#fallout inquiry

[busybee217]

How did jack Cabot’s research get under the institute’s radar? Like wouldn’t they be interested in what he was doing? The serum may have cured father for all we know.

[silentreigns]

Not even being dramatic when I say this is the 2nd worst gymnastics scandal after Sydney 2000. The FIG should be ASHAMED of themselves for their handling of this Olympics

[dyad-tmesis]

about the fallout au, was hyde the result of a vault experiment? I'm aware those were common in the series and I wanted to know if that's where he stems from. (FYI I have not played the games so I know little about lore, all I know is that Vault-Tech used many of the vault inhabitants as test subjects.)

Excellent question! Hyde is not the result of a vault experiment specifically, he’s still very much a product of Jekylls work.

===

For those including you that aren’t familiar with Fallout lore…

Vaults are large, sealable communal bomb shelters meant to house hundreds of people for extended amounts of time if a nuclear apocalypse were to occur (which it did). The company Vault tec built hundreds of vaults across north america (I haven’t figured out how they’d wind up in the uk, I’d need to look into lore for that but let’s just say for now they wanted in on getting vaults in their territory). Unfortunately in collaboration with the U.S. gov this morally bankrupt company put into place deadly/unethical experiments that would be performed on each vaults unknowing residents, ranging from genetic experiments (Vault 22) to social ones (Vault 11). Each vault had its own unique experiment, with only a few left untouched and allowed to perform its proper purpose as control groups.

===

To be honest I haven’t given much thought to the specifics of Jekylls vault. They could’ve been a vault with an experiment that was postponed or cancelled in some way, a vault that had a more subtle social experiment (he had to have gotten that repression from somewhere) , or they were one of the rare few control vaults. Regardless they were successfully sealed and, a good hundred something years later, opened to the wasteland. Jekyll’s vault was selective in who they welcomed, almost always just merchants and traders who were trusted as the wasteland isn’t a kind place. This was how Jekyll and Lanyon had met, as Hastie was one of those trusted outsiders that traded with the vault residents frequently.

In retrospect Lanyon and Jekylls dynamic here would work just as well (if not better) if it was flipped. With Jekyll being a rough and tumble wastelander while Lanyon was the sheltered, privileged vault resident. I…might just change it in the future.

Onto Hyde-

Jekyll still pursues the idea of splitting the good from the bad within humans, his belief even reinforced once he was exposed to the harsh wasteland environment and the evils people are capable of performing. It even feels a bit inevitable given some of the themes of the franchise this is being mashed up with…

Hyde blends right into the society of the wastes, takes greater risks, is more inclined to commit crimes since this is a post apocalyptic setting and there’s no one around to enforce prewar laws. But this also comes with greater consequences as people aren’t afraid to get a little murderous when slighted. Both Hyde and Jekyll have their fair share of scars to say the least.

[vermillioncrown]

JLI sans B to the best of my knowledge: Martian Manhunter p much the DCAU version but with a Crippling Oreo addiction, Fire: ??? Lesbian Brazilian ??? Ice: Died once dated Guy ??? Scott Free: Master Escape Artist Malewife, Big Barda: Ngozi is doing a comic on her Stoic Warrio badass from a Divine Dystopia, Guy Gardner: Considered the Asshole GL had brain damage that affected his personality Batman knocked him out with 1 punch (pt1)

JLI knowledge (pt2): Booster Gold: had a good JLU episode, Jock to Janitor pipeline, stole stuff out of fancy future museum to be a superhero for the $$ fame, had to keep up the act as a gloryhound does barely anything to keep from getting Terminated ⏰, time management, shipped with Blue Beetle II, Blue Beetle II: Ted Kord dated Barbra Gordon once, had a heart attack that kept him off the playing field the BB movie called him "Batman with ADHD", has asshole uncle, studied under BB I.

(mashed your asks together, anon)

(re: post about the blowjob brothers)

=

my idea of the justice league is from the animated series + peripheral new earth/modern stuff, so ofc i know there are discrepancies between media + from general hubbub most comic knowers aren't too keen on animated series only ppl so 🤷‍♂️

^but hot fucking damn why do any of these people talk to each other, this is like "you're all stuck together bc no one wants to deal with you, now go eat each other's faces off"

(i'm both curious and not really bc there is a lot of source media and i'm only one person...i also love seeing a writer's mental convolutions to connect pieces up to a point, and that point is very arbitrary and mutable)

one of the ppl i follow has subjected me to... "boostle" yes? i know of it. booster gold without his boyfriend looks like someone i want to smother w a pillow, i think what you've said of his arc is interesting but again. i need to fight the smother response

batman w adhd poor dude. sorry for his affliction, bat brain sucks.

(no lol i've read some summaries of ted kord and again. my ???? w a lot of big comic stuff is "everyone is the most special pretty princess, we can't all be the most specialist prettiest princesses)

=

(no my biggest fucking beef is so many of them are self-taught genii that is perfect at all physical skills and expert whatevers just go. flip into the sun. it bores me. very 'grown dudes never outgrowing playing pretend in preschool' type of writing)

=

i'll leave a link to this post and think this covers the vibe of how i want to play it lmao

[greenreticule]

I can't stop thinking about how Riz stole from Jawbone.

This is the third iteration of Jawbone trying to connect with Riz emotionally, check in on the little guy, only for Riz to fully dodge the prying.

On the first day of school, Jawbone was pretty direct in trying to get Riz to open up. Needling him about Kipperlily, asking what is up with Riz, saying he's gonna "get" Riz eventually. Riz deflects by saying that he's an open book, and then refocuses on helping Kristen to get out from Jawbone's scrutiny.

Then in "Baron's Game," we get a manifestation of Jawbone in the twisted manor, telling a hidden Riz, "I just want to talk." It's not Jawbone himself, of course, but I take it both as a reflection of Riz's fear of opening up and as Brennan keeping the theme present in the story. Riz uses Misty Step to get away from the encounter.

And most recently, it's Brennan who introduces Jawbone into Riz's downtime. Murph doesn't go looking for him, so it adds to this sence of Jawbone being deliberate about connecting with Riz. And Riz once again not only dodges Jawbone's attempt to check in on him emotionally, but this time he uses Jawbone's care to get Kipperlily's file.

And I can't stop thinking about this last instance, because I feel like this is actually a significant betrayal for Jawbone.

Riz dodging his attempts at connection, brushing off his inquiries? Sure, that's all fine. And I feel like swiping literally anything else from Jawbone would be taken in-stride as "a rogue thing." They're at Aguefort, after all.

But Jawbone takes his job as student counselor very seriously. Part of that is protecting the students that come to him for help. And protecting those students means protecting their confidentiality. And it's in the middle of Jawbone trying to help Riz, and in the middle of Jawbone speaking some manner of defense towards Kipperlily ("she's not a bad kid")... THAT'S when Riz steals the file.

Riz uses the cover of Jawbone trying to help him in order to undermine Jawbone's protection of another student.

I want Jawbone to be angry about that. I think Jawbone deserves to be angry about that.

To be clear, I love this character beat for Riz. It fits him so well. And I don't think he personally saw it as a betrayal. This was him just getting the clues! That's what he does! My little task-oriented guy!!

I am hoping for there to be some fallout from this that forces Riz to finally open up. (And maybe that leads to learning about aromanticism/asexuality from Jawbone??? That may be a leap, but let a guy dream.)

[lueurjun]

. ˚◞☁️ ✧˖🤍࿐

▍ synopsis╰┈➤ minho had always been clear about his aversion to marriage, and initially, you accepted it. But when your feelings changed, the once-accepted truth shattered, leaving you to confront the fallout head-on.

🖇·˚ ༘┊ lee know x reader — angst. angst. just angst.

˚ ༘💭 ·˚ message from lueurjun . . . my very first skz post on this account ! this was meant to just be a enha and txt acc but i’ve decided to add skz to the list too because i couldn’t resist. anyways i’m sorry for this, i was in a sad mood.

. ˚◞☁️ ✧˖🤍࿐ྂ

Minho is a captivating read, his life an open narrative. Every page reveals a tapestry of his passions and despairs, vividly illustrated with meticulous detail. It's this transparency that drew you to him, each chapter unfolding with refreshing honesty. You find comfort in knowing what to anticipate, yet he never fails to astonish you with unexpected gestures.

One of the chapters in his book is the declaration of his distaste for marriage, and conveniently enough, it’s the only chapter without a carefully crafted explanation. He told you before things progressed that he would never be able to offer you marriage, and he told you it with full intention of letting you walk away unscathed, with your heart intact. But you were fine with it, a young adult starting their twenties with no intention to marry. It didn’t bother you; it wasn’t a significant issue.

Until it was.

Wedding season was approaching in stride with the warm weather. Three beautifully designed invitations adorned the fireplace, unopened. There was a fourth, the first and only one you pried open and then hid away from your sight with a sick feeling lining in your stomach and an ache in your heart — one of longing. You couldn’t open the others.

Guilt laid across the longing, meshing together and in turn forming one complex emotion; resentment. Not even towards Minho, but your past self for being careless enough to not consider the feelings of your future self. The now you, who envisioned a beautiful summer wedding and all its trimmings. The guilt picked at you, because Minho had warned you about this before you got too deep in. He reminded you before he told you that he loved you, that if you wanted to run, if you wanted to marry then he had to let you go, before he got too attached. Before you got too attached.

Minho wasn't oblivious to the turmoil raging within you, nor to the contradictions within your heart. He found the invitation, concealed from sight bearing a telltale water stain. He observed the wistful gazes whenever your friends conversed about walking down the aisle, and married life. They often left you out of those conversations, already knowing Minho’s views. And it killed him—because he knew you wanted the one thing he vowed to never offer.

And he knew there was only one alternative to you getting what you want.

The sun’s shift was over for the day, night just clocking in when he returns home, exhausted with a heavy heart in anticipation for what he was about to do. You’re on the sofa when he walks through the door, three cats surrounding you looking interested in whatever it’s flickering on the tv. His heart clenched at the scene, aching in his chest, nearly breaking when you greeted him with a radiant smile.

He’s not one to beat around the bush. Never has been, but as he walks toward you, he feels the words stalling in his throat. His heart pleads with him, but he sits down across from you and he swallows thickly.

“Let’s break up.”

The once-warm home now feels frigid, as if drained of its vitality—like the scented candles you loved had extinguished, and the tv shut off. A profound stillness settles over everything in an instant. Your expression collapses into sheer devastation, and Minho's eyes squeeze shut.

“Did I do something?” You manage, only just. Your heart feels like it’s ready to give way. Confusion clogs your mind with a million inquiries.

Minho shakes his head. Of course you’d blame yourself. It sickens him to the core. “No. No, you didn’t.”

"Then why?" Your tone sharpens with anger, impatience seeping through. Why was he breaking up with you? Why was he doing this to you? Why now?

Minho tilts his head, eyeing the ceiling in a pathetic attempt to keep his eyes from watering. “I can’t give you what you want. It isn’t fair.”

You’re bewildered. “I don’t understand—”

“Marriage. I can’t offer that to you, and it’s not fair. I don’t want you to cry looking at invitations knowing you’ll never ship ones out of your own. I can’t watch you be left out of conversations because I’m holding you back. It isn’t fair on you.”

“I told you—”

“And you changed your mind. It’s selfish of me to string you along, knowing nothing more will come from this. I can’t let you waste your dream, not on me. So let’s break up, because that way you can find someone who will give you what you want.”

“Do you not love me?”

Minho almost laughs at that, because how is that even a question in your mind? It’s funny because he’s doing this because of how much he loves you.

“I love you enough to know that I have to let you go.”

And just like that, your heart meets your stomach as the barrier collapses. Doongie meows from your lap, reaching up a paw to your cheek as though caressing the skin. Tears chase each other down your cheeks in a rapid game of tag, the trail ending at your neck where Soonie sits, eyeing you in confusion. Dori is behind Minho, a paw coming down to strike him but he doesn’t flinch.

“I don’t have to have marriage—I just want you!” The words rush out of you like a torrential waterfall. “I can be happy without that as long as I have you.”

Minho shakes his head. “I don’t want that for you. I can’t offer you marriage, I can’t do it. That’s not me. But there’s someone else who can, and as much as the thought of you with someone else kills me, it’s what you deserve.”

Minho's longing to comfort you is palpable, yet he remains rooted to his seat, enduring each gentle prod from Dori. With his gaze fixed on the floor, he quietly utters, "I'll stay at Chan's until I figure out where to go."

You shake your head, sobs cutting through your throat as you plead, beg and cry. You don't want him to leave for Chan's, you don't want him to pack his bags; you want him right here, with you. Marriage or not, you just want him by your side.

Though deep down, want isn’t enough. Resentment has begun to accumulate like an impending avalanche, threatening to engulf everything in its path. Perhaps Minho is correct; maybe it's best to end things now. An argument would have inevitably ensued—such clashes do when both parties want different things.

Minho doesn’t cry as he packs his bag, he doesn’t cry as he kisses your forehead and leaves a scratch on Doongie’s forehead, nor when he gets into his car and drives away.

Minho's stoicism holds until two months later, when he finds himself seated in the back of Hyunjin's wedding venue, watching the happy couple share a kiss sealing the deal of forever. It's only then, as his eyes drift to where you sit, that tears finally gloss over his eyes, haunted by visions of himself slipping a ring onto your finger.

Alone in his car, Minho finally allows himself to release the pent-up emotions. Tears stream down his face as he grapples with a mind overwhelmed by countless scenarios and a heart weighed down by regret.

[thedensworld]

What a Fate | Y.Jh

Pairing: Jeonghan x Reader

Genre: humor, suggestive, smut

Words Count: 3k

Summary: Who would have thought your next meeting after having a one-night stand would be this unexpected?

 Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Jeonghan's frustration lingered from the recent board meeting where his cousin, Seungcheol, secured the position of vice president in their grandfather's company. Despite Jeonghan's tireless efforts for the company's 60th anniversary celebration, his ambitions were shattered due to a scandal that befell him just weeks before the crucial vote.

As the CEO of their food and beverage company, Jeonghan has been diligently working towards the success of the family business. However, a sudden scandal arose when a former secretary from four years ago accused him of verbal bullying during their professional association. The accusation, given his prominent familial ties, tarnished the company's image.

Jeonghan, disheartened by the false accusations, found himself grappling with the fallout of the scandal. The situation escalated as the woman, who had once served as his secretary, admitted to fabricating the allegations. It was revealed that she had been nursing an unrequited love for Jeonghan, leading her to concoct the damaging story.

The relief of the truth emerging was accompanied by the bitter taste of betrayal. Jeonghan couldn't help but feel the weight of the injustice that had cost him the chance to inherit the family business. The emotional toll of the scandal, compounded by the familial dynamics at play, cast a shadow over what should have been a moment of celebration for Jeonghan and the company.

Jeonghan, guided by Joshua's advice, surrendered to the allure of the night and found himself embracing the spontaneity that the club offered. In the dimly lit space, fueled by the rhythm of the music, he discovered a fleeting connection with you. The chemistry between them escalated, and in the heat of the moment, they succumbed to the passion of a one-night stand.

The club's pulsating beats seemed to echo the heartbeat of the impulsive decision, and for a brief moment, Jeonghan let go of the burdens that had weighed him down. The physical connection became a temporary escape, a way to numb the lingering frustrations and disappointments.

As dawn approached, reality set in. The night, once filled with liberation, now carried the weight of consequences. Jeonghan, caught between the thrill of the moment and the complexities of his personal and professional life, grappled with the aftermath of the impulsive choice.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Jeonghan muttered, the weight of realization hitting him as he hastily gathered his clothes. The consequences of the alcohol-fueled night began to sink in, and regret cast a shadow over him.

A sudden groan from you interrupted his frantic activity, causing Jeonghan to freeze. Relief washed over him as he realized you were still blissfully unaware, providing a temporary shield from the aftermath of their impulsive actions.

Stepping out of the hotel room, Jeonghan's first instinct was to call Joshua for a quick escape. The clock stubbornly displayed 2 a.m., an hour that should have deterred most people. However, Joshua, known for his penchant for late-night revelry, was the chosen confidant in this moment of crisis.

"My friend!" Joshua's voice, brimming with excitement, greeted Jeonghan as he opened the car door. In the midst of his own turmoil, Jeonghan found himself trapped with an exuberant Joshua. After directing Joshua's driver to head towards his home, Jeonghan couldn't escape the barrage of questions.

"I was looking for you, Jeonghan. Where have you been?" Joshua's enthusiasm clashed with Jeonghan's drained energy. Rolling his eyes, Jeonghan turned away, seeking a reprieve from the relentless inquiries.

"That's mean!" Joshua's protest echoed before giving way to the unexpected sounds of snoring. A chuckle escaped Jeonghan as he realized Joshua had succumbed to sleep, leaving the impending conversation for a more conscious moment.

The car ride became a surreal blend of exhaustion and Joshua's snores. Jeonghan, lost in his thoughts, braced himself for the inevitable talk he would have with Joshua once the overly-energetic friend returned to full consciousness. The night's events had left Jeonghan grappling with a mix of emotions, from regret to amusement at the unpredictable turns his life had taken.

The shrill ring of Jeonghan's phone pierced through the haze of his extended slumber, rousing him from a deep sleep. His body, oddly resistant to the routine of heading to work, had lingered in the realm of dreams, perhaps still grappling with the disappointment from the previous day's board meeting.

"Hm..." Jeonghan's response was a simple murmur, his voice carrying the remnants of a dizzy head after indulging in an unusually prolonged sleep—almost 12 hours of it.

As he reluctantly confronted the reality of the waking world, his secretary's voice permeated through the fog. Apologies were offered before the revelation struck like a sudden storm. "Your nephew, Mingyu, got into a fight and is now in a detention center."

Jeonghan's eyes snapped wide open, the abrupt news shattering the remnants of his grogginess. "What?!" The word escaped his lips, a mix of shock and frustration evident in his tone.

"He was bullied and made a defensive move, but they were captured by the cops as they fought behind a convenience store building," the secretary explained, weaving a narrative that only added to Jeonghan's growing list of familial challenges. Mingyu, his sister's son, seemed to have an uncanny ability to find trouble at the most inconvenient times, leaving Jeonghan to grapple with the repercussions once again. The responsibility he shouldered for his nephew intensified, adding another layer of complexity to an already tumultuous day.

A curse escaped Jeonghan's lips, a frustrated response to the recurrent challenges posed by his nephew, Kim Mingyu. The young troublemaker seemed to have a knack for causing chaos at the most inconvenient moments, leaving Jeonghan to bear the consequences.

Reflecting on recent incidents, Jeonghan's frustration intensified. Two weeks prior, he found himself reluctantly purchasing an expensive painting after Mingyu 'innocently' sneezed in front of it. A month ago, an expensive plate was shattered at a family gathering, forcing Jeonghan into the heart-wrenching position of apologizing to his grandfather for Mingyu's actions.

Sighing deeply, Jeonghan ended the call after obtaining the address of the police station where Mingyu was detained. The weight of responsibility settled on his shoulders once again. Determined to impart a lesson, Jeonghan knew he had to handle the situation personally.

A decade had passed since the tragic accident that claimed Jeonghan's sister and her husband, thrusting him into the role of responsibility for their son, Mingyu. Initially, the burden was shared with his parents, a delicate balancing act of familial obligations. However, as Mingyu navigated through his teenage years, his penchant for trouble escalated, prompting Jeonghan to shoulder the responsibility more exclusively.

Considering the high schooler's propensity for getting into mischief, Jeonghan made a conscious decision not to burden his aging parents further. He chose to bear the weight of guardianship alone, shielding his elderly parents from the additional stress.

As he prepared to confront Mingyu's latest misadventure at the police station, Jeonghan couldn't help but ponder the alternate scenario. Imagining what would happen if his father received this distressing information brought a shiver down his spine. The elderly patriarch, already burdened with the weight of years, would likely find the news overwhelming.

Jeonghan entered the police station, a heavy sigh escaping his lips as he spotted Mingyu in the detention room, anxiously calling out his name. However, his heartbeat skipped a fraction when his eyes fell upon you, seated in front of the officer. The stark contrast in your attire from the previous night caught him off guard, and confusion clouded his features. The officer introduced you as Mingyu's homeroom teacher, and Jeonghan's mind raced to piece together the unfolding situation.

Jeonghan, torn between frustration and the need to understand the circumstances, addressed the officer, "I'm Jeonghan, Mingyu's guardian. What's going on?"

The officer explained the situation, detailing the fight and emphasizing the need for the guardian's presence before Mingyu could be released. Jeonghan's gaze shifted between you and Mingyu, sensing an air of complexity in the dynamics at play.

Other students had already been released and gone home, but Mingyu remained in captivity. You, as the homeroom teacher, withheld the crucial signature needed for his release until Mingyu's guardian arrived.

"Do you have time to talk after this, sir?" Your polite inquiry caught Jeonghan off guard as you both made your way to the parking lot. His eyes briefly flickered at Mingyu, who observed the peculiar atmosphere between his uncle and his homeroom teacher.

Jeonghan, his curiosity piqued, nodded in agreement, and motioned for Mingyu to wait in the car. As Mingyu stepped out of earshot, Jeonghan's heart raced in anticipation. What could you possibly want to discuss? Was it about the events of last night? Did you remember him as vividly as he remembered you?

The memory of the night played in Jeonghan's mind like a vivid reel. Your tight black dress accentuating every curve, flawless makeup adorned with a bold red lipstick, had captivated him. Yet, it was the sweet and unexpectedly addictive scent of caramel popcorn from your cologne that lingered in his thoughts. What a twisted charm you have.

Standing before him in your teaching attire—a baby blue blouse paired with white wide pants—your natural beauty surpassed Jeonghan's expectations. The sudden shift in his breath caught him off guard as he momentarily lost himself in the understated grace you exuded.

"Mr. Yoon?" Your voice broke through his reverie, bringing him back to the present moment.

"I'm so sorry to cause you trouble. I know Mingyu's family is very busy, but your presence was rather important for him and also for me as his homeroom teacher," you explained, and Jeonghan couldn't help but feel a sense of confusion lingering. The events of last night loomed in the background, and he wondered if they would be addressed.

As he waited for an explanation, you continued, "If you have time tomorrow morning, I would like to have a discussion about Mingyu's future education and career. Here's my contact information: Just in case you couldn't be present tomorrow, please inform me."

 

*

 

Jeonghan found himself in the counseling room of Mingyu's high school, bewildered by an inexplicable impulse that led him to cancel a crucial meeting. Outside, he waited with a strange mix of patience and nervous anticipation, uncertain of the forthcoming conversation. The memory of the recent hotel encounter lingered—an unspoken chapter between you two.

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Yoon. I just finished a class. Thank you for coming. Do you need anything? Tea? Coffee?" Your unexpected presence disrupted Jeonghan's thoughts, prompting him to swiftly adjust his posture as he graciously declined your offer.

Seated across from him, technically in front of the table that acted as a silent mediator, you handed Jeonghan Mingyu's academic report. As he immersed himself in its contents, a narrative of Mingyu's scholastic journey unfolded, a canvas painted with both struggles and untapped potential.

The room held tension, an unspoken dialogue brewing beneath the surface. Jeonghan's eyes moved meticulously over the report, absorbing the nuances of Mingyu's academic challenges juxtaposed with his aspirations.

"As you can discern, Mingyu faces academic challenges. However, he stands as our school's basketball captain with tremendous potential for a professional career," you began, extending another paper containing Mingyu's career aspirations.

The weight of Mingyu's familial background as a businessperson hung in the air. "But, Mr. Yoon, Mingyu himself expressed zero interest in the business industry; his heart is set on pursuing a career in sports."

Jeonghan gently placed the report on the table, his hand following suit. His eyes, now directed at you, betrayed a mix of surprise and realization. "I never knew about this," he confessed, the admission carrying a layer of contemplation.

Jeonghan's mouth grew dry as he spoke, gratitude laced in his words. "Thank you so much for telling me this. Mingyu and I never really had a conversation about his school or his hobby."

You nodded empathetically, acknowledging the complexities of understanding a high schooler. "I understand, Mr. Yoon. Mingyu might seem like a very happy teenager, but we never truly know what's inside his head. I recommend you have a talk with him regarding his future; it'll be a good approach in case you two have different perspectives, and I believe both perspectives are important."

Jeonghan, appreciating the advice, nodded in agreement. "Thank you so much for the suggestion. Ms...?"

You gasped, covering your mouth, in a moment of realization. "Oh my goodness, I haven't introduced myself. Y/n, Ji Y/n. I'm a Korean teacher and also Mingyu's homeroom teacher."

As Jeonghan smiled, he expressed gratitude for Mingyu having a kind and attentive teacher. The mention of considering private school after the last incident hinted at the complexities of Mingyu's situation. "Ms. Ji, I am glad to know that Mingyu has a very kind and attentive teacher in his school. My family has considered sending him to a private school since the last incident. But I don't think we have to."

Jeonghan swore he noticed a faint blush on your cheeks as a soft chuckle escaped you. "It was such a big compliment for a teacher like me, Mr. Yoon," you responded, your tone carrying a modest grace. The unexpected exchange left a subtle warmth in the air, a departure from the serious tone of their earlier conversation.

As the discussion concluded, both of you walked out of the counseling room. Jeonghan nodded appreciatively as you motioned the way to the school entrance, a tacit agreement to walk together. The rhythmic tap of your shoes against the hallway floor echoed the unspoken tension lingering between you two.

Upon reaching the entrance, Jeonghan felt an itch to address the elephant in the room. Did you recognize him from the recent one-night stand just two days ago? "Ms. Ji..." he began, a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

You turned to him, your attention fully on him, a smile gracing your face. Jeonghan, in that moment, found himself captivated by your smile, his gaze unconsciously drawn to your lips. Memories of the recent encounter flickered in his mind, an unexpected longing surfacing.

"Perhaps..." Jeonghan hesitated, his mind wrestling with the question he was about to pose. "Have we ever met before?"

He shook his head hastily, answering his own question before you had the chance. "No," he said, the denial leaving a lingering tension in the air.

"Perhaps you remember me?"

Your eyes widened at his inquiry, and the sudden realization flickered in your gaze. Jeonghan's unspoken question had found its answer.

 

*

 

Your walls were clenching as Jeonghan thrust into you passionately. The way you moan around the room made Jeonghan's head go dizzy. You whisperedly asked him to speed up the pace before your lips met each other, craving the moistness caused by lust.

"You're so tight, baby." Jeonghan's sigh escaped from his mouth as his pelvis moved harder than before, earning your climax. He swore that the way you clenched him had sent him into heaven. Your sinful moans are Beethoven's masterpiece. The way your lips flushed, your cheeks stained red, and your hair stuck to your forehead were magical sights for him.

His left hand roamed your body. Praise them like you are such a goddess of beauty. His finger has met your nerves, and playing it has made your walls clench him even more, making it harder to thrust.

A moan slipped out of his mouth as he could feel your walls tighten and you hit your climax. The thrust became slopier, and it was the moment he felt that he was ready to burst because of you.

"Where do you want it, baby?" Jeonghan whispered in your ear. Thrusting you harder is a sign for you to answer him immediately, or he might burst inside you.

"My mouth, my mouth, please."

Shit, you'll be the death of him.

"Argh.."

Jeonghan's eyes are wide open. He just cummed on his bed while sleeping. Jeonghan blinked, his surroundings shifting from the intimate scene to the familiar sight of his bedroom. The remnants of the dream lingered, leaving him disoriented. He sighed, realizing it was all just a vivid fantasy playing in his subconscious mind. The sensations, the passion—all evaporated as he woke up to the reality of his empty room.

Jeonghan shook his head, trying to dispel the lingering heat of the dream. The intensity of the emotions felt so real, yet he was alone in his bed, his body untouched by the events that had unfolded in his mind.

Jeonghan, dressed in his work attire, couldn't help but notice Mingyu having breakfast at the table. Reflecting on yourr conversation from the previous day, he decided to break his usual routine and take a seat across from his nephew. It had been quite some time since Jeonghan had the chance to grab a morning meal.

As Mingyu chewed his food, his uncle's unexpected presence halted the motion of his jaw. The helper, accustomed to preparing breakfast for Mingyu alone, observed the unusual scene with curiosity. Confusion knitted Mingyu's brow as he wondered about Jeonghan's sudden change in behavior.

Jeonghan broke the silence, "How's school, Mingyu?" Mingyu, caught off guard, stammered a bit before replying, "Great, I have a lot of fun in this school."

Jeonghan nodded, deciding to share his own surprise. He casually mentioned that he had visited Mingyu's school the day before. Mingyu's reaction was unexpected, a slight protest evident on his face. Jeonghan, raising an amused eyebrow, asked, "Why are you so worked up?"

Mingyu confessed, "I don't want to be transferred to another school. What happened last time was a mistake of mine; I failed to control myself." He dropped his head, a mix of guilt and apprehension clouding his expression.

Jeonghan's brow rose, and he clarified, "Who said you're going to be transferred?" Mingyu, bewildered, tried to explain, "I heard that—"

Cutting him off, Jeonghan interjected, "I met your homeroom teacher. She told me you're a really good basketball player in school. Is that true?" A hint of pride and curiosity danced in Jeonghan's eyes, dispelling any misunderstanding that Mingyu might have had.

Mingyu's cheeks colored with embarrassment as he shrugged, "I don't know. She's praising me so much by saying that to you."

Jeonghan chuckled softly, a playful glint in his eyes. "Do you want to go to a sports school in the future?" he asked, curious about Mingyu's aspirations, although he already had a good idea of the answer.

Mingyu shrugged back, asking tentatively, "Would you let me?"

Mirroring Mingyu's movement, Jeonghan replied, "Of course, why not?"

A wide smile lit up Mingyu's face upon hearing his uncle's supportive words. His laughter bubbled with excitement as he processed what had just transpired. "No way! Is Ms. Ji behind this?" Mingyu shook his head in disbelief. "Woah, Ms. Ji... Woah! I can't believe this."

Jeonghan observed his nephew's elation with amusement, his mind already brewing with a mischievous idea. "With one condition," he added, immediately causing Mingyu's smile to drop.

"What is it?" Mingyu asked impatiently.

Jeonghan rose from his seat, finishing his breakfast and preparing to leave for work. Just as he was about to go, he turned his head toward Mingyu and dropped a bombshell, "Set me up with Ms. Ji."

He walked away, leaving Mingyu stunned and taken aback by his uncle's unexpected request. The air hung with a mix of surprise and anticipation as Mingyu processed the playful twist his uncle had added to the morning conversation.

[often-daydreaming]

Keep Running

In between one moment and the next reality quakes and for the briefest of moments Jason finds himself standing in the remnants of a destroyed Star City. He knows it's not real, that it's just some magical mumbo jumbo overlaying memory magic nonsense bleeding into their timeline but he can smell the smoke in the air from the fires and hear her tired laughter as the static filled image of a red haired woman sits down beside him. He knows her or at least this version of him does as they talk about the little suicide run they were planning in order to hopefully end things for good and Jason can feel how tired his alternate self is as he takes a seat on the ground beside her. It's all a rush of emotions and faint memories that were getting harder and harder to ignore before he's suddenly back on the Watchtower with every other available hero the League could call in stuck arguing about these stupid visions affecting heroes and villains all over the globe if some of Ra's latest movements were any indication. His men were searching everywhere for answers while others like Luthor were making more subtle inquiries. The only upside to all of this was the reactions coming out of Arkham but that didn't mean he wanted to be up here with the League nearly at each other's throats.

With everything he's managing to piece together through a couple of brief check-ins with Dickie and the girls he could see why B wanted answers.

As morbid as it sounded Dick and the others were a few of the lucky ones who were able to be pulled out of their memories faster since they were at ground zero when the Watchtower was pulled out of orbit. The quicker you died the quicker it was over but neither of them were as lucky.

In those jumbled memories him and Bruce were the only two left after Gotham went up in flames since Phantom went after them first and there were still a few lingering effects clinging to that since he could still remember what the older version of himself felt. It was somewhat muted now but some of it was still there and if he focused hard enough Jason could still see the makeshift doctor's office in his mind. He could feel the phantom pain and see her flowing red hair. She seemed so relieved to find him alive and he wanted his own answers but Impulse was in the wind.

The little speedster was gone before anyone could really recover from the sudden onslaught of memories and while Bruce was doing everything he could to figure out a plan of sorts the others weren't as lucky with Superman stuck bouncing between the moments of his own brutal death and worrying about his family's safety. Whoever or whatever Phantom was, he knew exactly where to hurt them with Jon nearly losing it in public after being forced to live through the memories of his mom dying and the man of steel's own death at the hands of some magical Martian whatever.

Wonder Woman seemed the most put together out of everyone but even she was kind of twitchy, her had never leaving the pummel of her sword as Zatara went over what he could piece together on his own since the bulk of JLD was still out of commission.

His own daughter was comatose from the magical backlash of whatever this was while Constantine was just missing, his home a mess of overturned books and hurried scribbles which left them on the back foot for now since the only solid lead anyone had was Impulse and Young Justice was closing ranks around their missing speedster.

With JLD in shambles and Ra's on the move Replacement was running his own investigation into whatever was going on and shutting everyone else out of his systems after the first attempt at locating Impulse through his tracker backfired horribly.

I blame my cough medicine and a love for Fallout for whatever this is turning into but I felt like adding onto Run a little. I wouldn't even begin to know how to explain it but I just have this image in my head of Bart and Danny in a Fallout like world but the whole memory thing could be anything really. I just like the idea of reality shifting to the left just enough that Bart suddenly remembers details about his past he'd forgotten thanks to time travel/reality resetting and he suddenly remembers Danny while the rest of his team remember bits and pieces of their missing teammate Phantom. Everyone else just gets doomsday memories cause I really don't care and mostly think it's funny so I'm either blaming this on the gauntlet from the movie or Clockwork but anyone could add something else if they want.

[howtofightwrite]

thank you for the clear, honest response! but i will admit to being caught off-guard since i wasn't suggesting the scenario from the protagonist's point of view at all, but rather from an antagonist or villain sort of perspective. i went in with the assumption that it was the less morally upright person making violent actions (i.e kidnapping) and the hero protagonist experiencing the fallout.

your words felt very much like what i was trying to say in acknowledging that it's dangerous, but more concise; perhaps i simply was overzealous in crafting the scenario? i am sorry for giving the wrong impression.

it might be helpful to state that it was actually my only ask to this blog aside from this one; it has no connection to other inquiries regarding heroes taking violent action. i might have had the impression that a previous anon was writing a detective story of sorts, where the protagonist was dealing with opponents who wouldn't hesitate to use violence, and thougnt to state what i felt could be done to keep the protagonist's head relatively intact despite head injuries. my apologies for the broad assumption!

Yeah, without wanting to light you up this time, the problem with the scenario is a little deeper than I might have addressed in the previous comment. And, in fairness to you, that was a long ask, and Tumblr doesn't accommodate my preferences for how to fully respond to comments like that. (Which is to say, break it into pieces, and deal with each part independently.)

The problem you're running into is an idea that heroes and villains view violence from fundamentally different perspectives. In isolation, this isn't automatically a bad thing, but it does leave you vulnerable to engaging in some classic Saturday morning cartoon grade philosophy. “The bad guys only use violence because they're bad, but the good guys only use violence because they're good.”

Again, if this fully terminated in a discussion about how proportional use of force can be an appropriate, or sometimes even a necessary, response, that would be one thing. Unfortunately, a lot of writers stop at that point, and internalize a double standard for violence based on an artificial delineation that doesn't even exist in their characters' world.

There are a lot of reasons that the author can pull hard for their protagonists, and those will spill over onto the audience. The protagonist is (probably) the character the author identifies most with. As the primary PoV character, the protagonist is in the best position to advocate for their own thought process. Due to sheer exposure, and whatever adversity the protagonist has experienced up to that point, they audience is also likely to be more sympathetic to the protagonist's position.

This does mean, when your protagonist starts going over the line, your audience is going to be less critical of their actions. At least, up to a point. You can take this all too far, and lose your audience, which is part of where our cautions about violence come from. But that's an adjacent issue.

However, within your world, it's important to assess when, and how, characters use force based on who they are. And, in fairness to you, that was something you were partially conscious of. The critical hiccup was that the roles of protagonist and antagonist are agnostic to who these characters are in your world. People will use whatever tools are appropriate for completing their objectives, regardless whether you think they're the hero or villain. That includes, potentially, use of force.

The distinction I made poorly is that your kidnappers don't use force because they're the villains, but they use it because it's a critical tool for doing their job. I'm struggling to come up with a scenario where you'd have a human trafficker as the protagonist of your story, but it's not going to fundamentally alter their approach to violence, nor their methods. (Not saying the scenario is impossible, but it would run the risk of being extremely distasteful.)

Perhaps, a more palatable example would be an assassin. They're still popular as edgelord protagonists, and can just as easily be antagonists. However, they also do a fantastic job of illustrating that the hero or villain status doesn't (especially) alter the evaluation of whether they're a protagonist or antagonist. Leaving a large body count, in either case, simply means that that something got out of control, and in either case, this is someone who's been killing people.

Something that might seem like a non-sequitor at first, coming out of the Patreon Discord server last week, was a reminder that, when you're using the D&D alignment chart, you can absolutely end up with evil protagonists. Not even in the sense of villainous protagonists, like with The Godfather films and novel, but characters who are genuinely the hero of the story, and evil. My preferred example of this remains Jack Bauer (Keifer Sutherland) from 24.

The inverse is much rarer. Some Javier-style investigators probably fit the bill of good-aligned villains. Though, these are usually paired against criminal protagonists, or at least protagonists who've been framed or falsely accused.

The reason this tangent is relevant is twofold. First, it's important to remember that your protagonist can be evil. They can, absolutely, be a bad person. As mentioned earlier, because they're your PoV, they'll get some deference from the audience simply from being their primary point of access to the world. Second, concepts like good and evil may be far more determinative over their use of violence, but the idea of protagonists and antagonists exist independently of that. Who your characters are will have a much bigger impact on the degree of violence they'll be comfortable with inflicting.

Beyond this, there is a real problem for a lot of writers, who think about violence with that Saturday morning cartoon logic. It's absolutely fine to have extremely violent protagonists, however, the question you need to start with is whether that violence fits with who they are, outside of their role in the story you're telling.

Related to this, and it drives a lot of the, “I want a protagonist who doesn't kill people,” is the idea that your protagonist needs to be a good person. They don't. And having a protagonist who inflicts grievous harm on people, but stops short of actually killing them doesn't absolve them of the harm they're causing. You can argue that someone who tortures someone, “for good reasons,” and finishes with a mock execution is less evil than someone who does the same but simply executes their victim when they're done, but both of these are pretty evil acts across the board, and you'd be pretty hard pressed to argue that the former is fully innocent, when lasting harm has been inflicted upon their victim.

So, ultimately, as a general rule, knockouts don't work. It's a kind of moral hand-wringing that authors engage in because they're afraid of their characters being perceived as bad people, or because they want a consequence free way to close out a fight scene. Just like in the real world, knockouts don't really do what the author wants, because they're, at best, a deferment on future violence. The impulse to preserve your character's moral high ground is certainly understandable, but in most cases, this method will be detrimental to your work as a whole. It reduces the tension from future violence, as your reader now knows that there's an easy out with no lasting consequences. There are ways to have consequence free fights (such as characters managing to create an opening and escape), but the hard knockouts don't work as well as you might hope. I'd hesitate to call knockouts, “bad writing,” but they certainly open the door to some of our worst impulses as writers. Impulses we really need to resist, as they don't lead to better stories, just more contrived scenarios.

-Starke

This blog is supported through Patreon. Patrons get access to new posts three days early, and direct access to us through Discord. If you’re already a Patron, thank you. If you’d like to support us, please consider becoming a Patron.

[nayziiz]

No Way | LN4

Summary: Lando Norris, an F1 driver for McLaren Racing, faces persistent attention on his single status. In an attempt to appease fans and quell rumours, his management suggests a fake relationship with a popular Portuguese model. However, Lando's PR manager, Natalie, disagrees, believing fans would see through the ploy. As an alternative, Lando's management notices the genuine bond between him and Natalie and proposes they feign a relationship for authenticity. Initially hesitant, they agree, given their existing friendship and professional connection. The fake relationship takes an unexpected turn as Lando and Natalie grapple with burgeoning real feelings, attempting unsuccessfully to conceal their growing emotions.

Pairing: Lando Norris x Original Character (Natalie)

Warnings: Mentions of physical and emotional abuse

Masterlist

CHAPTER 3

“Hey, we have some gorgeous Aussie girls.” The Australian podcast host teases as they end the episode featuring Lando.

The teasing remark hangs in the air, a lighthearted attempt to inject humour into the conversation. Natalie, ever vigilant about maintaining a professional image for Lando, takes note of such comments. The challenges of managing public perception and steering clear of potential controversies in the world of Formula 1 become evident once again. As the podcast episode concludes, Natalie prepares to address any potential fallout or inquiries that may arise from such remarks, emphasising the delicate balance between humour and the need to maintain a respectful and inclusive public image for Lando.

In the quiet moments of transitioning from the podcast studio to the track inspections, Natalie remains attentive to the surroundings, always mindful of the public image they present. As the car manoeuvres through Melbourne traffic, the dynamic between Lando and Natalie shifts into a silent atmosphere, something quite unusual for the pair.

“You’re quiet.” Lando comments as he focuses on the cars ahead of him. Natalie turns the music louder to muffle the silence. “No. Tell me what’s on your mind.”

The gentle persistence in Lando’s voice prompts Natalie to consider opening up. The hum of the engine and the music becomes a backdrop to the unspoken connection between them.

“I’m sorry.” She mumbles as she looks out the window.

“For what? Did you take one of my hoodies again?” Lando responds as he turns to glance at her before reverting his eyes to the road ahead of him.

“No, nothing like that.” She quickly clarifies. “I’m sorry that you have to keep dealing with this silly stuff about being single and everyone trying to play matchmaker.”

“You don’t have to apologise for that. It’s not your fault.” He assures her.

After his phone call with Max, Lando found himself reflecting on the dynamics of his relationship with Natalie. The realisation dawned upon him that he cannot, and should not, expect her to continuously rearrange her life to accommodate the demands of the media or the public's curiosity. The weight of being under constant scrutiny and the pressure to conform to certain expectations has started to wear on him and he wanted to spare her that.

Lando understands that Natalie has her own life, aspirations, and personal journey, independent of their professional partnership, especially after the abrupt ending to her relationship. The awareness that she shouldn't be compelled to play the role of a pretend girlfriend, even for the sake of managing his public image, settles in. It becomes clear that expecting her to endure such a facade could strain their genuine friendship.

This realisation marks a maturation in Lando's perspective, emphasising the importance of respecting Natalie's autonomy and recognizing the boundaries between their personal and professional lives. While the external pressures persist, he understands that imposing additional burdens on Natalie for the sake of appearances is neither fair nor sustainable.

“But, there is a way I can help.” She continues causing him to turn back to her. “I could just pretend to be your girlfriend, after all.”

Natalie's unexpected proposal hangs in the air, creating a momentary pause in the car. Her suggestion, while delivered with a hint of jest, carries a weight of sincerity. Lando looks at her, registering the offer and contemplating the potential implications. The notion of Natalie stepping into the role of a fake girlfriend introduces a complex layer to their relationship, blurring the lines between the personal and the professional. Natalie's willingness to extend herself for Lando's benefit reveals a depth of trust and loyalty. Yet, the proposal also raises questions about the potential consequences for their dynamic, challenging the delicate balance they've maintained so far.

“Please don’t feel pressured to do that.” He quickly responds, shocked by her change of heart.

Lando's swift and sincere response reflects his concern for Natalie and an understanding of the potential challenges that could arise from such a proposal. The unexpected offer has caught him off guard, and he wants to ensure that Natalie doesn't feel compelled to take on a role that might compromise her comfort or well-being. The genuine care between them becomes palpable in this moment, emphasising the importance of preserving their authentic connection amidst the pressures and demands of their high-profile lives

“Let me help you, please.” She urges him. “I’ve given this enough thought and it does make the most sense for me to be your fake girlfriend.”

“Are you sure?” He queries.

“Yeah.” She agrees.

“I’d rather it be you than anyone else, honestly.” He breathes a sigh of relief, and deep down, Natalie is relieved to see him relax for the first time in weeks.

As they embark on this uncharted territory of a fake relationship, Natalie grapples with the myriad of potential complications that could arise. The boundaries between their professional and personal lives blur, introducing a layer of complexity that neither of them could have anticipated. Natalie's concern about the possible consequences of this arrangement lingers beneath the surface, overshadowed by the desire to alleviate the pressure on Lando.

The uncertainty looms large – what if genuine feelings begin to surface in the midst of this charade? The prospect of Lando or herself forming real connections outside of this orchestrated scenario adds another layer of intricacy. However, in the midst of these uncertainties, Lando and Natalie find a shared resolve to face the unknown together, hoping that their genuine connection will guide them through the complexities that lie ahead.

- LATER THAT DAY - “Alright, it’s happening.” Natalie announces as she hands Lando her phone open on Instagram with a picture of the two of them, his arm around her shoulders as he looks lovingly at her. The post is followed by a second photo, capturing a moment where Lando places a soft kiss on her temple.

The decision to go public with their faux relationship is made, and social media becomes their stage. The carefully crafted images convey a narrative of affection and closeness, tailored to fit the expectations of their audience. As Natalie hands Lando her phone, they take a collective breath, knowing that these carefully curated moments are now part of the public domain.

The comments and reactions begin to pour in, as fans and followers respond to this seemingly intimate portrayal of their relationship. The challenge lies in maintaining the delicate balance between authenticity and performance, ensuring that the staged moments are convincing enough to fulfil their purpose without becoming entangled in the complexities of their real emotions.

“That was quick.” Lando mumbles as he scrolls through the photos. “A fan took this?”

“Looks like someone who had a paddock pass. There’s a video from a different angle as well as we’re walking into the garage.” Natalie confirms. “A couple weeks like this then we can soft launch completely.”

The speed at which the images have circulated takes Lando by surprise, emphasising the intensity of the Formula 1 spotlight. As they assess the initial fan reactions and engagement, Natalie strategically plans the next steps. The decision to gradually transition into a more public display of their fake relationship reflects a careful approach to managing expectations and maintaining an air of authenticity.

The two sit on the couch in his hotel room, huddled close together, scrolling through Instagram. They read through all the comments on the posts, absorbing the range of reactions from fans and followers. The digital realm becomes a realm of both curiosity and scrutiny as they navigate the public's response to their newfound relationship status.

Some comments express excitement and support, while others scrutinise the authenticity of their connection. Lando and Natalie exchange glances, acknowledging the complexities of the game they've chosen to play.

User1: Now we know why she kept stopping him from talking about his relationship status, she was scared he would reveal she’s his girlfriend.

“God, they’re giving us all the prompts to make this the greatest fake relationship ever.” Natalie comments.

“And, you hesitated at first.” Lando teases her.

“The key thing now is to act like we’re keeping it a secret and address any questions.” Natalie continues.

The only people who knew about the arrangement were Zak, Charlotte, and Max. The more people who knew, the bigger the chances of the secret coming out. The trio of confidantes held the delicate balance of information, understanding the consequences of even a minor leak. With each additional person brought into the circle, the risk of the truth surfacing increased, adding an element of suspense to their carefully orchestrated narrative. The trio became the guardians of the fabricated reality, entrusted with preserving the illusion that Lando and Natalie were more than just colleagues in the public eye.

- THE NEXT DAY -

Natalie stands in front of the screens studying the statistics flashing in front of her, not really paying attention to anything specific. Lando joins her and they share a small smile as he presses his arm against her. The subtle yet intimate gestures between Lando and Natalie unfold in the midst of their professional environment. The shared smiles and physical closeness create an unspoken connection, hinting at the depths of their faux relationship. The mechanics, although observant, maintain their focus on the task at hand, acknowledging the unique dynamics between the two without letting it disrupt their work.Lando’s fingers tease Natalie’s before he interlocks his pinky with hers as they continue to watch the screens in front of them. He leans down next to her ear and pulls her headset off her head.

“We’ve got some eyes on us.” He whispers in her ear. A small smile grows on her face as she studies the area and finds a photographer close by snapping photos of the cars and of the crew around the car.

The realisation of being observed adds a layer of intrigue to their staged relationship. As they play their parts, the awareness of being scrutinised by a photographer fuels the need to maintain the illusion. The subtle chemistry between Lando and Natalie becomes a performance, a carefully crafted act that extends beyond their interactions into the public eye.

Natalie peers up at Lando who peers down at her. He plants a loving kiss on her cheek and throws in a cheeky wink before he heads to gear up for qualifying. After a few minutes, Natalie finds herself on Instagram. Her mentions are blowing up with tagged pictures of the two in the garage.

The staged affection between Lando and Natalie becomes fodder for social media as fans eagerly capture and share moments from the garage. The kiss on the cheek and the playful wink are amplified through the lens of social media, creating a buzz around their supposed relationship. Natalie, navigating through the influx of tagged pictures on Instagram, becomes acutely aware of the impact their carefully orchestrated gestures have on their online presence.

User1: Okay. The PDA in the garage is too sweet.

User2: They look so in love.

The newfound closeness between Lando and Natalie brings an unexpected comfort to the charade. Lando's genuine concern for Natalie's well-being, even within the confines of their fake relationship, adds a layer of authenticity to their interactions. As they navigate the complexities of this arrangement, the initial discomfort transforms into a shared understanding that extends beyond the public eye. The fading questions about Lando's relationship status indicate the effectiveness of their strategy in steering the media's attention away from his personal life.

“Hey, you good?” Lando asks as he reappears next to her in his race suit. Her head snaps in his direction.

“Yeah, just zoned out.” She responds.

“Must be your boyfriend getting you all distracted.” Lando jokes.

“Can only be him.” She jokingly adds as the two share a laugh.

The surprising ease with which Lando and Natalie slip into the physical aspects of their fake relationship leaves them both astounded. The seemingly natural fit of their bodies, the intertwining of fingers, and the subtle touches create a facade that, to the outside world, appears unquestionably genuine. Lando finds himself revelling in the comfort of her presence, savouring the moments when her fingers delicately trace his back or when she leans her head against his shoulder. Despite the charade, there's an unspoken connection that goes beyond the script they're following. It's a testament to the strength of their bond, even in the midst of a fabricated romance that, for now, feels remarkably real.

He grabs his phone lying on the desk in front of them and opens his Instagram and spots a picture of the two chatting in the garage.

“Isn’t this from Sakhir?” He asks Natalie and turns the phone to show her the photo.

“Yeah, it is.” She responds and takes the phone from him to study the picture. “They’re going back to find clues as to when our supposed relationship started.”

As Natalie hands Lando his phone, their fingers inadvertently graze each other, sending a subtle shiver down their spines. She purposely avoids making eye contact, choosing instead to focus on her tablet, where she diligently types notes and sends emails. Lando, captivated by the graceful movements of her fingers, remains by her side, stealing glances whenever he can. The softness of her hands and the gentle precision with which she works leave an impression on him.

His attention shifts from her hands to her tanned arms, appreciating the confidence with which she carries herself in the midst of a bustling crowd. Despite her poise, he recalls the endearing moments of her occasional clumsiness. Lando fondly remembers catching her when she tripped over her own feet, marvelling at the way she would blush and offer profuse apologies for her lack of coordination. These instances of vulnerability only deepen his admiration for her.

Feeling the weight of Lando's gaze, Natalie notices his unwavering attention on her hands. She finds it amusing and decides to playfully break his trance. Gently, she runs a finger over his cheek, eliciting a subtle smile as he snaps out of his daze.

“Where were you now?” Natalie, aware of Lando's tendency to dissociate, gently questions his momentary absence.

“Not here, that’s for sure.” He sighs as he gazes at her. Their eyes meet, and in the depths of her dark green eyes, he finds a connection, grounding him back to the reality they are navigating together.

Lando, grappling with unexpected thoughts and sensations, chooses not to disclose the peculiar image that flashed through his mind—a vivid imagination of Natalie's fingers running through his curly hair. Perplexed by this unanticipated mental image, he seeks refuge in the familiar presence of his best friend, hoping to redirect his focus and understand the sudden surge of emotions stirred by the charade they've embarked upon.

“I need to talk to you.” Lando breathes as he shuts the door behind him.

“What’s up? You look stressed.” Max wonders curiously.

“Does she look different to you? Like, has she changed her hair or done her make-up differently?” Lando quickly asks.

“Natalie?” Max queries. “No, mate. She looks like herself. Why?”

“I’m going mad.” Lando responds.

“What are you talking about?” Max counters.

“I was just with her, and then all of a sudden, I’m thinking of her grabbing my hair, man.” Lando admits. “And, like kissing me.”

“Do you want her to kiss you?” Max implores, fueling Lando’s hysterics.

“What?” Lando mutters. “No. Yes. I don’t know.”

“I think you fancy her.” Max concludes.

“I do not.” Lando argues.

“You always have and now that she’s single and pretending to be your fake girlfriend, it’s all adding up in your head.” Max explains. Lando remains silent for a moment, processing Max's words.

“Maybe there's a tiny part of me that finds her attractive. But that's not the point. We're just faking this relationship to get the media off my back. I can’t fancy her. That’s off the table, completely.” Lando he sighs and admits

“So, what are you going to do when you have to hold her hand on a fake date? Or when you actually have to kiss her for a photo?” Max adds. “You’ll still fancy her, regardless.”

Lando slumps into the chair in defeat. The realisation hits Lando that the fake relationship might bring unforeseen challenges, especially considering the growing feelings he's trying to suppress. As he contemplates the upcoming scenarios Max mentioned, he begins to understand the complexities of the situation and the potential for emotions to complicate the arrangement.

---------------------------

Taglist: @noneofyourfbusinessworld

[lunawho47]

Ok, I've refrained from making an official post on anything related to the Watcher Entertainment situation (I've reblogged but kept silent on my general thoughts), mostly because after that first weekend I had hoped most of the hate posting from so-called "fans" would blow over and we could resume our regular lives.

But it hasn't stopped. Every time something new from Watcher drops, people use it as an opportunity to post hatred about Steven Lim (which is disgusting and you should all be ashamed of yourselves) or show a grievous misunderstanding of how the company makes money.

A few days ago, the company apparently sent out a mass email to the subscribers of WatcherTV (and I say "apparently" because I am subscriber to WatcherTV and got no such email, and I've checked my deleted emails and junk mail) about a forthcoming sponsor made episode of one of their shows. Based on the screenshot I read of the email, they said it was originally going to be a YouTube exclusive, but after having gotten some inquiries from WatcherTV subscribers requesting they put it on the website, they were taking a poll to see if the people wanted it to be YouTube exclusive or to have the sponsored episode on the website.

People were acting like WatcherTV had run off with their money because after setting up a subscriber based streaming service, they were still going to be doing sponsored content. Y'know, the thing they wanted to leave YouTube originally. And people are acting like Watcher is saying that their money isn't enough and the subscribers are being ripped off.

And yeah, your money isn't enough. And that's the fandom's fault.

Originally, the idea was that if you didn't pay for the subscription service, you were going to miss out on a good chunk of their content going forward. The fandom gave a huge, riotous outcry about it and they backtracked to make it so that everything would eventually be on YouTube. WatcherTV subscribers just get it earlier (a month only.) That means that they aren't making a large amount of money from their subscription service because only the die-hards who have the money to spend are bothering to pay money to see content a month early. Most people don't mind waiting a month. (Hell, for years I had to wait longer than that to see DW in the US after it premiered in the UK over six months before. Needless to say, spoilers never bother me because it was how I engaged with the more British based DW audience for four whole years.)

So, yeah, they're going to have to do sponsorships, even with people investing in WatcherTV. And I am fucking sick and tired of seeing people complain about it. If you want them to keep making content and most of the fandom complains about the boys DARING to ask for them to pay to see it, then you're going to have deal with whole episodes of shows that are based around promoting games and films.

They have not stolen your money from you or lied to you about the situation. You're just either very naive about what the fallout of the fandom's tantrum would be or you're being willfully ignorant so that you can feel yourself righteously angry (but, sorry. You're wrong there. You're not righteously angry, just stupidly so.)

[beardedmrbean]

A New York Times columnist criticized "antiracist" guru Ibram Kendi’s philosophy as "reductionistic" and "strident" while slamming the academic institutions, businesses and donors that bought into the notion in the aftermath of George Floyd’s murder.

Times columnist Pamela Paul wrote on Thursday that institutions pushing Kendi’s school of thought were going "against the enlightened principles on which many of those institutions were founded — free inquiry, freedom of speech, a diversity of perspectives."

Paul’s column is the latest hit on Kendi, whose reputation has been damaged in recent weeks following news that his antiracism center at Boston University had undergone major layoffs.

In the fallout from these layoffs, workers came forward with bombshell allegations that the center "exploited" staff and "blew through" millions of dollars in grant money while failing to deliver on its promises.

Paul began her piece with comment on Kendi’s fall from grace and then continued with an examination of why so many cultural institutions bought into his mantras in the first place.

She wrote, "The recent turmoil at Ibram X. Kendi’s Center for Antiracist Research at Boston University, with more than half its staff laid off and half its budget cut amid questions of what it did with the nearly $55 million it raised, led to whoops of schadenfreude from Kendi’s critics and hand wringing from his loyal fans."

After noting how both right and left viewed Kendi, as either "what was right or wrong with America’s racial reckoning since the police murder of George Floyd," she wrote that it is "more interesting" that he was so propped up considering his "simplistic" ideas.

"More interesting is that many major universities, corporations, nonprofit groups and influential donors thought buying into Kendi’s strident, simplistic formula — that racism is the cause of all racial disparities and that anyone who disagrees is a racist — could eradicate racial strife and absolve them of any role they may have played in it," Paul wrote.

She rebuked these institutions, adding, "After all, this reductionist line of thinking runs squarely against the enlightened principles on which many of those institutions were founded — free inquiry, freedom of speech, a diversity of perspectives."

But because of their support, Paul added, "Kendi’s ideas gained prominence, often to the exclusion of all other perspectives."

After giving a brief history of how the racial thinker developed his ideas, the columnist claimed there are better, more nuanced ideas of confronting racism.

She first cited Kendi’s 2019 book, "How to Be an Antiracist," which was the basis for much of the antiracist thought that made him an often-cited expert in the George Floyd era.

Paula wrote, "In this book, Kendi made clear that to explore reasons other than racism for racial inequities, whether economic, social or cultural, is to promote anti-black policies. ‘The only remedy to racist discrimination is antiracist discrimination,' Kendi wrote, in words that would be softened in a future edition after they became the subject of criticism."

She summarized this assessment, adding, "In other words, two wrongs do make a right. As practiced, that meant curriculums that favor works by Black people over white people is one way to achieve that goal; hiring quotas are another."

Paula also noted how antiracism "requires a commitment" to "active opposition to sexism, homophobia, colorism, ethnocentrism, nativism, cultural prejudice and any class biases that supposedly harm Black lives. To deviate from any of this is to be racist. You’re either with us or you’re against us."

The columnist slammed these ideas, arguing that individuals can advocate less extreme positions and still be considered not racist. "Contra Kendi, there are conscientious people who advocate racial neutrality over racial discrimination. It isn’t necessarily naive or wrong to believe that most Americans aren’t racist," she said, adding, "To believe that white supremacists exist in this country but that white supremacy is not the dominant characteristic of America in 2023 is also an acceptable position."

Paula concluded the piece advocating for a "more nuanced and open-minded conversation around racism and a commitment to more diverse visions of how to address it."

[dyad-tmesis]

Who fell first?

It’s been so long since I’ve touched my inbox I forgot which au youre asking about 💀💀💀

I’m assuming you’re asking about Jekyll and Lanyon in my fallout au so…

Hard to say when I first thought about it! They certainly had feelings for eachother that lead into love, but they were different feelings. With some thinking I will say for certain that it had to have been Jekyll to recognize that what he felt for Lanyon was romantic.

Even in a fallout setting Lanyon is Lanyon and he’s a heartbreaker, it took him a bit longer than Jekyll to realize his feelings were genuine after being so used to playing with others emotions.

[unmerrymagdalene]

My dash is ALIGHT with people discussing the Syd/Sidris dynamic lol. I feel like you have CRACKED THIS CASE WIDE OPEN. Now there will be an inquiry, an investigation, and Sirris will be forced to answer for their crimes

Aww really? That’s so nice of you to say! I think about Sydney as a character a whole lot, and their relationship with Sirris has always given me brain worms lol

I remember first thinking “how do those two live under the same roof” until I realized, oh! They don’t talk about anything substantial! They just prefer being happy/ignorant over being genuine and facing the fallout!

And Sirris feels/felt like a “perfect” parent for a teenager: what if your parent was cool about sex! You don’t have to hide anything or sneak around, they’re completely chill! Almost every teenager is begging for that

And when the only person who’s objecting is their weird (this is a post for another time but Sydney is such a fundamentally lonely person before PC meets them, they has no friends imo) churchy kid, it’s easier to ignore Sirris obsessive tendencies. Like whhhy are you showing off a sex tape that YOU ARE IN to your class. Why are you invested in your kid’s sex life. Answer quickly-

[ljesak]

🌲pinned🌲

im Maki, a 21 year old hobbyist artist from serbia currently majoring in compsci ! I have a bunch of interests, main ones being art (visual and writing), philosophy, sociology, media analysis, biology and video games as a storytelling medium

✦ main fandoms: warrior cats, elder scrolls, fallout, furry

✦ i engage with various other things too but these are the biggest!

✦ when it comes to art i enjoy portraying atmosphere and emotion, subjects are varied as im interested in too many things to settle on only few! I do wanna make more oc content, though and finally branch out into humans

✦ i enjoy a plethora of movies/books/shows/games etc. but it felt bloated to include them all here

✦ art is under #art tag !

my characters: https://toyhou.se/ljesak (art with them is tagged with their name, ex. laurie)

✦ other socials and commission info: https://ljesak.carrd.co/

I open commissions sporadically, my messages are open for inquiries

more about art/stuff i like!

video games: fallout nv, what remains of edith finch, disco elyisum, the talos principle, witcher 3, skyrim, firewatch, SOMA, beginner's guide, baldur's gate 3, outlast franchise, cyberpunk 2077, citizen sleeper, fran bow, undertale, outer wilds, the unfinished swan,, there's def more but those are the favs i rmbr so far. i want to get into dragon age and mass effect

webcomics im currently reading and enjoying: What Lurks Beneath, Lackadaisy, Oren's Forge, Golden Shrike, I Hope So, Tofauti Sawa

shows: bojack horseman, atypical (except the 4th season that one was awful), midnight gospel, dungeon meshi, atla, dragon hunters, arcane... i did watch many shows but i remember these personally resonated. i need to watch more shows in general but they are quite a big time investment

films: most of miyazaki's work, favs being princess mononoke and spiried away, WALL-E, coraline, ratatouille, I'm thinking of ending things, the eternal sunshine of the spotless mind... and more. i tend to prefer animation over live action as it's more expressive (obv not always the case)

again i did watch more movies id consider good but not personally meaningful enough to mention

books: i mostly read philosophical texts and fiction!! my fav authors are probably meša selimović and chomsky but i really need to expand my horizons with books, I'm least experimental with them, so its classics mostly unless i get a good recommendation

music: mostly indie folk/rock but i do listen to most genres, fav artists rn are Lord Huron, Daughter, Wickerbird, Slowdive, Warpaint, Arcade Fire, Wilsen, Aphex Twin and more!! i rlly love ambient music too so a lot of the games i mentioned previously have gorgeous soundtracks

will probably edit this periodically as i remember more things !!

[soulofapatrick]

Heart’s Desire 2/2 - Simon Lewis x female reader

Summary: after talking with Alec you go find Simon

Words: 1.9k

Warnings: non really; a little angst

Y/N’s POV

As I step into the familiar confines of the institute, Simon tailing behind me like a lost puppy, his presence a comforting anchor in the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside me. The air is heavy with tension, a silent reminder of the events that unfolded in the Seelie Court, and I can’t help but feel a knot of guilt tightening in my chest. 

Jace is the first to notice our arrival, his keen eyes narrowing as he takes in our somber expressions. He raises an eyebrow in silent inquiry, a silent question hanging in the air like a sword waiting to fall. "What happened?" he asks, his voice laced with concern. "Why is Clary so mad and upset?”

The weight of his question hangs heavily between us, and I swallow hard, the guilt threatening to suffocate me. How do I even begin to explain the tangled mess of emotions that led us to this point? How do I put into words the conflicting desires and fears that churn inside me like a tempest?

I glance at Simon, his expression almost pleading, and I can feel the weight of his uncertainty pressing down on me like a leaden blanket. It's as if he's bracing himself for rejection, for the inevitable fallout of our tangled emotions now that we're back in the real world where consequences cannot be easily swept aside. I have to swallow hard before I turn back to Jace, the bitterness of my words tasting like ash on my tongue.

“Stupid Queen playing her sick jokes," I mutter, the frustration and anger seeping into my voice. The words hang heavy in the air, and I see Simon flinch, a small sound escaping him that feels like a punch to the gut. I shake my head, unable to meet his gaze as I grumble out, "I need to find Alec."

Without waiting for a response, I turn on my heel and head out of the main room, the weight of everything that's happened pressing down on me like a physical burden. I stride down the corridor towards the bedrooms, each step a deliberate effort to put distance between myself and the overwhelming emotions that threaten to consume me.

As I push open Alec's door with a sense of urgency, the familiar sight of his room greets me, offering a sanctuary amidst the chaos of my emotions. But my respite is short-lived as Magnus lets out a sound of surprise, his eyes widening in astonishment as I enter unannounced.

“Get out Mags.” I say to him, my voice tinged with urgency, gaze unwavering as Magnus glances between me and his husband in bed beside him. 

“You can’t kick me out of my own bed.” Magnus retorts, a challenge in the raise of his eyebrow as he waits for Alec's response. But Alec merely tilts his head slightly, his gaze fixed on me with an intensity that sends a shiver down my spine. It's unnerving how he always seems to be able to read me like a damn book, seeing through the facade I try so hard to maintain.

As Magnus huffs in frustration, he snaps his fingers, and suddenly he’s fully dressed and climbing out of bed, his movements swift and decisive. “Fine,” He mutters, tone laced with a hint of annoyance, “I’ll go get some coffee.” 

With a swirl of his jacket, Magnus strides towards the door, leaving Alec and me alone in the quiet intimacy of his room. As the door clicks shut behind him, Alec still doesn’t move, his eyes fixed on me with an unreadable expression. It causes me to swallow hard, feeling a surge of vulnerability wash over me as I meet Alec's gaze. But there's no judgment in his eyes, only a quiet understanding that fills me with a sense of comfort and warmth.

Slowly, tentatively, I climb into the spot Magnus just vacated, curling up beside Alec with a sense of relief that floods through me like a tidal wave. His warmth envelopes me like a protective shield, wrapping his arms around me and I rest my head on his chest, focusing on the steady beat of his heart until I’m able to think straight enough to tell Alec what happened. 

“Simon kissed me.” I mumble, feeling Alec's eyebrows raise in surprise as he processes my confession. He knows all too well how much I've longed for Simon to look at me, not Clary, and the weight of that realisation hangs heavy in the air between us.

“Why don’t you sound happy about it?” Alec asks gently, his voice soft yet probing. He shifts slightly, turning to face me fully, his eyes searching mine for any hint of what’s troubling me about this all. 

I swallow hard, the guilt weighing heavily on my conscience as I struggle to find the right words. "It's complicated," I murmur, my voice barely above a whisper. "I mean, I wanted him to... but not like this.”

Alec’s brow furrows in confusion, his expression a mixture of concern and curiosity. "What do you mean?" he prompts, his voice gentle yet insistent.

I take a shaky breath, steeling myself for what comes next. "The Seelie Queen," I begin, the memories of our encounter at the court flooding back with painful clarity. "She made Simon choose... between Clary and me.” 

Alec’s eyes widen in understanding, the pieces of the puzzle falling into place as he realises the gravity of what I'm saying. "And he chose you," he says softly, a note of awe in his voice. 

I nod, unable to meet his gaze as the guilt gnaws at me like a relentless beast. "But at what cost?" I whisper, the words barely audible in the quiet of the room. "Clary... she might not be my friend but I never wanted to hurt her.” 

Alec reaches out, his hand finding mine in a gesture of comfort and solidarity. "You didn't do anything wrong," he says firmly, his voice filled with conviction. "The Seelie Queen's games are twisted and cruel. You can't blame yourself for her machinations.”Alec's words of reassurance wash over me like a soothing balm, offering a glimmer of comfort in the midst of my turmoil. His hand in mine is a grounding force, anchoring me to the present moment as I struggle to make sense of the tangled web of emotions that threaten to overwhelm me.

“You’re right,” I murmur, my voice barely above a whisper. "I can't let the Seelie Queen's games dictate my happiness." With a determined nod, I steel myself for what comes next, resolving to take control of my own destiny.

Alec squeezes my hand gently, a silent show of support and encouragement. "Go find Simon," he says firmly, his voice filled with conviction. "Tell him how you feel. Don't let fear or guilt hold you back.”

I nod, a sense of purpose settling over me like a mantle as I rise to my feet, determination burning bright in my heart. "Thank you, Alec," I say gratefully, a small smile tugging at the corners of my lips. "I don't know what I'd do without you.” 

As I make my way towards the door, Alec's voice follows me, a beacon of strength and reassurance in the darkness. "And remember," he calls out, his words a silent vow of solidarity. "You deserve to be happy."

With Alec's words echoing in my mind, I step into the hallway, my resolve firm and unwavering. It's time to face my fears, to confront the feelings that have long simmered beneath the surface. And as I set off in search of Simon, I know that no matter what challenges lie ahead, I'll always have my friends by my side to help me navigate the stormy waters of love and loyalty. 

As I turn the corner, the hallway seems to narrow, my heart pounding a frantic rhythm against my chest. And there, right in front of me, stands Simon, his presence both comforting and unnerving in equal measure. The air crackles with awkward tension, thick with the weight of unspoken words and unresolved emotions. It feels as though time has slowed, stretching the moment into an eternity as we stand there, locked in a silent dance of uncertainty.

Summoning every ounce of courage I possess, I take a shaky breath and blurt out the words that have been weighing on my heart for far too long, my voice a jumbled mess as nerves threaten to consume me. "Iwantyoutowantmeto." I falter, needing to gather myself before I continue, taking a deep breath and gripping Simon's hands firmly in mine. "I want you to want me too," I repeat, the words clearer this time, though my voice still trembles with a mixture of anxiety and longing.

As the words hang in the air between us, I watch Simon's expression shift, a kaleidoscope of emotions dancing across his features—surprise, disbelief, and something else, something that sets my heart racing with anticipation. And then, like the sun breaking through the clouds, his face lights up with a radiant smile, his eyes alight with a warmth that sends a rush of euphoria coursing through me like a tidal wave.

“You  have no idea how long I've waited to hear you say that," Simon says, his voice filled with a mixture of joy and relief. His words wash over me like a soothing balm, banishing the doubts and fears that have plagued me for so long.

Before I can fully process his response, Simon tugs me towards him, surprising me with the strength of his embrace. His arms wrap tightly around me, pulling me close as if he never wants to let me go. In that moment, I feel safe, cherished, and loved—a sensation unlike any other. 

As Simon pulls back slightly, his gaze holds mine with a captivating intensity, sending shivers of anticipation racing down my spine. And then, with a tenderness that leaves me reeling, he leans in once more, his lips capturing mine in a kiss that ignites a firestorm of emotions within me. 

His lips are soft yet urgent against mine, a silent plea for reassurance and confirmation of the feelings we've both harboured for so long. The kiss is a symphony of longing and desire, each brush of his lips against mine sending sparks flying through every fibre of my being.

As the kiss deepens, Simon's hands find their way to my waist, pulling me closer until there's no space left between us. The corridor fades away, forgotten in the heat of the moment, as Simon presses me against the wall with a passion that steals my breath away. 

His touch is electric, setting my skin ablaze with longing as he explores every contour of my lips with a hunger that leaves me dizzy with desire. It's as if we're two stars colliding in the vast expanse of the universe, merging together in a blaze of passion and intensity.

“I told you to find Simon not make out with him in the hallways!” Alec’s voice comes from down the corridor as he leaves his room, breaking me and Simon apart, both of us blushing like teenagers, “I’m happy for you but no making out in the corridors.” 

“Yes sir.” Simon mumbles out, face going even redder after calling Alec ‘sir’.

“Alright Ali” I laugh.

The Shadowhunters Masterlist TAG LIST - updated 21st Dec 2023