#but these are the ones they consider have shaped them

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

get off the floor, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: You order Jeon Jungkook to get off the floor. He says, "Make me." You make him. Eventually.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; tipsy, bratty (needy) JK; wedding guests reader and JK hooking up in a random corner room bc they can no longer contain themselves, gasp; semi-public smut (fem dom!reader + sub!JK, JK becomes half-undressed while reader is still fully dressed, slight degrading talk (not really), heavy making out, dry humping) basically, I was staring at this photo and had thoughts

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“Get off the floor.”

“Make me.”

Once again. No stranger to this supreme annoyance, and yet knowing that did not make it bearable. You looked down at him. Was he drunk? He stared off to the side. Looked moodier than anything. Trying to play it cool, perhaps. You caught him glancing and you stepped back, smoothing the high slit of your deep purple evening gown.

“That suit costs way too much to be on the ground,” you attempted again, his black blazer over your bare shoulders.

Jeon Jungkook raised an eyebrow at you.

“Don’t care.”

You could feel your patience running thin. Not new, just like all of Jungkook’s antics. You felt his eyes travel up from your legs to your waist to your chest. When he got to your face, you gave him an unimpressed frown. If he hadn’t been drinking, he would have the good sense to look away. But he had, so he just ticked his head as if he wasn’t laying down in the middle of a random offshoot room in a very nice hotel. There was no one around. Time of night and because this wing had been rented for the wedding that was still going on in the main ballroom.

“You’re going to get in trouble,” you warned.

His dark eyes caught the low lights of the art deco sconces on the walls.

“Get on top of me.”

This was precisely why you had considered skipping this wedding. But, alas, common sense pulled through. You had not come with a plus one because you didn’t have one. Jungkook had not arrived with a plus one either even though you were quite sure he could have secured one. He was probably thinking the same of you as well. The look on his face when you strode in and greeted the couple was enough to encourage some of the guests to mysteriously begin herding you and him in close proximity. You couldn’t blame them. Playing matchmaker was bound to happen if a woman attended such a social event alone.

You just didn’t think the lucky man would be Jeon Jungkook.

You narrowed your eyes. His eyes lowered to half-moons. His lips parting. The two silver rings gleamed on the right edge of his lower lip.

“Don’t play this game.”

The tip of his pink tongue flitted against his lip rings.

“I’ve been wanting to play your game for a while now,” Jungkook breathed, his low voice vibrating in his chest.

You could still hear the bass of the music. One step. The heel of your pumps clicked loudly against the tile floor. His black three-piece suit had been perfectly tailored to him. There was no need for additional shape because his body lines were already ideal. His black hair had been carefully slicked back. Nothing to hide behind. Another step. His black vest and crisp white shirt were tight enough to his chest that you could witness the way his breath hitch lifted his upper torso. You looked down, then pointedly back up at his face, reminding him that his tight slacks made everything obvious.

He bit the side of his lip.

With a casual lift of your slinky skirt, you stepped over him, and then re-draped the dark violet fabric over his lower torso. One foot on each side of his hips. He must have expected you to refuse, as you already had many times before. He immediately froze, his startled eyes widening. In your defense, he had previously been more subtle and annoying about it rather than direct. You reached up, maintaining eye contact with Jungkook, and twisted your wrist, hooking two fingers on the collar of his blazer around your shoulders, pulling it away from your body to reveal skin.

You dropped it on the floor, away from your bodies.

The fitted gown had a soft sweetheart neckline with thin straps that framed your collarbones. A simple white gold chain necklace with a tiny round-cut diamond nestled at the base of your neck. The straps crossed over to your exposed lower back. The medium-weight fabric was tailored to skim over your curves. Princess seams accentuated your shape from chest to hips before opening up to wispy high slits that were only obvious when you walked or stood with more weight to one side. Demure if you stood straight, which you mostly did. Wasn’t your wedding after all. Your hair was down, smoothed down at the right, covering enough of your back to uphold the illusion of modesty. Unfortunately, as night approached, you had found yourself quite cold. The air conditioning had been turned high to accommodate for all the dancing bodies.

That wasn’t the trajectory of the night for you, though.

Instead of the dance floor, you and Jeon Jungkook were now somehow in deserted offshoot room with chairs on tables. Probably reserved for additional seating just in case any additional guests tried to squeeze in at the last minute. Certainly not reserved for a raunchy rendezvous.

You lifted an eyebrow.

“Scared?” you taunted, looking down at him.

His wrists were against the floor by his shoulders. You saw his fingers twitch, but he did nothing to move further.

“Ravage me already,” Jungkook exhaled. Hot and heavy and hiding desperation. “I can’t take this.”

You had been well-acquainted with him and a while now. You ran the tip of your pointed heel against his side. Jungkook shuddered. He didn’t move to touch you. You backed off. The real problem with all this was not the friendly terms you both had, but rather the fact that he had caught you in a rather dubious place some nights ago. Neither you nor him should have been there. In fact, you made it a point to travel far enough so you wouldn’t run into anyone, which you presumed was also the exact reason Jungkook ended up in the same place.

You squatted down, tilting your head at him in a predatory way.

The skirt of your dress pooled over his abdomen.

As you came close to Jungkook’s level, you heard his breathing shallow.

You took a short moment to collect your dress accordingly before dropping to one knee. And then the other. Straddling him, but not quite touching. Your fingertips touched the ground. He smelled like faint musky spice. You lowered over him, until your hands were just under his upper arms.

Looked down.

Jungkook stared at you from below, trapped in your shadow.

“You really did see me at the BDSM club that night,” you murmured. “Didn’t you?”

You raised your right hand and closed it around his left wrist, pinning it to the ground. He sucked in a tight breath, the gravity of the situation seemingly sinking in although it didn’t seem like he was rushing to stop you.

“Your ass looked so fucking good,” he whispered in the dark. “I knew it was you.”

You bent your left elbow, descending to his face.

“Someone will find us.”

At your reminder, he bit his lower lip in that fuck-me-harder kind of way. Then you felt movement. His right hand snaked between you and him. Your eyes flickered down. His dress shirt was fastened all the way to his neck. He looked sharp. Conventionally handsome. The only things he couldn’t hide was his facial piercings and the tattoos on his hand. Hand tattoos were a big faux pas to most. You liked a rule-breaker though. Unfortunately. Jungkook’s deft fingers traced the pressed collar of his shirt.

You watched him undo the first pearlescent button.

Then the second.

Your lips parted to warn him to stop, but the third was already coming undone and you could hear the desire in his erratic breath drifting upwards. Then it was eyes-to-eyes, devouring you with false innocence, and you opened your mouth to trace your lips with the tip of your tongue, taunting him with the glistening void.

“Fuck…” he whispered, trembling under you.

And then you stopped his hand by fully pressing your body against his chest, your clothed breasts against his naked pecs. Flitted your tongue over his lip rings, tasting his moan before hearing it. He turned his head, trying to chase it, but you feathered kisses over his cheek, gripping his left wrist as you licked his ear, hearing the whine of your name tickling yours.

“P-Please…”

You avoided him that night at that club, hoping he hadn’t recognized you, causing every subsequent interaction making it painfully clear to you that he had indeed seen you strutting your stuff in black latex while teasing strangers with your leather crop. Surprisingly, not in the way of trying to use such information against you, which was what you expected, but rather in the way the tempted drive the tempters insane. In imploring looks that only you could know. In too many chances of being too close in proximity. You don’t know how he did it, but now for some reason everyone was delicately suggesting to you to, perhaps, give him a chance. It only strengthened your want to teach him a lesson. You savored the rising panic in his voice as you bit the curve of his ear and toyed with him with your tongue. His trapped hand turned and you felt his palm mold to your lower ribs, sliding up. You bit down. He gasped, biting back a moan as his fingertips ghosted the curve of your breasts.

“Ah…. D-Don’t…” Whimper so close to his heart that only you could hear it. “My e-ear is… is sensitive, a-ah…”

You smiled, pressing your lips to his earlobe. His earrings were warming from your breath and saliva.

“Is that why you have so many piercings, huh?”

You made sure he could feel your lips move as you purred filthy nothings.

“What a pain slut you are.”

This time he truly moaned, his hips rising, and then abruptly cut himself off to avoid rising volume.

“D-Don’t…”

You sank down. Pressed against him, and even though the layers you could feel his erection throb, his entire body shivering when your weight dispersed over his lower body. His fingertips traced the dip in between your breasts. Your tongue circled over his ear once more before kissing up to his temple, the fingers of your other hand creeping up the side of his neck, and then you made out with Jeon Jungkook, right there on the floor with his groan vibrating the inside of your throat as you slowly thrusted your tongue into his lips. He did his best to suck and you always pulled away at the last second, using one finger to trace the muscle of his neck down to his collarbones.

You broke the kiss.

His lips were glossy and flushed.

“Please… Don’t stop,” he begged, squeezing your breast. “Don’t stop…”

The inaudible music continued to hum in the background.

You placed two fingers on his chin and pushed his head back, giving you access to his throat. For a brief moment, you considered making your mark, but instead you trailed your tongue down, down, painting possessive saliva onto his warm skin. His body rose. You let go of his wrist to pull open the sides of his shirt, realizing he was undoing his vest at the same time as his chest became fully exposed to the air, his dark nipples hard. You flicked your tongue against them, an involuntary ripple seizing his torso at the heated contact. Licked all over, enjoying the scent and taste of his skin. He silenced a cry as you bit down.

“H-Harder…”

You rose slightly, grazing your tongue against his skin before doing so.

“Be quiet.”

And then you roughly pinched his other nipple.

His arm flew up and he screamed behind clenched jaw, his hips lifting from the floor and his erection colliding with the inside of your thigh. You let out a light hum, sliding up his hard thighs. Your dress was already bunching around your waist. With a sweep of your skirt, your barely-there panties came into view. His attentive eyes immediately went down to the matching skin-toned thong barely covering your pussy, tricking him for just a moment, and then you saw the disappointment flutter into a slight frown.

“Did you expect me to be naked?” you mused.

He tried to cover himself with indifference. “No.” His needy gaze and raging boner gave him away.

You smiled.

And held the front of your skirt out of the way, rocking your hips forward to rub your panties against his clothed cock. Jungkook gasped, staring back at your relaxed expression with wide eyes, unsure where to look. You put a little more force into it, increasing the friction and molding his hardness to the soft dip between your legs, and you saw his eyelids flutter, his dark eyes rolling back, a contained moan escaping his chest.

You talked down to him, because you could tell he liked it.

“You thought I wouldn’t have panties and I would just ride you in a public place with no remorse or shame?”

Tension began to show through his muscles. He had one arm on his forehead and the other against the black-and-white tile floor, using subtle leverage to grind against you. He wasn’t obstructing his vision though, still very obviously staring at your thighs, the dip towards your pussy, watching the hem of your panties press into your skin with each movement.

“I… oh, fuck, I don’t k-know…” He panted, his shadowed eyes roaming back to your face. “Maybe.”

You laid your free hand on the waistband of his slacks, tracing his belt. You watched him hold his breath, his chest tight and oh-so-delectable. Slowly, you hooked your fingers under his belt. Gripped it, and changed the angle of your thrusting so that the head of his cock was rubbing against the radiating heat of your pussy, giving him a better view of your thin panties digging into your slit.

You saw his teeth sink into his lower lip.

“F-Fuck…”

His eyes slid shut and he moaned your name, sensual and deep and far too practiced for it to be a closed secret, his hips pushing back up against you, trying to get more and unable to do so. Frustration. Need. Craving. All bleeding into his expression. Against better judgement, you could feel it too, the irresistible pull of barely enough, the desire to tease turning into wetness between your legs, slowly but surely perfuming the air with your sweet, musky arousal.

Jungkook opened his eyes and stared up at you, imploring softly.

“P-Please…”

His arm lifted from his forehead and his other hand raised, fingertips stroking your thighs while using his shoulder blades for leverage. Forceful and precise. You let go of his belt and traced the knuckles of one of his hands, feeling the restrained strength in his touch. He sank his fingers into your thighs, gasping, pressing the back of his head onto the floor and arching his back. His open shirt. His exposed muscular chest. His tan skin faintly glistening with sweat. His throat begging for a bite.

You raked your nails down his abs, forcing Jungkook to lustfully grown to the ceiling.

You smirked.

“Get up.”

With minimal effort, Jungkook lifted his torso off the ground, frowning at you for asking him to be reasonable. His palms pressed into your thighs, ensuring that you continued to straddle him even though you had no intention of moving. In fact, you drew your knees together, pinning him in between your thighs. A few black strands had dislodged from their places and draped over his furrowed brows.

“Was that so difficult?” you murmured with lowered lashes, walking your nails up his chest.

His hands were sliding up towards your hips under your skirt. “Yeah.” He squeezed your ass with his strong grip while staring into your eyes. “I’ve been wanting to get you out of this dress for hours.”

“Hm.”

You gave him an unimpressed look as you felt his fingertips glide down. He pulled outwards ever-so-slightly. From below, out of sight, your pussy lips parted with a wet sucking sound.

Jungkook moaned against your cheek, pressing his naked chest against your clothed breasts.

“Come on… Please…”

You hand had migrated to his side, steadily scratching his lower back.

“Very reckless and dangerous of you.”

He glanced at you with those half-moon eyes filled with stars of longing.

“Don’t pretend you don’t want me to be,” Jungkook whispered hotly. “Brushing up against me by accident when I already told you that you look too damn hot. Teasing me every time I look down by showing off your legs even more.” His mouth brushed against the side of yours. You could faintly feel his lip rings. “You’re mean.”

You sat on top of his still-hard cock and purred, “I don’t recall doing such things,” before lightly bouncing on top of it.

He gasped and you sucked away his exhale, pulling back before he could kiss you.

“Let me,” he breathed out.

His hands came up to cradle your back as you arched your spine and then you sighed out, his soft kisses fanning over your décolletage, tucking his tongue between your breasts and licking upwards, his eyelids fluttering in bliss from the taste of your perfumed skin.

“Please, let me…”

Your arms around his neck. You had not intended to fuck Jeon Jungkook tonight but, then again, that was easy to think when he hadn’t looked at you with those perfectly desperate eyes yet. Nor had he yet pushed the top of your ass down to collide with his hard dick still fighting his pants, implying just how well you would fit together. Until right now that is. You smiled, leaning back into his warmth.

“At least button your shirt so you don’t startle the hotel staff with your sexy body.”

His ears flushed bright red. You shot him an amused look as he fumbled about.

“And what if there was a camera in here, hm? Recording your depravity,” you mused, appreciating the view.

“I don’t mind,” he mumbled to his chest. His ears remained red.

“I see. But if I compliment you, you become embarrassed.”

Jungkook avoided your gaze. “N-No…”

You hooked a finger under his chin and yanked him back up, confronting those big, dark brown orbs. He looked taken aback, almost afraid of what you would say next.

“I can’t wait to have you under me,” you whispered. “I’ll make you show me how talented you are at begging.”

He moaned into your mouth as you kissed him deeply, pulling him into your possessive embrace.

-

continued in get on the floor, m | jjk

--

drabbles masterpost | masterpost

[cheolaholic]

ring of love; csc (07)

summary; agreeing to join vernon spectate an underground boxing match wasn't how you'd expect to spend your friday night. you also didn't expect to see seungcheol, someone you've lost contact with for years, become a part of the ring.

modern! au • boxer! au • hhu focused • multiple kinds of tropes • fluff, angst, smut

a/n;; im gonna be honest, i had no clue as to how im gonna write chapter 7 so i took a short break. that ended with me diving head first into love and deepspace which now has led me to a new obsession – Sylus. if you saw that post i made abt LNDS a few weeks ago, that has manifested into a side blog @chaeriescola where i’ll be posting my-non kpop related fics (read: Sylus & Zayne brainrot) also, i’m on Patreon now !! if you join my Patreon, you’ll get early access to the fics (a week early before they get posted on tumblr & ao3), exclusive bonus content, sneak peeks of other projects etc. if you’d like these special treats, feel free to join 👀 enough of me yapping, onto the fic~

Seungcheol wasn’t exactly sure what he was expecting when he tasked Mingyu and Vernon to look after you – considering how they both absolutely suck at understanding the whole “look after ___ for me but, don’t let her catch you” concept. He’s seen them tail behind you, possibly raising concerns in some students and staff whether they were stalking you from the moment they spotted you.

coups: can’t you two be more discreet? coups: you both look like you’re the worst stalkers gameboi: ? tallgyu: I think we’re doing a good job alien-non: yea, she hasn’t noticed us gameboi: you really got Mingyu and Hansol to tail after ___? gameboi: no offense to all 3 of you gameboi: but Hansol’s logic is practically gone if Mingyu’s leading tallgyu: HEY alien-non: I suggested we wear disguises but Mingyu didn’t want to! tallgyu: those weirdly shaped sunglasses are way too obvious coups: what you’re doing now is way more obvious! tallgyu: she hasn’t noticed us tallgyu: it’s fine hyung coups: Vernon alien-non: yes coups: you know how aware ___ is of her surroundings coups: she’s probably already spotted you both gameboi: but chose not to say anything

As if on cue, when they both turned a corner, they were both startled to come face-to-face with you, arms crossed, staring right at them.

“You’ve both been following me for the past hours, can I help you?” you ask, eyes narrowing when they both exchange a look.

“Well…” Mingyu started, “We… We just wanted to make sure you didn’t get lost…?”

Vernon mentally facepalms at Mingyu’s response while you scrunch your eyebrows in confusion, “To make sure I wouldn’t get lost…? On a campus I’ve been attending for at least 2 years…?”

“Seungcheol hyung wanted us to look after you,” Vernon confesses, “I don’t know why, but he just told us to keep an eye on you.”

“And, so, you’ve decided to follow me around?”

“Mingyu was the one who suggested it…”

“You both would make terrible secret agents…” Seungcheol mumbled as he came up behind you, wrapping an arm around your waist as he sent glares to the two younger males. “Cheol, I’m a big girl now – I can handle myself!”

“I know, I know,” he admits, “And, I’m sorry, pup-”

“Pup? You call her ‘pup’?” Your ears burned red at Mingyu’s question, forgetting that not everyone grew up with you and Seungcheol or knowing the reason that he calls you that.

“It’s a nickname I gave her while we were growing up,” Seungcheol answers, “And, it stuck with her since.”

“She grew up with you? Oh, you poor thing,” Mingyu faked cries as he pulls you into an embrace, “He must’ve picked on you non-stop.”

“Actually, he didn’t pick on me.” The taller male pulls away, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion at your answer. “He stood for me and may or may not have threatened the people that did pick on me.” He looks at Seungcheol with a look of betrayal, “That’s not fair! Why does she get special treatment while you keep picking on me!?”

Seungcheol pries Mingyu away from you, his arm returning to its position on your waist as he answers, “Because you’re Mingyu, and she’s… she’s ___.”

‘Well… this is… awkward…’ you thought to yourself as you sat in front of Wonwoo, one of the other boys you had briefly met that night. Seungcheol suggested you meet the three of them altogether, mainly Mingyu and Wonwoo since you were already best friends with Vernon, to somewhat break the ice.

‘Choi Seungcheol, you ass, this is anything but breaking the ice! If anything, this is increasing the freezing point of the ice!’

Unfortunately, Seungcheol’s plan of grabbing lunch together is now facing a setback. You had no classes that day, Wonwoo finished his, but Seungcheol, Mingyu and Vernon were being held back for their classes.

“Seungcheol, I’ve only met him once!” you whisper-shouted into your phone, “And, neither of us exchanged a single conversation since!”

“I know, I know,” Seungcheol answers, wracking his head to come up with solutions, “But, this lecturer is talking so slow that I have no choice!”

“What about Vernon and Mingyu?”

A sigh was heard, “Apparently, the model was being fussy about how she should be posing for their portrait. The lecturer needed her to be partially clothed, but since Mingyu was in the class… You can fill in the blanks…”

You let out a sigh, looking into the windows of the cafe as Wonwoo sits at a booth near the pick-up counter, “How much longer until you all are able to get here?”

“Probably an hour… And another 20 minutes to get there. Hey, you and Wonwoo both like drinking coffee and are introverts! Maybe you both can try talking to break the ice.”

Oh, boy, did Seungcheol underestimate the introversion you and Wonwoo possess. You had initially tried to have small talk with him, only to chicken out when he looked at you with that piercing gaze through his glasses. It’s been half an hour since you sat down at the booth with him, your strawberry milkshake sitting on a coaster as he goes to order possibly his third cup of cappuccino.

When he returns with his drink, you can’t help but ask, “Isn’t that… too much caffeine…?”

Wonwoo seemed a bit taken back when you finally opened your mouth to talk, but he recovers quickly and shrugs, “Honestly, after drinking caffeine for years, you kind of grow immune to it. You should’ve seen Mingyu’s reaction when he found me sleeping after downing 5 cans of Monster.”

“Five!?”

“Yes, five.”

“And, you were still able to sleep?”

“Like a baby.”

Wonwoo was surprisingly easy to talk to – you just needed to get over your social anxiety and the very intimidating resting bitch face he has. You’ve come to learn that the man in front of you was GAM3BO1WOO, a famous game streamer on SVTwitch. You’ve seen a few of his stream clips on your feed, but you weren’t exactly a fan of his since his taste in games and yours were vastly different.

“Do you play every new game release?” you asked, scrolling through his MAESTRO account and skimming through his posts.

“It depends, actually. If a new game really catches my eye, then I’ll download it. Other than that, either the companies sponsored me to stream their games, my followers keep requesting that I play the game they think would suit me or want to see me play. Sometimes, Mingyu and Cheol would gift me co-op games since a lot of them have the mechanic of if one player already owns the game, the second player plays for free.”

“Have you ever hopped on trends?”

“It drives traffic and increases my followers, can’t really complain.”

You’re not sure how long you’ve been conversing with Wonwoo. But, it was definitely long enough for neither of you to notice the three men standing right outside the window, watching you two fondly and surprised. “They’re… talking…” Mingyu says in awe, a chuckle from Seungcheol following afterwards, “Nice to know two of our introverts are getting along just fine.”

You noticed them from the corner of your eyes, turning to the window, Wonwoo following to look at them. You smiled, giving them a small wave which they returned while the latter gave a small nod of his head.

“Sorry for keeping the two of you waiting,” Seungcheol apologised the second he got to the booth, taking a seat next to you. Mingyu and Vernon took their seats next to Wonwoo after placing their orders at the counter. “Aren’t you going to get anything?” you asked the older male, looking up at him as you took a sip from your milkshake.

“I’m assuming you’re waiting for me so you can order some kind of snack which we either share or I finish the remaining you can’t.” When you don’t answer and avert his gaze, Seungcheol knows he caught you red-handed. He chuckles as he gets out of the booth and towards the counter, which unfortunately for you, leads to an interrogation by the other three boys – technically, it was mainly Mingyu with the occasional questioning from Vernon. Wonwoo just sits quietly, listening in as his eyes would dart between you, your two ‘interrogators’ and Seungcheol who was still lining up.

The two men asked you the questions you’d expect.

“How old were you when you met Seungcheol hyung?”

“I think… I think I was 5? He should be about 7 or 8?”

“What did he look like back then? Did he look like a nerd?”

“Well, he had the signature bowl kid every boy got when they were kids or teens.”

“Was he scary?”

“Kind of? Not a lot of people messed with me because of how protective he was over me.”

“Mess with little red riding hood, the big bad wolf will come and get you.”

All attention was on Seungcheol as he placed a plate of strawberry cake and a plate of a dozen brownies on the table, returning to his seat right next to you. Noticing the stunned expressions from his peers, he shrugs, “That was what they’d always say to anyone trying to approach her with ill intentions. It’s basically their way of saying ‘if you don’t want trouble, don’t go looking for trouble’.”

An easier way to put it was – if you don’t want to deal with an angry Seungcheol, don’t bother his girl. Your heart still flutters at how some people referred to you as ‘his girl’, but you knew that actually being his girl was nothing more than a dream to you. “By the way hyung, when’s your next fight? Maybe ___ could come and help out, y’know?” Vernon asks, reaching out to grab a brownie only for his hand to be lightly slapped by Seungcheol. “Ow! What was that for!?”

“If you want them, go get them yourselves,” the older male answers, pushing the plate of brownies towards you. “These are for ___. If you want one, go get one yourself.” Your face heats up at the gesture, and heats up further when the three males turn to you. “Why does she get special treatment?” Mingyu whines, “And how can she possibly finish that entire plate?”

Seungcheol pats your head as he answers, “Because she’s ___. And, yes, she can. If she can’t, I’ll finish it.”

“Can we have a piece if you’re the one finishing it up?”

“No, get your own.”

“Ah, hyung!”

You’ve managed to bond with Wonwoo and Mingyu, becoming close with them in a matter of days and now, you’ve got four ‘bodyguards’ walking around with you (Mingyu refers to them as that, the others and you just play along). The downside that comes with the friendship would be a flock of envious fangirls (and occasionally fanboys) who had begun to buzz around you like moths attracted to light.

“How did you become friends with Wonwoo? Could you ask him to shout me out on his streams or MAESTRO account?”

“Is Mingyu single? Could you introduce me to him?”

“Would you like to be friends? I’d love to be friends with the boys!”

Both boys could see you were tired of the clout chasers, especially Wonwoo since he knows you value your personal space. Both men had taken the issue to their social media, expressing how they’d appreciate it if their ‘fans’ stopped bugging their friends and loved ones in an attempt to get close with them. You remembered when both of them addressed the issue on Wonwoo’s stream, the sternness in both their voices still sent shivers down your spine.

“We understand that you may think you know us as we both are content creators and certain information has been released about us online. While we may not be able to put an end to the parasocial relationship that you have built with us, we do not know you and you do not know us. Do not harass our friends and loved ones, and if your unhealthy obsession of us persists, please seek help.”

That was enough for a majority of the fanboys/fangirls to back off. Some still linger, but they were no longer up close and in your face bombarding you with questions or requests.

Currently, Wonwoo, Mingyu and Vernon sat in a discussion room within the library as they waited for Seungcheol and you. It was a small meet-up, but it could also be treated as a short co-working/co-studying meet-up. Your class was ending later than usual and Seungcheol offered to wait for you so both of you could walk to the library.

Beauty and the Beasts

mingoo: @princess how much longer is the lecture gonna take?

princess: erm… another 15 mins?

princess: …

princess: who set my nickname as princess in the gc?

All four boys replied altogether and you playfully rolled your eyes.

mingoo: coups hyung

vernonnie: cheol hyung

nonu: seungcheol

cheol: i did

cheol: i got you your coffee order btw

mingoo: what about us?

cheol: you lot already got your orders before you headed to the library

mingoo: i’m assuming you got her snacks too

cheol: yes

cheol: and they’re only for ___

cheol: so don’t try to steal them

Mingyu lets out a groan as he lays his upper body on the table. “It’s not fair,” he whines, “Why does Seungcheol hyung give ___ special treatment? Is it because she’s a girl?” Vernon shrugs, “Maybe? But, he’s treated his exes the same way, too.”

“Yeah, I know that, Vernon. But, isn’t there something different?”

Mingyu sits up as he looks at Vernon, his words seeming to be hinting at something as the younger male sits in silence. “It’s like he’s more attentive, more caring. Like, he was caring before to the other girls, but there’s this extra layer to it, y’know?”

“He means there’s more than meets the eye,” Wonwoo says, “I think what Mingyu’s trying to say is that Seungcheol is whipped for ___.”

“Yes!” Mingyu exclaims, pointing at Wonwoo with a puppy-like grin on his face, “But, also no? I don’t know! They grew up together so maybe it’s like a habit he has or a sense of responsibility he feels?”

“But, who would want to call their childhood best friend who is now an adult ‘pup’?” Vernon questions, and Wonwoo tips his pencil in the younger male’s direction, “Precisely. Everyone would grow out of it, much less a nickname like that. Hell, would you call any of your friends that kind of name as an adult?”

Mingyu hums in understanding. All three of them knew just how shameless Seungcheol could be sometimes. Vernon bites back a gag when he recalls accidentally witnessing Seungcheol and his then girlfriend making out in his car, in the campus’ parking lot - in broad daylight. He pitied his therapist who had to listen to him ramble on and on about suspecting the older male having an exhibitionist kink.

“So, you really think he’s whipped for her?”

“Seungcheol barely remembers your favourite cake, but he remembers ___’s coffee order.”

“He probably has it written down somewhere?”

“I beg to differ,” Vernon speaks up.

He joined Seungcheol to get coffee a few weeks ago. While Seungcheol was ordering his, you had texted Vernon saying your Business Module class had completely drained you and you were in need of a quick pick me up. All he did was say, “___ wants us to help get her coffee,” and Seungcheol began reciting your order to the barista without a second thought.

“He knew it like the back of his hand! Not a single thing was missed out!”

As Mingyu and Vernon continue to discuss Seungcheol's love life, Wonwoo glances down at his phone as it vibrates, a notification from you. Opening up the text app on his laptop, he types out his reply.

___: hey woo?

___: is it ok if i call you that-

wonwoo: yes?

wonwoo: n yes, perfectly fine

___: ok

___: um, so the class im in rn, we’re almost done btw!

___: they need me to write some kind of paper abt how psychology n business work

___: n since you’re a psych major

wonwoo: you need my help, yes?

___: bingo

___: is it possible for you to help me?

wonwoo: sure thing

wonwoo: why don’t you go over the details with me once you’re out of class?

wonwoo: we’ve booked the discussion room for the entire day

___: don’t the others have class?

Wonwoo can feel Mingyu and Vernon standing behind him as they “observe” his conversation with you. “Oooh, you’re texting his girl~” Mingyu teases, earning a glare from the older male that shuts him up immediately. “She needs help with her coursework and I have relevant information that can help her,” he replies as he resumes to type out his reply.

wonwoo: seungcheol only has one class today iirc

wonwoo: gyu and vernon have some kind of workshop in an hour

___: oh, cool!

___: then i can also get cheollie’s opinion

“Do you think they have a thing for each other?” Vernon asks, seemingly picking up on certain signs just from the text Wonwoo had just exchanged with you.

“Who? Seungcheol hyung and ___?” Mingyu asks back and he nods. The taller male thinks for a while, recalling the times that he’s seen any form of interaction or exchanged conversation the pair have shared. “Maybe? But, there weren’t any obvious signs that explicitly showed that Seungcheol or ___ like the other.”

“Well, there is a saying that love is in plain sight. Or that whole “you were hiding in plain sight” trend that was going around CIRCLES a few months ago.”

“Should we play cupid?”

“I think it’d be best if we don’t interfere with their love life.”

Wonwoo had a point. While their curiosity was gnawing away, the last thing they’d wanna do is accidentally driving a wedge between you and Seungcheol. It would be worse if they were reading the room wrong and neither of you were harbouring any feelings for the other. “But, that doesn’t mean we can’t find some clues to answer our hypothesis.”

Mingyu and Vernon looked at the older male who was still typing on his laptop. “Are we conducting experiments on them now?”

“I wouldn’t put it that way. I’d say it’s more of observing their interactions with each other.”

“We’ll leave the psychology part to the psych major.”

“If this ends up being your thesis paper, Woo, we’d better be given credits.”

Later that night…

gyu created the group Operation Cupid 💘

taglist (unable to tag a few ㅠㅠ)

@yoonclip @1004luvangel @catjunhui @mystikha @spk93 @tinkerbell460 @yoozuku @dnylwooo @christinewithluv @limbomoon @plutoxxxworld @i-give-up-1234 @m1ngyuc0re @yunloyal @leclercloverbot @bettybeako @billboard-singer @ocyeanicc @krupyadoorrahe @seobinnieshi @xcynthiaaa @k411z @disneyprincesshuri @sunnyapp @khxsh @staygenezy @loufi8iepuff @ursweetner @noisypapergalaxy @wonwootakemyheart @sugainpinksweater @leah-rose03 @thisisnothelastofus @yearnoclock @kwonhoeshi @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @ru-lin @deobiforever @belladaises @cheoliekkuma @duskunt1ldawn @hyneyedfiz @marshmallowshouse @ak6ko @chwevernonlover @jejuboo-s @tsukinluv @atinytinaa @gyros-cum-sock @soupbinlily @jungwoos-luvr @ener-energy @watermelon-sugars-things @cyberpunkhwx @ddaengpotate @nightwingsrobbinhoods @chaerrylov3r @joshuaahong @wonussmile @uliceeeeeeee @wonwoo24 @shinetogether17 @simplejihoon @luvkpopp @shingbangyes @black-swan-blog27 @minhui896

[lilacs-stash]

@norazingrid I do dare to disagree /lh (my first fandom was mlp I have one million opinions on this)

Earth: Knife's character is very tied to physical strength, which fits earth pony magic. Same thing with Baseball, Blueberry, and Trophy. Apple is an apple. Applejack. Yes. Box Nickel Pickle Pepper and Dough it just feels right for.

Pegasus: Marsh has defied gravity in S1. Fan and Paper blow away in the wind. Toilet can fly. And OJ I like to draw with little juice wings. And Suitcase is the same character as Fluttershy 👍 /j

Unicorn: Mic would have sound based magic she'd have a hard time controlling. Lightbulb would have light based magic. TK's spout is horn shaped. You could give Tissues a broken horn. Bomb would have explosive magic and potential a broken horn as well. The Cherries stem is kinda horn shaped. Test tube and Cobs need magic to properly build their machinery

Hippogriff/Seapony: Balloon is both very bird and fish, Lifering is just a fish.

Batpony: Bow's triangles look like wings but also she was reintroduced in a Halloween special

Magic alicorn: For those who don't know this is what I consider Sunny Starscout and Sunset Shimmer. Basically you aren't physically an alicorn but have the magic of one. Candle's body is a unicorn, Silver's an earth pony, and Clover's a Pegasus.

Changeling hybrid: He could have the holes in his legs. Like cheese

Chageling: Bot's whole arc has to do with being in a body that isn't theirs and have bug theming, so changeling is perfect. Goo is a bug to me and just doesn't fit anything else. Taco is mostly here because of the invisibow and her hiding her arms.

Alicorn: I don't think I need to explain these ones Tbh

Kirin: They catch on fire when mad, so does Painty

Draconequus: Yang causes chaos it's one of his favorite activities. Also nothing else fits

Crystal Unicorn: only using the HC of them having crystal horns, so Salt would have a salt crystal for one

Yak: It just fits for Tyler. Potentially you could also make him a dragon

[tarithenurse]

Pirate's Bounty II

Fandom: MCU AU

Pairing/starring: 1st mate!Bucky x Pirate princess!reader

Word count: 1128

Content: Smut

A/N: Woopsie! Wrote a part 2. Hope you’re okay with that.

Pirate’s Bounty II

Sharing a room at the inn, the Pirate’s Cove, was Bucky’s idea of safety. Falling asleep fully dressed after the ball was not planned but she has slept wonderfully albeit rather brief.

Waking up, [Y/N]’s vaguely aware of the soft light coming through the curtains from the courtyard beyond. What’s more pressing, however, is the weight over her waist that holds her warm and snug against a hard shape behind her. Glancing around, she’s soon verified that it’s Bucky who has scooped her into his arm and drifted off on the comfortable bed before she woke.

Lying as still as she can, the captain considers disentangling herself but...it actually feels lovely. Safe. So instead she remains where she is, fingertips slowly caressing his knuckles until the light of dawn starts to fill the room and he wakes from his rest too.

Yawning. Stretching against her form. She can feel his muscles flex and his hip push against her behind, causing her to remember that night on the deck.

“Good morning,” the young woman whispers.

“Morning.” He pulls her closer, then freezes at the realization. But: “Shit, I fell asleep!”

She twists to look at him. “That’s what you take from this?”

He doesn’t bother to look sheepish even as he maintains his grip. “Figured I’d feel if you tried to sneak away.”

There’s a certain logic to it, of course, as offensive as it may be to be called out on something she very well might have done just months ago. But now no longer.

“I know I can’t do that,” she admits, turning her head away.

“You’ll get your freedom back some day,” he offers surprisingly kind.

She sighs. “And until then you’ll watch my back.”

“Please!” he grins mischievously, “I’ll watch all of you.”

“Bucky!” But she can’t help laughing softly.

He bends down, finding her mouth with his lips even as he mumbles a “pardon me, m’lady” against her.

She’s soft and pliable, greedily taking what he offers even as his large hand begins to roam, slipping under the soft top to explore the swell of her breasts before sliding along her hip and slowly but surely hoisting up the skirt.

“Get rid of this,” he growls, giving up on the many thin layers that keep sliding back.

[Y/N] gets to her feet, suddenly insecure but also driven by a need she’s only felt a few times now. Slipping the skirt down, she steps out of it as it pools on the floor, leaving her in naught but the top and her undies and that top is the next to go, slowly lifted over her head to bare her form to a hungry looking 1st mate. She’s about to get back into the bed when he shakes his head.

“All of it,” he demands.

Stepping back, she slides the little bit of modesty she has left down her legs, revealing all of her.

“And now?” she asks, voice whispier than she wants.

Getting over to her, Bucky allows his hands to brush down her arms before skimming up her sides to cup her breasts once more.

“Those bastards have no idea what they’re missing out on,” he growls, referring to her suitors

“Please don’t make me think of them now,” [Y/N] pleads.

He grins cockily. “Oh, I’ll take your mind off things.”

Next thing she knows, she’s been more or less tossed onto the bed, automatically spreading her legs to cradle Bucky between them even as he holds himself off of her.

This time the kiss is hungry. Searing. All teeth and tongue, little bites that wander down her jaw and onto her neck while her fingers tangle in his hair. She gasps when he takes a nipple in his mouth, suckling gently but hard enough to sting just a little and she knows she’s done for as the pressure within her increases, begging for more. Like a knot wanting to be cut.

But for one as brusque and direct, Bucky takes his time teasing and winding her up until she’s a whining mess, begging for more although his mouth and hands have been everywhere.

“More?” he double checks, looking up from where he’s kneeling between her legs, lips glistening from her juices. “Are you certain?”

She whimpers. “Yes. More. There must be more.”

About ready to cry when he steps out of the bed, the young woman is quickly silenced as she sees him untie his trousers revealing something she’s only seen once in real life and that in a different state. Now his cock stands erect, proud. Bobbing slightly at the newfound freedom but mostly scaring her with the sheer size.

“Come here,” he steps closer, reaching for her hand.

With him, she touches his erection for the first time, feeling how silken the skin is despite the hardness of the member. She explores, learning how it pulses when she touches beneath the head that’s a dark purple and slowly it becomes less scary.

Making her scoot over, Bucky lies down and guides his lover on top of him, slowly showing her how to pump the cock between her hands until she finds a rhythm that makes his eyes fall shut and the large man groan in pleasure.

“Fuck yeah...”

But he doesn’t allow her to continue, instead repositioning her with the tip of the cock nestled in between her legs right at the entrance to her cunt.

“Take it slow,” he guides her, “a bit at a time.”

Her heart is hammering in her chest as she slowly sinks onto him, spearing herself on the blunt tip. The stretch burns but it’s delicious too and each inch earns her growled praises from Bucky. Rocking back and forth, she eventually can’t take any more, she feels, and when she looks down, she finds that she’s fully seated on his cock. So full.

“Yeah?” he asks her.

“Fuck,” she sighs, gently gyrating the hips to really feel him in her heat.

Large hands find her hips, help her find a rhythm again. Slow and steady up and down until her thighs are burning and her body tenses and she can’t breathe or see but only arch her back in ecstasy.

“So fucking beautiful,” she vaguely hears him growl.

Then her world spins and she finds her beneath him, legs wrapped around his hips that move with a new purpose, bringing her high once more at the same time as he stutters in the movements and growls into her neck something guttural. Something primal.

Bucky manages not to collapse onto the considerably smaller female, instead rolling them so she rests on top. There, they just lie, catching their breaths.

“That was...” [Y/N] tries to articulate, “that was...amazing.”

“Fuck yeah it was,” the 1st mate agrees.

[py-dreamer]

Yea!!! Can you tell I have favorites lol

so since it's the 20th in my time, it is officially my birthday today!

But I wanted to get this out regardless so kinda count it as the previous day's ig

I will be posting something later today probably but it will most likely just be a compilation of all the cakes I've done thus far.

Ok but um on with the cake!

It's like a cheesecake and I basically copied Tengen's cake with like a jelly filling with fruit suspended in it, peaches (obviously), strawberries and blueberries cause I like them and sod it I'll put them on this goddamn cake!

The thing Wukong's sitting on is one of those peach ice creams that's gotten so popular lately with the sprinkle of pink dust thingy on top.

On either side of the cake is the fillet from the journey and the hat from the brotherhood era, one from his reckless past and one from his redemption and I just think that's neat.

The blue puffy stuff is meant to be his nimbus clouds represented as cotton candy.

I have the baiju jar in there as reference to Wukong becoming immortal again due to the all the wine made from the peaches of immortality at the festival.

The staff as a little candle was so fun! And I like pocky so I chucked them on there to fill space and it looks good so sue me

The grey thing behind the staff and balloon is meant to be the Buddha's hand that trapped him under the mountain and a reference to his imprisonment under 5 phases mountain.

Peach popsicle! Of course I had too! A lil something from the present for our (shadow) peachy friend

Mk's stone as well, had to add his son in there too. The baby ever.

(probably just a cookie but it's the thought that counts)

The two sugar cookies are meant to be his logo (aka the lmk logo) and fireworks, again taken from Tengen's cake.

The sun is a candied/tanghulu esque orange thing. Like an orange slice coated in yellow melted sugar shaped like a sun and the phoenix feather cap since I consider it iconic enough to put in here. I didn't want to put it on him, blocking a lot of the decorations so I just hung it to the side and I think I'm happy with that.

A lot more monkeys here! It was very fun popping them in! I know I only gave Mac 1 but I mean Wukong's the monkey king for a reason. Let him be a loving grandpa and invite his subjects on the cake with him. He granted them immortality by ripping their names out the book of dead, let them have a place on the cake too

Also, yes that is the origami pilgims in the bottom left, I couldn't leave them alone could I?

Now the elephant in the room (or at least in my head), yes I did use @maplesleep's matcha pancake design for flower fruit mountain.

Cake on cake. Bit much but hey, I like cake and pastries better than candy normally so win for me.

And I couldn't just make cake about Sun Wukong without mentioning his home/origins of ffm. I do genuinely love the inginuity and adorableness factor of the pancake design and hope they don't mind me slapping it on my...cheesecake? Jelly cake? Jelly-cheesecake?

(also I have to ask @maplesleep, did you watch the 3rd emirichu anime cafe video, specifically the urusei yatsura cafe as inspiration for the 'sun wukong's strawberry sponge cake punishment' parfait thingy, gorgeously drawn btw I used those drawings as inspiration quite a bit for these cakes, or saw the urusei yatsura collab anime cafe

cause I couldn't help but notice the similarities between that and the 'shinobu's maiden strength parfait' cause if you didn't that be a pretty funny coincidence lol)

So what do you think? You think I could make it as another lmk food chef for lego? Can I join the club lmao?

I do realize in retrospect the disrespect I did Mk by making his cake so plain by comparison to his mentor's. But I think that's a testament to my improvement and attention to detail when making these cakes as the days have progressed!

I consider Mk's in particular to be the most lacking and I lowkey feel so bad for my boi for not giving him the main character status he deserves.

I might draw him again, idk. Not anytime soon though, like I said, I'm quite busy now more than before and I need a break, still glad I could serve y'all another slice of cake though!

[vindicated-truth]

Hyeok downs the drink in one abrupt toss of his head. He slams the glass down harshly, rattling the counter and startling the bartender minding his own business at the other side of the bar.

Beside him, Jeongje glowers at him. “You really must be a favored patron at this bar if you’re not scared of destroying their property like this.” Jeongje frowns at the glass that somehow manages to not shatter at the way Hyeok is gripping it tightly. “Or get kicked out.”

Hyeok ignores him and grabs the expensive whiskey bottle he had just purchased without thinking it through, just for this moment. He refills Jeongje’s glass—technically he is the maknae between them—and as Jeongje warily sips at his own drink, Hyeok runs his hands over his face at the hysterical realization that he’s sharing a moment like this with Park Jeongje, of all people.

His rival to Lee Yuyeon’s heart.

Beside him, Jeongje is watching the amber liquid swirl around the fancy ball-shaped ice, his gaze darting nervously between his own glass and at Hyeok, like a skittish weasel.

It’s beginning to grate on Hyeok’s nerves, and he pours another shot for himself.

Jeongje loudly clears his throat. “So. Do we agree not to tell Yuyeon-ah about this?”

Hyeok squeezes his eyes shut. And there is the crux of the matter, isn’t it.

“Tell me what?”

Both men jump at that familiar, beloved voice. It’s almost comical, the way they both swivel in unison on their seats to see the mutual object of their affections standing behind them, one hand on her hip, staring at them with an arched, perfectly-plucked eyebrow.

The top law graduate of Seoul National University, a force to be reckoned with at Hyeok’s law firm, the ex-girlfriend Jeongje is trying very hard to win back at the same time that Hyeok is trying to win her over—while trying win over her, as they’re currently going head to head in this corporate case where he represents the prosecution, and she represents the defendant.

None of that, however, is what’s making both Jeongje and himself a lot more terrified of her than usual.

Yuyeon narrows her eyes at them as she sets her briefcase on the counter and gracefully slides on the seat beside Hyeok. Normally Hyeok would be thrilled to have her in such close proximity, and would gloat over the way she has chosen his side of the seat to settle on instead of Jeongje’s, but right now, he wishes very much that Jeongje’s the one who’s going to have to deal with—all of this.

After all, Jeongje should have more experience dealing with—all of that.

Yuyeon motions to the bartender. “I’ll have a glass please,” she says sweetly, and Hyeok can see the bartender absolutely melting at the twin powers of her angelic beauty and her formidable presence. “I’ll share in whatever they’re having.” She tilts her head at the bottle of whiskey Hyeok and Jeongje are sharing between them.

She smiles and thanks the bartender for the chilled and iced glass she’s been given. She then turns to Hyeok. “Well?”

Jeongje nudges Hyeok meaningfully. Hyeok swallows and fills Yuyeon’s glass, hoping she doesn’t see how much his hands are shaking.

“Something’s up with the two of you,” Yuyeon declares without preamble as she sips and peers at them over the rim of her glass, and damn it why does this woman whom Hyeok helplessly loves beyond measure have to be so god damned smart?

Jeongje’s forced laugh sounds fake even to Hyeok’s own ears, and it makes him cringe. “Come on, Yuyeon-ah, what makes you say that?”

“Well,” Yuyeon sets her glass down on the counter—gently, primly, completely opposed to how Hyeok nearly broke the countertop earlier. “For one thing, right now the two of you are together.”

Jeongje frowns and straightens in his seat. “How is that supposed to be an issue?”

Yuyeon snorts. “Considering how the two of you constantly try to one-up each other to even tolerate being even in the same room together, let alone sharing a drink like this—” she stares pointedly at the twin glasses they’ve both been nursing for awhile now, “—is enough evidence for suspicion, Your Honor,” she adds playfully, winking at them.

Jeongje, the traitor, looks absolutely charmed, and Hyeok takes advantage of Jeongje’s distraction for his own opening. “Captain Park and I have come to an agreement, you see.”

Jeongje blinks. “We have?”

Hyeok turns to glare at him. “Yes. We have.”

“I see,” Yuyeon says dubiously as she crosses her legs, distracting both men momentarily with the smoothness of her skin peeking from beneath her pencil skirt. “And what agreement might that be?”

“Yes, Prosecutor Kwon,” Jeongje props his chin on his palm and smiles innocently at Hyeok. “What agreement are you talking about?”

Hyeok is sorely tempted to bash the whole bottle of whiskey over the head of this stupid ex of Yuyeon’s. Instead, he pastes on his courtroom-ready smile. “Captain Park and I have agreed to desist this frankly immature rivalry between us.”

Yuyeon’s eyebrows fly to her hairline at the same time that the smile completely drops from Jeongje’s face. “And why exactly,” Jeongje says slowly, his eyes narrowed at Hyeok, “have we come to this agreement?”

Hyeok turns to Yuyeon and clasps his hands in front of him on the countertop. “I believe it was that college girl, Kang Minjeong-ssi, who called both Captain Park and I, and may I quote: ‘A pair of juvenile schoolboys fighting each other over a girl as a stupid trophy’.”

“Because she’s right,” Yuyeon says wryly. “You are. And I’m not.”

“No, Yuyeon-ah,” Hyeok hears Jeongje speak up softly from behind him, and Hyeok knows without a doubt that Jeongje sincerely means it. “You’re not a prize to be won.”

It seems to have startled Yuyeon, her gaze softening in return, and while normally Hyeok would be bitterly seething with jealousy by now at the irreplaceable and unbeatable history between Yuyeon and Jeongje, at the moment Hyeok is inwardly, triumphantly celebrating at how Yuyeon is successfully distracted.

Jeongje seems to have finally caught on too, as he is quick to add, “So that is why Prosecutor Kwon and I have decided to just let you graciously decide who is the better man between both of us.”

Hyeok is about to nod in agreement, when Jeongje just has to purr: “I trust you know who is the more worthy man for you, Yuyeon-ah.”

Hyeok slowly turns to look at Jeongje. I am this close to punching you in the face, he strongly broadcasts his thoughts telepathically.

Jeongje’s smile is radiant. I’d like to see you try to punch a cop, is the telepathic answer.

Yuyeon’s loud gasp pierces through Hyeok’s burgeoning violent thoughts. Both he and Jeongje turn to face her—and they both blink at the way both of Yuyeon’s hands are clasped over her mouth, which has dropped open in shock.

“Oh,” she says like it’s some sort of epiphany, leaving both men entirely nonplussed. “Oh I should have known the two of you seem to hate each other just a little too much.”

Sometimes Hyeok is so starkly reminded of how so far ahead Yuyeon’s brilliant mind works when he can’t catch up to her thoughts like this. It’s both extremely frustrating and wildly attractive in the courtroom. “What?”

Yuyeon smooths her hands over her skirt—and wow okay that is very distracting to Hyeok—as she straightens, her features seemingly overcome with a strange sort of… determination?

“I want you both to know that I will never let this affect your careers,” Yuyeon declares firmly. “Both of you are admirable, respectable men in each of your field of work and I will do my best to protect that.”

Hyeok stares blankly at her. He may not be a bonafide genius like Lee Yuyeon, but he has never considered himself lacking in the brains department either, and normally at this point he’s caught up to her by now. It’s what makes their courtroom banter so enjoyable.

This time, Hyeok is completely, utterly lost.

“What the hell are you talking about, Yuyeon-ah?” Jeongje bursts out from behind him, and for the umpteenth time in this topsy-turvy day, Hyeok finds himself agreeing with Captain Park.

There’s a flash of seemingly well-meaning but confusing sympathy that crosses Yuyeon’s eyes. “I know the laws of our country are still adamantly conservative, but we’re slowly making progress, little by little.” She brightens, her tone turning eager. “Just last month, the South Korean Supreme Court affirmed that same-sex couples are entitled to the same health benefits as heterosexual couples.’

Hyeok stares at her in horror. He can’t even speak.

“Oh my god,” Jeongje breathes out entirely in English, and once again, Hyeok absolutely concurs.

“You can register each other as dependents on your respective health insurances,” Yuyeon is saying, completely misreading the twin looks of shock and utter disgust both Hyeok and Jeongje are sending her way. “I’m pretty sure it’ll be covered by our firm, Hyeok-ah, I’m just not sure with the police force how it works—”

“Yuyeon-ah—” Jeongje helplessly tries to interject.

“—but our country’s actual law enforcement agency can’t deny basic rights to its own citizens, let alone its own policemen—”

Hyeok’s voice is increasingly turning high-pitched in desperation. “Attorney Lee—noona—”

“—regardless, you have my word that I fully support you in your—”

“We’re not the ones who are gay!”

That finally stops Yuyeon in her tracks. Hyeok’s and Jeongje’s twin outbursts finally catch her full attention—as well as those of the few remaining patrons in the bar.

Hyeok scowls at the bartender, who looks way too invested in their conversation. “I’ll pay you an extra huge tip for you to shut the hell up.”

The bartender grins, gives them a thumbs up, and turns his attention back to the same wine glass he’s been cleaning for several minutes now—right when Yuyeon first arrived.

Hyeok glares. “I will also require you to sign an NDA.”

The bartender shrugs and finally walks away—but not too far that he isn’t within earshot.

There’s a loud thunk beside Hyeok, which is the sound of Jeongje’s forehead hitting the counter. “I hate you all,” Jeongje mumbles under his breath, and right now, Hyeok is inclined to agree with him on everything.

Instead of being deterred however, true to her reputation as the woman who can’t be moved in court, Yuyeon is swift to recalibrate. “Then who is?”

Jeongje blearily lifts his head to stare balefully at Yuyeon. “What?”

Yuyeon narrows her eyes. “If the two of you aren’t the ones in a gay relationship—”

“Oh for the love of—Captain Park and I are not dating!” Hyeok yells; he catches the bartender snorting before the man wisely turns his back on them, and god damn that NDA needs to be airtight.

“—then who is?”

For several heartbeats, there is only silence as Yuyeon stares back and forth between Hyeok and Jeongje, silently demanding answers. Hyeok opens his mouth.

“His brother.”

Hyeok’s gaze snaps to Jeongje in utter betrayal as the older man simply points back at him.

Yuyeon’s brows furrow. “You have a brother?”

Hyeok turns helplessly back to Yuyeon, who is now frowning at him with her own expression of mild betrayal. “I didn’t know you had a brother, Hyeok-ah.”

“I don’t!” Hyeok instinctively exclaims, before he’s forced to reconsider his next words carefully when Yuyeon merely folds her arms, wordlessly calling him out on his bullshit. It’s partly why he loves her, after all—she never lets him get away with anything. “I mean, he’s not related to me by blood, but he was my ward for so long when I lived in his house that he might as well have been raised by me.”

Yuyeon tilts her head thoughtfully. “Why were you living in his house?”

“I was his tutor. It’s how I got myself through law school.”

Yuyeon raises her eyebrows. “Tutoring pays that well?”

“It does when it’s for the son of the Deputy Commissioner-General,” Jeongje pipes up, helpfully adding the important detail that Hyeok had been trying very hard to avoid disclosing to Yuyeon.

Hyeok is now reminded all over again of why he absolutely hates Captain Park.

“The son of—” Yuyeon’s eyes are wide. “You mean that brat from Foreign Affairs? Han fucking Joowon?”

Hyeok’s mouth drops open in shock. “You know him?” he says in unison once again with Jeongje, and they turn to each other in alarm.

“Know him?” Yuyeon nearly screeches as she slams her palm on the countertop, making both men jump in their seats; neither of them has ever seen Yuyeon this worked up before. “I’m this close to filing a restraining order on him with how often he barges into my office unannounced! I don’t care if he’s the son of the Deputy Commissioner-General, this is abuse of power!”

Jeongje’s eyes narrow dangerously. “Is he harassing you, Yuyeon-ah?”

Yuyeon rolls her eyes at the unwarranted machismo. “Yes, but not in the way you think. This cheeky little prince keeps demanding for the case files I worked on a few months ago, about the Chinese illegal immigrants working as prostitutes in Gangwon and Busan. Said it was for a voice phishing case Foreign Affairs are investigating, but I know for a fact that this sting operation of his isn’t approved by his higher ups.” Yuyeon flips her hair over her shoulder with a frustrated exhale. “Who does he think he is cutting through all protocol and procedure and expecting people to just hand over his demands like he’s entitled to them?” 

“Ah," Hyeok mumbles meekly, "that does sound exactly like my Joowon-ah." He cowers when Yuyeon throws him a withering glare.

“So this pseudo-brother of yours is gay,” Yuyeon recaps once she’s somewhat calmed down. Of course she hasn’t forgotten the topic—once Yuyeon latches on a piece of information, she doesn’t stop until she finds the answer she’s looking for.

Hyeok wonders if Yuyeon is aware that she has more in common with Joowon than she thinks, but then swiftly realizes she might cut off his balls if he points it out, so he wisely remains silent.

He still wants to have children, after all.

She narrows her eyes at Hyeok. “What does that fresh young master have anything to do with me?”

Hyeok’s throat bobs as he swallows and tries his best to maintain eye contact with Yuyeon. When all else fails—plead the fifth.

Yuyeon’s frown deepens when she’s getting nothing out of Hyeok. Jeongje seems to have finally taken pity on him and gently intervenes. “Prosecutor Kwon and I were just discussing his worries over Lieutenant Han. Considering the kind of work being asked of cops like us, it’s not safe for gay men like Lieutenant Han to be out on his own in the field being exposed to all these bad men who might take advantage of him.”

There’s a crease on Yuyeon’s forehead that appears when she’s thoroughly thinking something through. “I understand how that might be concerning, but—” Yuyeon frowns. “Isn’t that kind of homophobic too? The assumption that just because Lieutenant Han is gay, it means he’s not strong enough to protect himself?”

The look Yuyeon is now directing to both Jeongje and himself is now judgmental and disapproving, and Hyeok can’t help but admire the fact that, for someone she supposedly hates, Yuyeon is still defending Joowon solely on principle.

She really has much more in common with him than she realizes.

“Besides,” Yuyeon is saying, “it’s not as if he’s out there working alone. I’m pretty sure he has a partner.”

Both Hyeok and Jeongje freeze.

Yuyeon is contemplating deeply now. “Come to think of it, since these cases with the Chinese immigrants are happening concurrently in several regions, the jurisdiction now also falls to the Regional Investigation Unit. Which means—”

Yuyeon stops short. Slowly, she meets Jeongje’s gaze. 

“Which means Lieutenant Han’s partner is most likely… from the RIU.”

From his peripheral vision, Hyeok can see the way Jeongje is starting to panic. Plead the fifth, he telegraphs frantically. Plead the fifth!

Yuyeon’s gaze is piercing as she looks back and forth between the two unlikely men forming an alliance against her. Without breaking eye contact, she reaches for her briefcase, rummages swiftly inside, and takes out her phone. She presses the first number on speed dial.

The other line picks up immediately.

“Uri dongsaengie!”

The unmistakable voice of Lee Dongsik rings cheerfully loud on speaker.

“Ne, uri oppa-ya,” Yuyeon drawls, and oh god, Hyeok recognizes that sickeningly-sweet tone on her.

In court, it means that somebody is about to have a very long conviction or pay a very high fine.

Outside of court—it means someone is about to be in very, very big trouble.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of this call from my dear sweet lovely twin sister?”

Hyeok and Jeongje look at each other in mutually shared pity. Lee Dongsik is about to get his ass whooped in three… two…

“Oppa,” Yuyeon says slowly, sweetly—menacingly. “Why is it that it’s my courtroom rival and my ex boyfriend who are the first to be informed that my dear sweet lovely twin brother is gay?”

There’s silence at the end of the line for several long moments. Briefly Hyeok considers adding bearing witness to a murder clause in the NDA.

“So,” Dongsik’s tone is suspiciously bright. “Who do I kill first?”

Hah. Never let it be said that Hyeok isn’t smart enough to anticipate moments like this.

“Park Jeongje, preferably,” Yuyeon remarks airily.

“Duly noted, sis.”

“Yah!” Jeongje exclaims. “Where's the loyalty to your best friend? Why don’t you kill Prosecutor Kwon first?”

They hear a snort from the other end of the line. “I’ll leave that for Joowon-ah to deal with.”

Another silence hangs heavily in the air. Yuyeon’s smile turns lethal.

“… I just gave it away, didn’t I.”

“Oppa.”

Both Jeongje and Hyeok get on their feet as they slowly back away. Of their many, many differences, the one thing they have most in common is how well they know the woman they mutually love.

They know precisely when she’s about to blow.

“When were you gonna TELL ME—!”

“Yuyeon-ah I can explain! Joowon-ah, help me out here—yah, where are you going? I’M ABOUT TO BE MURDERED BY MY OWN TWIN SISTER I NEED A WITNESS—!”

That NDA is going to have a lot of very, very specific clauses.

[afyrian]

a midnight love w/ iwaizumi | wc: 302 m.list

    "where are you?" a quiet voice carries through the large hedges, the maze of foliage making up a significant portion of the garden's landscape.

  holding back a laugh, you tap against one of them, letting the ruffle of branches alert his gaze. rolling his eyes, iwaizumi carries through the gardens, hot on your trail. his broken-in shoes moving carefully against the rocky ground. "you have to be getting back soon, preferably before your father discovers-"

  "discovers what?" you pop out from behind a sculpted hedge, the blocky shape altered to one of multiple spheres, "that i'm on a stroll with my dutiful guard?"

  holding a scowl, iwaizumi shakes his head, arms crossing in front of his chest. "that you've evaded your on-duty protection to 'frolic' in the gardens with what your father would consider below thee. you know that," his voice softens, hands reaching for yours. 

  feeling the callouses on his palms, you look at him, eyes narrowing, "i don't care what he thinks, not when it comes to you, hajime."

  "well, maybe you should. maybe i'm not right for you, not right to lead this kingdom," he grimaces, still holding onto your hands with an intensity that could only match your father's, but with a gentle touch that only he could exhibit. 

  carrying one of his hands with yours, you caress his cheek, feeling the slight stubble he prefers to grow. shaking your head slowly, you bring your lips to the corner of his mouth, giving him a short kiss. just close enough that he can still taste the familiar scent of you. "enough. i do have the power to send you to the dungeon for a night,” you smile, knowing you could never bring yourself to do such a thing. 

  “alright, my liege, your word is my command.”

gen. taglist (open): @eggyrocks @causenessus @applepi25 @softpia @bakery-anon

[laurrelise]

ok also another thing:

i hear “they were stuck on the subway for 7 years alone, what would you expect? of course they fell in love”

can you just do me a favor and try to wrap your head around the fact that writers can literally make whatever they want to happen, happen.

if they want a goddamn pirate ship to crash into the sun and cause another apocalypse they could. would it be stupid? yes. but they could do it.

if they want a giant pterodactyl to bite reginald’s head off and then cause the economy to crash because all of reginald’s money and businesses go under, they could. would it be stupid? yes. but again, they could absolutely do it.

if they want an old man in the body of his nineteen year-old self to get stuck on a subway with his brother’s wife (who he cares about but also sort of hates because she understands him and he’s not used to people understanding him) and fall in love with her after 7 years of hopeless searching, they could.

would it be fucking moronic? you bet. but once again. they could absolutely fucking do it.

and guess what they did!!!!!

could we try our very best to consider that the writers could’ve had five fall in love with literally anyone? that they could’ve brought delores to life (i’m biased, but alas)? that they could’ve introduced literally any other character for him to have a romance with? or that they could’ve remembered that the entire first 3 seasons were familial love stories of five’s caring for his siblings?

could we try our VERY best to remember that both lila AND five were stripped of every one of their character traits to fit into the cookie cutter shapes that would allow them to fall in love?

you say five and lila were perfect for each other, but what you did was you watched two strangers fall in love. that wasn’t five and lila. they were strangers with masks of our favorite characters that netflix deemed acceptable enough to cheap out on.

i don’t think i’ll ever stop being angry about this. fuck

[diejager]

request request request request ughhhhhhh i love you diejager

part two to dark! reader x markarov? Im just addicted to them, your honor- ill take anything you give

Cw: DARKFIC, dark!reader, Makarov is a simp, treason/backstabbing, tell me if I missed any. Note: I'm not e4xactly sure which one you mean, but uh... I'm gonna assume it's the simp Makarov one.

Makarov watched you jump from one roof to another, your lithe body carrying you with grace that he couldn’t fathom having with the lack of training regiment in his life. With his wounded leg, the bullet you generously gifted him in the thigh kept him from chasing you on both the ground and roof, but where he lacked finesse, he outdid himself with his number of followers. While his work was more local, his home was the biggest country in the world, men and women separated by capitalistic thinking, families broken in two and loving couples forced apart. He had what you never thought of: a large organisation.

Small and comfortable, that’s what you’d once told him. A smaller group was easier to control than a large one, world-wide like his. You had a select few around the world that you deemed trustworthy, and he had hundreds and hundreds of men at his disposal. The sole reassurance of his hand helped him relax, to calm his pain and horror as he watched you slip away from him. He would find you once more, healed and back in shape, he would find you again and finally convince you to come back to him —he would always welcome you back with open arms.

So Makarov stood there, straining against his failing strength, an arm slung over Alexei’s and another pressed to the wall, wistfully staring at your figure, growing smaller and smaller by the second until you had completely vanished from his eyes. Despite all he knew, Makarov couldn’t help sighing in disappointment, feeling his body grow exhausted from your sudden break in and his efforts to reel you back in the same way your eyes seemed to capture him.

The next time he saw you, he was staring up the barrel of a gun —your gun. It was a familiar desert eagle, the notable features of silver vines gleaming brightly against the matte black of it’s body. it was the one he gifted you less than a year ago, the prettily crafted weapon he’d commissioned for you out of love and devotion. It was such a pity that you decided to use his gift on him. Though he wouldn’t complain, you were standing right in front of him.

Makarov smiled at you, a small, but giddy one. he couldn’t help the happiness that seemed to bubble out of his abdomen, a light feeling that mixed adjectivally to the adrenaline pumping in his veins.

“Hello, darling.”

You stood proudly in all your glory: drop-dead beautiful, cunning, sly and simply ingenious. Draped in black and and red, donning the colours of his organisation, you looked as unstoppable as he felt boisterous, swoon by the use of his colours. Yet he knew this was a trick, using his infatuation of you to your advantage by using and wearing things he’d considered his at one point. He knew the moment he saw you glance at him with that devastating smirk of your, turning the corner with a steady stride to tempt him to follow.

He knew, but he didn’t care.

“Will you come back? ”Makarov babbled on, wetting his dry lips. “I miss you, милая.” [Darling]

taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @danielle143 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @randominstake @haven-1307 @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @cod-z @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami @cassiecasluciluce

[necrotic-nephilim]

after seeing the poll about who in the batfam could be Deaf, I am now obsessed with how the masks could affect their sign. If they use their signing space differently when in the vigilante persona or not. Signing is so distinctive to each person that the code switching they do would be interesting to see play out in their ASL. Also thinking about what family signs the family would use to refer to batshit things in their lives. q

YEAH YOU GET IT.

(the poll in question) i am deeply fascinated by the mechanics in which Deaf culture could play into the Batfam. bc most of them are wearing masks that would heavily inhibit ASL (given ASL is an expressive language) so i think it's more likely they'd use something akin to Makaton or Military Hand Signals that are not a fully developed language, but a communication aid, with a given set of signs for the typical things that need to be communicated in the field. meanwhile they'd be more likely to use ASL casually. (i'm unsure who all in the Batfam is confirmed to know ASL, but i know at the very least Bruce and Tim are)

i'm also very drawn in by the idea of other firms of assistive communication/tech used aside from just ASL. i personally find it believable that the masks of any of the Batfam could include automatic captioning tech that only they see through the inside of the mask, similar to captioning glasses at movie theatres, if they were Deaf/HoH. also how you would modify the concept of comm links to be more accessible, potentially projecting the message visually through the person's mask or maybe a wrist communicator sort of situation, depending on their personal preference. how the Batfam in general would interact with each other if one or multiple of them were Deaf would be heavily shaped and i think it's so fun. and i *love* the thought of personal signs they'd have to come up with bc well, ASL is hardly equipped for their lifestyle. also fun to consider sign names and if sign names are unique to the person or unique to the mantle. (eg, would the sign name for Robin be specific to which Robin, or just the mantle at large) there's so many little things that would change and i just think it's Neat. most people are approaching the poll from the perspective of their character of choice having hearing loss from vigilante work (which is a super valid way to approach it and i love those headcanons) but personally i find it fun if the deafness is a pre-existing condition and already something the Bat has been dealing with for years and thus approaches vigilantism needing to modify their gear slightly from the standard norm. how they could influence how Bruce trains them, emphasizing other senses. how they'd likely be far more tactical on the field, pressing their hands against something to feel for noise, ergo their gloves may be designed to more easily pick up vibration. (cannot tell you how much i do that irl) whether or not they'd hide it from the larger hero world is also an interesting question. it's all a fun internal struggle as well, internalized ableism and all. so much you could do with it!!

[idontknowreallywhy]

Resurface 35 - Reappraise

Story to date in order (Tumblr / AO3)

ART!VIRGIL KLAXON

Perhaps if you hadn’t read them before these two chapters (here and here) may make more sense of what Virgil has been drawing.

And if you missed the wee!Earth&Sky flying machine adventure, that is contained in this one and this one.

But now, onwards! Virgy-boy still has some demons to exorcise and needs Scooter to help him. Points to whoever spots the cameo from an old friend 😈

💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚

The view from Virgil’s balcony was very similar, but subtly different. They weren’t adjacent - both John’s often-empty and Dad’s always-empty room lay between - and the shift of a few metres to the left meant the light reflected off different facets of the damp rocks of Mateo and the shadows changed shape. The sea met the shore at a marginally different angle, the light refracting through the shallows and hitting the greener end of blue. Two of the trees visible from Scott’s were hidden by the curve of Roundhouse Peak.

Scott hadn’t noticed any of this before Virgil pointed it out. What he did know was that on his own the breeze was stronger and there was fractionally more sky. On a hot day he’d always advocate for the cooler, more exposed position. Where he could see as far as possible. Where he could breathe.

But on a cooler evening, there was something comforting about how the sun’s residual heat radiated from the stone and bathed Virgil’s preferred haven in a warm glow.

Virgil had added to the warmth that evening by opening a bottle of Scott’s favourite scotch which he’d clearly stashed away at some point. Had it been one of the others who produced such a thing, Scott would be waiting for ‘The Favour’ or ‘The Difficult Question’. In Gordon’s case, quite frequently ‘The Confession’.

Virgil, however, often just did it to be nice. And Virgil knew that, unlike Dad and himself, Scott preferred his liquor without rocks. He took another sip and rested his head back with a contented sigh, allowing the liquid to rest on his tongue.

“Scott?”

“Mmmmhmm?” The heat spread through his sinuses as he breathed over it.

“Can I ask you a favour?”

Oh!

The whiskey hit the back of Scott’s throat and his eyeballs burned. Virgil seemed hesitant which mean this was going to be important! He coughed and croaked out a hurried confirmation:

“Always.”

Virgil, staring out to sea, appeared not to notice his brother’s nasal passages vaporising which, again, indicated something was Up. Scott scrubbed at his eyes with a sleeve and with an iron will, forced himself to get a grip of his respiratory system. He was about to say something else encouraging when Virgil suddenly spun to face him and in a voice of utmost seriousness stated:

“It’s a weird one.”

Scott raised an amused eyebrow.

“I can do weird.”

“Would you wear it again?”

The other eyebrow joined it with vigour.

“Wear what? If you’re asking about Halloween and that cursed Superman costume, Alan beat you to it and it’s a hard no. I might be persuaded to consider Batman but only if you’re Robin.”

Virgil snorted and swirled the ice in his glass. The not ungenerous measure he’d poured himself having already disappeared.

“As you very well know I don’t do tights. Not after the Christmas debacle.”

“I think you made a lovely elf.”

“You’re deranged.”

“Yeah but you love me.”

Virgil threw an ice cube at his head before conceding: “I do. Yes.”

He then frowned.

“Scooter, are you CRYING?”

“Nope. No no I’m just… enjoying this with ALL my senses.” He raised the glass and winked.

Virgil narrowed his eyes as if invisibly scanning his brother, then with a quirk of an eyebrow seemed to conclude there was no sudden emotional devastation and released him from scrutiny. He looked back out towards Mateo and tracked the petrels swooping to and from their rocky nests.

Scott followed his line of sight and started a little. There was a small cave at the base of Mateo which was invisible from Scott’s balcony. How had he never seen that before? He was about to point it out when he realised he’d distracted Virgil from his question.

“If you didn’t mean Halloween… what are you asking?”

“Your uniform. The, uh, air force one.”

“Hell no. I’m planning to burn it. That’s not part of my life anymore.”

“That doesn’t sound very environmentally friendly…”

“Alright bury it then. Shred it and bury it. No… shred it, dissolve it in acid then bury it.”

Virgil blinked. “Have you been watching murder mystery reruns again?”

“They’re relaxing.”

“Riiiiiiight.” Despite the feigned disbelief, Scott knew that Virgil had been the one to add three hundred and thirty-six hours worth of ‘A Century of Detective Classics’ to the family server and he knew Virgil knew that he knew that he’d done it as a cunning way to tempt Scott into some downtime. Devious little brothers… who… needed reassuring, immediately.

“It hurt you so it’s got to die. Don’t worry. I don’t even want to touch it again. If Grandma hadn’t spirited it away somewhere to clean it would be gone already.”

“Oh.” Perhaps imbibing scotch straight into his brain had slowed him down, but Virgil didn’t seem as reassured as Scott had intended.

“Don’t you need it for Ash’s dinner? You should go to that, it’s important.”

“I’ll work something out.”

“Oh, ok.” Virgil went quiet again and Scott realised he’d given the wrong answer somehow but wasn’t quite sure how to change it.

“What’s on your mind, Virgil?”

He sighed and cracked his knuckles one by one, making Scott cringe.

“Would you… um, would you wear it once more if… I… for me to… uh…”

“For you?! But… I don’t understand! It made you so unwell? I thought you hated it?”

“I did. I do. But… I don’t want to carry that fear anymore, I can’t be scared of CLOTHES. It’s… I just can’t. It’s ridiculous. And, well… and I was thinking perhaps if I was prepared… if it wasn’t a surprise… it might… I might not react quite so badly? My last memory of it wouldn’t be… uh… so heavy? And maybe I could finish my book.”

“Your book?” Now Scott was really bewildered.

Virgil put down his glass and disappeared into his suite, returning swiftly with one of the large black ring-bound pads of thick art paper the like of which Scott had seen many times. This one was more battered than most and his little brother clutched it to his chest for a moment then cleared his throat awkwardly as he sat down.

“I found it when I was hunting for a sketch I wanted to work up for the exhibition next month. Some of them aren’t… very nice. I was going to just throw it away but Gordon thinks I should complete it… finish the story.”

“Gordon’s seen it?” Scott wasn’t actually jealous, he was relieved to discover - the little snakelike green monster’s appearance seemed to have been limited to the ‘other’ version of himself. But he found himself kind of intrigued that their fish brother was apparently giving art advice these days.

Virgil rolled his eyes and growled quietly. “You know what he’s like… I foolishly tried to hide it when he burst into the room and of course he noticed and he wouldn’t let up until I showed him.”

“May I see?”

Virgil chewed his lip and nodded. Scott shuffled his lounger closer such that they were shoulder to shoulder and felt his jaw drop as Virgil opened to the first page and he saw a vivid recreation in pastel of his toddler self proudly holding a tiny baby Virgil, Mom and Dad hovering in the background. The baby’s fingers were wrapped tightly around his thumb and Virgil had sketched several enlarged views of their chubby hands in pencil along the bottom.

He turned the pages slowly and Scott saw several scenes he definitely recognised from childhood photographs and some he thought must have come from Virgil’s memory. They paddled in a watercolour sea together, rode their bikes in oils, Scott dangled upside down from a charcoal tree with chalky Virgil underneath, arms stretched upwards. There was a cartoon school bus with a dimpled stickman waving from the window.

He smiled as he recognised the two of them with the flying machine on the roof, although he remembered it as much sturdier than the painting suggested. The faded but detailed cross-section taped in to the next double page disabused him of that impression. This one was covered in his own scrawly handwriting. Scott chuckled and raised a hand to the scar on his jaw.

“Oh DEAR, I’d thought it was a much better design than that!”

“Hmmmm.” Virgil rumbled “The basic concept was sound but the materials and our duct tape-biased construction methods left something to be desired and yeah… your “math” was a touch… shaky…”

Virgil smiled and turned over to another cross-section, only this time of a much more elegant design which was surrounded by small sketches of joints and diagrams showing balanced forces, each with the appropriate calculations painstakingly recorded in Virgil’s neat handwriting.

Scott gasped as he realised that this… this could work. Who was he kidding - it was Virgil’s design - of course it would work.

“You fixed it!”

“I did. I felt… bad that we never tried again and you didn’t get your moment.”

“My moment?! Virgil! I nearly killed us both!”

“You were only eleven.”

“Even so…” Scott tried very hard not to think of all the occasions since then when he hadn’t had ‘being only eleven’ as an excuse but the more he tried the more of them bubbled up in his memory like some kind of noxious gas polluting his only fresh water source. No. They were past this now… it was better. Things were changing. He was changing.

“I guess I had this idea that I could build it and if… if you ever came back…” he shook his head “it was just a silly…”

“No.” Scott interrupted, grabbing his arm and pressing his forehead into the side of Virgil’s head. “Not silly. Thoughtful. Ingenious. Seeing the potential in an idea and making it work? Very… YOU.”

Virgil gave a small smile and turned back to the book. Scott felt himself blush at page after page of sketches, all of himself - as a wide eyed child, a cocky teenager winking, a laughing adult flipping pancakes… even a few where he had apparently sprouted falcon wings, one where Virgil had them too.

Scott couldn’t imagine how many hours these must have taken to create

“When did you do all this?”

As soon as the words had left his mouth he knew it was a stupid question. Virgil shrugged and turned the page.

“When you were gone.”

Scott put his arm around Virgil’s shoulders and squeezed as he turned again, seemingly keen not to linger on any one image.

A blazing sun burned out of the page, the wall of colour marred only by a silhouette of the falcon-winged man, clearly falling, curled in on himself as the wings trailed limply behind, the dark shapes of lost feathers becoming larger and more detailed towards the top. No prizes for spotting the reference there. The real sun, heading swiftly towards the horizon seemed to lose most of its heat and a modern day Icarus-but-for-Many-Miraculous-Escapes wondered yet again how he could have been so blind.

If that one gave him a chill, the next made him shiver, the warmth from the whiskey had now entirely dissipated - a faint pencil outline Scott holding a heavily shadowed Virgil in his arms. Then… there was that same Air Force Grad photo, reproduced in a dozen different styles. The last one almost photo-realistic but crossed through in heavy red pen.

Virgil tried to skip several pages but Scott gently took his hand and turned back. He recognised the image of the crashing jet, over and over… pencil drawn, painted, scratched with a blade into a thick black layer of wax crayon. There followed a page solely of fire. Skeletal outlines of fighter jets. Storms. Crowds of agonised faces. An incredibly detailed map of Bereznik decorated with vicious-looking black insects.

The last few pages shocked Scott the most - all the pictures were drawn on scraps of paper, and then glued in. The largest was a drawing in black ballpoint pen of an almost unrecognisable bearded stranger in a hospital bed, covered in bandages and tubes. There were smaller pencil studies of bruised hands, a foot, an ear, eyebrows over sunken eye sockets, a nearly skeletal chin with a scar… his scar. Scott swallowed hard - he’d looked that bad?

One smaller image stood out as it had clearly been screwed into a ball before being flattened out to stick on to the page. Scott’s younger self winked and laughed up at him from behind the creases, one arm wrapped around a huge box of popcorn, the other hand reaching out of the page towards him. Virgil had clearly got hold of a blue ballpoint pen for this one and had skilfully used it to produce a rainbow’s worth of blue shades. The picture somehow gleamed at him and Scott felt the green serpent stir in his gut. He bit the side of his tongue and motioned for Virgil to turn over to the next.

The very last page contained only the sky in vivid shades of blue with light wisps of cloud: Virgil’s starting place.

Scott swallowed hard as he realised Gordon hadn’t been giving art advice at all.

“I put it away when dad brought you home.”

“It’s… Wow…”

“It was an outlet.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Scotty.”

“Not all of it. Some things though.”

He pulled his brother close again and planted a kiss in his hair.

“So how do you want to finish it?”

[lousypotatoes]

I've Got A Smile On My Face

Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Pt. 3 Pt. 4 Pt. 5 Pt. 6 Pt. 7 Pt. 8 Pt. 9 Pt. 10 Pt. 11

Song Recommendation:

Always - Irving Berlin

Warning! This chapter contains depictions of panic attacks, and graphic violence! If this triggers you or makes you uncomfy in any way shape or form, please read with caution.

90 years ago...

It had been six months since Alastor kissed Y/N on her front porch. As expected, the two of them were now an item.

During the span of those six months, everything was absolutely perfect. The flower shop was thriving, Alastor's radio show was more popular than ever, Jasper didn't come by the shop since their interaction, and most importantly, Alastor and Y/N were so very much in love, Y/N felt that she fell more in love with him every time she saw him.

The only thing she didn't like about their relationship was the big secret she had to keep from him.

There were times that she oh so badly wanted to tell Alastor that her real job was killing people, and that running the flower shop was a cover up, but she was terrified that he was going to be disgusted with her, and leave her.

And Y/N didn't know what she would do if Alastor left.

It was mid afternoon, almost noon. The weather outside was very rainy and very stormy. Y/N was arranging the shelves, making sure the flower buds were facing the front.

It always annoyed her when customers would look at flowers and not put them back the correct way.

When she was done, she walked to the register and counted the money.

She sighed. Business was very slow that day, obviously because of the rain. She had almost considered closing the shop up early and going home, but felt it was better to just stay, just in case any customers came in after the rain cleared up.

Sitting down the chair behind the counter, Y/N put her head in her hands, bored as ever.

Hopefully Alastor would come and visit her. He always did, but Y/N thought he might not today obviously because of the stormy weather.

To her surprise and delight, she heard the bell ring, signaling that there was a customer.

"Hello can I help yo-Alastor!"

"Hello, my love," Alastor said, swooping down to catch Y/N in a kiss.

Y/N would never get tired of kissing Alastor, no matter how many time she did kiss him. It was like magic every time.

"How has your day been?" Alastor asked as he pulled away.

"Very slow, but much better now that you're here," Y/N smiled. "How was yours?"

"As slow as molasses," Alastor sighed. "I had to cancel all my broadcasts today because of this damn weather."

"Oh, that's a shame," she said. "It seems like this weather is bringin' everybody down."

"You can say that again," he said. "You thinking of heading home early?"

"I was thinkin' 'bout it," she replied. "I think I'll stick around for a few more hours."

"Well, if you're not busy tonight," Alastor said, grabbing onto her hips. "How about dinner at my place?"

"Depends," Y/N said, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Are you gonna be the one cookin'?"

"Of course," he chuckled.

"Then I'll have to take a rain check on that," she giggled. "Dinner sounds nice, what time should I swing by?"

"I prefer around six," Alastor answered..

"Six it is," Y/N said. "You gonna head back home?"

"I suppose so, yes. I gotta tidy up a bit."

"All that for me?"

"Only the best for you, my dear," Alastor said, sincere. "I'll catch you later tonight."

"Aw, alright," Y/N pouted. "If I ain't there by at least seven, you better come and get me and drag me back to your place."

"Alright, I will, I promise," he laughed before leaning down and placing his lips on Y/N's.

The kiss was sweet and loving, as it always was. The way their lips perfectly molded against each other, like they were made for each other, made Y/N's heart feel like it was about to burst.

The only reason they broke apart was so they could breath air.

If Y/N could, she would make Alastor her air.

"Goodbye, Al," she smiled up at him. "I love you."

"I love you most," he said, before letting go of her.

He gave her one more smile before walking out of the shop, the bell ringing, signaling his leave.

Y/N walked back behind the counter, a dreamy smile on her face.

"I'm going to marry that man someday," she dreamily said to herself.

Even though it was rainy and story outside, nothing could ruin this perfect day.

It was 5:45 in the evening. Y/N was counting the money in the register for the twelfth time that day.

Besides Alastor, only three other people came in the shop that day.

Screw the rainy weather. No one even likes rain that much anyway.

Looking up at the clock, Y/N decided that she was going to stop working, and head over to Alastor's

Going into the back room, she put the money into a safe under a fake floorboard, checked her nightly schedule for that week (thankfully she only had to kill two people that week), and grabbed her umbrella and her raincoat, preparing to go into the cold rainy weather.

Walking out of the back room, she was stopped dead in her tracks, a look of fear and despair on her face.

"J-Jasper," she choked. "What are you doin' here?"

The two of them hadn't interacted since the incident in the flower shop six months ago. Y/N had hoped that Jasper had taken the hint and decided to leave her alone.

But this was Jasper we're talking about, and things never were easy with him, no matter how big or small the situation was.

"Just came to say hi," he said, a sadistic and gleeful smile on his face. He was holding something behind his back, but Y/N didn't know what.

"It's been a while since we've seen each other, thought we could catch up a bit."

He started to walk closer to Y/N, she started to back up.

"So now you're with that mama's boy, Alastor Altruist, huh?" he said, still grinning. "Didn't think you would be into a weirdo like that, but oh well."

Y/N didn't say anything, too frozen in fear to say a single word.

Jasper then revealed what was behind his back. It was a long, thin, razor sharp blade, the kind that Y/N would use when she didn't feel like using any of her guns.

If you wanted to kill someone real quick, you would use a blade like the one Jasper had.

Y/N's eyes widened in fear and terror.

She had a small pistol in her office, but there was no way she was going to be able to get it without putting up a fight.

"Y'know darling," he drawled, creeping very slowly towards her. "I didn't quite like the things you said to me the last time we talked.

Y/N gulped, slowly inching herself towards a shelf holding a dozen flower vases.

Jasper didn't notice. "Not gonna say anything, huh?" he asked, eyes glinting sinisterly.

"Don't worry, I'm not gonna hurt you, I'm just gonna spill your fuckin' guts out."

Jasper lunged at Y/N, ready to strike.

Quickly, Y/N grabbed one of the vases on the shelf, and smashed it over Jasper's head, glass shards and flowers going everywhere all over the floor.

"You bitch!" Jasper snarled. He stopped in his tracks for a moment, clutching his bleeding head.

Y/N took this opportunity to try and run out of the front door.

She decided that it was stupid if she locked herself in her back room. If she ran out the front door, she could just run to the nearest public place and get help.

She was just a few feet from the door, when Jasper grabbed onto her wrist, twisting it hard.

Y/N turned around and was getting ready to punch him in the jaw, but that was replaced with a cry of pain and anguish.

Jasper had stabbed Y/N in the stomach, just above where her belly button was.

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise and fear, crying out again when Jasper stabbed her a second time.

"How does that feel?" he whispered. "Doesn't feel too good does it?"

"F-" Y/N stuttered. "Fuck you!"

With a snarl, Jasper stabbed her in the shoulder.

Blood was oozing out of all three of her stab wounds, staining both her and Jasper's clothes, and staining the white marble tile.

Jasper dragged her away, propping her in a siting position behind the counter.

"No one's gonna find you right here," he smirked. "Besides, you'll die in at least thirty minutes anyway."

Y/N knew that wasn't right, but didn't say anything, scared out of her mind.

What was she going to do?

She wasn't ready to die.

She didn't want to die.

What would happen to her shop?

What would happen to precious dog, Honey?

What would happen to Alastor?

As one last 'fuck you', Jasper bent down, kissed Y/N's sweaty forehead, and walked out the front door, the bell chiming.

As soon as he left, Y/N tried to get off the ground. She tried at least five times. But each time she tried, she failed, she fell back onto the ground with a painful wail.

After the fifth time, she stared up at the ceiling, wondering what would happen when someone found her body.

Maybe this was karma for all the people she had killed over the fifteen years she had been an assassin, she thought.

As Y/N thought about it more, she actually didn't feel like she was going to die. Yes, it was painful, but it just felt like she hadn't had any sleep in a really long time.

And she really wanted to sleep.

She looked up at the clock. It was 5:58.

She laughed dryly. If only she had left a little bit earlier, even if it was just a minute, she wouldn't of been on the floor bleeding out.

With one last sigh coming out of her mouth, she closed her eyes, succumbing to the darkness, and passed out thinking about Alastor and her dog.

In no way she was ready to die, or wanted to, but she accepted that there was nothing she could do, and that this was karma.

She deserved to die, she thought

CLIFFHANGER

i wont be uploading any time this weekend or next weekend because i'll be in disneyland

i'm so excited

stay safe and drink lots of water <33

xoxo, Izzy

Taglist 💋

@maksdust @trippoverrt @slytherin4ever @lucifers-silhouette @a-small-tyrant

@mo-0-o @cutiebimbo @mommymilkers0526 @mikariell95 @al-of-the-stars

@martinys-world @bibliophile-yomna @mysticwitchcraftco @notsoaverageguy-1997 @flamewriterr

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

Mike Luckovich:: GOP strategy in its totality

* * * * *

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

September 18, 2024

Heather Cox Richardson

Sep 19, 2024

Today, at a White House reception in celebration of Hispanic Heritage Month, President Joe Biden said: "We don't demonize immigrants. We don't single them out for attacks. We don't believe they're poisoning the blood of the country. We're a nation of immigrants, and that's why we're so damn strong."

Biden’s celebration of the country’s heritage might have doubled as a celebration of the success of his approach to piloting the economy out of the ravages of the pandemic. Today the Fed cut interest rates a half a point, a dramatic cut indicating that it considers inflation to be under control. Treasury Secretary Janet Yellen has maintained that it would be possible to slow inflation without causing a recession—a so-called soft landing—and she appears to have been vindicated.

Federal Reserve chief Jerome Powell said: “The labor market is in solid condition, and our intention with our policy move today is to keep it there. You can say that about the whole economy: The US economy is in good shape. It’s growing at a solid pace, inflation is coming down. The labor market is at a strong pace. We want to keep it there. That’s what we’re doing.”

Powell, whom Trump first appointed to his position, said, “We do our work to serve all Americans. We’re not serving any politician, any political figure, any cause, any issue, nothing. It’s just maximum employment and price stability on behalf of all Americans.”

Powell was anticipating accusations from Trump that his cutting of rates was an attempt to benefit Harris before the election. Indeed, Jeff Stein of the Washington Post reported that Trump advisor Steven Moore called the move “jaw-dropping. There's no reason they couldn't do 25 now and 25 right after the election. Why not wait till then?” Moore added, "I'm not saying [the] reduction isn't justified—it may well be and they have more data than I do. But i just think, 'why now?’” Alabama senator Tommy Tuberville called the cut “shamelessly political.” 

The New Yorker’s Philip Gourevitch noted that “Trump has been begging officials worldwide not to do the right thing for years to help rig the election for him—no deal in Gaza, no defense of Ukraine, no Kremlin hostages release, no border deal, no continuing resolution, no interest rate cuts etc—just sabotage & subterfuge.”

That impulse to focus on regaining power rather than serving the country was at least part of what was behind Republican vice presidential candidate J.D. Vance’s lie about Haitian immigrants in Springfield, Ohio. That story has gotten even darker as it turns out Vance and Trump received definitive assurances on September 9 that the rumor was false, but Trump ran with it in the presidential debate of September 10 anyway. Now, although it has been made very clear—including by Republican Ohio governor Mike DeWine—that the Haitian immigrants in Springfield are there legally, Vance told a reporter today that he personally considers the programs under which they came illegal, so he is still “going to call [a Haitian migrant] an illegal alien.”

The lies about those immigrants have so derailed the Springfield community with bomb threats and public safety concerns that when the Trump campaign suggested Trump was planning a visit there, the city’s Republican mayor, Rob Rue, backed by DeWine, threw cold water on the idea. “It would be an extreme strain on our resources. So it’d be fine with me if they decided not to make that visit,” Rue said. Nonetheless, tonight, Trump told a crowd in Long Island, New York, that he will go to Springfield within the next two weeks. 

The false allegation against Haitian immigrants has sparked outrage, but it has accomplished one thing for the campaign, anyway: it has gotten Trump at least to speak about immigration—which was the issue they planned to campaign on—rather than Hannibal Lecter, electric boats, and sharks, although he continues to insist that “everyone is agreeing that I won the Debate with Kamala.” Trump, Vance, and Republican lawmakers are now talking more about policies.

In the presidential debate of September 10, Trump admitted that after nine years of promising he would release a new and better healthcare plan than the Affordable Care Act in just a few weeks, all he really had were “concepts of a plan.” Vance has begun to explain to audiences that he intends to separate people into different insurance pools according to their health conditions and risk levels. That business model meant that insurers could refuse to insure people with pre-existing conditions, and overturning it was a key driver of the ACA.

Senate and House Republicans told Peter Sullivan of Axios that if they regain control of the government, they will work to get rid of the provision in the Inflation Reduction Act that permits the government to negotiate with pharmaceutical companies over drug prices. Negotiations on the first ten drugs, completed in August, will lower the cost of those drugs enough to save taxpayers $6 billion a year, while those enrolled in Medicare will save $1.5 billion in out-of-pocket expenses. 

Yesterday Trump promised New Yorkers that he would restore the state and local tax deduction (SALT) that he himself capped at $10,000 in his 2017 tax cuts. In part, the cap was designed to punish Democratic states that had high taxes and higher government services, but now he wants to appeal to voters in those same states. On CNBC, host Joe Kernan pointed out that this would blow up the deficit, but House speaker Mike Johnson said that the party would nonetheless consider such a measure because it would continue to stand behind less regulation and lower taxes.

In a conversation with Arkansas governor Sarah Huckabee Sanders, his former press secretary, Trump delivered another stream of consciousness commentary in which he appeared to suggest that he would lower food prices by cutting imports. Economics professor Justin Wolfers noted: “I'm exhausted even saying it, but blocking supply won't reduce prices, and it's not even close.” Sarah Longwell of The Bulwark added, “Tell me more about why you have to vote for Trump because of his ‘policies.’”

Trump has said he supports in vitro fertilization, or IVF, as have a number of Republican lawmakers, but today, 44 Republican senators once again blocked the Senate from passing a measure protecting it. The procedure is in danger from state laws establishing “fetal personhood,” which give a fertilized egg all the rights of a human being as established by the Fourteenth Amendment. That concept is in the 2024 Republican Party platform.

Trump has also demanded that Republicans in Congress shut down the government unless a continuing resolution to fund the government contains the so-called SAVE Act requiring people to show proof of citizenship when registering to vote. Speaker Johnson continues to suggest that undocumented immigrants vote in elections, but it is illegal for even documented noncitizens to do so, and Aaron Reichlin-Melnick of the nonprofit American Immigration Council notes that even the right-wing Heritage Foundation has found only 12 cases of such illegal voting in the past 40 years.

Johnson brought the continuing resolution bill with the SAVE Act up for a vote today. It failed by a vote of 202 to 220. If the House and then the Senate don’t pass a funding bill, the government will shut down on October 1.

Republican endorsements of the Harris-Walz ticket continue to pile up. On Monday, six-term representative Bob Inglis (R-SC) told the Charleston City Paper that “Donald Trump is a clear and present danger to the republic” and said he would vote for Harris. “If Donald Trump loses, that would be a good thing for the Republican Party,” Inglis said. “Because then we could have a Republican rethink and get a correction.” 

George W. Bush’s attorney general Alberto Gonzales, conservative columnist George Will, more than 230 former officials for presidents George H.W. Bush and George W. Bush, and 17 former staff members for Ronald Reagan have all recently added their names to the list of those supporting Harris. Today more than 100 Republican former members of Congress and national security officials who served in Republican administrations endorsed Harris, saying they “firmly oppose the election of Donald Trump.” They cited his chaotic governance, his praising of enemies and undermining allies, his politicizing the military and disparaging veterans, his susceptibility to manipulation by Russian president Vladimir Putin, and his attempt to overthrow democracy. They praised Harris for her consistent championing of “the rule of law, democracy, and our constitutional principles.” 

Yesterday, singer-songwriters Billie Eilish, who has 119 million followers on Instagram, and Finneas, who has 4.2 million, asked people to register and to vote for Harris and Walz. “Vote like your life depends on it,” Eilish said, “because it does.”

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

[quitealotofsodapop]

Hi! I wanted to ask something.

Like, most of us knows there are 4 Spiritual Monkeys in the legend(book)... Do the Wukongs and theyr LEM's ever tought about looking for them? Cause mines did and It was chaos

Tongbi: Wait... why there are not other us, Chikao? *Sad precious sunshine noises*

Chikao: We are probably lucky in theyr universes to not having to ature theyr "bullduey"

*Wukong and Liu'er fighting in the most platonic way possible*

(If you are wandering who Tongbi and Chikao are, Chikao = Baboon and Tongi = Gibbon. And both are girls)

Love them and all the different versions people are coming up with! Bonus: the @journeytothewestresearch post about them!

I've been personally calling them "Babs" = Baboon (Chikao mahou, 赤尻馬猴) and "Gibs" = Gibbon (Tongbi yuanhou, 通臂猿猴) as a nickname! XD

My idea is that they are the older of the four *known* celestial primates, with the oldest celestial primate being the since-ascended Shen Monkey who raced for the Jade Emperor.

Tongbi/Gibs has a naturally stretchy body (think like Monkey D Luffy) and is very optimistic. Whilst, Chikao/Babs is more of a realist with the power of reading a person's thoughts/intentions (an interpretation I have for "Understands human affairs,").

My personal hc backstory for them is that;

Tongbi/Gibs was born/hatched along the Heavenly River, her species limbs stretching to allow them to climb, swim and dance between the clouds and astral waterways. She could be considered the "Fresh-Water Monkey" for this reason. Her egg had actually fallen to earth during the Great Flood when the fifth Heavenly Pillar broke, and was found by a tribe of proto-humans (of which Fuxi originated) that raised her as their own. She lived with them for many years before deciding to seek out others of her kind - where upon she met Chikao/Babs

Menawhile, Chikao/Babs was actually born into the Underworld amongst demonkind. Her fellow demons did not understand why she had hatched from a egg-shaped stone that sat undisturbed in the demon-capital city of Youdu for many millennia, but they accepted her as their colleague nonetheless. When Chikao/Babs came of age, she was trained to carry out the duties of a Psychopomp; to gather and bring deceased soul before Yama and the Ten Kings, the same duties as Ox-Head and Horse-Face. She could be considered the "Abyss Monkey" for her gloomy origin.

The two celestial monkeys meet by pure chance when Chikao/Babs herself nearly dies trying to collect the soul of a reluctant water demon. Tongbi/Gibs saved her, and it was love/fascination at first sight like Little Mermaid.

The two female monkeys are soulmates in a yin-yang like dynamic. One stern and aloof, the other silly and expressive. They began seeking out others of their kind almost immediately after meeting - failing until they found a certain little stone monkey being cared for by an old mentor.

I made a joke post a while back about these two finding little Sun Wukong early and raising him as their own, and now I can't stop thinking of it! The Netflix and Smash Legends SWKs are who I most imagine as having the two super-powered moms, but I could def see an AU of Lego SWK having moms. X3

Chikao and Tongbi def be cringing hard at how bad their son is fumbling expressing his feelings for Macaque, and for how bad Macaque is at confronting *his* feelings!

[bigskydreaming]

Imagine if you were a gay or bi man who tried a certain firefighter show because of all the attention it was getting for one of its mains having a later in life bi awakening.....and between seasons you ventured into its fandom in search of material to tide you over til the next one. And you're greeted by a deluge of posts and fics that are just cheerfully homophobic towards one half of the newly out bi character's canon relationship on the basis of 'well he's not the RIGHT gay guy' and pushing the idea that actually its fine to cheat on him because Reasons and he's sexually predacious based on......behind the scenes implications people have divined like they're reading fucking tea leaves.

But don't get it twisted....this fandom, like all fandoms, really cares about representation!

Sorry not sorry, but we really need to kill this idea that fandoms are welcoming and inviting and inherently progressive when they're frequently insular and reductive as fuck. Every single fandom I've been in has had major trends of people doubling down on their own headcanons and fanon interpretations of the characters and willfully enacting trends aimed at running off people who like the 'wrong' characters (usually characters marginalized along one or multiple axes), like the characters in the 'wrong ways' or other bullshit.

Scott is a Bad Friend fics overtaking Teen Wolf fandom was not incidental, it was a FEATURE of the fandom, because the vast majority of that fandom did not want to share its space with anyone who had the nerve to like its main character. Survivors complaining about or criticizing the prevalance of rape fics in a certain fandom has in my experience always led to a reactionary UPTICK in those fics, with gems like 'this character can, will, must be raped' in the tags making it crystal clear that some of these fics exist because how fucking DARE anyone try and push forth a narrative not agreed upon by Fandom Main.

I could cite examples for so many other fandoms, with the commonalities always being that vast majorities in these fandoms are explicitly reacting defensively to being asked to be more mindful of fandom trends revolving around or exacerbating racism, homophobia, transphobia, rape or abuse apologia, ableism, etc....

With the most prolific fucking rallying cry across countless fandoms being "No the fuck we will NOT be doing that," because lolololol.....

Fandom is an inherently progressive space, didn't you hear?

[carlyraejepsans]

saw your most recent post about really good fics that contain uncomfortable kinks and i immediately thought "ah, biscia must be reading the mpreg soriel fic" and almost left a reply talking about it but i stopped myself because i realized that would be an insane assumption to make. needless to say i felt so vindicated when i saw you link it in an earlier post.

like. HELLO?

HELLO???????