#did you laugh at the punchline? be honest

[spectrechosts]

April Fools - Chapters 16-18

As one problem is resolved, another rears it's ugly head.

Full Series

DAY 16: AUTUMN WINDS

And just like that, the heatwave breaks.

The heavy, suffocating, overpowering summer air is swept away by autumn winds, and they carry with them the cool relief of change.

The Queen walks the gardens; admires the flowers before they're gone, the multicolored leaves before they fall. With her as always is the Knight, following a dutiful half-step behind.

And alongside them- not following per se, but orbiting; dancing around the two as if she follows her own path, but never straying from them- is the Fool.

The blooms aren't as beautiful as they were in the spring, but the Knight takes one and gives it to the Queen nonetheless. She takes it, and places a kiss on the Knight's offered hand.

The Fool darts in and takes the Knight's other hand, pressing her lips to it before twirling to the other side of the pair and doing the same to the Queen.

The Knight rolls her eyes as the Fool jingles nimbly away, and the Queen giggles, and all is as it should be.

~~~

DAY 17: MASQUERADES AND MARKS

"I know that I have been overly cautious in the past, but I would like to reiterate that this is a terrible idea."

"Nonsense!" Says the Queen, as she flits about overseeing preparations. "We always have a masquerade ball in the autumn, it's tradition!"

"Will you at least let me guard you?"

"My knight, it's a masquerade ball. If you're beside me the whole time, won't everyone know who I am?"

"Yes, but-"

"And won't I be safer, if I'm hidden?"

"I suppose, but-"

"Hang on-" Interjects the Fool. "You actually can't tell who's who behind those silly masks?"

The Queen tilts her head to the side.

"Weeeeeell, mostly." She says. "It depends on the mask. Mine is pretty good!"

The Queen demonstrates, and her mask is… okay.

It covers her entire face, sure, but there are other ways to identify someone. It's ornate, too ornate to be worn by at least half the attendees. Her hair isn't hidden, her voice is unmuffled- Not to mention all the things no mask could hide: Her height, her build; the Queen is small, not extremely so, but enough to narrow things down. These are all things that the Fool would use to pick out a mark at a masquerade, and so she must assume any would-be assassin will be at least as competent.

"Well, it does look rather fetching." She says. "But I wouldn't count on your anonymity."

The Knight snorts.

"And you're an expert on recognizing people by looking at them, aye?"

"This again? You know as well as I that she gives memorable kisses, I'm not shamed by my memory."

"You should be, methinks. As it is, you're liable to forget me entire."

"How awful that would be! Prithee, aid my recollection!" Says the Fool, sticking her tongue out.

~

The masquerade is wonderful, as it is every year. The Queen mingles, and dances, and makes merry. For one night a year, she isn't viewed by the rest of the nobility as some combination of pity case and obstacle to their own ambitions.

Her knight is around, somewhere. She wears the standard closed helmet of all the other royal guards on this night, and acts in a less personal capacity. She doubtless watches her even now, while she cannot be by her side.

The Fool is more noticeable. She wears no mask, for a jester's paint is mask enough. She is quite drunk, her movements lacking their usual grace and her mood raucous and joyful. She gambols through the crowd, stumbling and crashing into partygoers all the way.

"Quite some party, isn't it?" Says a masked figure beside her.

"Quite a party." The Queen agrees. "Though I dare say I'm not as jolly as Her Majesty's fool."

"I'm thankful for that, the wretched sot damn near bowled me over."

She giggles. "She seems the sort, yes."

"Yes, well, I won't waste your time with idle chatter." Says the masked figure. "Goodbye, Highness."

They walk past her, bumping shoulders as they do. She feels them jab something into her stomach, then smoothly drop it and continue moving.

She blinks and looks down.

The remnants of a banana, mashed flat against her skin, lay on the ground.

"Uh..?" She says, taking a moment to parse what's just happened.

"…What." Whispers the figure, having felt something was off and looked back at their very much unharmed target. They scramble for a weapon, grabbing a knife off a nearby table before the Knight crashes into them, pinning them to the ground.

The Queen just stands there, frozen with shock. "Oh." She says. "Oh my. Oh no, oh no no no no."

She feels a guiding hand at her back, and the Fool shepherds her into a seat as the crowd retreats and gawks.

"Keep calm, Your Majesty. You're safe." She says.

"Oh, oh my poor knight, she's going to be so upset." Says the Queen, shaking her head, and the Fool chuckles.

"You're really something else, you know that?" She says, sitting down beside her and pulling a snack out of her coat. She takes a bite, and then holds it out to the Queen.

"Banana?" She asks, and the Queen squints at her.

~~~

DAY 18: STILETTO AND CROWN

The Fool plinks her confiscated stiletto point down into the table, leaving it stuck.

"Lifted it off 'em a couple minutes before. Didn't like how they watched the crowd."

The Knight picks it up to inspect.

"Doesn't look magic." She says. "Poisoned?"

"Probably?" Says the Fool, shrugging. "Seemed pretty certain they could just stick her and walk away."

The Knight sighs shakily.

"Thank you, truly. I don't know what I would have done, if not for you."

"Don't mention-"

The Fool is cut off by a quick punch to her shoulder.

"Wh- ow!"

"Idiot clown! Did you not think perhaps to accost them!?"

"Hey!" Whines the Fool. "We aren't all armored brutes! You would have me tackle an assassin?"

"Not tackle." Hisses the Knight, and the Fool blinks.

"Oh!" She says. "Well, you should have said before. I assumed you would want them jailed, all proper like."

The Knight grumbles, and the Fool gently places a hand over hers.

"She's safe, fair knight. They failed."

"They failed this time." The Knight counters.

"And every failure makes it harder for them to try again. We'll get her through this, just-"

The Fool pauses.

"Hang on."

She quickly strides to the door to the Queen's chambers and pulls it open, and the Queen stumbles into her arms.

"You are meant to be in bed, my sickly sweet." The Fool says softly, wiping sweat from her brow.

Her Majesty doesn't do well in the damp cold of autumn. Illness abounds, and hits her harder than most. In the wake of the ball she is wracked with fever and an awful, wet, cough.

"I can hear you, talking out here." She says. "But I can't make out the words from my bed. 's infuriating."

"I'm sorry, Majesty. We'll be quieter; please, try to rest." The Knight says, and she tries to guide the Queen back into bed only to be shooed away by a weakly flailing arm.

"Nooo!" Mumbles the Queen. "'m fine, let me listen." She insists, as she escapes both of their grips and slumps against the doorframe. "Have you gotten anything out of my would-be killer?"

The Knight grimaces, watching the Queen slide slowly downward.

"Here, we can move the conversation into your room-" She starts, and the Queen shoos her away again.

"No! I like it here. I want to be on the floor." She says, and the Fool shrugs, and the Knight begrudgingly lets her be as she finishes her slow descent. "Mm. Floor time."

She fetches a thin sheet from the Queen's bed and drapes it over her before continuing.

"They won't talk. Say they'll just wait for the new king to let them go."

"New king, eh?"

"Tell 'em I'll let them go if they tell us. No hard feelings." Murmurs the Queen.

"King, yeah. Which narrows things down, but not a lot. We can rule out any unmarried women, for this assassination plot anyway."

"And if they don't tell us, then we have 'em executed right now. See their king save 'em from that." She continues, half listening.

"Well if we solve this assassination plot hopefully anyone else thinking about it will think twice." Says the Fool.

The Knight grunts. "'Hopefully' is doing a lot of work, there."

"Could I have some water please?" Asks the Queen, after a short coughing fit; and her knight is up before she's finished asking.

"Of course, I'll be right back Highness."

She leaves, and the Fool joins the Queen on the floor.

"Hello, Your Majesty."

"Hello, my charming fool." The Queen says, smiling weakly. "I didn't tell you. The banana thing, where you stole their knife and replaced it with a banana? That was funny."

"Thank you, Highness."

"Tried to kill me with a banana, how absurd."

"I know, Highness." Says the Fool, straight-faced. "That shit was bananas."

[endless-ineffabilities]

eclipsed (Aemond Targaryen x f!reader)

You loved him. He didn't feel the same. Until everything changed – but is it too late?

main masterlist ▪︎ word count: 1.7k

a/n: I envisioned modern Aemond as I was writing this. Also, the usual taglist is sadly not included for this spontaneous oneshot. I trust that the angst will find you if it's meant to be!

Aemond Targaryen was once everything to you. 

Your guiding light. Your sun and your stars. You knew you had a heart, you knew it was beating true, because it worshipped him with such a ferocity that would put a devotee to shame. Nothing and no else compared. You would have been content to simply exist in his orbit, to watch as he lived and loved.

He loved you too. You knew that. But as a brother loved a sister, as a friend loved a friend. 

And all kinds of love were meant to appear dim and pale in comparison to what he felt for Alys.

He doted on her. She was everything to him. She was his guiding light, his sun and stars. You could never compare. 

It was an unbearable truth, one you had tried for too long to ignore, but there came a time when you reached your breaking point. One evening, you asked to meet him. You knew you were about to ask for so much more – you were asking for something he could never offer.

You were asking to be seen. 

You could no longer sit idly by, watching the sun shine on the world while the moon was left in the shadows.

When you confessed, his reaction was as callous as it was predictable. Aemond laughed in disbelief, as though your words were at the end of some punchline. “Okay,” he said dismissively, “I love you too.”

“No.” You shook your head, looking away. You had to bite your lip to keep the tears from falling. “I love you, Aemond.”

“Yes, I know,” he smiled, taking a step closer, grimacing when you put your hands up to stop him from reaching out for you.

“I’m in love with you.” You had to take a deep breath before you continued. “I love you. Maybe you knew all along. Maybe you didn’t. But you have to know that.”

There it was, suspended in the atmosphere between the two of you, before the inevitable crash and crumble. 

“I don’t get it, darling.” He exhaled roughly, as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You love me?”

“What don’t you get?” Your voice came out sharper than intended, but you couldn’t be anything but honest. 

“I… this is… but you’re like a sister to me!” 

“Oh, fuck off, Aemond.” You waved his words away, trying to dampen just how brutal they stung. Just how much they cut deep. 

“Well, then,” he sneered, his eyes darkening with a defensive anger. “Thanks for that.”

“Is that…” You met his eyes once more, that heart-wrenching shade of blue. “Do you have anything else to say?”

His gaze hardened. “I’m with Alys.”

“I know that.”

“I love Alys.” He spat the words out like they were meant to be a scolding. Didn’t you know this? What exactly were you expecting from him? That he would cry and take you in his arms? I love you too… I love you too… I always have…

“I know that too.” The first bitter tear fell down your cheek. You inhaled sharply, wiping at your face with the back of your sleeve. You began pacing in an attempt to get a hold of your nerves. You did not want to have a complete breakdown in front of him. But then again, the worst has already happened. How much more humiliation could there possibly be?

“I’m sorry, darling.” His voice softened as he reached for you again, and this time, when you resisted, he simply caught your arms gently and pulled you against him. “Truly, I am. You have no idea.”

He held you, however long you needed to be held. He was good like that, he always has been. But it felt like a cruel comfort – mere scraps of affection when you wanted the entire feast. 

“I do love you, you know,” he murmured into your hair, his voice soothing as it broke your heart anew. “Always, I promise.”

And he did. 

But it was never going to be enough.

You were the moon to his sun, forever watching from a distance, knowing you would never truly share the same sky.

Aemond rarely saw you after that night. A week passed, then two, then a month. The silence between you stretched longer than he had expected, but still he thought nothing of it. Perhaps you were simply giving each other space, allowing the awkwardness to settle.

But then, when he tried seeking you out, there were no responses. He found out from a mutual friend that you had moved to another region. There was a promising work opportunity, apparently, one that had been too good to pass up.

You just conveniently failed to mention this to him. 

You drifted from his life without warning, and Aemond was not prepared for how deeply it would hurt. How lost he would feel. He was out of orbit, reeling, mourning the ghost of someone who still lived, but seemingly no longer wanted anything to do with him.

Alys was not blind to it. But there was nothing she could do. She could only watch as Aemond’s light began to dim, gradually fading until it barely reached her. She had no choice but to stand by as he became a hollow version of the man whom she thought loved her so fiercely.

An entire year passed before Aemond saw you again. 

It happened by chance, or perhaps some cruel twist of fate. You were there, with your adorable flushed cheeks and smile as bright as the sun. He did not know what to expect, but there you were, hugging him like the long lost friend he had become.

You looked better than ever, while he was barely getting by. 

“You look like you could use some sun, Aem,” you remarked lightheartedly, noticing how pale he got. “I can’t believe it’s been so long.”

You appeared carefree, but all Aemond could feel was the weight of the past year pressing down on him. 

“You left me,” he spat out before he could help himself. It sounded like an accusation, like a wound that never healed. How could you?

“I did leave, yes,” you say tentatively, confused by the venom in his tone. “But I don’t think I left you.”

“What would you call it then?” His tone was bitter, bordering on desperate. 

“I moved away,” you shrugged. “It happens. Friends move away, they move on.”

“You weren’t supposed to,” he muttered. His hands clenched at his sides when what he truly wanted was to reach for you.  

“I had to,” you replied, your voice quieter. “It was the only way.” 

Aemond frowned, his gaze fixed on your face, searching for something he couldn’t quite name. "The only way for what?"

You spoke again, slower, “It was the only way to get over you.”

He was hanging by a thread, and right then, he became untethered.

“I loved you, Aemond,” you continued. “And I couldn’t just stay there and watch you be in love with someone else. I’m sorry, but I had to leave. It was the only thing I could do to save myself.”

Your words hit him like a blow. He stared at you, the one who had been everything to him once – his anchor, his confidante, the one constant in his life. If only he hadn’t been too goddamn stupid to realise it then.

You reached over and squeezed his hand. He looked down and without thinking, he interlaced his fingers with yours. He felt you hesitate for a moment – a brief second where you considered pulling away – before you gave in.

The old you wouldn’t have given it a second thought. The old you would have held onto Aemond with everything you had, believing that if you just stayed close enough, he’d realise what was right in front of him.

But you were different now. Everything was different – no sunshine, just grey – because you said that you loved him.

Loved. Not anymore.

The roles were reversed, and maybe he deserved it. The bitter irony wasn’t lost on him as you pulled your hand away, offering him a soft, understanding smile. 

“And Alys?” you asked suddenly, your voice gentle but curious. "How is she?”

He stiffened. A part of him thought that staying with Alys was his path forward, the thing that would make sense of the chaos in his life. But it hadn’t. Not really. 

“We’re not together anymore,” Aemond finally admitted.

You blinked, visibly surprised. “Oh. I’m… I’m so sorry, Aemond. I didn’t know.”

He let out a bitter chuckle, shaking his head. “There’s nothing to be sorry about. It wasn’t… meant to be.”

You studied him, your brows furrowing in concern. “Even so, I know it’s hard,” you said softly, your voice full of empathy. “Breakups are… They’re never easy. But there’s someone out there for everyone. I truly believe that. I mean… I found someone, didn’t I?”

His entire body tensed, his breath hitching as his mind tried to process the full weight of your statement. You had found someone. You had moved on. There was the proof, hitting him right in the face. 

He had lost you. For good.

“You… found someone,” he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper, as if saying it out loud would somehow make it more real.

“Yes. I did.” There was a tenderness in your voice, but it only twisted the knife deeper. “He’s wonderful, Aemond. He’s kind, supportive. I didn’t think I’d find something like this after – ” you paused, glancing away for a moment before meeting his gaze again, “after everything.”

“Are you in love?” The words came out before he could stop them, his voice tight with something like despair. He hated himself for asking, for needing to know, but the question was out there now, and he couldn’t take it back.

“Aemond.”

“Can you tell me this, at least? Do you… love him?”

There was a long pause, as if you were choosing your words carefully, and when you finally spoke, the answer was clear. “More than anything.”

You had become someone else’s sun. Someone else’s guiding light.

And he was the moon, forced to watch and drift in shadow. 

For the first time in his life, Aemond Targaryen understood what it meant to lose everything.

[lxvvie]

When you sit Alex down and tell him you want a divorce, it's crickets.

Silence. Absolute silence.

And then he scoffs, somewhere between disbelieving and amused by your joke, until he realizes it isn't a joke and those stormy blues are holding you in place with their intensity.

Keller looks at you, really looks at you. Looks at one eye and then the other, studying you, analyzing you, and after a minute, his brow furrowed some.

"You serious, Boss?" He expected a punchline, the other shoe to drop just short of its intended target like it always did, but all you did was bite your lip nervously and nod. A divorce. You wanted a divorce.

What the fuck?

Alex barked out a laugh. Short, forced, and maybe a little heartbroken if he's being honest but it's enough to get his point across. And then he's back looking at you again, really looking at you, taking you in, and—

"Good one, Boss."

It's like your words didn't really reach Alex at all. You swallowed that lump in your throat and tried again. "Alex, I'm serious—"

He got up and pressed a kiss to your temple. It was soft. He gave you another one on your cheek. It was equally soft. And they both ended the conversation.

"You're stuck with me, Boss," and Alex, your Alex, smiled, crinkles galore, all dashing, adorable, and lovestruck, the same smile that won you over and the same smile that would keep you. "Dinner's in five, okay?" Another kiss on your temple, quick and passing as Keller made his way to the kitchen. And there you were, left with your joke.

Good one, Boss.

[paimonial-rage]

parody - cyno

leftovers from the [random writing event]

“General Mahamatra,” you began one day on a patrol of Ardravi Valley. “Although there definitely are dangerous creatures in Sumeru, I have to say that a lot of them are quite cute, especially in groups. Do you know which one is the most affectionate?”

His brow furrowed in a way that made your heart soar. He was thinking about it! He was giving it honest thought! This was it! This was the moment you’d finally succeed.

“Affectionate? I suppose Shroomboars and Rishboland Tigers do take care of their young…” He mused.

You hummed.

“Well, I suppose so. But personally, I think it’s the fungi.”

His brow raised.

“Oh? Why is that?”

You spun around to face him with a playful grin on your face.

“Well, it’s because they love each other so mush!”

There it was! The punchline! The moment that you spent the past twelve hours waiting for! You set up the joke and he fell for it beautifully. It had everything he could ask for. A good build up! A great play on words. And a performance to boot. And thus here would be the moment. You would finally get him to–

“I see.” He began in thought with a hand against his chin. “You substituted ‘mush’ in mushroom for ‘much.’ Hmm… not even I thought about that.”

After he contemplated your joke for a few moments, your jaw dropped as he then took out a small notebook from his pocket and began jotting who knew what inside. The smile that joyously captured your expression from before soon began to twitch at the edges.

“W-Wasn’t it funny?” You asked hesitantly.

He looked up from his book and nodded with the straightest face imaginable.

“Extremely. I find it upsetting I didn’t think of it first. The whole matra has been getting better at jokes. If I’m not careful, I’ll have my title taken away from me.”

“But you’re… that wasn’t supposed to…” Your shoulders dropped. “Never mind…”

Never did you think a fun bet you made with the rest of the matra would be so difficult. It was such a simple thing too. The first person that got the General Mahamatra Cyno to laugh would have free drinks for a week. Nobody thought it would be that hard. Though he wasn’t the most expressive, he did love terrible jokes. Surely he would be happy to get a taste of his own medicine.

But much to your dismay, your lighthearted jokes only seemed to bother Mahamatra Cyno, as much as he told you otherwise. In the back of your mind, you knew the reason why he held onto jokes so much. He only started telling them to relax the rest of the Matra. Still, you wished your jokes would help him to relax too instead of making him feel like you were trying to take his place.

As he walked on ahead to scope out the rest of Pardis Dhyai, you hurried to catch up to him. One more joke. You would try one more joke until you called it quits.

“Out of all the forest animals, though,” you began. “I think I’d prefer to hang out with the mushrooms the most.”

He turned to you raising a brow, “‘Hang out?’ Don’t you think that’s a bit dangerous?”

You shrugged.

“Yeah, but they’re just such fungis. You know. Fun-guys?” You added with a wide smile at the end. But just like before, his expression turned to that of confusion, contemplation, then jealousy.

“First, be honest with me,” he began as he took your shoulders with a look of intensity upon his face. “Are you and the rest of the matra looking to replace me as the resident jokester? Because if so…”

He then dropped to his knees, prompting a gasp of shock from you.

“I will not take this standing–”

“What are you doing!” You exclaimed as you tried to pull him back up. “The General Mahamatra can’t kneel before a lowly matra. The ground is dirty too–”

He cleared his throat.

“I said, I will not take this standing.”

You stared at him.

He stared back.

You stared more.

He looked right back into your eyes.

“Do you get it? The reason why I sat is because–”

“Yeah, I get it,” you sighed. “Now stand up already, please. You’re making me uncomfortable.”

“You’re right,” he said with a nod as he stood. “I must always be outstanding in my field.”

You shook your head as you made your way forward, leaving your boss behind. You did your best to ignore the way frustration filled your gut. The fact that you almost laughed at his lame jokes only served to heighten your irritation. He wasn’t supposed to be making you laugh. You were supposed to be doing that to him. But instead of playing along, he got competitive and decided to one up you instead.

With the wind in your sails gone, you did your best to keep the pout from your lips as you continued on your patrol. You didn’t want to admit it, but you were irritated. With him. And with the way he noticed your irritation and was trying to appease you by burying you with even more lame jokes made your irritation even worse. By the end of the patrol, it was only inevitable that you were about ready to burst.

Thankfully, the General Mahamatra was not so obtuse so as to not catch onto the tension in the air.

“First,” he began at the end of the patrol, “I… apologize. I was trying to make you laugh, but it seems I’ve only accomplished the opposite. Forgive me.”

But somehow instead of calming you down, the apologetic expression on his face only threw you into even more of a frenzy.

“No, that’s not what I– Mahamatra Cyno, you– Why are you apologizing? I’m the one that should be apologizing!” You exclaimed. “This whole time I was trying to get you to laugh, but all I accomplished was making you upset. And then I got mad at you because you didn’t do what I wanted. I was the immature one in this situation!”

He paused.

“You… were trying to get me to laugh?”

You ran a hand through your hair in frustration.

“Me and the whole matra! At first it was for free drinks for a week, but we do genuinely want to make you laugh. You try so hard to make us feel comfortable, so we only wanted to do something for you in return. But…” You sighed as your shoulders dropped. “Who would’ve thought with all the bad jokes you enjoy telling, you don’t like them getting told to you in return.”

“So that’s why you all were telling me so many jokes this past week,” he hummed.

He glanced down as his hand went to his chin in thought. Then after a few moments, he looked back up with a resolute nod.

“Very well. Then for my fellow matra, I shall make more of an effort to laugh,” he announced.

“You can’t do that! We’ll know if you don’t mean it! We’ll be able to tell!!” You cried.

He nodded. “I see. Then I’ll study more jokes to learn what makes them so funny, then I’ll share them with the rest of you.”

Your jaw dropped.

“But you already do that!”

“If that’s the case… I’ll conduct a study with the rest of the matra to research what they find funny, analyze the findings, then fit them into the framework of my sense of humor. That should solve the problem, shouldn’t it?”

“Why would you– Do you even have the time to do all that work!? You shouldn’t be trying that hard just to make us happy! Besides, we–”

He chuckled.

“First, I’m joking.”

You froze.

“You… That’s not…” You turned away with a pout, ears burning. “That was a horrible joke.”

“But you made me laugh, didn’t you?”

You snorted.

“It wasn’t worth the amount of emotional turmoil you put me through. Wait till I let everyone know that the General Mahamatra’s sense of humor is bullying people,” you announced, stomping away, doing your best to ignore the way he was laughing behind you.

[primrosechronicles]

Sky Cotl x ISAT Fanfic!

Performance Guide and Siffrin (strictly platonic)

Summary: The performance guide and Their moth meet again Warnings: Nothing that I can think off...? Word Count: 1784 PART 2 HERE

You step into the backstage of the village theater, taking a moment to appreciate all the preparations you and your crew did to make the theater more accessible to both moths and citizens alike. It took a lot of hard work, from assembling the stage to ensuring the levers operated properly. Despite the challenges, it was all worth it for the grand opening of the theater. 

You carefully walk up the stairs behind the levers, with the lively chatter of your beloved crew filling your ears.

“Director!” The crew’s resident dancer quickly stands up and crosses the room towards you.

“Dancer.”  You greet back. a smile creeping up your face. “What are you guys doing?”

“Me and the crew were discussing some things to put in your comedy!”

You tilt your head curiously “Any particular reason why..?” 

“We, uh, wanted to shake off the nerves... You know, we're all pretty jittery about tomorrow…” They shake their head “And! And.. you looked like you had a hard time figuring out the punchlines..”

You smile and give them a pat on the shoulder “Thank you.. And to be honest I'm nervous as well…”

“Well let's be nervous together!” They giggle joyfully, grab your hand, and lead you toward the group.

You sit with your crew and you observe the Stagehand frantically calculating the materials needed for the props and your Storyteller conversing with the Musician, though they seem to forget that the comedy is a.. Comedy.

“How about you, Dancer? Do you plan on writing a play? I'm sure you would be very good at it.” You ask.

Your Dancer shakes their head “Oh no! I could never make a play as well as you or the storyteller…”

“Oh don't be modest, Dancer.. I'm sure whatever you write will be wonderful.”

They smile at you and go back to continue whatever they did before approaching you. You sigh contently, you love being like this, being surrounded by the people you love, you could live like this forever.

Hand in hand with your crew and cast members, you all bow. The sound of whistles, cheers and honks fills the ears of your cast. You look at your audience, their smiles fill you with joy as you are reminded of why you and your crew decided to make the theater.

Your Musician begins to play a mellow melody as your Stagehand hands you the mic. The rest of the cast quietly slips offstage.

“My beloved audience.. Welcome! To the village theater.” you pause then breathe in and out. “As I stand here before you, I'm filled with gratitude for your support and for the opportunity to bring stories to life on this stage.” 

You continue “This is a place to play many parts, whether it be to play music.. Or to dance… or to tell stories!” you turn to your crew and smile gratefully at them.

“This is the Season of Performance! So come and share your vision with us all!” The audience erupts into applause and cheers, giving your crew a successful opening night.

You smile as you and your Storyteller converse with the audience members.

“--And the part when the girl almost got caught by the krill! It was so terrifying I was at the edge of my seat!” You laugh in response “Hah! Yea, our musician did an amazing job on the music on that part!” “There was a krill part…?”

You smile wider as more audience members praise the work of you and your crew, but then something catches your eye in your peripheral vision. You take a closer look and notice a mother gesturing at you while her child, embarrassed, tries to run away. You deduct from the child's age that they’re a moth, but they aren’t dressed how moths usually look? Instead of the usual brown cape, it is replaced with a white one, with smooth ends instead of the uniform jagged edges that make it resemble actual wings. Two pins are placed just below their chin, pulling the whole look together.

You walk up to them and kneel to be at eye level with the kid. “Hello! Did you enjoy the show?” The child jumps slightly, startled, then slowly nods. “I did…”

Their mother whispers in their ear “Tell them what you told me.” The child looks at their mom, nodding with slightly more confidence. “Uhm! I wanna do what you do! I wanna make stories and-and! Pretend it on there!” The child slowly lifts a trembling finger to point towards the stage, their eyes shining with a nervous excitement.

You turn to the mother “Ma’am, are you perhaps from the village of dreams?”

“Oh no.. We're actually staying at a relative's house right now to check out the new season."

"For how long...?" you ask, as an idea begins to take shape in your mind.

“About 1 or 2 months, my relatives love having us around and they usually prepare for us to stay for 3 months but there's something urgent I have to get back to by then..”

You smile and turn back to the kid “Welcome to the Season of Performance” You slowly place the season pendant around their neck “I hope to see you often during the months that you're here?” The little moth nods furiously. “Yes!”

"Guys?! Where are you?! I have an idea!" you burst into the building, searching for your crew members. "We're on the second floor!" the familiar voice of your Dancer exclaims.

With a surge of adrenaline, you sprint up the stairs (that honestly looked like ramps instead of stairs) to the second floor, your fast footsteps echoing throughout the hall.

You reach the top of the stairs, where they're all gathered around the mini stage they've set up. You make eye contact with your crew’s Stagehand and they gesture for you to sit on the cushion next to them.

Tea in hand you breathe in and out, “Each season goes as follows: teach them some simple craft spells then the other stuff that's unique to each season” you smirk, gaining more confidence with your idea. "What about the “ stuff that's unique to each season “ part is a workshop for the moths! And… for people who are interested! We could teach them about theater, how to write a play, and everything else we do here. It would be a great way to share our passion and get more people involved."

Your crew members exchange eager glances, nodding in agreement.

"Yeah, that's a fantastic idea! I could teach them some sick riffs!" your Musician exclaims, playing their guitar with determination.

The Stagehand chimes in, "I could show them the ropes of stagecraft, from lighting to set design."

You turn to your crew's Storyteller, who smiles warmly. "I'll help them find their voices and tell their stories."

"I can lead sessions on movement and expression," the Dancer suggests. "I can teach participants how to use their bodies to tell stories and convey emotions on stage."

The excitement in the room is palpable as everyone starts brainstorming ideas for the workshop. You can already picture the theater bustling with little moths, eager to learn and create.“This is a great idea Director! Where’d you get the inspiration?” Your Stagehand asks you.

Your thoughts go back to that moth earlier, you smile warmly thinking of them “Just an idea i had..”

After a week of planning with your crew, the workshop is finally ready.

After a comedy skit performed by some members of the Season of Dreams you go up on stage mic in hand.

“Okay guys announcement! So, first of all, thank you so much for your creative And hilarious—” you wink at the Season of Dreams members “---Plays!”

"Now, as everybody knows, every single season has its events themed after, well.. The seasons theme!”

"So… without further ado, we are thrilled to announce our upcoming workshop series," you continue, your voice filled with enthusiasm. "Starting next week, we'll be hosting a series of sessions right here at the village theater. We'll cover everything from writing your own play to stagecraft, movement, and more!"

A wave of excitement washes over the audience as you outline the workshop's details. Your crew members stand beside you, beaming at the enthusiasm of the audience members"We want to invite all of you to join us," you say, scanning the crowd warmly. "Whether you're a seasoned playwright or a parent wanting your little moth to experience new things—” You wave towards the familiar moth and their mother “---this workshop is for you. Let's come together and create something magical!"

The applause and cheers that follow are filling you with a sense of accomplishment and joy. You glance over at your crew, sharing a proud and excited look. Then you look over to the moth that started it all, you see them look at you with wonder in their eyes, fiddling with their season pendant. You wink at them, they give you an attempt-wink back.

You walk through the excited crowd trying to reach that little moth and their mom. They spot you approaching and their faces light up with anticipation.

"Hi ma’am! Little moth!" you greet them warmly, kneeling down to the moth’s eye level. "I'm so glad you're here. Are you excited about the workshop?"

The child nods eagerly, a shy smile playing on their lips. Their mom smiles gratefully at you.

"I think it's going to be a lot of fun," you continue, glancing between them. "We have so many exciting things planned, like learning how to write plays, creating characters, and even some dancing!"

The child's eyes widen in excitement at the mention of dancing. "Can we really dance like the actors did?" they ask eagerly."Absolutely! Our Dancer is going to show us all how to move and express ourselves on stage. It's going to be fantastic!" you reply with a chuckle.

You thought a bit and realized… “Hey, i never got your name!” They look back at you and give you a smile you will remember for decades “It’s ____—”

You wake up to the chatter of your beloved crew. “Director! Thank the stars you’re awake!” You are then squished by the weight of your crew hugging you “We were so worried!” “You won't believe what happened!” “you were out for multiple—”

You shout, overwhelmed by the voices. “Guys! One at a time what happened?” Your Dancer looks at you with an expression you have never seen them wear. “Well—” “Director?”

You all turn to the unfamiliar voice, five figures fill your vision, four foreigners and one… Wait a minute… white cape with smooth ends… Two pins placed below their chin… Thats the— “_____?”

A/N: IM FINISHED!! yay,,, this took me like two drinks of mountain jew and! a couple of days..

So for my Sky: Cotl audience, the moth in the fic is the main character from In stars and time and the Fic was inspired by @kyri45 who did a wonderful job on her cross AU of the two games!

For my ISAT audience the fic is set in the game called "sky children of the light"

@kyri45 I HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS! your au really got my brain tickled!! thank you for re-igniting my sky grind and thank you for feeding me with ur yummy AU

[justwinginglife]

Lighthouse

25 Days of Simpmas: Day Two December 2nd: Itsuomi Nagi, Rank 24 Anime: A Sign of Affection Event Masterlist

“Welcome home, Itsuomi.”

He’d heard it a thousand times yet the beating in his chest still resumed the same erratic rhythm that it always did whenever you said it. The first time that you’d welcomed him home, he nearly had a heart attack. Though you’d both agreed to be roommates (because travel was expensive and he needed someone to split the cost of living with him), he hadn’t expected to have much interaction with you beyond signing his name beside yours on the lease, so imagine his surprise when you greeted him at the door, opening it for him before he even had a chance to touch the knob, like you’d been eagerly waiting (when he asked about it later, you simply answered that you remembered the day he said he’d come home and you calculated the time it would take -plus traffic- to get from the airport to the apartment and then just watched from the peephole for his approaching figure), with your apron wrapped hastily around you and a dash of flour speckled across your rosy cheeks, exclaiming “Welcome home, Itsuomi!” as you happily presented him with a newly baked pie. Looking at you, he wondered to himself if a marching band had suddenly taken up residence inside his heart because he felt something trumpeting in his chest. 

He shook the feeling aside, assuming your welcoming party was nothing more than obligatory pleasantries but was it just pleasantry when he came back from Vietnam and you baked him a cake and was it just pleasantry when he came back from Denmark and you cooked him a steak dinner and was it just pleasantry the way you listened to his stories with eyes like the stars and a smile like the sun?

And when he’d think of you overseas, buying you souvenirs, and when he’d start taking earlier flights home just to see you sooner, and when he pictured what you’d be holding at the door, what you’d be wearing to welcome him home, was it just pleasantries then?

For someone who loved travel, who loved exploring the world, he was starting to love coming home the most. 

He’d never give up traveling altogether, but lately he’d started spacing his trips farther apart so he had more time with you. At first, he barely noticed this new habit of his. He’d think to himself, I can’t leave this week, it’s her birthday, and then postpone his trip, or he’d think, I should wait until exams are over, she might need help with studying, and that was another trip delayed. Then he actively began to put off leaving, opting to make a million plans with you instead. 

Yeah, he wanted to go to Iceland, but he also wanted to go ice skating with you. 

Yeah, he wanted to go to Mexico, but he also wanted to take you out dancing.

Yeah, he wanted to go to Singapore, but he also wanted to sing karaoke with you.

Your favorite show released new episodes on Fridays and he loved to watch it with you. He loved the way you laughed at the punchlines, loved the way you clutched his arm when you were in suspense, loved the way you rested a hand on your heart during wholesome moments. So he couldn’t possibly leave on a Friday.

You had classes on Mondays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays, and you hated waking up early for them. If there was one thing Itsumi knew about you, it was that you were not a morning person. So he took it upon himself to wake you up each morning, tempting you with his fresh, homemade breakfast. It was the only thing that made you actually want to get out of bed in the morning. So he couldn’t fly off and leave you hanging, not when you were counting on him. And if he was honest, he liked you waking up to him. And if you were honest, you liked waking up to him. 

So he couldn’t leave. 

And then, one day, he started to wonder if maybe he would just stay here for good, if maybe he would just stay here forever. He’d never imagined himself being bound to Japan, never thought himself the type to be content to settle down so quickly, but maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if you were here to keep him company. 

So he didn’t leave. He didn’t leave for a while. 

If you had noticed it’d been awhile since his last trip, you didn’t let on that you had. Didn’t want to remind him that he could be overseas right now, enjoying croissants in Paris or enjoying tea in London. Didn’t want to remind him of the mundanity of simply spending his days washing dishes beside you, splitting take out when you were both too lazy to cook, and then conking out on the couch for a much deserved nap when hard days of studying had finally caught up to you both. But to him, it was all these little things, it was the act of simply existing beside you that made him so happy.

There was nothing he wanted more than to admire the sight of you looking cute and cozy in your pajamas, or inhale the sweet scent of your perfume as you lounged beside him, or listen to you hum to yourself while you did your chores. And there was no one he wanted more than you. 

In fact, he’d just made up his mind to tell you how he felt when he got a call from his family back in Germany. At this point, he’d suspended his travels for the better part of a year now and had been contemplating suspending them even longer, but now his mother wasn’t feeling well. It was no longer an option to stay cooped up in Japan, not when his mother needed him. Before you’d even blinked, he had already packed his bags and was on the next flight out.

When he got to his family’s home in Germany, it turned out his mother had just been suffering from a case of missing her only son. After properly scolding her for misusing the word “emergency,” he made the decision to stay the rest of the week with her and make up for lost time. He was eager to get back to you, but he also hadn’t seen his family in awhile and wanted to make the most out of this “emergency visit.” 

Eventually, a week passed, and after thinking of you the whole flight back, he finally made it home. But you weren’t there to greet him. 

He waited at the door, brows furrowed, hand twitching at his side as he contemplated reaching for the knob that made no signs of turning and opening for him anytime soon. Were you just late? If he opened the door himself, would you fault him? Would you pout and threaten to withhold the dessert you’d just made for him? He smiled to himself at the thought. Then, a moment later, he sighed, and unlocked the door. 

When he got inside, a grim sight awaited him. The lights had been turned off, the apartment was empty, and you were nowhere to be found. In fact, everything was almost as it had been when he left. Had you not been home all week? Were you going to return anytime soon? He sunk into the couch and pondered where you could’ve been. After several, achingly arduous hours of wondering -it had been five minutes, time just felt like an eternity when you weren’t there to pass it with him- he suddenly recalled a faint memory of you telling him you’d be out of town this week too. He’d been so preoccupied with his mother’s health as he’d hurriedly jammed his things into his bag that he’d barely processed you telling him that you wouldn’t be back for two weeks. 

Well, now what?

What the hell was he supposed to do without you? Watch TV by himself? He’d miss your commentary. Eat dinner by himself? He’d miss you stealing food off his plate. Go to the store by himself? He’d miss you trying to sneak things into the shopping cart. And how the hell was he supposed to recover from this single incident of you not welcoming him home? He’d pictured what shirt you’d be wearing, what pants you’d be wearing, how your hair would look, when you finally opened the door to let him in. He’d imagined the sound of your excited voice and the smell of the newly baked cake he assumed you’d made for him. He’d thought of everything down to the last detail and now you weren’t here. He never imagined that you wouldn’t be here one day. He never imagined that he’d have to live life without you. How was he going to survive?

The next week was a bore. A complete and utter bore. 

He memorized points of uneven paint on the trim lining the apartment, he picked at threads fraying at the edge of your decorative pillows, he daydreamed about all the things you could be doing right now and how he wished he could be doing them with you. Hell, he even contemplated asking where you were and showing up on the spot. But he knew he was being ridiculous. He’d sit and wait here, and welcome you home, just like you’d done for him all those times before, and then everything would be alright again once you were beside him. Everything would be alright. You’d come home eventually, you’d come home. And he’d welcome you. 

He sat up straight on the couch.

He’d welcome you. Yeah, that’s what he would do. Where did you stash those cake recipes? He’d never baked a cake before, but the least he could do was try. And when you finally walked through the door, he’d present you with the most gorgeous looking cake the world had ever known. That is, if he could figure out how to bake one. 

He spent hours digging broken eggshells out of batter, cleaning up spilled milk, brushing flour off his cheeks and rinsing butter off his fingers. Several attempts later, he finally got a text from him that you had landed at the airport and were waiting for your baggage. And now he only had one more try to get it right. 

When he figured you were getting closer to home, he planted himself in front of the door, and glued his eyes to the peephole. He felt strange doing the same thing he was sure you’d been doing all these times you’d welcomed him home, but it also made him feel happy to know he was finally sharing the experience with you. Welcoming you home was almost as much of a joy as being welcomed home. Almost. He didn’t think his cake could ever compare to yours. 

Suddenly, he heard footsteps climbing the stairs and before he knew it, your head popped into view. Your gorgeous curls. Curls he missed playing with. He was so distracted watching you, he almost forgot to open the door. But he did. He yanked it open. Almost ripped it off its hinges. 

“Welcome home!” He exclaimed. 

And you smiled. And god, when you smiled, his heart skipped its way through heaven’s gates. 

“Itsuomi,” You laughed, “You have powdered sugar on your nose.” You stepped inside and wiped it clean with the tip of your finger. He wished you’d touch him longer. He wanted to tell you that you could touch him longer. But then your eyes landed on the cake on the kitchen counter. The five tiered cake. He didn’t know how many tiers a cake was supposed to have. He’d missed you so much, he got distracted making layers upon layers of cake. Had he done it wrong?

You laughed again and he wanted to get drunk on the sound. “Itsuomi, you know there’s only two of us. How are we supposed to finish all this cake?” You teased, but then you reached over to squeeze his hand, whispering “Thanks,”  and his nerves eased. He knew you loved it. Maybe you could even love him.

“Let’s go out.” He blurted out suddenly.

A smile burst across your face, but you quickly turned to cut yourself a piece of cake so he couldn’t see your face. “Yeah, you think we should? What brought that on?” 

His posture shifted. “Missed you. Too much, really. I know I’m gone a lot, but I can’t stand when you’re gone. I’ll stay more. I’ll stay forever. I won’t leave again, just go out with me.”

“Shh.” You shoved a forkful of cake into his mouth, much to his surprise. Then you slipped your newly purchased passport into his hand and his eyes widened further. “I’ll do you one better. I’ll go more. I’ll go with you wherever, forever.” You knew he was a traveler, that’s just who he was, that’s what made him Itsuomi. But you loved Itsuomi, and you’d never make him stay, you’d never make him become something he wasn’t. So you’d meet him in the middle.  “So yes, Itsuomi, I’ll go out with you. I’ll go with you when you want me to go, and I’ll be your home when you want to come home. I’ll be all yours.”

He knew you just told him everything he’d ever wanted to hear, he knew you’d just given him permission to be himself, to go when he wanted to go, but god, right now all he wanted to do was stay. Stay in your arms. 

All these years, he’d spent traveling, searching for adventure, searching for excitement, searching for purpose, barely stopping, barely settling, like a Captain drawn to treasure, like a ship wandering the world, but now he found that the greatest adventure was to be by your side, the greatest excitement was to be found in your eyes, and the greatest purpose was to love and be loved by your heart. 

All these years, he’d been lost to the seas, but now you were his lighthouse, and you were guiding him home. 

Taglist: @pixelcafe-network @minasfwoopyponytail @ouiouimochi @inkytypewriter

[kanmom51]

JK live 21 July 2023 London - Part 2

cr./to the creators of the content used in this post.

How do you start a part two of such a hugely significant live?

I guess I'll continue straight from where I left off.

JK has changed, is changing, and he wants us to understand it and accept it.

JK talks about how he got his courage from us and he wants to use it to try new things, that might make army uncomfortable, so he wants to find a way to do these things but also take army into consideration because he feels like he is not alone in this, he's with us. So he wants to communicate openly with us as a friend, bringing up suggestions as to what next, laughing saying without it being a spoiler.

And he goes on...

And here's the punchline.

This is him saying: it's not all about you. As much as I love you army, this here is also about what I want and what I need to make me happy!!!

And here am I wondering if he’s only talking about the creative process.  Because to me this feels like him also telling the fandom that there are boundaries.  Boundaries to which they can expect or demand things of him.  That he too needs to be happy within this relationship with army.  And that army needs to respect that as well.

This here folks is him cutting ties with his idol identity.

He's not disconnecting from army, not at all. He's also not saying "it's all about me and my happiness", but he is saying to us "it's not all about you anymore - this is me, I'm a real person, I deserve to be happy as well. See me, acknowledge me, let me be me and be happy, and we, Jungkook and army, will find our happiness together."

JK reads one of the comments asking him if he is crying.  He answers that he is not but he is clearly emotional and continues to say that as a 25 yo man :

He struggles to find the words, but he wants us to be understanding towards him.

As you see, JK is continuously drawing that line. The one between those that love him, and he loves them back, and those that hate him, don't see him for who he is. For those that love him, he wants to give his all, and within that relationship he wants to be honest and open and natural - a friendship with us.

And this is a sentiment that is on repeat throughout the live.

Again JK talks about army cheering him on, and having to repay army but:

This live, what he was talking about, it was important army all over the world will see – hear what he is telling us.

JK talks a little about deleting IG.  Tries very diplomatically not to dis IG, but in ever so many words says that the way to show himself honestly was in the lives, even that side of him (talking about being drunk).  Not flawless. HUMAN. REAL. (less company control – this is me talking not JK).

Again, the real person JK, not the idol JK.

Thing is, in all that talk about deleting his IG account all JK did was explain why he preferred the lives, and not why he went and deleted an account with over 50 million followers, lol.

But what he’s saying is that he wants a direct line to his fans. And he thinks he can achieve it with the lives.

And there you have it folks.  The company being Hybe, not BH.  BH are the boys.  Hybe is “The company” that is trying to impose what they think the boys should be, what they should sing about, what their image needs to be, all to be able to capitalize on them as much as they can until they enlist and until their contracts are back up for negotiation.  JK has shown us in the past few months, starting with his late night lives, his deleting the IG account, the JM promotion lives, that he is done with it.  Done with what “the company” wants or expects of him.  And he wants to care even less about what the company thinks or wants of him.

Again.  Comfortable.

We talked about what that means, didn’t we?

When are you most at comfort?�� When you are being yourself!  No walls, no masks, no hiding, no omitting or lying.  Being yourself.

Again talking about the friendship relationship with army…walking down the street meeting up…

JK brings up again people criticising him for doing the lives while drunk – so what? And then he goes on to talk about an interview he did in the past - he knows there are those that care about him, for them he will give his all.

JK, well aware of the voices, those that don’t like him, those that criticize him, those that hate him:

Just JK saying fuck all the ops in his very nice and polite way.

Piss off, fuck off is what he wants to say, but he's too nice, too polite to say it. He is definitely a much better person than myself, because I will very loudly and bluntly tell them just that. To fuck the hell off, go live their lives and leave him and JM alone. And that includes those that claim to care about JM and go on to back JK, because they are just as bad if not worse than 'the others'.

So if, by any chance, what JK is saying is lost in translation for those antis, then here it is:

FUCK YOU HATERS!!!

Another proud moment right there!!

Funny bunny asks for permission to go to the restroom, lol.

But before he goes,

And there you have it. 

If you were thinking for one second that I was talking out of my ass in part 1 about him having notes. He came prepared. He had things he wanted to say. Things he HAD to say, and he wanted to make sure he said it all.

JK’s back for the toilet, yay.

JK telling us, once again, he loves us.  And he sincerely does.  That’s just who JK is. People need to listen to what he tells us, not only now, but over the years what he told us too.

This here is something that made me sad:

Him saying “if I don’t get strong the reason that I am loved or cheered for disappears”.  But he also says that is what he’s communicating with us about and that we will get stronger together.  I feel like this is him talking about growing together. He's changing, he understands that the fandom will have to change as well. If army have the same expectations they had of him only a couple of years ago, well that won't work. He's grown, he's different, he wants different things for himself, and army needs to recognize that, accept it and grow from there together with him.

JK again, talking about wanting to have drinks with army.  Man is on a mission, lol.

He wants his own Suchwita style show, only with army, lol.  But the company, that is literally terrified of him, will be monitoring (he knows what he knows, lmao).

He’s asked in the comments if he would be able to handle drunk army, only to ask in return if army will be able to handle him, to which he answers that he doesn’t think they would, lol.

This JK too.

Getting comfortable while talking again about being himself during lives, even if he makes mistakes or disappoints army.  This is him.  He takes responsibility for his actions. 

"Someone who is really nice and proper..."

"Those people..."

Again JK defining the people that he cares for, as such.

Continues that he hopes army are healthy and those they care for are too. That he hopes they are happy and healthy and that “you have a lot of happy moments in life”.

But notice, this is about “good” people. 

So he's really saying that army to him, those are the good people. Those ones, he wants them to be happy.

The others, the haters, they for him are not army. He doesn't say what he wants for them, but he definitely does not wish them happiness as he does for the "nice people".

He thinks he will have to work to find that too – happiness. That is such a mature way of thinking.  Because yes, happiness, lasting happiness is not something that is given to us, it’s something that we need to earn, to work hard for, and to continue to work in retaining it.

So, towards the end is when he lands the final blow.  A big one.

"Anyways this Jungkook that you love, I hope to live up to that."

like “Oh? This isn’t the Jungkook that I know”

"Yeah, that's ok...I'm going to live my life properly."

He struggles a little with how to say it, can’t talk dirty, doesn’t want to be too nice…

At this point he has a little trouble organizing his thoughts.

He wants to live life free and fun, for himself and army.

Again the word comfortable is brought up.

That moment there literally broke my heart into tiny little pieces. It's not just the realisation that JK knows that there are people out there that hate him, it's the "there's a lot of people that hate me..." and repeating it again "there's a lot of people"...

Why anyone should have to go through life feeling hated by others, strangers, people that don't know him at all, people that make assumptions about him, people that tell lies about who he is. People that write vile hateful things about him. No one should have to go through that. But JK, humble, big hearted, loving, talented, amazing, precious man that he is, most certainly shouldn't be dealing with so much vile hate against him.

I see him seeing it. The hate towards JM and himself. I see JM seeing it. JM is silent, he just withdrew, he doesn't share his thought with us like JK does. So I'm living through JK and his hurt and disappointment. And I know that this is how JM feels as well. Like I said, no one deserves this, but those two especially don't. And it's just heartbreaking to see they know it all, and those that think they don't or that they aren't hurt to their core by it are living in denial. 

JK and JM may not see posts like these:

But they most certainly see people that express sentiments like that and worse.

I chose to link this one I just happened to come by and that infuriated me, because of how fucking ridiculous that ask was. JK ungrateful. JK arrogant, full of himself. That there are actually people that think this. To people like that, people that put these words to paper without having the basic decency to go and watch content, see what JK talks about, read what he says, go see what others that work with him NOW say about him: humble, talented, work ethic, perfectionist, soft exterior, kind and so much more, I say go fucking watch his live and count how many times he says he's grateful for army. Thankful for army. This is the ONLY member that has torn down that wall between himself and army and literally voices wanting to be friends with us, and you call him arrogant and full of himself? What planet are these people living on?

So yeah, these sentiments and way worse, they see them. They see it all!

Again, he wanted to tell us things, he came with a plan in mind.

Ok, JK at the end, the whole goodbye was hilarious. We needed some mood lightening, lol.

Time to sum it all up.

Theme throughout the live: gratefulness, thankfulness, please understand me and accept me for who I am.

Words repeated throughout the live: army, grateful, fun, happy, friend, natural, comfortable.

JK was open and sincere and very drunk. Like his drunk sleeping live is nothing compared to how drunk he was in this live. He did tell us he was out celebrating with the staff the end of his promotions and that he was drinking hard, lol.

He was also all over the place.  But I’m attributing that to his neuro-divergency.  If it wasn’t apparent up till now (let’s be honest, JK screams neuro-divergent), then the live was just so clear.  He had things to say, but you could see how he was getting distracted, couldn’t keep on track, and although liquid courage is good at times, in this case, perhaps too much of it, felt like it had the opposite effect on him. 

So on the one hand we had a drunk JK who wanted to tell us stuff, really wanted to get things off his chest. And on the other hand, a little too drunk to articulate what he wanted to say. And that's why he was a little all over the place, lol. But he's such a precious soul, and he only ever means good. Even with those that mean him harm. When talking about those that hate him, not a bad word from his mouth, even with a loosened tongue, but you could see the hurt in his face.

So what did JK say?

He loves army.

He made that abundantly clear.

No matter what, army has been by his side for 10 years supporting him even more than his own parents (he apologised to his parents for voicing this sentiment).

He wants to be friends with army.  Drink together, eat together, meet on the street and say hi casually.  Basically friend zoning army.

He isn’t a child anymore, he is an adult and he’s growing still and changing still. 

He is going to continue to do things according to his gut feelings.

And with all of that change, he’s trying to tell us that he wants us to continue and be by his side.  Continue to trust him and love him and support him even if he’s not exactly the same JK that debuted years ago.

JK establishing this friendship between himself and army and asking for us to continue to accept him and love him even if he changes, but also know that even if there are those that don’t accept it, that is not going to stop him changing. 

He wants us to know who the true JK is, even knowing there are those that don’t accept him, don’t wish him well and even hate him.  That is not going to stop him being true to himself.

And no matter who he becomes or no matter what and how much he reveals of himself, army are a part of him, and he loves them so much.

The comment with the parents it’s about showing army just how much he appreciates them standing by him, supporting him even more than his parents did since debut (he apologises to his parents for saying that). 

He needs people to see him as a grown up.  Not the maknae anymore.  Yes he’s the youngest in the group, but hardly the youngest idol out there, and it’s time for army to acknowledge that.  He needs for them to acknowledge that.  Acknowledge he’s a grown up. Acknowledge he’s an artist.  Acknowledge he is making his own artistic decisions.  Some may be right some may be wrong, but he is taking ownership over them.

He is disconnecting himself from his idol identity. He is a person, an artist, and not something that is there to fulfill the fans wants, needs, fantasies. He wants army to be happy but it's a two way street. Army needs to understand he wants and needs to be happy as well. And we can achieve that happiness together.

Another thing that came to mind was separating himself, who he is, from the others. 

And you can like or dislike what he does. It’s ok to criticise as well.  As long is it’s not malicious.  He understand that not everyone will agree with him or like what he is doing.  Just like friends don’t always agree on stuff.  All within the boundaries of appropriate discussion and no hateful behaviour.

In a way it’s a turning point for his relationship with army:

I love you. I want to continue and be friends with you. But not only have I changed and I am changing, there are parts of me you don’t know just yet, parts that I want to reveal to you as well.  And I want you to continue to love the new me.  But if you can’t, it’s ok, we don’t have to continue to be friends anymore. 

Those that care for me I care for them too.  Those that hate me, let them live their lives…

This is JK asserting himself as an individual, a mature young man and artist as of his own.  He is part of BTS, but BTS is not all that he is.  Kind of like a teenager asserting their independence within their family.  And he loves his family (army in this case), he still wants to be part of it, but he also needs to find his own path, be allowed his independence and be allowed to find his own happiness. If he's happy, so will his family be. And this here most definitley isn't only about his music or professional decisions!!

Something is coming. I just feel it in my bones.

[tinytinyblogs]

Hyungwon As Your Boyfriend

Boyfriend

(n.) A person who 90% of the time annoy you, and 10% of the time makes you forget the 90%

Monsta x masterlist here

Hyungwon loves to cuddle on his lazy days. He would spend the whole day laying in bed, refusing to let me go. "We should stay like this all day," he would say, his voice muffled by your chest. He would wrap his arms tightly around you, and you could feel his breath on your neck. You didn't mind, you loved cuddling with Hyungwon too. It was so nice to just relax and not have to do anything. Sometimes, you would have to get up to go to the bathroom or get something to eat. But every time you did, Hyungwon would whine and complain.

You've been a fan of Hyungwon for years, so you're thrilled when you have the opportunity to take his photo. He's one of those models who always looks good in every photo, no matter what the pose or the lighting. You know that you have to do your best to capture his natural beauty and charisma. You want to take photos that will make him look even more amazing than he already does. You take hundreds of photos that day. But when you're finished, you know that you've captured something special. The photos are beautiful, and they really capture Hyungwon's personality.

Hyungwon can be a handful sometimes. He'll run around with a huge grin on his face, telling you dad jokes and laughing at his own punchlines. It can be hard to keep up with him, and sometimes you just need to calm him down. But don't worry, he'll usually stop once his battery gets low. He's just a high-energy person, and he needs to burn off some steam.

You didn't know that his lockscreen was your pictures until one day you randomly grabbed his phone to see what time it was. You were surprised to see a slideshow of your photos, all of you smiling and laughing together. You couldn't help but smile yourself. It was so sweet of him to make your pictures his lockscreen. You felt so loved and appreciated. You decided to tease him about it all day. You would randomly grab his phone and look at the lockscreen, then you would wink at him and say, "I see you've been thinking about me." He would blush and try to hide his phone from you, but you were relentless. You teased him until he finally gave in and gave you a kiss.

And he ended up showing you all your photos on his phone, you didn't even know when he took them. You were surprised to see so many photos of you. There were photos of you laughing, of you sleeping, of you just being yourself. He told you that he took the photos because he loved looking at you. He said that you were the most beautiful person he had ever seen, and he wanted to capture your beauty in every way he could. You were flattered and touched. You had never thought of yourself as beautiful, but seeing all these photos of you made you realize that you were. You spent the rest of the day looking at the photos. You laughed at the silly ones, and you smiled at the sweet ones. You were so happy that he had taken these photos of you. It was a reminder of how much he loved you, and how much he cherished your relationship.

Hyungwon loved helping you with your clothes. He always had a keen eye for fashion, and he loved seeing you look your best. He would often help you pick out outfits, and he would always give you his honest opinion. He was never afraid to tell you if something didn't look good on you, but he always did it in a way that was respectful and helpful. Thanks to Hyungwon, you always looked your best when you went out. He knew how to flatter your figure, and he always made sure that you felt confident and beautiful. One day, you were getting ready to go out, and you were feeling a little self-conscious about your outfit. You asked Hyungwon if he thought it looked okay, and he smiled and said, "Honestly, you always look beautiful, so don't worry about anything." He told you that he loved the way you looked in whatever you wore, and that he thought you were the most beautiful human in the world.

Boyfriend Hyungwon is always there to remind you that he loves you. He tells you every day how much you mean to him, and how lucky he is to have you in his life. He always makes sure that you know that you deserve to be loved and cherished. He tells you that you are the most beautiful, intelligent, and kind-hearted person he knows. He also takes care of you in every way. He makes sure that you are always happy and comfortable. He does things like cook you dinner, give you massages, and run errands for you. He is also very romantic. He loves to surprise you with flowers, gifts, and thoughtful gestures. He always knows how to make you feel special.

[amethystina]

Hello !!! I hope u r well and recovering 💘

Fir the ask game: 🤡❌️👀

Unfortunately, things are still pretty rough but I'm hanging in there :)

🤡 What’s a line, scene, or exchange you’ve written that made you laugh?

I'm not sure if there is such a line, to be honest. Mainly because most of the things I write aren't all that funny, but also because it takes a lot for me to laugh when it's my own writing. Because I already know the punchline before the joke's even started, so it's just not that exciting. If that makes sense?

That said, Yoon Sa Wol from Black Knight is an absolute hoot to write and there is one exchange in particular that definitely makes me want to cackle whenever I think about it. It's when he's talking to 4-1 (a coworker of his) and they accidentally stumble onto the subject of whether or not Sa Wol could have sex with 5-8 (the dude he is definitely interested in having sex with) and the following happens:

All things considered, it didn't seem like a bad idea at all. 4-1 didn't seem to agree. She gave him a flat look, as if the answer should be obvious. "He'd eat you for breakfast." Sa Wol paused for a beat but, really, the only thing he could think to say was: "I mean, wouldn't that be the whole point?" 4-1 let out a choked noise that sounded outright painful.

SA WOL, NO.

But also, kudos on being so goddamn shameless.

❌ What’s a trope you will never write?

I'm not sure if there is one? Because, sure, I'm not personally into mpreg or A/B/O but I can't say I'll never write them. Like, if someone gave me enough money to write those tropes, I probably would. We get money where we can in this economy xD

I think the closest I come to a complete "I refuse to write this" are the things I find triggering or just don't agree with on a moral level. So I'd have a hard time glorifying abuse, for example, or write something that involves incest or non-con between a romantic couple. The kind where transgressions are eventually forgiven or brushed aside because "they actually love them and it was just a mistake" and that kind of stuff.

There's a reason why I'm so determined to call out Yo Han's bullshit in my Devil Judge fics, for example, and why Moon Jo is such a lovesick simp in my Strangers From Hell fic. I find them to be incredibly fascinating as characters, but I admit I would never be able to write them doing something along those lines. They both skirt the line from time to time — which is sort of the point in some ways — but I try to criticise the behaviour rather than excuse or glorify it.

👀 Tell me about an up and coming wip please!

I kind of mentioned all of them when I did the WIP Tag Game not too long ago, so you can see what they are and read about them if you look at this tag right here!

But aside from that, I can say that I'm currently trying to edit and post chapter six of A New Dawn (Begins With Us), and, after that, I'm going to try and edit chapter 3 of The Right Set of Circumstances, and, after that, I... well, I don't know x'D I'll either try to edit Thou Shalt Not Covet or maybe I'll allow myself to write chapter 42 of Who Holds the Devil.

I'm kind of holding that chapter hostage right now since I HATE editing and would much rather write — it's just so much more fun. But if I only wrote and didn't edit, I would never post anything, so I kind of have to force myself to edit from time to time, too.

And it's extra annoying right now since I'm so feverish and that just makes editing ten times worse for some reason?

So yeah. I have a lot going on right now in terms of WIPs and it's kind of beginning to feel like a second job, not going to lie x'D

Thank you so much for the ask! :D

Fanfic Writer Emoji Ask

[thepotatochipgirl]

Okay so I just rent on a rant to my sister about Teen Titans Go and I figured I’d post it here cause yeah um.

ALSO IF YOUR A FAN OF THE SHOW THATS TOTALLY OKAY BUT IM NOT GONNA BE TALKING POSITIVELY ABOUT IT SO JUST A HEADS UP!!!!!

Okay so basically I really, REALLY hate it. Like I’ll be honest I’ve seen some really funny shit from it that has made me laugh out loud but that doesn’t excuse everything else. The entirety of the show just feels like one big mockery of the original and they degrade and scrape every character into a joke and it’s so fucking humiliating.

Like I’ll be honest the original was better, and I know I sound like one of those people who can’t appreciate new things but I do feel like we can make a new generation of Teen Titans without it being just pure brain rot. Like we don’t need it to be brain rot at all. And I get that the show also talks about real world stuff and important things in real life like taxes and such but that doesn’t make up for all the fart jokes (everything in this show is just a punchline at some point I’m sorry).

And I HATEEE how they did the characters it’s just so UGH. Its just really sad. I really hate how they did Cyborgs character the most because he was so cool and the mature but fun who was actually really smart and strong (they also could’ve given him more screen time and love in the original). The show also weirdly sexualize Starfire and Raven and it’s like whyyyy why would you do that.

And I’m not saying the original show was perfect, because nothing is perfect. The OG had plenty of flaws but it was still really cool and it was dark and edgy but made for older kids and was just entertaining in general.

ALSO THE STUPID GRRR the designs in the DC Superhero Girls is just. What. They somehow manage to make a bigger mockery of these character and it’s like, they use to be so cool and fun. Im sorry, I don’t want to be to hateful.

So final thought, I think DC is just kinda going downhill, especially with the new fart fetish comic they’re releasing. The same thing goes with Marvel as well. Both companies ran out of ideas for they’re stories so they either reuse content or turn it into fast brain rot and they keep pumping these movies and episodes out by the minute without any love or care because it gets them money faster. And I’m so sad to see both of my favorites superhero franchises turn more and more into heartless, soulless, greedy businesses. I know I sound like a hippy but I grew up with this kind of stuff and I love love love superhero’s so much, I just hope it gets better.

Sorry if this was super long uh yeah thanks for reading :D

[trashogram]

With our conversation in the comments, I figured it might be best to put this one in ask form XD so here goes;

Your latest comment really got me thinking. I actually hadn't considered this before! And it just clicked.

And it makes sense, too. Since toon physics can still overwhelm human physics despite them coming into our world. And we see how toon logic can still be used either against them or for them, usually resulting in what would be a punchline in a cartoon, but wouldn't work at all among humans.

From what we see in toontown, they look to be being of chaos (I know that sounds ridiculous. This is the best phrase I could think of 😅). They thrive in it, they work with it, all of it. And chaos can just- do whatever it wants. And since we plainly see toons being able to do whatever they want (to an extent. Like the weasels couldn't just stop laughing when they felt like it), it'd make sense if they had some kind of way to control their little reality to benefit them in some way. Usually for comedy like you said, but they can easily use this in romance or other aspects of life, too. (I'm genuinely so excited! This never occurred to me, and after you said it just makes so much more sense now. So many opportunities are unlocked with this!)

I'll be honest, my headcannon was that toons had some type of magic in them. Yeah, I know that's kind of cheating, allowing me to say that anything they do is a result of magic, and it would ask how they got it (like did a human create them with magic? Or are they just magical beings that showed up a long time ago?). I wasn't really happy with it, but it was the best I could think of for a while. But I like this more ^^

Tldr; I think you just unlocked the great mystery to how toons in WFRR work. They can just bend reality however they need in some way that best suits them. Maybe that's how Doom was able to kill Teddy despite supposedly dropping a toon piano on him; he just willed it to be deadly and nit a gag.

I’m glad the idea tracks! Tbh I think the HC that toons have magic or are magic makes sense too. One could argue that creating entertainment (stories, movies, tv, music, etc.) is the human way of creating magic when in reality it doesn’t quite exist. And it’s practically outright stated that toons exist to entertain (human) people. Therefore, toons embody magic itself.

Although this probably makes sense only if humans came first, but the possibility that somehow toons existed before humans really intrigues me!

Also, Doom’s existence is kind of blowing my mind now with that possibility of Doom willing the piano to kill Teddy. If that was the case then that means Doom figured out how to circumvent the restrictions of his own existence. If he was created to be a cartoon villain, then he should only be able to harm other toons but murdering a human goes against that entirely. Despite that, Doom still exists. He’s bent the laws of toon nature as well human nature to his will. And in a very weird way, he’s a prime example as to why toons should have equal rights with humans in the WFRR world bc his actions have a lasting impact on both humans and toons that goes beyond simply making people laugh.

[virtuepoint]

CLOCKED OUT! with @egokiss

Seowon’s three years into the idol industry, and by this point, he’d like to think that he knows the fine line between fanservice and pissing off your fans like the back of his hand.

It’s with the knowledge of this line in mind that he blocks off Shin Doah’s (Haute Pink, main cast member of this show he’s guesting on, pretty girl) attempts to flirt with him on camera. It’s a bad move, apparently, because Doah’s acted prickly with him for the remaining hours of the episode’s shooting. Seowon is, by no means, a variety genius, but he’s done enough research-watching to know that an episode where he’s nervously laughing, stumbling over his words, while one of the main cast members is ever so slightly frowning at him can’t be a fun one to watch. In his defense, Seowon’s supposed to do this. If he was a little less selfish, it was because he was protecting her, in his own way. If Seowon was honest, it’s because he can’t lose his grip on the love that’s been given to him over some joke and a punchline. The love he receives, in a way, is him, and it was like– an addiction that he knew full well he needed help for. Tomorrow, after one last hit.

Seowon’s by the food truck sent by his fans, decorated with posters of his face and motivational messages and feels that love. It’s comforting. It makes him feel a little less guilty about humiliating his senior on television. It doesn’t last long, though, because he spots the senior in question soon enough. Still holding a paper cup filled with jasmine tea, he orders one more, and makes a beeline to Doah, a thank you barely heard to the staff handing him the cup.

“Sunbaenim,” he starts, stretching out his hand to offer her the tea that he’s holding. There’s a safe distance between them. Seowon notices now that the cup has his face printed on it, aegyo and all, and finds himself turning a little red. “I wanted to say sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you, if I did. I was just thinking of my fans and it wasn’t personal at all, really, like,” he pauses. Geez, real humble, Seowon.

Doah’s hard to figure out, Seowon realizes when he’s standing face-to-face with her. She’s not exactly sunshine, but she’s not guarded, either. Seowon thinks of the way Doah shines as a little bit like glitter– boundless, sparkly, everywhere. “Yeah, sorry.” It’s awkward, suddenly. He coughs, running a hand through his hair.

[specialinterestshows]

Find out the conclusion of Finn and Damian’s talk in this latest chapter of my Rhea Ripley x lady!reader fic. (Also how did this get to fifty chapters???)

Warnings for this section: Cannabis (weed), dirty talk

-

Absolute Smokeshow (Part 50 of ?): The Other Side

“I’m sure they’ll be back any minute,” you reassure JD with a smile as he checks his phone again for what must be the tenth time since you noticed him doing it. Knowing the advice you gave Damian might change whatever it was JD had with Finn made you feel more than a little bit guilty.

"You're probably right," JD sighed, eyes fixed on the parking lot, expression unchanging - anxious and a bit sad.

Looking back at Dominik and Rhea for help, you notice her whispering things in his ear, making him blush. Turning back to JD, you do your best to try and take his mind off Finn.

"So, are you a wrestler too?" you ask, unable to see any muscle due to the somewhat loose nature of clothes that covered both his arms and his legs.

"Have been for years," JD replied, finally actually looking over at you, "Are you?"

You laugh, "No, not even a little bit. Just had the good fortune to meet and end up with a wrestler." A smile makes its way onto your face, but JD's expression is still uneasy despite maintaining eye contact.

"Wish I had more bud to offer you," is all you can think to say, smile fading a bit, "Looks like you could use it."

"Ah, that stuff makes me paranoid anyway," he responds, waving a hand.

"Have you ever tried CBD?" you ask, not giving up on keeping him - and, being entirely honest, yourself - distracted.

"What's that?" JD asks warily.

"It's the part of weed that makes you calm and relieves pain," you explain, "Some places sell CBD by itself; so if you wanted to try smoking without the paranoia, you could also smoke or eat some CBD when you smoke weed in order to stay calm. Or you could try the CBD by itself, especially as a balm for any pains you might have to recover from after a match!"

"I had no idea," JD says, actually sounding interested for the first time during your conversation, "I'll have to look around for some and give it a try!"

"What are we trying?" Rhea's sultry voice asks, surprisingly close to your ear as she moves to rest her chin on your shoulder - startling you a little, but mostly making your face warm.

"C-B-D?" JD says hesitantly, looking at you, "Did I get that right?"

You nod carefully so as not to run into Rhea, making JD grin.

"Oh," Rhea says, sounding somewhat disappointed.

"Nothing nearly as sexy as you might hope, babe," you say apologetically, gently leaning your head against hers.

"I dunno," JD says, "No paranoia and less pain after matches? Sounds pretty sexy to me."

Rhea snorts at the comment as you laugh.

"Feels like I'm always late for the punchline," Damian's voice made everyone look up. His hair was slightly disheveled, he was calmer than you had seen him all day, and there was something else different about him that you couldn't quite place.

"What are you doing wearing that shirt," JD asked, looking down at the purple X on the black shirt stretched tightly across Damian's chest, voice trembling with growing rage, "And where is the man it belongs to?"

"Lo siento," Damian apologized, "But this was given to me freely" - he tugged a bit on the collar of the shirt, drawing attention to what could only be a hickey on his neck - "And Finn is fine, don't worry."

The smile Damian couldn't seem to suppress only seemed to make JD more impatient.

"Where. Is. He." JD demanded to know, getting closer.

"Still back in the rental car, I think," Damian replied, making JD's expression slowly dial back to bitter resentment - but it was Damian's next comment that made JD look completely heartbroken, "I tired him out pretty quickly and he might need a minute to recover."

Not saying a word, JD pulled a few bills out of his pocket, set them under his plate on the table, and walked off dejectedly. The guilt pierced you like a dagger as you watched him shuffle away in the direction of the parking lot.

"No fucking way," Rhea says after JD is out of earshot, "You and Finn finally got together?!"

"Thanks to your girlfriend," Damian replies, grinning harder. The happiness he exuded made you feel a bit less guilty.

"I'm glad things worked out!" you say, trying to put your feelings aside to let Damian enjoy his moment.

"So what you guys did in the car," Dominik addresses Damian, "... Details?"

"Dirty boy," Rhea scolds Dom, "You too, Priest. Finn better have the windows down; I am not driving for hours in a car that smells like sex."

"You didn't seem to have a problem with it after you and Dom had that quickie and thought Finn and I wouldn't notice," Damian countered.

Rhea smiled at the memory and kissed Dominik’s cheek before checking the time and sighing.

“We should start heading to the next location,” she said, sounding less than excited.

“Thanks for everything, babe,” you tell Rhea, holding up your gift bag and winking, “I’ll send you a picture of me with this on once I get home.”

Rhea pulls you into a hug and whispers “good slut” before pressing her lips against yours. A wave of lust washes over you as she quickly grabs your ass and bites your lip before pulling away and letting you say goodbye to the other two. Dominik seems surprised when you pull him in for a hug as well, the heat radiating from his face as you pull away. Hugging Damian requires you to jump up a bit, making him laugh and spin you around before saying, “Thanks again, chica. I’m sure Finn would say the same if he wasn’t so proud” - he looks back at the parking lot briefly - “and also probably asleep.”

[end part fifty of ?]

Part 51: https://www.tumblr.com/specialinterestshows/730125705350873088/absolute-smokeshow-part-51-of-a-prince-and

-

Tag List (thank you!)

@cherryberryshine , @littlemiss-fanficlover , @elisewithak , @babybatlover , @girlofpink , @kagome2909 , @domlynch

[positivelybeastly]

Simon says 🎲

7. A romantic kiss.

"So, what's this new form supposed to be?"

Hank blinks, and turns from where he's laying on the Avengers Mansion roof. It's newly completed, and he swears he's just stress testing it, but really he just wanted a moment of respite from the party going on downstairs. It was, as with all things Janet van Dyne, simultaneously very chic, very stylish, and yet all together too much - an excellent time, to be sure, but exhausting.

Hank's spent a lot of the last few years feeling exhausted, if he's honest. Which . . . well. Given the company he's currently keeping, it's hard not to be.

Honest, that is. He was never too exhausted for Simon.

"Simon! I hope I haven't drawn you away from the festivities - there's really no need to concern yourself, I just needed a breath of fresh air."

He's just hovering there, as beautiful as the day Hank first laid eyes on him. Why wouldn't he be? He's ionic. A collection of atoms and molecules so completely and utterly distinct that to call him a Wonder Man is both an absolutely correct appellation and the world's worst misnomer. He'll outlast them all - Hank knows that as surely as he knows the warped, frayed edges of his own genome. They've both been utterly transformed, but while Hank's only made himself look less and less human, Simon just . . . persists. Forever beautiful.

Electrically charged atoms, clustered so tightly and so densely that they form wisps of purple, surround him, and if Hank were feeling more himself, he might tease that there's a charge in the air tonight. Instead, he just smiles. He finds it hard to stop himself from smiling at Simon. He probably looks drunk. He has been drinking a little.

But if Simon thinks so, he doesn't say or show it. Instead, he floats like the proverbial cloud so that he's hovering right above and to the left of Hank, carefully setting himself down by his old buddy, his old pal. A less knowledgeable Simon scholar might think that he'd be easier to read if only he would take off those glasses, but Hank's well aware that if he did, there'd only be the red.

And he's never needed to see his eyes to read Simon.

"Jan's in fine form tonight."

Hank laughs, and immediately the tension he didn't quite realise he was feeling unfurls like a jolly caterpillar. "Isn't she just? I seem to recall the Professor doing something similar, years ago, back after Genosha. A rush of activity, a burst of energy, as if to prove it wasn't all for nothing, that life goes on. Granted, I think we're in a damned better place than we were back then."

Were they? Hank's not so sure. He's teaching at Harvard now, which wouldn't have happened 10 years ago. He knows that from personal, lived experience - after his second successful application to the school, one of the custodians had seen fit to give him his old red maroon suit jacket he'd thrown on the floor of the Dean's office in a fit of pique when his first application had been denied. But for everyone else, well . . .

"Yeah. Yeah, I think we are, actually."

"Optimism, Simon? Your wonders never cease."

Simon sees the punchline coming a mile away, walks into it. They laugh. This is comfortable, isn't it? This is nice.

"I think . . . I think Wanda and I finally broke it off, today. We talked, at the park, and it . . . well, there's more to talk about. But it felt pretty definitive."

Ah. So, that's why Wanda had hugged Hank when she'd seen him.

"I'm truly sorry to hear that. You were good for one another."

Simon snorts. It's a strange noise to hear out of that movie star mouth and filtered through the '40s Transatlantic accent that he always seems to settle on, and it makes Hank start a little.

"No we weren't. She wasn't what I needed, and I wasn't what she wanted. Never has been, and I never have been."

Good use of tenses, Simon. It was all Hank could think as he looks at the other man, rubbing his thumbs together.

". . . Well. Regardless. I always thought you were at least nice together."

"Is that why you turned up on that date all those years back wearing my old safari jacket? Because Wanda and I were nice together?"

Jesus Christ, Simon, go for my damn well jugular, why don't you?! Hank sat up at that, looking momentarily offended, utterly confused, absolutely bamboozled. Now Simon really is unreadable, just sitting there, staring at him. It says a lot about the both of them and the way they've left things, the way they've been skirting around each other's edges, that they both know exactly what Simon's talking about, despite it being one dumb date night Hank had crashed over a decade ago that most people would have just let fade into the annals of forgettable fun.

Well, now. Where in the nine rings of Hell did he go from here?

"It's, ah. It's a combination of a few different simian species - macaque, gorilla, ape, etcetera. The form. My new form. Since you asked. It's a little chimeric, if you want to know the genetic details. It retained my yellow eyes, from my feline mutation, however, I'm not quite sure why."

Simon just looks at him. Hank's answered the question, but not the question.

"It was - funny. I was being funny."

"Like Bugs Bunny."

"Precisely! Precisely like Bugs Bunny."

Simon sighs.

"Look, I know you may have spent a good amount of time dead, Simon, but I know when you were born and I know for fact that you know enough about Bugs Bunny to know that Bugs is - is - "

Where was he going with this?

"Oh, whatever . . ."

He turns away, starting to think that maybe he should head back inside. But . . . that would mean away from Simon, even if that's the reason he thinks maybe he should head back inside. His ears twitch as he hears plastic and metal and glass move, and he realises that Simon's taken off his glasses. The thought doesn't really phase him. All he'd see is the red. And, don't get him wrong, he likes the red, it's a reminder that he's not alone in possessing a body so utterly transformed that the windows to the shreds of his soul are tinted, but, not right now.

"Hank."

Oh, all right, fine, he supposes he'll look at his movie star friend a bit more.

He turns back, and starts a little. Again. How is it that Simon's getting the drop on him so many times tonight? Wasn't that supposed to be his gimmick? But then again, he's one of the few people who knows what it means to glance back at Simon and see his real eyes - or, maybe it was better to say his other eyes. That means he's concentrating, holding back that crackle that usually just comes spilling out of him. That's something he usually only does when he has to do a close-up, or if . . .

If there's something he wants to say but he can't quite say.

What is it that Simon wants to say?

Well.

Quite by instinct, Hank finds himself leaning back towards Simon, and . . . well, yes, that is his hand cupping his jaw a little, and well, maybe that is the tips of his fingers stroking at the immaculately trimmed sideburns that he's certain Simon's had for nigh on 30 years now. And maybe that is his thumb, feeling the cold skin of his best friend's cheek.

It's December in New York, and everyone in the city is cold except for Hank McCoy. It's always the way of things. He's always just that mite uncomfortable every time it's vaguely warm, but touching Simon like that, well . . . it's just nice. Funny, isn't it? Hank's got enough letters after his name to fill several alphabets, but he can't think of a word better than nice right now. It simply is nice. He's cool to the touch. Their temperatures reach a natural equilibrium. He's certain that means something, but what, well . . . it's . . . hard. Don't ask him right now. He's busy.

Busy kissing Simon Williams.

He knows what the man tastes like, of course (oh, hush). He's kissed him before. Bugs Bunny, like he said. But this is . . . undeniably something different. There's a difference between a big, loud, lip smacky, comedy kiss, and . . . this. This, touch, this, embrace, this, this. Hank's kissed a lot of people before, been frankly something of a slut in his time, but this is . . . more, than that. This is . . . charged. The fur on the back of his hand stands on delighted end as he spends just a little more time just, kissing, his best friend, and he can feel the ionic charge rippling along his fur. It's, good. Better than good.

Wonderful, actually.

He opens his eyes, and he realises that Simon's let the crackle flow back out. He's staring into red, pulsating energy again. It's like staring into a supernova, imperious and cold in its power. And he knows his own body well enough to know that Simon's staring into a star of his own, golden yellow, warm and knowing. If he'll allow his inner poet to escape him for a moment, something a little celestial is happening, he thinks.

That's - all, he thinks, actually. His mind's gone a little bit blank. His lips are still tingling with ionic charge as Simon looks at him, clearly expecting him to say something. First thing to come to mind, go.

". . . Better than Bugs Bunny?"

Simon laughs.

"Yeah, better than Bugs Bunny, you goof."

[magxit]

Every time Matty Healy opens his mouth, somebody gets annoyed. Long before his rumoured relationship with international sweetheart Taylor Swift, Healy, the lead singer of the massively irritating pop band The 1975, had mastered the art of winding people up. He has a supple singing voice and is a decent songwriter: but his true vocation, across his decade-plus career, has been treading on strangers’ toes. He’s the Bob Dylan of raising your blood pressure.

Until recently, this was an accepted fact, and nobody cared that he was a bit of an idiot. It was his calling card. You went to see The 1975 because you were partial to their slick, saxophone-fuelled pop – imagine if Radiohead woke one morning and decided they wanted to be a Level 42 covers band – but also because there was a fair chance Healy might do something ludicrous. As he did when he brought his tour to Dublin earlier this year and, in response to an annoying audience chant of “Olé, Olé, Olé,” told 14,000 Irish fans that they were “a simple people”.

Nobody booed; if anything, the crowd lapped it up. Later in the show, Healy, 34, had a slight meltdown and started swinging the mic stand around. In a world where many male rockers want to be a variation of Chris Martin – the colour beige in human form – how refreshing to see a vast, preening ego imploding for our entertainment.

You were reminded that Healy grew up in an acting family: his father, Tim Healy, starred in Auf Wiedersehen, Pet and Benidorm, and his mother, Denise Welch, is best known as Natalie Barnes from Coronation Street. She’s also done panto – and clearly, some of that knockabout energy has filtered down to her son.

What a rollercoaster ride it was watching him in concert. In between these two extremes of sneery git and man-falling-to-pieces, Healy had briefly addressed the audience. “There’s a story [in the papers] calling me a Nazi tomorrow,” he said. “This is true.”

It was indeed true. Healy had been waving his arms earlier in the tour, and a few tabloids had decided he was giving a Hitler salute. The controversy was ludicrous and flamed out. But another online storm has followed Healy around - and has been intensified by his supposed romance with Taylor Swift. It concerns the New York rapper Ice Spice, whom Healy is accused of mocking in a podcast.

He addressed these claims in a new interview with The New Yorker, which seems to have been commissioned not because of The 1975’s streak of decent albums but because he’s been in the audience of Taylor Swift’s US tour (with Swift having joined The 1975 in London in January).

The singer hadn’t insulted Ice Spice but had laughed when the podcast hosts described her as an “Inuit Spice girl” and a “chubby Chinese lady”. The 23-year-old rapper is, in fact, of African-American and Dominican heritage. The details are obviously irrelevant: it’s self-evidently unacceptable to turn someone’s ethnicity or appearance into a punchline.

Healy had, as was only proper, later apologised publicly – saying he didn’t want Ice Spice, real name Isis Naija Gaston, to think he was a “d---”. But that horse had bolted.

He’s shallow, then – but he has depths. Healy is blisteringly honest about his mental health on The 1975’s 2022 LP, Being Funny In A Foreign Language album as well as reflecting on his years of heroin addiction and his romantic split from singer FKA Twigs.

“Oh, I don’t care if you’re insincere / Just tell me what I want to hear,” he sang on All I Need To Hear, a ballad about his need for human support and connection following a reported breakdown. Later, the Cheshire-raised singer said that it was easier “as an English northern person, to be sardonic in the face of something sincere”. The argument he makes on the new LP is that it’s okay to be corny and fake, if your motives are pure.

He has also gleefully played with ideas of masculinity. On the group’s latest tour, Healy sings against briefly projected images of Prince Andrew and of controversial kick boxer-turned-influencer Andrew Tate, whose toxic machismo Healy appeared to skewer.

But in the New Yorker interview, Healy made the broader point that most of the online controversy he has whipped up over the years has been illusory. In an uncharacteristic display of humility, he explained that people don’t think about him that often.

“It doesn’t actually matter,” he told The New Yorker. “Nobody is sitting there at night slumped at their computer, and their boyfriend comes over and goes, ‘What’s wrong, darling?’ and they go, ‘It’s just this thing with Matty Healy.’ That doesn’t happen.”

What about those people who were genuinely offended, wondered The New Yorker? “You’re either deluded or you are, sorry, a liar. You’re either lying that you are hurt, or you’re a bit mental for being hurt. It’s just people going, ‘Oh, there’s a bad thing over there, let me get as close to it as possible so you can see how good I am.’ And I kind of want them to do that, because they’re demonstrating something so base level.”

Swift and Healy have yet to go on the record with their romance – though Swift has gone public with her admiration for Ice Spice, with whom she recorded a new version of her single Karma. But even without confirmation, the very idea of Swift being with an unreconstructed wind-up merchant of Healy’s calibre has vexed a segment of her fanbase, who have urged her to “actively engage in this process of personal and social transformation”.

This touches on the wider issue of how much say fans should have in the personal lives of pop stars (answer: none at all). It also confirms that Healy is a throwback to an older kind of pop star. There was a time when being outrageous wasn’t a career killer – it was part of the job description. Whether it was Ozzy Osbourne biting off the head of a bat or the Gallaghers launching jibes at Blur (before they turned their artillery on each other), part of the fun of being a pop fan was waiting for your favourite artist’s next outrageous outburst.

Healy understands this is part of his job and hasn’t been found wanting. He’s good at it too. In an age where pop is increasingly a story of the bland leading the bland, it is a talent for which he should be praised rather than pilloried.

[piko-rose]

Sonic Told A Dumb Joke To His Brothers; This Is What Happens Next...

"Hey guys."

Tails and Knuckles, both laying on their beds, turned their heads to see Sonic from his beanbag, giving them the most crap eating grin they have ever seen.

They both know what's up, and they both sigh, feeling exhausted.

"What is it, Sonic?" They both groaned.

The hedgehog giggled before clearing his throat. He just thought of the best joke ever, and he needed his brothers to hear it.

"Knock knock."

Tails and Knuckles blunk, mentally prepared for the inevitable. "Who's there?" They asked, no emotion whatsoever.

"Apple."

"Apple who?"

This is it. The moment he's been waiting for. He couldn't wait to see the look on the boys' face after he says the punchline.

"Apple you glad I didn't say 'Orange you glad I didn't say banana?!'"

... ...

"Eh? Ehhh?"

The hedgehog's grin nearly covered the entire muzzle. The young kit and warrior just stared at him. Not even a snicker was heard.

"Heheh... Get it...?"

They do think it was funny, right?

Right?

-

It's only been ten minutes since Sonic tried to settle in in his backyard and he hated it. It's cold out, strange sounds from within the woods kept going off, lots of bugs won't leave him alone, and no matter which side he try to lie on, his fur kept getting tickled by wet grass, since it rained a while ago.

He couldn't believe that his own brothers kicked him out all because of a silly joke! Who kicks out their own brother because of a silly joke?!

He growled quietly, trying to get all comfortable in the blanket and pillow that they gave him. At least they gave him something to actually lay down on.

The back door then opened, Tom and Maddie walking out to see Sonic struggling with the blanket. "Buddy, come back inside. You're not really kicked out." He said, walking down the steps.

"They said so themselves!" Sonic argued. "I said something funny, they get upset and said get out of the house!"

"They said 'get out of our room'" Maddie corrected.

"Same thing!"

"No, it's not the same thing." Tom said. "You're overreacting."

"No I'm not!" Sonic cried.

"You still live with us, sweetie. No body hasn't, or ever will kick you out for any reason." Maddie approached the hedgehog, helping him up and grabbing his things for him. "It's alright."

Sonic grumbled in protest, but deep down he knew she was right.

"Now come on, dinner's almost ready." Tom said walking back inside. Maddie, with pillow and blanket in hand, walks back in as well, with Sonic following her. The moment he stepped in the kitchen, a giant wooden spoon aimed right at his face and caught him by surprise.

"WHOA!"

"Back to the forest where you belong, you ungrateful cringe beast!" The Echidna roared, holding out the spoon like a big sword. He then paused, and zones out for a second before looking back at Sonic. "Did I use that word correctly?"

Sonic's brow furrows in annoyance. "Not even close."

"Nope. You used it exactly." Tails added, entering the room.

"Dude! You think I'm cringe?!" Sonic cried out, really, REALLY annoyed now. "That is so uncool!"

"Geez, calm down! It's nothing to freak out over. It's just my honest opinion."

"HONEST opinion?! What the hell, Tails!"

"Language, hedgehog!" Tom raises his voice at Sonic, who dares to say such a thing.

"That's enough, you guys!" Maddie steps in, carefully breaking apart the arguing brothers. "There should be no yelling or fighting during dinner."

"Back! Back you fiend!" Knuckles tries to stab Sonic with the spoon. "Hey! Quit it! What the-?! Ouch!" The hedgehog was now back outside on the back porch. "Ha! I have won this battle!" Knuckles cried out in triumph and raised his fists in the air.

"Again! Uncool!" He argued as Knuckles let's out a hearty laugh, feeling victorious.

"And we are especially not stabbing people with spoons!" Maddie says as she takes the wooden spoon out of Knuckles' hand. "But... I just did?"

"Guys, come on! Let me back in! I was just being silly!" Sonic said. Tails hummed, looking like he was thinking about it. "...No."

"SERIOUSLY?"

"You really think that joke was funny?" Tails said, hands on his hips. "I nearly went into a coma from how bland that was!"

"Wait... Is that true?" Knuckles said with concern in his eyes.

"I was only trying to cheer you guys up!"

"And failed miserably."

"Dude, why you gotta be so harsh? I know you guys had a rough day, I was only trying to make you laugh!"

"Unfortunately, hedgehog, it appears that your one-liners have dropped down to zero-liners." Knuckles added.

"That doesn't even make any sense!" Sonic yelled.

"Your joke wasn't that funny. You'd expect me to laugh at that?" Tails crossed his arms and looks away from the clearly offended hedgehog.

"Hey Tails?"

"Yeah, Dad?"

Tom then showed off a cheeky grin.

"Apple you glad I didn't say 'Orange you glad I didn't say banana??'" He said quickly.

"Pffft!" Tails covered his mouth to hide his laughter, but it was too late. "Darn you!" He said in between his giggles. He admitted it, he kind of thought it was funny, but at the same time the joke was so dumb.

So dumb it was good.

But he didn't want to laugh at it, but the Donut Lord just had to spill the joke out once again. Knuckles even smirked slightly.

The laughter died down however when they both turn to see Sonic's outstandingly offended speechless expression. Even with the small eye twitch, they knew there was rage in there.

"Oh." He then said. "Okay. I see. I see." He nodded, clapping his hands together.

"I see how it is."

The tone in his voice almost made Tails shiver.

"You think that joke was funny?"

"Yeah-"

"You REALLY think that was funny?" Sonic stomped his way back in the house, causing Tails and Knuckles to back away slowly.

"You actually thought that joke was funny, but not when I say it??"

"Wait, wha-?"

"When Dad said it, you giggled your tails off, but when I said it, you got so mad you kicked me out of your room??"

" ...Our room?" Knuckles corrected quietly.

"I didn't mean it!" Tails assured. "It's just that your joke was so bad, it-"

"Oh-hohoho! Are you saying I'm not funny?" Sonic chuckled aggressively, showing off a pretty pissed off smile.

"I mean- WHAT? NO!" Tails cried

"Look, I was only trying to entertain you and Knuckles, but you HONESTLY think that my jokes are bad? You really- Oh, my God. You think Dad's funny. You think Dad Jokes are funny??" He cried out in terror.

"That is not at all what you think!" Tails shook his hands trying to reason with him.

"I cannot believe what I am hearing right now..." He said in defeat, face palming. "You really think I'm just ruining your day? I was only trying to help..."

"I know you were but-!"

"I thought the way you spoke your joke wasn't amusing, I just thought Father Donut's 'delivery' made it make sense." Knuckles admitted.

Tails glared at the warrior, mouthing the words "The hell, man?"

"Wow." Sonic spoke. "You never lie, do you Knuckles?"

"Hold on-"

"AH AH AH AH!" Sonic waves his finger, mouthing the fox to quit talking. "I believe I have heard enough. I'm not funny."

"Please, hedgehog." Knuckles shook his head. He really wanted to end this argument. "We never said you were unfunny. You're simply just annoying."

Tails' face have never screamed "I'm going to drown you" before.

Annoying...

Annoying...

Annoying...

The last word repeated non stop in Sonic's mind. His emerald eyes widen. He couldn't find the right words to argue back. His ears drooped, as he tried to shake off that word off of repeat.

But it didn't. The word just kept chanting at him like a broken record player. The word yelling at him was getting really annoying.

Just like him.

Sonic looks back at his brothers with tears beginning to form. "So, that's what you thought of me?" He snapped back.

"No, wait. That's not what Knuckles-"

"No. I understand. I'm completely aware. I realize now that I bother you with my "unfunny" jokes or my annoying presence." Sonic said, anger not washing away from his face.

"That's not true!" Tails cried.

"Don't worry, I'm not mad at you. I'm just upset about finding out how I really acted." He looked down at the ground, feeling hurt slightly but refuse to show it. "And it won't happen again."

"Hey, come on. Don't say that!" Tom said, placing his hand on Sonic's shoulder. "You know that's not true!"

"Says the one who rolls his eyes whenever I asked "are we there yet" every 30 seconds! ...Oh..."

"Granted, you asked that every 30 seconds, but I wasn't agitated with you-"

"Oh, wow..."

Sonic cupped his gloved hands together, thinking back at that memory. The excitement, continuously kicking his feet up in the air, pumped to go to the fair with the family, not even waiting for a second.

He kept on asking if they reached their destination yet, and sung his heart out to every song that played on the radio. He remembered how Tails and Knuckles reacted to it, with Tails feeling overwhelmed from his loud voice, and Knuckles looking like he wants to lunch a hole in the car.

He won every mini game and got the biggest prizes out of the both of them. Even had the last cotton candy before they can even get any.

He even got to ride on one of the roller coasters, meanwhile Tails was too short, and Knuckles would get motion sickness about ten seconds in.

Sonic bragged about all the fun he had at the fair while Tails and Knuckles looked tired and disappointed. They didn't even talk to him or anything.

When they got home they all went to their rooms to lay down after that big day. He knew they looked sad, so he thought he can help them out.

By telling them a really bad joke.

And now, he understands and let's out a sigh.

"I really am annoying, huh?"

"NO! YOU'RE NOT!" Tails grew concerned for Sonic now and he too was beginning to cry, feeling guilty about what he had said before.

"Buddy, you're not annoying! No body says that!" Tom said, kneeling down to Sonic's level.

"Knuckles said I was annoying." He said, pointing at the Echidna. "And he never lies."

Knuckles silently gasped. He felt upset and guilty about the situation he put Sonic in. "I..." He tried to find the right words to protest, but it was no use. The damage is done.

He felt worse when Maddie gave him that "disappointed parent" look. He knew there is going to be a big talk after this.

"I'm sorry, okay?" He choked. "I won't bother anyone again!"

He then ran up to his room in a flash. The door closed behind him. Everyone was shocked about what happened and worried for him, especially Tails and Knuckles.

"Oh, boy..." Tom groaned. "That just happened..."

"I feel terrible." Tails squeezed both of his tails in distress. "Don't be. This was all on me." Knuckles assured calmly. "I am aware that my choice of words weren't pleasant."

Tails then grew upset. "Ha, yeah! 'weren't pleasant' is an understatement, and it was definitely your fault."

"This was no body's fault, but that doesn't mean that you both aren't in trouble." Maddie scolded. "After dinner we are going to have a talk about this."

Tails and Knuckles both sighed in defeat. "Yes, ma'am..."

"But isn't Sonic joining us?" Knuckles wondered out loud.

"I have a feeling he doesn't want to eat right now. Probably still full from the sweets at the fair." Tom said. "Plus, he's pretty upset about what you said. I'll check up on him after dinner..."

-

It's almost midnight, and the boys are already tucked in and ready for bed. Except for Tails

Tails turned over to see Sonic laying in his racecar bed under the blankets. He doesn't like he's asleep.

Tails inhaled deeply, and exhaled before speaking. "Goodnight, Sonic."

He then lay back down and closed his eyes, ready to fall asleep. He also waited to hear Sonic say 'goodnight' back.

...Nothing.

The young pup sighed and rested his head in the pillow. He hoped that tomorrow, Sonic will be so better and that he will forget about what happened.

'Goodnight, little buddy...' Sonic whispered before going to sleep.

-