, honestly just for an excuse to dress in something other than your uniform. But because of the way his pupils expanded when he saw you, you decided to dress up more often. Did it matter? If he was worth it, he'd like you any way. And you knew Ben was worth it. Still, all these questions and all these rules for sex were overwhelming for someone who hadn't even given a blow-job. You take another drink of your liquid courage as your head spins with possibilities. They were endless.

Tasha watches with an enigmatic smile as you fix your hair to frame it the way Ben likes. "Okay," you say, but you're really only talking to yourself. "I'm going in."

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

A wide smile forms on Ben's face when you arrive at the table.

You're shaking, but doing your best to hide it, hoping that the façade of alcohol might camouflage your trembling fingers. Ben reaches his arms out to you and you accept his invitation to sit snuggly on his lap. You fit in it perfectly, especially when your head leans back against the curvature of his shoulder. He caresses your arm and you notice how his fingers trace over the indentation of your birth control. For some reason, that triggers a primal instinct, and you press your face into his neck.

"Did you get anything to drink?" Ben asks, lifting your chin with his index finger.

You nod, eyes sparkling when they meet his. You can feel the nervousness slowly dissolve in your body, but it could be because of the alcohol inoculating through your veins. "I did, thank you."

"Why didn't you let me pay for it? I would've." He kisses your cheek softly and then the other. "How many have you had?"

You shrug. "Just one." You lean into his touch, relishing in the electricity that burns your insides. It feels so good. "Nothing I can't handle."

He smirks, but behind it there's something you can't quite put your finger on. It's wicked, but tempting. Licentious, but adoring. It makes you blush, especially by the way he so openly touches your face with such softness. You never expected Ben to be so unstirred by potential reactions from others. Who knew Ben was so into public displays of affection?

Then you realize...it's because he's starved. Starved of affection himself. Of adoration. Of touch. He'd been Kylo Ren for years, dwelling in solitude with no one to hold him, no one to make love to, no one to cry for. You realize then that he craved closeness and he wanted it with you.

For fuck's sake, it's bringing tears to your eyes. You try to stop them by burying your face in his collarbone again but it doesn't work. His beating heart, his breathing, his warmth makes you even more emotional. You want to wrap yourself around him until the two of you become one - until you can pass on whatever it was that he needed from your own spirit. Whatever he needed, he'd get from you.

Gods...did you...did you love him?

No. No, it's too early, you tell yourself. You can't love him. It could end just as easily as it began, even if he did love you back. Something would eventually happen - he could die, you could die, the spark could burn out after the honeymoon phase ended. This is what you've convinced yourself, not only with Ben, but with other men too. And they always did end up leaving, even if you begged them to stay.

"You okay, baby?" he mumbles in your hair.

His voice brings you back to life. He'd never called you baby before. You're surprised to find how much you like it.

You lift your head and watch as his irises seem to turn another shade of mahogany. "Yep," you smile, running your fingers through his hair. You begin to slowly run your fingers across his scalp as though to mend a wound that wasn't there. Not in the bone, anyway. His conscious; you'd try to mend his psyche, and maybe it was an unintentional move from your own subconscious. But you allowed it.

Ben hums from your gentle touch, forgetting about the drink in his hand. He sets it down and leans back against the booth, eyes shut, and smiling as you play with his locks, twirling them around your fingers. You admire the way it shines in the dim lighting - he took care of himself well. That means he could take care of you, too. The idea makes you shiver in his arms.

The group of friends talk with one another in loud, jubilant conversation. When Ben doesn't say anything after some time, Lance pipes up.

"How you doin' over there, Solo?" He's chuckling by the way Ben's loosened his limps while savoring your embrace.

It must be a sight to see. Ben's almost slumped over in his seat with only a couple of drinks in his system as a girl half his size twiddles with his hair. Solo didn't relax much - he was always on the move, so to see him in this state was probably more reliving than humorous.

Ben just lifts a hand, eyes still closed, enjoying your fingers as they dance around his face. You count the small moles on his skin his under your breath and trace the slope of his nose. Eck. What had you become? PDA hadn't ever tickled your fancy before, so why are you all of a sudden so fuckin' cringeworthy?

Then you realize you didn't care. Ben Solo was practically purring against you as you squirmed in his lap. And you knew by the way he snaps open his eyes, some kind of fire raging behind them, and grabs ahold of your hips:

That he.

Was going.

To fuckin'.

Wreck you.

You'd let him. And he knows that too by the way you squeal when he picks you up and throws you over his shoulder. He gives you a light swat on your butt as he stands and you burst into laughter, not giving a single shit about who thinks what anymore.

"Alright, Petals. I think it's time to go now," he announces and bobs you back into place against him.

Lance lets out a whistle that implies what everyone was thinking. "Have fun, you two!" he shouts from across the cantina.

And as you hoot with laughter - the kind of laughter you know is genuine - you spot Tasha at the bar. She holds up her drink and nods her head as though to say:

"As all women should."

[mageicalwishes]

Read on AO3: Here

Rating: Teen & Up

Chapter: 1/? (More chapters to come a little later in Dec + Early Jan!) 

Summary: A loose crossover between Carry On and parts of I'll Give You The Sun. "He’s haloed under the streetlights, and I’m trying not to stare. But, it’s hard. His face is celestial - The sunshine of his soul peeking through his features. I want to say more, just so that he doesn’t leave. Our houses are right there but, I feel so ... multicoloured."

Carry On Countdown, Day 10 - Crossover @carryon-countdown​

Tags: Fluff, Getting Together, Meet-Cute, Social Anxiety, Crossover, Pining Baz, Artist Baz, Space Enthusiast Simon, Star Gazing, Anxious Thoughts,  Carry On Countdown 2020 Day 10

Words: 2,145

Baz

I need to stop thinking about grey, slippery roads and black shrouds. About the purple under my Father’s dull eyes, and the red of my Aunt’s anger. I need to stop thinking about me - About my life. My head is too loud. Too noxious. I need someone else to take my mind for a while. I need to see. To paint. And so, I search for a subject. 

Dragging my binoculars across the bleak, colourless houses, I search, desperately, for even a glimpse of a hue. But the colours are slipping from the world again. They always do when I’m trapped in my head.

And then I see them - The movers - so far from colourless that I’m dizzied. They’re great work horses, both of them - One chestnut, and one palomino - Hulking a grandfather clock up the house-next-door’s stairs. I’m zooming in, before I have time to reconsider - Into the stretch of navy against the flex of their arms, the rose flush of their foreheads, the tan swath of smooth stomach revealed each time they lift their arms. And then ... Shit. 

I drop the binoculars onto the floor, my body following swiftly behind them. Because, on the roof of the house, there’s a boy pointing a telescope directly at me. Fucking Hell. How long has he even been there?

I risk a glance over the top of my windowsill. He’s wearing a tatty purple jumper, and there’s a mess of bronze curls tangled atop his head. Even without the binoculars, I can see that he’s grinning at me. Is he laughing at me, already? Does he know what I was doing? That I was watching the movers? Does he think that I’m ...? He must. Why else would I be ogling them. God. I feel the dread pinching at my throat, and try to tether my mind, so that it doesn’t get away from me again. Maybe he’s just a smiley person. Maybe he thinks I was looking at his clock. That’s equally as plausible, surely? And, I mean, he has a telescope. Dickheads don’t tend to have telescopes, do they?

Tugging at the ends of my hair, I stand. When he sees me he waves, but before I have a chance to reciprocate, he’s reaching into his pocket, drawing his arms backwards, and lobbing something straight at me. (Maybe he is a dickhead, after all). 

On reflex, I stick out my hand. The unknown object slapping hard against my skin, as I close my fingers around it. 

“Nice catch!” He yells. His voice deep and bright, with a definite Northern tinge. I decide that I like it. It suits him. 

But, I don’t know what to say back. So, I don’t. Instead, I examine his potentially dangerous ‘gift’ - Spinning the rock around in the palm of my hand. It’s small (About the size of a pound coin) and covered in irregular lightening-like cracks. What am I supposed to do with it? Do I throw it back? Why did he even throw it at me, in the first place? I don’t know, but I slip it into my back pocket for safe-keeping, anyway. 

When I look back at him, hoping for some kind of explanation, he’s turned himself back towards the sky. Too focused on looking through his telescope to notice me. Which, to be honest, is odd. I mean, it’s daytime. What could he possibly be looking at? 

Even though I’m curious, I don’t stick around to find out. I’m worryingly off-kilter, and I need to rebalance. I hadn’t prepared myself for meeting a new person. I wasn’t ready. And so, I run to the place that I know best, to recuperate - The Art Institute. Where I can carry out further recon on the studio. 

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

It was a good, productive sketch session. Nobody caught me peeping through the window, and I was able to get a few decent body references down. But … I don’t feel my usual post-art calm. My mind is still racing (Although, with a different genre of thought than earlier). 

Every over time I have visited, the models have been women. Posing demurely, with a bowl of fruit or silks. Arms placed, to partially protect their modesty. I’m used to that. I’m prepared for that. But today … it was a bloke. 

I don’t have a problem with that (Not really). There’s nothing wrong with blokes. And there’s nothing wrong with naked blokes, either. I’m mature enough to handle that. A body is a body. A sketch is a sketch. And I’m an artist first, queer person second. I just … hadn’t expected it. And I don’t like to be caught off guard. So, I’m feeling slightly rattled. I just need to get home, and get back to normality. To safe things - Like a beach scene, or a self-portrait. Familiar things. No more surprises.

And yet, a few steps into my walk back home, I see the guy from the roof leaning against a nearby tree, the same lopsided-grin aimed over at me. I blink, confirming his existence, and then he’s talking. Stood, barely 3 metres in front of me, in the dirt. 

“How was class?” 

He says it like it isn’t the strangest thing in the world that he’s here, with me, where he really has no reason to be. Like it isn’t only just slightly beaten in its absurdity by me, sketching propped-up on a wall outside, rather than inside, the studio. Like we aren’t complete strangers (Because, no matter how much he may be smiling at me, we don’t even know each other's names yet).

‘Yeah, sorry, I kinda’ followed you. I wanted to check out the woods, but I wasn’t sure of the way. So … I just tagged along. Figured you wouldn’t mind. Don’t worry though, I wasn’t watching you the whole time. I was busy with my own stuff.” 

He points to an open suitcase filled to the brim with ... rocks? As if that’s normal. 

“My meteorite bag’s all packed.”

I nod like that explains something, but it really doesn’t. Meteorites? I thought those were in the sky, not on the ground. And what does that even mean? He just carries around pieces of infinity. For what?

I look at him more closely, studying his face for any sign of disingenuity. For any sign that he’s just having me on. But I find nothing. Nothing … bad, anyway. Just a deep dimple accompanying his crooked smile, and miles of tawny skin, speckled with moles. He exists in shades of orange and gold. He’s the sun. And I can’t look away.

“Stare much?” 

I drop my gaze, embarrassed - Staring down at his scuffed Nikes, as my neck prickles with heat. I don’t talk. What am I even supposed to say to that? Yes? 

“Well ... you’re probably just used to it from staring at that bloke for so long. You know … for your drawing.” I look up - Grey meeting blue. He’s eyeing my pad curiously. “He was naked?” He breathes in as he says it, like the words stole his oxygen. It makes my stomach plummet, but I try to keep my face calm. I think about him watching me, watching the movers. How he watched me, watching the model. He must know. And ... I don’t know how I feel about that, just yet. 

He looks down at my pad again. I don’t understand why. Does he want me to show him the drawings of the model bloke? It seems like he does. And some disturbed part of me wants to. But I doubt it. ‘Hey stranger, wanna’ see how I draw dicks?’ said no sane person ever. My stomach twists tight, and I’m out of control - My brain hazy amongst the moment’s tension.

“Look, man,” he sighs, half-smiling as he scrubs at the back of his neck. “I legit’ have no idea how to get home. I tried, but I just ended up back here. I’ve been waiting for you to lead the way. You don’t mind do you?”

I don’t think I mind. Do I? I don’t know. I shake my head, anyway, and point him in the right direction. 

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

It’s a long way home, and we walk the majority of it in silence (Well, near-silence. The bumping of his suitcase creating a constant accompaniment to our steps). I try and resist the urge to look back at him. The urge to ask him all of my ‘Why?’s - Why did you follow me? Why are you still following me? Why are you collecting meteorites? Why were you looking at the stars in daylight? Why were you looking at me in the daylight? It would only make me more muddled. So, rather than relent, I take out my invisible brushes and start to paint behind my eyes. 

And, after a while, I feel myself settling back into my skin. The dancing trees and setting sun relaxing me, in spite of the moment’s unsteadiness. Or ... maybe it was him. He’s an alarmingly relaxed person (I mean, I don’t know anybody else who would just follow a stranger around, with zero self-consciousness), so it wouldn’t surprise me if he had some sort of ‘Realm of Calm’ thing going on around him. 

When we emerge from the woods, returning to our familiar concrete-laden pavements, he spins around and jumps in front of me. Ecstatic. 

“Holy shit! That is like ... the longest I’ve ever gone without talking in my life! I was holding my breath just trying to keep the words in. How do you even do that? Are you always like this?”

He’s a mile a minute, and I’m lagging behind.

“Like what?”

And then he’s laughing at me. I can tell that he’s a person who laughs a lot, from the way he lets it take him over so easily - His whole being lightening up, as the sides of his eyes crinkle, joyfully. But it’s alright, I don’t mind. It’s not a mean laugh. It just makes me feel a little bit fizzy inside (In a good way. I think). 

“Dude! Are you kidding? You do know those are the first words you’ve said all day, right?”

I didn’t, actually. But I don’t tell him that. He’d probably just think that I’m more strange than he, no doubt, already does. 

He’s properly cracking up now (Although, I don’t know what, exactly, I did that was quite so funny). “And then you’re all just like ‘What?’”. </p>

He makes an absolutely atrocious attempt at imitating my accent (Which leaves him sounding like some kind of drunken Prince Charles impersonator), and before I can stop it, I’m laughing outright, alongside him. Both of us hunched-over cackling, wholeheartedly, probably looking more than a little mad. 

Once we’ve calmed down, he starts staring at my pad again. Jesus Christ. I really wish he wouldn’t. I’m not going to show him my sketches. Not even if he begs. I’d never survive the embarrassment.

“So ... lemme’ guess. You do most of your talking in there?” He points down at my pad, and I feel the tips of my ears flood scarlet. 

“Yeah. Something like that.” My voice comes out mumbled and gruff. I didn’t mean for it to. He probably thinks I did it on purpose, though. 

He’s haloed under the streetlights, and I’m trying not to stare. But, it’s hard. His face is celestial - The sunshine of his soul peeking through his features. I want to say more, just so that he doesn’t leave. Our houses are right there but, I feel so ... multicoloured.

“I paint in my head sometimes,” I blurt. Dumb. So unbelievably dumb. “That’s why I was so quiet, I was painting.”

“Oh that’s cool. Saves paper, I suppose. Better for the trees, and that.” Stalling. He’s stalling. I’ve made it weird. I always make it weird. “So ... were you painting anything specific?”

“You.” Oh, fucking hell! I’ve ruined it - I’ve smeared on that last glob of un-erasable acrylic and ruined the painting. I shouldn’t have said it. I didn’t even mean to say it, it just ... popped out. And now he’s stood, gawping, eyes wide and face flushed. I’ve embarrassed him. I’ve gone and dumped all my greedy keenness on him, completely uninvited, and now he’s drowning in it.

Everything feels tight. The air, suddenly too humid to swallow. I’m gasping - Waves of breath crashing, loudly, in my ears. Panic. I’m panicking. I need to - I have to go.

So, for the second time today, I run. Spinning on my heels and darting back towards my house, without as much as a ‘Goodbye”. Away from him. Away from humiliation. Back to my room, where I pull the blinds shut and open up my pad - Briskly skipping over today’s work. A blank page. A fresh start. I really am no good at talking the normal way.

[tartrazeen]

Hank's Arc through HankCon

If the magazines in this game are supposed to be symbolic, then holy shit, does it say something that the first magazine we see in a scene for Hank and Connor is that one for the Eden Club ("Sex with androids is awesome possum, gentlemen"), followed by the second article on 'Is your android spying on you?'

It's a canon fact that androids are hot. That little quip from Ben going, "So, you got yourself an android, huh?" gets us that, "Haha, very funny," line from Hank, which goes noticeably unexplained. There was a great Hankcon theory from igamrgirlzunite explaining this, as well as for that magazine in Hank's room at his own house, and it builds into the famous exchange at the Bridge with Hank asking what Connor really is.

For this magazine though, it's neat to see it symbolize a surface attraction - from Hank to Connor, playing neatly into that does-not-need-explaining-apparently joke from Ben - followed by a deep mistrust for anything Connor says.

This scene can open with Hank feeling neutral because Connor bought him a drink, or pissed that Connor's an asshole. It can also have Hank annoyed at Connor for insisting on coming along because his instructions say to, yet still getting a little boost in their relationship from it. Tying those two articles of the magazine together, we've got a guy who thinks that no matter what Connor's like on the surface, underneath he's a machine designed to fool Hank into being friends (which Hank throws at him in the Machine!Connor path). It's all a ruse to manipulate Hank into lowering his guard, and this first magazine is telling us how Hank feels about that: he ain't havin' it, and it'd be better if Connor just admits that that's what's happening.

If Connor apologizes at the Chicken Feed, Hank comments on it being a brown-nosing program. Later, Hank says Connor's got a goofy voice and weird face. But he's not a guy who's shy about being harsh or blunt ("Well they fucked up" is literally his next line), so for him to pick 'goofy' over 'ugly' or something implies a certain fondness for what he's seeing, coupled with an extreme aversion to being tricked into liking it - so, the canon lets Hank bury it under being a dick.

The magazine at Hank's house later says androids make for better romantic partners (which is what CyberLife specifically intends for the 'other North' - that BL model), but gets followed by the deeper layer/article on androids' active psychology programs.

It's a more elaborate take on the first magazine's symbolism: instead of just being a boytoy, Hank should have a better sense of who Connor in terms of a partner, and would be wondering why in hell Connor takes so much of an interest in him. He's moved on from thinking Connor's spying to learn which details can buy Hank's cooperation, because he's already asked Connor about that at the Chicken Feed. The question isn't *if* Connor was reading up on him - that's assumed. Hank's asking what Connor *thinks* of all of it, what he wants that information for. Just work? Maybe... not all for work?

Even if Connor puts Hank at ease, it only crosses off one of the theories Hank has. This second magazine now has him toying with whether Connor's pitying him for being some broken mess of a man, and planning to go when the mission's done and neatly tying in with Hank's outburst in the bathtub ("You and your fucking mission, that's all you care about").

Worse in Hank's opinion, and *as* a broken mess of a man, he might only be thinking Connor feels pity - or interest - because he can't tell what's sincere and what's just a psychological program any more. That draws on the two conclusions Connor could make to boost their relationship last chapter, but now we see Hank flipping in how he feels about being right: he's much less of a fan, and the personal questions at the Bridge start to *hit* their relationship as those thoughts dig in.

It puts Hank's reaction to the Tracis in better context. Connor shooting them confirms he's a machine accomplishing a mission. Connor sparing them freaks Hank right the fuck out, because holy shit, what if Connor *can* feel and might *actually* like Hank but fuck you, Connor, because if you could really feel, you'd panic when Hank puts a gun in your face, haha Professor Drunk strikes again.

That gun on the Bridge scene is like a precursor to the fucked up Kamski test that's coming. Hank's trying to figure out if all those thoughts he's had and hints he thinks Connor's been laying down are real or from a machine functioning according to plan. That's why it's great that Connor's wink back at the Chicken Feed blends in with Connor getting a report: did Hank really see it, or was he misinterpreting a machine's response to a new message?

When we get to the actual Kamski test offering 'proof' on whether Connor's a machine or not, Hank has backed off on wanting to know for sure. Not knowing leaves room for hope. Hope is safe, and hope comes with plausible deniability. Hope doesn't hurt. Because of Cole, we see how well Hank does with trying to come to grips with a painful reality. When the test is on, he's telling Connor not to do it, but we know he can yank the guy away from there. He doesn't. Because hope is also kinda tempting. The right answer might be waiting - he knows this whole thing is awful, he doesn't want that girl to get shot, but between that test's before and after, we see he's shifted from, "Don't play this stupid game, it doesn't matter, we don't care," to "Don't. Don't shoot. Decide your own fate and show me that you're real."

With how it goes, Hank can either take that as a fucking *rough* confirmation of exactly what he was afraid of (the "I thought you were..." line that trails off) or a pretty hopeful hint that... actually kinda sinks in for once. Hank lowers his guard. It's not a concrete confirmation of anything, obviously, but... it mattered. It's nice.

So that is why, upon meeting the Deviant Leader, Connor choosing to remain a machine is a HARD FUCKING BETRAYAL. Despite everything - despite how careful Hank was, how sure he was, how safe it seemed to try and trust Connor a little - Hank had been right from the start. And there's no coming back from that. Same with being such a dick to Hank that he quits anyway. It's not that Connor's alive but that Hank's alone, and he's too lost in it to care about anything else. He gives in to that darkness.

If instead you make it to CyberLife Tower, you've got the real and final test. It's not about whether Connor's alive or not. Hank knows he is, based on - or even despite of - everything that's happened so far. There's even room to argue that 'alive' isn't that important to Hank, either. He's interested in these androids' freedom, literally and conceptually, so this is about whether Connor freely feels something for Hank. Aliive or not, it doesn't mean it couldn't have all still just been to spy and out of psychological pity.

It's why it matters that Hank's asking questions. Even if you get one right, he just asks another. He knows Connor knows this stuff - does Connor *care*? Was there an inherent, personal interest in learning about things that weren't all just about work? Those personal questions that Hank found so annoying before, back when it could've been manipulation and programming - was that what it was, or was Connor genuinely asking? Was Hank right or wrong?

Connor would've had to put Hank above the revolution to get to this point, refusing to risk him even at the cost of losing these hundreds of thousands of androids they need. It means something. It clicks when Connor puts enough emotion into his 'final answer' for Hank to understand that no matter what it was before, it's real now. It had probably been real for a while.

It's also why 60's parting shot if Hank messes up ("Wrong choice, Lieutenant") cuts deeper in that moment than 60's victory quip when it's Connor choosing wrong ("He really liked you, Lieutenant. That's what killed him"). Both hammer home what Hank has lost, both pin it on Hank himself, but with Connor's memories, 60 can confirm that Hank just failed his own mission: he never learned to trust in what they could've had, and now because of him, they'll never have it.

Unless they do. And then they hug. :)

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Edit: P.S - I lied, yes it fucking does get explained.

More Edit: sweet I found a Tumblr gif of that line