#i have A Lot Of Problems with the way wips are treated

[ressjeon]

desperate | pjm (m.)

pairing: model!jimin x pa!reader

summary: being Jimin's assistant made you immune from his flirty tactics, but somehow you find it hard to resist him when he unusually becomes desperate.

rating: 18+ | word count: 3.8k

genre/au: smut (a bit of plot if you squint)

warnings/content: crude language, masturbation, fellatio, handjob, deepthroating, face fucking?, switch dynamics, a lot of pining ig, cheeky jimin that has many lustful thoughts and he's a brat too oml

a/n: been a long while and this is unplanned as always lmao. was supposed to be posted on the 14th but the universe said no so i couldn’t post it. anyways, this is for the 2nd anniversary of this blog’s official debut in this community so why not post a fic of the person who made me start writing in the first place, as the first fic of 2023 just like he was my first fic in this blog (just in time with vibe’s release, his solo album announcement and his official partnership with Dior too! 0.0). thank you Jimin for being my light, i love you 🥰

― masterlist — navigation — wips

You’re currently on your knees, helping Jimin out with his problem.

Not that kind, goodness no. He’s been doing practice poses for his shoot as soon as he arrived like he always does in each photoshoot. You ignored his flushed look when he entered the studio, already knowing his morning routine and went straight for the pre-shoot meeting. Everything was smooth until you noticed some stain on his black pants when you were checking him for any final touches.

So here you are now, dabbing the wet wipes around the spot on his thigh while he’s leaning against the frame of the glass partition behind him. 

He’s lucky that most of the staff are not here yet so you have time to remove the stain from his pants, a cum stain that almost made you scream when he told you sheepishly that it was from some girl he fucked this morning before coming to the studio.

“are you still mad? i told you i didn't realize she’d be a creamer”

In any other situation, this would've been a strange exchange with someone you essentially work for. Jimin has no filter in the way he talks to you but you don’t really mind it as you do the same. You and he have grown closer to one another each day since you started working for him so these types of conversations became normal between you both.

It's one of the perks of Jimin hiring someone around his age for a personal assistant. You've been with him from the very start of his career, barely scraping anything during that time with the both of you fresh from graduation. When he initially asked you, you looked at him incredulously because his plan was quite risky. Jimin understood your hesitance but he was surprised when you finally agreed after a bit of consideration.

Your friends said that it must be the puppy eyes that he constantly gives you but no, you knew of Jimin during college. It’s common knowledge from your mutual acquaintances of how hardworking he is and you’ve witnessed it a few times before so you said yes because why not. You're both in the same boat anyways, still looking for other jobs and who knows, if this works then it will be great for your future careers. 

You remember when Jimin got his very first paycheck, running up to you with a tight hug and asking you something that you’ve been wanting for a while. You were confused but then he cracked a smile and revealed that he wanted to treat you as a gratitude for doing your best to find casting calls and gigs for him. You were happy of course, with both of your hard work finally coming to fruition.

This dynamic you have with Jimin as a very close friend and colleague has been pretty balanced as the years go by. There are times when you fought, unavoidable with your contrasting personalities but you both became comfortable with one another regardless. This makes your teamwork efficient with more understanding from both sides as your relationship gets closer.

“believe me, it’s hers, not mine i swear” he adds, repeating what he explained earlier when you don’t answer him.

Thoughts aside, you do, of course, believe him because Jimin’s one of the most responsible guys you’ve ever known. He always comes prepared for photoshoots and arrives early to do last-minute check-ups despite what his shenanigans are the night before like earlier today. He’ll never go bare with anyone to avoid risks because he already experienced some scares before from past hookups.

No answer from you still but it’s partly because you've been in shambles on the inside with what you feel for him these days. You’re not only annoyed by this whole thing but you also felt uneasy at what he said. You’ve been used to it but you somehow felt the sting when he explicitly laid out his latest hookup. 

You’ll never admit to yourself or him why because it would be unprofessional.

At the same time, you’ve also been fighting to focus only on finishing up what you’re doing, occasionally straying your eyes toward the glass windows to calm yourself down. He was practically naked in front of you, with his damn gold necklace where its round pendant dances around his belly button and pointing down to the huge bulge he was sporting. And it would’ve helped if he’s covered, at least while you’re still on the floor. But apparently, he felt the need to not zip it up and just wear it as it is, torturing you with his sculpted body. 

You shouldn’t mind it but you’re a bit suspicious because Jimin’s always been involved in his photoshoots. He always consults with you regarding his outfits even if it’s not part of your job. He often asks for your input as well, discussing his ideas with you before he gives them a go. For this shoot, he picked this specific hooded jacket among all the ones that you’ve shown him, insisting on wearing it without anything under it because this one is apparently very loose. 

Which became an immense distraction to you. 

You remember zoning out earlier in the meeting room when Jimin was picking the final photos from his pre-shoot, trying all the concepts that he’s been wanting to do. You were already a mess with his slicked-back hair and exposed body along with his tight pants. And now you couldn't stop staring at his veiny hands as they hovered around the pictures. The gold rings on both of his index fingers didn’t help either, turning your focus on them instead of listening to him explaining to you and his stylist. 

Jimin of course notices and teases you like always. Though he’s been doing it more frequently these days, adding more to the brewing tension between you. 

He ran his fingers through the pinned pictures on the pegboard and casually picked up the pictures near where you were standing by the edge of the table. He leans closer and closer so you have to fight the urge to look at him, instead focusing your attention on talking with this stylist.

“you alright, __?”

You just scoff and roll your eyes at him, brushing him off with an excuse of being sleep deprived. He’s doing this on purpose, he could’ve lied to you earlier about fucking someone because how is he still hard? Thankfully he zipped up for now so his oversized jacket covers it but you knew he had a hunch about why you’d been acting weird around him right now.

Jimin's been smiling, knowing that his current hairstyle has been your favourite. He noticed it when he had his rainbow blond one last time where you couldn't stop touching his hair, hands constantly on it whether hair spraying it or simply tugging its strands whenever you can, reasoning that it's looking messy though it's not.

You couldn't stop looking at him too, eyes staying on him more than you ever did since working for him. That's why he specifically talked to the stylist and the photographer about bringing this hairstyle back for this photoshoot since it’ll also fit with his whole look. Also, you’ve been sneaking glances at him today which has been lifting up his mood. It just adds to how hard his dick is already, affecting you this much makes him very excited for today.

“Jimin, you can't do the shoot with this” you will yourself to ask, relieved that your voice came out sterned. When you look up at him, Jimin swears that his cock just twitched at the view of you in this position, his thoughts playing a different scenario where you’re giving him the suck of his life.

“then help me..” he mindlessly responded, totally not paying attention to what you’re referring to. He's not sure really, his mind’s still hazy and all he can think of is the ache of his balls from not being able to cum earlier.

“i’m trying” you grumble, ignoring his pouting. He’s adorable when he’s like this, and he uses that on you when he wants something. Sometimes it works when he combines it with his affectionate touches but you have to be strong this time. You’re not even sure what he’s specifically talking about but then you’ve also been occupied in trying to fight off your growing lust for him. 

Jimin’s pout turns into a grin after catching your eyes flickering from looking anywhere and on his bulge again, he can sense how your hand’s so tempted to touch it with how much you’re gripping his pants. Your hand continues to fidget, eyes unfocused as you continue to wipe off that stain as hard as you can just in case. You don’t look annoyed now either, but you’re wearing a struggling expression that tells him just how conflicted you are at this moment.

You’re beyond torn because that fucking tent of his pants is dissolving your annoyance little by little with sinful thoughts already creeping up your mind the longer you stay down the floor. 

“where are you looking at?”

“the city view looks good from here”

You automatically answer, clearing your throat in the process before gathering up the pack of wet wipes and the damp cloth along with a bowl of cold water from the ground. You avoid looking at Jimin’s face because you knew he was going to try something now that he noticed your slight slip of judgment.

“yeah, the view is amazing but my view from here is better”

“up or down?” 

“both, but i’d say down. you’d say the opposite, right __?”

You almost dropped what you're holding at his remark but this is nothing new to you: Jimin shamelessly throwing his lewd innuendos at you at any chance he got. You indulge him in it, after all, it’s just harmless flirting between friends, something that you never expected when you took this job. Sometimes it's part of your banter, you doing the same thing to him which catches him off guard sometimes when he's focusing on something while working. You especially do it when discussions of his escapades come to light, which you helped in arranging because of his demanding schedules.

Yes, you’re this dedicated to your job even if it sometimes causes an ache in your heart. 

“why? didn’t you fuck someone?” you deflect, not giving him the satisfaction of knowing how much he’s affecting you.

“yeah but i didn’t get to cum, couldn’t…” he trails off as he closes his eyes and grabs his crotch to hopefully feel a little bit of comfort but it's no use. He wants to tell you why he couldn't, wants to let you know who has been stopping him from getting off with other people but you don't care anyways.

“then get rid of it, you still have time”

You state with urgency, nervously looking around if anyone saw but everyone’s been doing their own thing. Patting his thigh, you stand up from your kneeling position and push aside your want to help him in getting rid of it. He might be good at hiding his expressions but he does look like he’s been struggling for hours since he arrived on set. Jimin didn’t do anything but huff before retreating to the dressing room to take care of his problem.

Now that most of the staff are here, you check in with them for any possible last-minute changes. It took your mind off Jimin a bit but your eyes couldn’t stop glancing at the door of his dressing room. You shake your head, pushing yourself to focus on your current task. It’s still early but you want to make sure Jimin’s ready when the scheduled time for his photoshoot is on. This is an important shoot for him so you just hope that he finishes as soon as possible to not keep everyone waiting. 

After you’ve double-checked everything, you decide to fetch Jimin. Nearing his door though is making you more agitated than you already are. You’re about to knock when you hear his loud, sexy groan. fuck. 

You haven't really heard how Jimin sounds properly because each time you catch him fucking someone, either during his breaks or random times when you need something for him to confirm, his partners’ moans usually overpower his so this is quite new, and you won’t deny that you'd love to hear more of it.

“oh fuck..fuck”

Jimin being this loud causes you to panic at the possibility of anyone in the studio hearing him like this. This might not be new for some of the staff but still, you just don’t want everyone to hear how he sounds like. 

You took a deep breath before wandering your eyes around if anyone was watching but thankfully, everyone was busy.

.

He wonders if you’re listening, purposely moaning louder than he intends to as he fists his cock. You probably don’t care and if you ever catch him, you’ll just ignore his attempts and scold him for taking too long at this. It’s always been the case with you but he does find it amusing to piss you off more.

So when he hears the door opening, a smirk creeps up on his face before opening his half-lidded eyes.

“y–”

“shut up” you seethe as you approach his propping form on his vanity. He thinks it's just one of his imaginations again, indulging him with his fantasies. But when he feels you grab the chain of his wrap necklace towards you, his eyes open fully before releasing a small gasp. The smaller chain loop fastens gradually around his neck when you begin pulling its long chain gently while looking into his eyes. He maintains eye contact and you notice the hunger and mischief in them as you continue to pull his necklace.

“s-shit” he whines quietly, though the smirk still remains on his gorgeous face as his hand continues to stroke his cock even faster. His other hand reaches for the dark bottle of lube, bringing it in front of you before pumping its nozzle on his very angry tip.

He closes his eyes again, placing the bottle back on the table while his other hand spreads the lube around his dick. You’re speechless for a second with this whole show he’s putting on, pausing to watch him. It’s when his other hand comes up in an attempt to touch you to come closer that breaks your reverie, swatting his hand away.

You stare him down, brows scrunching while contemplating what to do next. This would be crossing whatever boundaries you have with Jimin both in your personal and professional relationship. You had to look away from him to think this through. You’re used to seeing him semi-naked with other people before but not like this. Him now naked from the waist down in front of you, his tight black pants pooling around his ankles.

It’s Jimin’s desperate whimpers that made your mind up. There’s no point in denying wanting the same thing he desires from you.

“i’ll help you but don't make a sound” you command and he nods, too fucked out to respond because all he wants is his release.

Your hand replaces his before you kneel on the hard floor, immediately swallowing his cock to not waste more time. One of Jimin’s hands is on your head at once, not gripping your hair but just holding onto you for support because fuck, your mouth feels so much better than his hands, hell it's even better than pussies he’s had before.

It’s you, of course, Jimin has always thought about how much better you’ll be at pleasuring him than others. He smiles after noticing your demeanour change as soon as your mouth envelops him. It must be the lube flavour that he specifically picked knowing apple’s one of your favourites. Your mouth is greedily sucking him in now, warm tongue lapping up the entirety of his cock.

"you were drooling for my cock earlier, hmm? bet you wouldn't mind sucking me off in front of everyone outside" his mocking tone shudders, his attempt of gaining control wavering with you being encouraged by what he said. You bob your head faster, opening your mouth more to take him deeper cause the view from where you are is spurring you to do more. Jimin in his fucked out glory is a sight to watch, his gold link earrings swaying as he tosses his head back, his plump lips getting swollen from him biting them to hold his moans in.

You want to see more of it. 

When Jimin’s not closing his eyes from the pleasure, they never leave yours as he stares right into them. He surprises you when he gets up from leaning on the vanity, his hand moving from the top of your head down to the back of your neck to pull you closer to him. This made him push deeper into your mouth so you loosen your jaw, the new angle allowing more of his length in your mouth. As soon as his tip reaches the back of your throat, you’re unable to stop releasing gurgling moans when it nudges further.

“can’t..believe..you’re.. choking on my cock right now..”

Jimin rasps needily as he rolls his hips slowly, deeper with each thrust. The vibrations from your moans are not helping him in holding his orgasm longer. He’s been trying hard because he wants to prolong this, relish this view of you on your knees and your mouth on him because who knows if this will ever happen again. He’s losing himself, grinding on your face while his hand starts massaging your nape in time with his thrusts.

Now you’re confused because you for sure thought that he’ll start fucking your throat roughly the moment you allowed him but he’s not. You take a deep breath through your nose as you come up, readying your throat in case he’ll change his mind later when he’s close to cumming. But the way he’s touching your nape is making you relax, distracting you from your main reason for helping him in the first place.

He’s close already, his cock's been throbbing before you started bobbing your head earlier. His pace also changes a bit faster but is still slow and you’re confused as to why he’s been holding back. His breathing turns erratic and his lower abs are flexing. You know it so before he does so dig your nails into both of his meaty thighs before one of your hands leaves and pushes away his hold on your head. 

You take him deeper until your lips reach the skin of his crotch, immediately pushing back when he grabs your head again, releasing his cock from your mouth which causes Jimin to whimper in frustration.

“that's for making me wipe other girl's cum on your pants” you glare at him, voice hoarse from taking him that deep in your throat. Standing up from kneeling was making your legs wonky, feeling numb from your previous position but your mind’s not on it with your prior annoyance resurfacing because of his attempt to pacify you.

Jimin, however, begins laughing.

Your brows rise from his reaction, totally not expecting this because you were really sure that you already got him under you.

“so you’re jealous after all,”

“i’m not, i wouldn’t help you if i were” you counter, avoiding his eyes as you pull his jacket back on him, it was slipping on one side already, showing his muscular arms and the tattoo on his ribs. Your fingers have minds of their own when you start tracing each of the letters, causing Jimin to shiver at your touches but the devilish smile remains on his handsome face.

“but you’re doing it to prove something, right?”

You don’t know how to answer him and you don’t want to tell him the truth because it’ll just feed his already massive ego. Instead, you grab his swollen dick, hot and heavy in your hands and begin stroking him roughly. The slick from the lube, his precum and your saliva made it easier for your plan. There’s no way you’ll let him, he’ll never be able to make you admit it.

The smile disappears from his lips as his whole body shakes with a cry, not expecting your punishing pace on him. You want to look at him, to watch his smug face morph back into a pliant one.

But you can’t.

Jimin couldn't cum earlier while fucking another girl because all he can think about is you and now you’re doing what exactly he’s been imagining for months, years. You’re still not looking at him, your brows scrunching in focus on jerking him off. He can’t stop himself from bucking into your hands when your thumb starts flicking his mushroom tip, nudging his frenulum with your index finger before squeezing his shaft each time you do it.

You’re honestly amazed at how Jimin manages to hold off his climax this long but it shouldn’t surprise you when he has such incredible control of his body. It’s when your other hand reaches out to pull his necklace again to pull him towards you, that he finally gives in. It never crossed your mind that modifying this necklace by combining it with his gold link could serve as an advantage for you when playing with him.

Jimin’s hand leaves the table to muffle his mouth, eyes somewhat begging you to let him cum. You smile and he lets himself go through a series of incoherent cries, still covering his mouth like you ordered him to. And despite knowing how loud he can be, you quickly move to remove his hands to finally hear the delicious moans that he’s been obediently keeping. 

He continues to rock his hips despite the overstimulation, trying to catch your eyes and when you do look up, he’s back to purposely biting his lips as he gapes at you with his dark brown eyes.

He’s grinning while still biting his lips as he shoots more of his cum into your hands, it’s spilling all over but most of it landed on your black sheer top, especially on the sleeves.

“Jimin what the fuck! you came so much..” your enamoured eyes are focusing on his slit that’s still releasing loads of his sticky cum around your fingers.

“yeah, been holding them back” for you, he wants to add but he just chuckles, breathlessly and all giddy while eyeing you. It could be high from his mind-blowing orgasm but it’s more with how he basically just covered you with his cum.

You look cute when you’re annoyed, grumbling because of the stains on your sheer puffy top. Some of them are on your black leather pants too, and this just adds to his amusement as he watches you walking around frantically, looking for something to clean you both up with before his photoshoot finally commences in about a minute or so.

Jimin’s not sorry of course, seeing his cum stains on you is stirring something carnal in him. It's his way of marking you because you're his now, well, kind of. He'll just make sure to properly mark you next time.

e/n: i initially wrote this around the time it came out and during his birthday but wasn’t planning on posting it until later cuz i do have other priority fics but i just have to since i wasn’t able to post him last year 😭

[batri-jopa]

"Currently"

Since I've already been tagged by both @figuringthengsout and @notasapleasure I should finally do something about it🫡

favorite color: recently it's yellow💛💛💛 Juicy mango type of yellow the most. Often combined with black and white because I enjoy looking like an oriole:

last song: Tina Turner - GoldenEye

last movie: Mask (1994) (and maaan how I never suspected I would look at Stanley Ipkiss as a relateable character when I grow older...😅)

currently reading: Romans na receptę - another one of few books by Monika Szwaja that my mum borrowed in our local library. I like her style and it breaks my heart that she died being only 65🥺 There's always so much hope and friendliness and support in the world that she's depicting. And, fascinating enough, there's usually AroAllo woman representation somewhere and depicted in the positive way! Of course it is not called "aromantic" by a polish writer born in 1949, more likely for the main male character to call that "AroAllo" woman character a "robot" who "uses him as as a sex toy"🤭 - BUT nevertheless even the male protagonist really likes her, appreciates her skills as loyal assistant, treats her as good friend to confess his problems to and genuinely wishes her all the luck!👍 In other books you can expect other queers occasionally too (like a teenage son who turns out to have a boyfriend), but it's always in sympathetic and realistic yet bringing-back-faith-in-humanity kind of way🫠

currently watching: umm... nothing actually (I feel like a weirdo😑 Like maybe I should start watching sth finally just so I could fill in the meme next time around? I do have a lot of series on my "to watch list")

currently craving: MANAGE TO GET SHIT DONE!💪 seriously I need either only 2 working days a week instead of 3 or... better time organisation😩 (so what that I have 4 "free" days a week now when there are emails to answer and books to read, and my pictures to make into album, and family members to visit, and all the new pictures' ideas to draw, and new tumblr posts to create, and those fic-WIPs waiting for so long already, and... I wonder if scheduling everything in precize days and hours would help me to feel more organised somehow?🤔 or only feel more remourse for not being able to follow the schedule?😑)

tea or coffee: Oh, so glad you asked! Tea please, black, strong, no sugar, no milk. Lemon appreciated but not necessarily. Thank you!🫖☕️

Tagging: @zorilleerrant , @chrisoels , @swordoftheseeker , @kaiaprax , @imaginatorofthings , @parttimereptile , @corey-m13 - some of you won't play probably so I'm just saying a friendly "hi"👋

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

By popular demand (hi Nawy) I’m making a separate post for that bit on the latest Chuuya post that I cut out about Chuuya’s relation to emotional vulnerability, and how fics exploring this could be really nice. (For clarity, I cut it out because I didn’t think it flowed with the rest of the post, even if it is related to it.)

“There is a part of Chuuya that wants to be treated kindly without expectations - real friendship, an equal dynamic. It's notable in the particular moments that actually endear him to a person - the Flags going out of their way to give him information about his past simply because they're his friends, Adam trying to cheer him up by giving him hope about finding out his identity from N, whatever happened to result in his unshakeable trust in Dazai. You could even make an argument for the way he frantically and instinctively reached out to hold his own younger, weaker clone self in his arms as he died. I keep thinking about @originalaccountname’s desire to see more fics that focus on Chuuya receiving care and allowing himself to not have to always be the strong one. I'd like to see this too tbh, but not just because Chuuya deserves to feel comfortable enough to open up these vulnerabilities - but also because the entire notion of such a thing would be deeply conflicting to him, I believe, and that could make for some intriguing character study. 

See, that no-strings kindness runs completely counter to the self-concept he has and that image of himself he's built up as "the one who does the protecting". Favours are no problem, because those don't dig into his inner self and can be easily repaid.  But when it comes to more personally meaningful gestures, he's not great at accepting them, and tends to respond in one of two ways: getting defensive and looking for the "trap" or "catch", or briefly reacting with gaping surprise or muted happiness before immediately bottling that up with feigned irritation or indifference. I'm of the mind that it would take a long time to get him to the point where he could accept personally meaningful kind gestures and, god forbid, anything to do with emotional support, because in the end, it seems like he has a much easier time taking betrayal and pain in stride than acts of care. Chuuya expects danger. Kindness without expectation towards his person appears to be more shocking.”

A lot of the fics I’ve been working on involve tackling this particular contradictory aspect of Chuuya, but unfortunately they are all wips and for some reason do not write themselves. I highly encourage anyone who likes doing character study type pieces or just likes to see their favourite characters get some affection to play with this concept a bit. There’s a lot there to work and play with!

[totallyjustabunchofhocuspocus]

Fic: One Foot Out the Door (Won't You Come Back Inside?) 3/3

Hey, lookit! I finished a one-shot! Yes, I know three chapters is not a one-shot, but compared to my current WIP folder, this is positively a drabble.

Pairing: Buck/Tommy (Buddie is mentioned, but one-sided in this)

Part One

Part Two

“Yeah. Yeah, I know,” Evan said tiredly. “Is that where the writing on the wall came from?” he asked, looking into Tommy’s eyes with that same touch of fear that was making Tommy's heart hurt. Not trusting his voice, Tommy just nodded. Evan grimaced, squeezing his hands. “I was kind of hoping you hadn't noticed.”

Tommy froze, his first instinct to pull away, to curl in on himself–protect his vulnerable points–because what the hell? Evan knew? Evan already knew Eddie loved him, had already realized? When? How? How long?!

But Evan was still standing as close as he usually did, swaying into Tommy's personal space. He was still holding Tommy's hands in his strong, steady grip, still rubbing his thumb back and forth over the rough, scarred skin of Tommy's knuckles with the same soft, feather-light touch as he always did. As though Tommy was something worth treating gently, as though he was something to be held gently and treasured.

Why wasn't Evan pulling back, babbling apologies, and promising that he hadn't meant to hurt him. Why wasn't he tripping over himself saying that he loved Tommy, sure, but it was Eddie, didn't Tommy understand? He stared at Tommy's hands with an air of exhausted, saddened resignation…but it didn't feel like Tommy had been expecting it to. Evan's sadness didn't feel directed at him. What was going on?

“I'm…I'm gonna need you to run that by me again,” he said carefully.

Evan sighed, bringing Tommy's hands up to kiss his fingers before letting go. “I know I don't always have the best, uh, situational awareness outside of burning buildings, but I'm not an idiot. I can tell when people are interested.” He lowered his voice, crossing his arms over his chest in a gesture that Tommy could tell was more self-soothing than defensive. “And I know Eddie better than anyone. We're…we're working on it.”

Ah. There it was. His stomach dropped sickeningly, and he swallowed hard, reaching down deep for the focus he called on when making a particularly tricky landing or charging into a fire that was escaping control. The focus that let him concentrate only on his next move, let him take things step by step and not look at the big picture of how much danger he was in. He needed that to get through this.

He'd come here intending to fight…but he wasn't an idiot either. If Evan and Eddie were already “working on” something, then the fight was already lost.

God, losing Evan was going to hurt so damn much.

But he loved Evan. He loved Evan enough to want him to be happy. So he could do this. He could withdraw gracefully, make it as clean a break as possible for both of them. The last thing he could do for his boyfriend, before he lost the right to call Evan his anything. Maybe if he did this right, losing Evan wouldn't blow the life he'd been building around this, around them, to smithereens.

“--and Dr. Copeland's really been helping us talk through things. I'm really sorry I didn't tell you, but Eddie's…Eddie's not ready to come out yet and I promised him I wouldn't say anything unless it started causing problems for us.”

Evan was talking. Evan was talking quite a lot actually, his words coming faster and faster in a rapidly increasing stream that always signaled he was nervous, worried about not being understood. It was different from the way he picked up steam when he was excited about something, though Tommy couldn’t have told you how.

Abruptly, Evan broke off, reaching up to lay his hand against Tommy’s cheek. Tommy had to hold himself back from leaning into the touch, the calloused fingertips that were as familiar as his own by now. “I should’ve noticed this was upsetting you,” he said seriously. “That’s on me. I should’ve asked Eddie if I could talk to you sooner…he would’ve let me, I know he would. I guess—I don’t know, I guess I was just hoping we could smooth everything over before anyone figured anything out.” He shook his head, stroking Tommy’s cheekbone with his thumb like he wasn’t about to break Tommy’s fucking heart.

Gently as possible, of course. Evan was too kind to be anything but gentle. But it didn’t matter how gently you were lowered if the drop was a thousand-foot cliff.

“Babe, I promise, we already talked about it. I already told Eddie I wasn’t—well. We’ve talked about it. I’ll go on a different shift if it bothers you. I don’t…I don’t really want to move houses, but there’s plenty of places that’ll take me, so that’s an option too. Whatever you’re comfortable with. Just say the word.” Evan’s brow furrowed, his face settling into the determined cast that meant he was committed to whatever course he was laying down, be it for good or ill.

And…Tommy didn’t quite hear a record scratch in his head.

But that wasn’t far off as a description.

“What?”

Evan tilted his head slightly. “I mean. Ideally nothing changes. Eddie’s…Eddie’s my partner. I can’t really imagine working with someone else. But I, I, I get it. That’s a huge ask, even if Eddie’s your friend, too.”

“No, I—what?” Tommy was suddenly struck with the feeling that they were having two entirely different conversations.

“I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you about this. I—you have every right to be angry about it. I just…I know how you feel about outing people. And I mean, me too! I’d never, I’d never do that to someone, and like I said, I was really hoping it wouldn’t be a problem.” His voice changed again, crossing the threshold into desperation, a slight quaver on the end of each word that told Tommy his boyfriend’s anxiety was ratcheting up with every passing second. “I just didn’t want you to get hurt. Or Eddie.”

This wasn’t the way this conversation was supposed to go. This sounded like…didn’t Evan understand? “Evan,” Tommy said, feeling the words scrape over his throat like broken glass. “Evan, he’s in love with you.”

He could not let himself hope he was hearing his boyfriend correctly until he was sure Evan understood exactly what was on the table here. What he’d been seeing practically from the moment he and Evan first started dating.

Evan reeled back a little, his frown deepening. And then…and then he watched all of the puzzle pieces slot into place in his boyfriend’s brain. Those pretty, pretty eyes that Tommy loved getting lost in went wide, and he sucked in a sharp breath.

“Oh…oh, no. No. Tommy. Tommy, I know that,” he said softly. “But I’m in love with you.”

*

“I…I look, I’m not going to insult you, here,” Evan sighed, burrowing deeper into Tommy’s side and throwing an arm over his stomach. The two of them were sprawled on Evan’s couch, Evan tucked as close to Tommy’s body as he could manage. Given that he was over six feet tall and pretty much solid muscle, it was pretty impressively close. “If Eddie and I had figured ourselves out sooner…or if Eddie had said something back when we were first dating, well. It would have been a different story.”

Tommy could not help tightening his arm around Evan’s shoulders. “Right person, wrong time,” he said, the words barely carrying even the short distance between them. He felt Evan give a small nod, and could not bring himself to look down at his boyfriend. The man he loved. His, still, because Evan wasn’t trying to let him down gently. Wasn’t trying to leave. He couldn’t believe it.

He…he couldn’t believe it.

“Then why isn’t it right person, right time now?” he forced himself to ask. It felt stupid. Evan said he didn’t want to leave him, why was he looking a gift horse in the mouth? He had to know, though. He had to dig down to the very root of this whole mess, this single, unignorable thing that had been haunting his relationship with Evan all this time, standing in the way of the future he so desperately wanted with this man. He had to dig it out, once and for all.

Evan was silent for long enough that it started to make him nervous. Then his arm tightened across Tommy’s stomach. “Because we’re not,” he said finally. “I’m not the right person for him anymore…and he’s not the right person for me. Me and Eddie—whatever chance we had, it’s gone.” He shifted suddenly, sitting up slightly so he could look Tommy in the eye. “And I’m okay with that, Tommy. I don’t…I don’t regret that. I love you, okay? I love you. Full stop. No qualifiers.”

Evan could be insecure, sometimes. Unsure of himself. But he had never shied away from being honest with Tommy. Even when honesty was difficult, or painful. He couldn’t even find it in himself to be angry that Evan had hidden the fact that Eddie had told him he was in love with him…Eddie was Evan’s best friend above all else, and he’d been trying to stay loyal to both of them. It had been an impossible position. And…he hadn’t exactly been honest with Evan, either, had he? He should have talked to him about his doubts a long time ago. Especially when they became an obstacle to talking about the future.

“So Eddie’s been seeing Dr. Copeland with you?” he asked when Evan settled his head back on his shoulder. He carded his fingers through Evan’s hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. Evan made a soft, contented sound.

“I mean, not as a patient or anything. More like…he comes and sits in on some of my regular sessions and she helps facilitate conversations. We—the most important thing is Chris doesn’t get hurt, you know? We needed to make sure any issues between us don’t affect him. But she’s also helping me set new boundaries, and just be mindful of not giving him false hope. Helping us keep communicating and figure out if we need some distance, and how that would work.”

Tommy hummed to himself, and then pressed a kiss to Evan’s forehead. “That must be hard for him,” he mused out loud.

Loving Evan and not being able to have him? Tommy was probably the only person in the world who could understand exactly how hard that would be. He’d been so sure it was going to be him on that end of this equation…and Eddie was his friend, too. One of his best friends. He couldn’t find it in himself to feel anything but compassion.

“We’ve made it through hard things before,” Evan murmured. “Eddie…Eddie’s my best friend. He’s family. We’re not letting this ruin that.” He turned in Tommy’s arms, bringing himself impossibly closer. “But I meant what I said. I’m not letting this ruin us, either. If you need me to take a step back, I will. I mean—Eddie’s willing, too, but I just finished that HazMat certification, and my heavy rescue certs are more recent than his. Right now, it’d be easier for me to transfer somewhere.”

At that, Tommy wrapped his other arm around Evan’s waist and heaved, rolling him so that he was sitting on Tommy’s lap, facing him. “You’d really leave the 118 for me?” he asked in stunned disbelief.

Evan framed his face with his hands, leaning down to kiss him. Just a brief press of their lips together, but it was full of promise. “I’m never gonna lose the 118,” he said. “I know that…better than I ever have. But yeah, I don’t…I don’t need to work there, anymore. Not the way I did when I first started. You have no idea how much you helped get me there.”

“Baby…” he whispered, everything else he wanted to say getting lodged in his throat. Evan grinned at him crookedly, not a trace of doubt in his blue, blue eyes, and kissed him again. Deeper. Firmer.

Kissing Evan was always a delight, but this felt different. This felt like forever.

And in the face of forever, Tommy found he could finally chase away the shadow that had been haunting them.

“I’d never ask you to do that,” he said when they finally broke apart. He ran his hands up and down his boyfriend’s sides, loving the way he arched like a cat into the touch. “I trust you. I trust Eddie. If you say we can get through this, then that’s what we’re going to do.” He knew Evan hadn’t just been placating him, but the brilliant grin that broke out across his face told Tommy he’d said exactly the right thing. He answered it with his own, sliding his hands further down to rest on his boyfriend’s hips. “One condition, though.”

“Name it,” Evan said instantly, tilting his head curiously.

They weren’t on a romantic trip, or at a fancy dinner. There weren’t flowers or candlelight or any of the other trappings he’d imagined whenever he let himself indulge in thinking about how he might take the next steps with Evan. Curled together on his couch, basking in the knowledge that they were going to be okay…that they’d come face to face with a challenge that would have ended most other couples and were going to come out stronger for it…he found the setting didn’t matter.

“Come live with me when your lease is up. Hell, come now. Come home,” he said.

If he’d thought Evan’s smile had been bright before, this one was blinding. “Thought you’d never ask.”

[butcherlarry]

Superbat Week 2024 Fic Recs

Day 7: Free Day!!! Superbat? | Superbat! | Superbat.

I kind of went a bit crazy for this fic rec list since today is a Free Day for the event. I just went through my bookmarks and picked out a lot of my favorites :) Enjoy!

we shall be free; we shall find peace by mediant @blorb-el - WIP. This fic makes me Unwell (in a good way!). Instead of being raised by the Kents, the worst case scenario happens and a young Clark is taken from them and raised to be a weapon by Luthor. Kon is created and Clark gets the chance to raise him as well. Mind the tags!

mission parameters by shipyrds @burins - Complete. For a diplomatic Justice League mission, Bruce and Clark have to pretend to be a married couple on an alien planet. Feelings are developed and shenanigans of the emotional kind ensue.

An Honest Conversation by frozenpotions @froizetta - Complete. Friends to lovers, but make them take the long way around. I really, really enjoyed the final two chapters. Read and find out why!

FairyTAILS and Magic by bellninja28 - Complete. This fic was recced to me in the Superbat Week 2024 discord server a few months ago, and I'm SO GLAD it was. The Justice League go to a planet to help out. The superpowered heroes get a bit depowered (like Clark!), while the lone human hero, Batman, gets turned into a sexy, sexy centaur. Shenanigans ensue.

slow dancing in the dark by scarletazure - Complete. This fic holds a specially place in my heart because one of the updates happened when I drove over 11 hours home for Christmas. It was a lovely little treat for being in a car that long. Anyway, Bruce and Clark get some temporary amnesia and hook up. And then they get there memories back. Shenanigans ensue.

Bells win ring, the sun will shine by psychomachia - Complete. Krypton doesn't survive, but there are more survivors than Kal-el that make it to Earth for refuge. Waller thinks they are up to something in Las Vagas and asks Bruce to check it out as Brucie. A drunken Vegas marriage ensues between Bruce and Kal-El, among other shenanigans.

Patroclus by widow_account - Complete. Don't get me wrong, I LOVE fics where Bruce is the damsel in distress. In this fic though, it's Clark who is the damsel in need of saving by Bruce. And he gets kidnapped to War World. So, so good and so many feels.

As We Grow by butterflyslinky - Complete. A cute Cinderella inspired story where Clark is a poor farmer in debt to Luthor and Bruce is the prince (with many children).

A kindred bond by Nyszu - WIP. Bruce is kidnapped by an evil Superman from another universe. The Justice League rescues him, but he (and Clark) have a lot of mental issues to deal with from the whole ordeal.

don't know the rules but i got to win by susiecarter @susiecarter - Complete. One of the craziest xenobio Clark fics I have read and I loved every word of it. Involves Bruce accidentally listening to Krytonian erotica and some sexy, sexy farming.

Just A Little Bit... by HaleHathNoFury (My_Trex_has_fleas) @halehathnofury - WIP. Do you like Clark being a weird alien? Do you like Bruce being a weird eldritch being? Do you like the robins being magic users? Do you also like clown and plant lesbians? If you do, oh boy is this the fic for you!!!!

Masking by BombusBombus @bombusbombus - Complete. This is another fic that makes me Unwell, and I rec it whenever I get the chance. It examines the masks that Bruce and Clark wear when being Batman and Superman, Brucie and Reporter Clark, and who they are when they find someone they feel comfortable around to take all of those masks off and be themselves.

The Problem With Clark Kent by vectacular @lenreli - Complete. Clark returns from War World, moves in with Bruce, and makes him experience all sorts of Thoughts and Feelings.

Talk Science To Me by profoundalpacakitten @profoundalpacakitten - Complete. Because of his indestructible nature, Clark has problems being intimate with others. Bruce wants to fix this using the power of science. Lots and Lots of science. Insert meme of Clark saying "I better not awaken anything in me" meme (it does).

pull out the pin by TheResurrectionist @frownyalfred - Complete. The Justice League get stranded on what looks like an empty planet. It is not and Bruce gets possessed by an alien life form. Clark defeats with the power of Love™.

The Valley of the Shadows by FabulaRasa - Complete. Bruce gets diagnosed with a terminal illness and goes through the rough treatment for it. Clark helps. It's still rough. Many emotions ensue.

over this threshold by orphean - Complete. Bruce and Clark get married for the best reason of all, tax benefits. And maybe along the way they fall in love.

My Own Desert Places by MemoryDragon @memorydragon - Complete. I love this fic with my whole heart. I remember reading it the first time and crying my eyes out at certain parts (you'll know when you get to them) because I identified with the what the characters were going through. Anyway, Batman is outed as ace and deals with media fall out. Clark is there to help.

Happy reading!

[ladykailitha]

Do You Know What Shovels Dig? Graves Part 6

And this is it. The last part of a short little idea that kept me up all night that turned into this beautiful story that is one of my favorite stories I’ve written.

WIP Wednesday allowed me to finish this up for you before I went to bed. I got a job that I will be starting on Monday which will slow my writing down some, but I will still try to keep up on the stories I have. I love writing these stories for you guys and wish I could make it my job. But alas, capitalism.

Also this is for all the people that wished to see what the Corroded Coffin boys would say and for all the people that wanted to have Erica actually apologize. I was like “if you guys can get her to apologize, great, because I couldn’t!” But then I realized that there was someone who could get her to apologize. Robin. So here you go.

Thanks to that anon for the barbecue idea. That’s here too.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

*

After Max, Lucas, and Erica had gone, Steve sat with Eddie, El, and the Byers boys.

“I think all in all,” Eddie began, “those were some pretty good apologies.”

The other three nodded.

Steve sighed. “It doesn’t change the fact that it took an actual honest to god intervention to get them realize they were wrong.”

“No it doesn’t,” El said. “Which is why I told them that they’ve been grounded from Steve for two weeks.”

“Uh...” Eddie said, “what now?”

“It means,” Will explained. “That if they want to hang out with him they have to do on his terms, not theirs. No begging for rides, no stopping by for food and then bailing, and just no taking advantage of Steve.”

Steve blushed. “Thanks, guys. I mean it. It was nice knowing that there were people that weren’t going to threaten me and took this whole seriously.” He gave Jonathan’s knee a squeeze. “I’m not sure what would have happened if you hadn’t stopped by. But I’m really glad you did.”

Jonathan squeezed his shoulder in response. “Me, too. I hope they learned their lesson.”

“That is the hope,” Will said.

Steve scratched his cheek. “Why don’t we have barbecue at your guys’s place after the two weeks and see how they fair?”

Will brightened. “I like that idea. That way if they are still having problems we can talk to them about it.”

“Do you think your mom will go for it?” Eddie asked.

Jonathan grinned. “Hell yeah, she would. She’s been wanting to show off her new house to everyone for awhile now.”

El grinned too. “We have a plan, then!”

*

Steve was pleased to see that the Party actually started to make actual changes in how they treated him.

Lucas invited him out to play basketball at the rec center and biked himself there. Steve offered him a ride home after, which he happily took as they were both sweating afterwards.

Dustin made sure that Steve knew he was joking when he was making comments. And Steve made sure to snark right back unless it really bothered him and then they would talk about it.

Robin and he had a longer talk about the gay vs bisexual thing. She admitted that she had been wrong to assume that because Steve was bisexual that it would be Eddie getting his heartbroken and not Steve. She had some ingrained biases that she had to get over and was really sorry she didn’t have his back when he needed her to.

There were a lot of little changes but the final major change came a couple days after the intervention when Jeff, Gareth, and Brian all walked into Family Video together to properly apologize to Steve.

“Hey, Buckley,” Jeff said, “can you give us some space?”

Robin straightened her spine and wiggled her shoulders. “Steve has had apology monitors to ensure that it’s an actual apology, and as Eddie or Will or Jonathan aren’t here, it’s going to have to be me.”

Steve laughed and shook his head. “Apparently there are certain people who think I’m too nice,” he explained to the other boys, “and let people get away things that I shouldn’t so they took it upon themselves to be my guard dogs to make sure it’s an actual apology.”

“Have they met you?” Gareth asked, incredulous. “You’re the original bitch.”

Steve laughed again. “Who let Tommy and Carol walk all over me. I tend to roll over for friends.”

They blinked and then nodded.

“Yeah, okay,” Brian said. “That tracks.”

Steve just smiled. “So how can I help you fine gentleman today? May I interest you our latest releases?”

That got a couple chuckles out of them.

“No, man,” Jeff said, “we’re here to talk about the whole shovel talk shit.”

Steve leaned against the counter and folded his arms. “You do know I don’t fault you guys for that, right? You guys are Eddie’s best friends. I didn’t really fault Wayne, either. But the execution of that one...” he winced when Robin gasped. “Poor choice of words, sorry.”

“What he do?” Jeff asked.

“Borrowed Chief Hopper’s shotgun and cleaned while we talked,” Steve said with a grimace.

“That ain’t right...” Brian said, shaking his head.

Gareth looked at Jeff and then back to Steve. “Yeah, but here’s the thing about our shovel talk...”

“It wasn’t necessary,” Jeff finished for him. “We’ve had time to get to know you before you and Eddie started dating. We knew that you two would do anything for each other even without being a couple.”

Brian nodded. “It’s just...something we thought best friends did. The whole ‘break his heart, we’ll break your knees’ kind of thing.”

Robin looked down at her feet and cleared her throat.

Jeff sighed dramatically. “Please tell me she wasn’t one of the ones that gave you the shovel talk. Because that’s messed up, man.”

Steve looked over at her and then back up to Jeff. “Yeah, she knows.”

“By the way,” Gareth said, waving his hands, “Eddie doesn’t know we’re here. So I don’t want thinking this is a forced apology or anything.”

Steve raised his eyebrows. “Really?”

Brian cleared his throat. “I mean he did threaten to kill off our characters if we were mean to you, but he didn’t tell us to apologize or anything.”

Steve laughed. “That sounds more like the Eddie we all know and love.”

“But we would have come anyway,” Jeff said. “Because our shovel talk added to a heaping pile of bullshit that you didn’t need. And definitely didn’t deserve.”

“So this is us saying we’re sorry that everyone you knew decided that you were going to break Eddie’s heart,” Gareth said. “And that we made you feel like you weren’t worthy of dating Eddie. Because you are, man. Like seriously the only guy Eddie’s brought around that we actually want to be friends with.”

“Hell yeah,” Brian said. “You’re so cool and you love to take care everyone. We’d want you to stick around because we like you, too.”

Steve’s eyes blurred and he cleared his throat. “Thanks, guys. It means a lot to hear you say that.”

They all came up and gave Steve a hug, blocking him from outside viewers so he could cry. Once they were sure he was going to be okay, they let him go.

They said their goodbyes and walked out, leaving behind a stunned Robin and grateful Steve.

*

Just before the barbecue started Robin brought over Erica to Steve by holding her ear.

“Ow! Ow! Ow!” Erica was yelling as she was half dragged over to him.

Robin sat her down and said, “I learned that this little hobgoblin didn’t properly apologize for her shovel talk. And Eddie let her get away with it.”

“God, what’s your problem?” Erica huffed up at Robin. “They understood. Why can’t you?”

Robin grinned. “Green ooze, little girl. Green ooze.”

Erica’s jaw snapped shut. If Sherlock Holmes had his phrase for humbling him when he got too proud, this was Erica’s. She was going to drink it before it turned out to be acid. Like literal acid.

She turned to Steve. “Shovel talks aren’t right and no one should be giving anyone shovel talks because it’s a pointless exercise in latent hostility. So I’m sorry I contributed to an archaic practice used by bullies and abusers. I won’t do it ever again.”

Erica looked up at Robin, who gave her the thumbs up. Erica hopped up and ran off to play.

Steve blinked up at Robin in shock. “Like how the hell did you manage that?”

Robin just batted her eyelashes and said nothing, walking away with a whistle on her lips and a swagger in her step.

Eddie came up to him in shock. “Did I just witness an actual apology from Lady Applejack?”

Steve nodded mutely.

“I think I’m more afraid of Robin, now,” Eddie muttered and Steve could only agree.

*

Eddie was starting to see a trend. One that made him laugh the third time it happened.

The first, though? Claudia Henderson.

“Eddie!” she greeted warmly. “I haven’t seen you around much. How have you been?”

Eddie smiled at her. Even before the Upside Down, Claudia was one Eddie’s favorite people. She was bright and happy and loved her wacky son with all her heart. Something that Eddie could absolutely get behind. “I’ve just been busy. But name the date, and I’ll be there.”

She smiled back. “That’s sweet, dear. You know you have an open invitation. But why don’t you and your uncle come over for Sunday dinner. Steve has already said yes for himself.”

“Sounds great, Mrs Henderson,” Eddie agreed.

“How are you and Steve?” she asked gently. “Dusty was telling me that Steve hadn’t been doing well lately.”

“We’re good,” Eddie said bobbing his head. “Things got a little rough a couple weeks back, but we’re on firmer ground now.”

She patted his cheek. “You really need to be taking better care of that boy. He looks tough on the outside, but he needs someone who can take care of him, yeah?”

Eddie smiled. “Of course. Taking extra good care of our Stevie is my number one priority.”

She nodded and went to go make sure Dusty was eating enough.

The next one was Karen Wheeler of all people. Ted was suspiciously but expectedly absent. She came up to Eddie and introduced herself.

“You must be Eddie!” she said with smile that reminded him of that Dustin Hoffman film.

“Oh hello,” he replied a little confused.

“Nancy has told me all about you,” Karen said with that same smile. “She’s always going on about how Steve finally found the person he was meant to be with and what a great person you are.”

Eddie smiled back. “Nancy’s a great girl.”

She sighed a little, her smile turning into something a little more genuine. “I miss having Steve over. Jonathan is great boy for my Nance, but Steve sparkled where Jonathan only shines.”

“I won’t argue with you on that one,” Eddie said. “But then Jonathan isn’t my type.”

She swatted at him playfully. “All I’m trying to say if that Steve is a good boy and deserves only the best. So you’ll take good care of him, won’t you?” It was sweet and sincere, but a hint of steel. And suddenly Eddie knew where Nancy got her backbone of steel from.

“Always,” Eddie promised, hand over heart.

“See that you do,” Karen said and wandered off to compare brownie recipes with Joyce.

The third was a squirrelly looking balding guy with thick glasses and far too knowing stare. He had come with Chief Hopper and had spent most of the night watching Eddie. He had asked Nancy who he was and she said his name was Murray Bauman and he was a conspiracy theorist. Which really didn’t clear anything up for him, but this rag-tag group of rebels and fighters were all a little weird.

He wandered over to Eddie and looked him up and down. He said in a clear voice, “I have seen things you wouldn’t believe, I’ve done things that would make your hair curl on end,” he stopped for a moment, “make it curlier and I know where the bodies are hidden. If you hurt Steve, you’ll be the next one.”

“Murray!” Hopper yelled. “What the hell was that? Why would you say that?”

Murray blinked at Hopper and then tilted his head. “Because we love Steve?” He says long and slow like he’s talking to a stupid person.

Eddie burst out laughing.

“No, no,” he said between giggles. “It’s fine Hopper. It’s all fine!”

Murray looked him over again and then nodded. “Yes, you’ll do.” And then he wandered off back into the house as if he had done what he had come to do.

A few minutes later Steve came up and sat next to Eddie. “I’m sorry, I don’t even know what that was.”

Eddie giggled and bumped their shoulders together. “It’s fine, sweetheart. It’s actually kinda adorable.”

Steve frowned. “What is?”

“That it’s the moms plus Murray here,” Eddie said jerking his chin in the direction Murray had wandered off to, “that are the most protective of you. Both Mrs Wheeler and Henderson have told me under no certain terms am I allowed to hurt you and that I’m supposed to take care of you.”

Steve blinked and searched the crowd for Claudia first. She spotted him looking at her and she waved at him. Steve smiled and waved back. Then he searched for Karen. She didn’t look at him directly, but merely winked and went back to talking to Wayne about something he couldn’t quite hear.

“Oh.”

“But don’t you worry, darlin’,” Eddie purred. “I’m gonna take very good care of you.”

Steve kissed him, slow and deep. “And I will always take care of you, Eds.”

“Perfect.”

It really was.

*** 

Tag List: @justforthedead89 @zerokrox-blog @ihavekidneys @didntwant2come @thelittleclare @liorereshkigal @estrellami-1 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @telidina @stevesbipanic @paintsplatteredandimperfect @a-little-unsteddie @jonesn4coffee  @resident-gay-bitch @obliosworld @croatoan-like-its-hot @evix-syne666 @emly03 @wonderland-girl143-blog @bookworm0690 @mysticcrownshipper @i-must-potato  @pnk-lemonades 

[ciahasnolife]

I knoooow, I should post the second part of the loscar fic but... I might've or might not have been working on a lestappen omegaverse fic?

So here's a wip of it

So the problem with being an omega while everyone thinks you're an alpha is that they treat you like an alpha. It's not like Max wanted any special treatment, exactly the opposite of that. That's why he hid his secondary gender from the public who just then assumed he's an alpha. With his board shoulders, his careless reputation towards the media and with his bluntness it was logical. Since the FIA and pretty much everyone in the paddock already knew, he doesn't have to tell the world which he is grateful for.

He would hate being pictured as a fragile, weak person who needs someone to take care of him. He is a lot of things but weak is not one of them. But sometimes - just sometimes - when people boo at him for example on the podium at the Miami GP, he just wants to hide in his nest, curled around his boyfriend, who would then draw circles on his back with his other hand soothingly in his hair.

There are two problems with that. One is that he for obvious reasons can't do that and the other is that he doesn't have a boyfriend. He doesn't want to share with anyone that he's an omega because of the fear of them telling the whole world if something goes wrong between them, his father made sure he developed this fear very soon after he presented as an omega. His father was so angry and ashamed of him because of something he couldn't even change. So now, he doesn't really trust anyone except for the ones who already know, not that he would have the time for dating, he's too busy breaking records.

Besides, he wouldn't want anyone else but a certain man with the most charming style you've ever seen and his hot accent, a dream come true. Of course, with a personality and looks like that, the alpha has omegas after himself 24/7. Max couldn't even stand a chance.

The point is, that when people whistle or boo at him, he just wants to hide away. Under the covers or preferably behind the alpha but of course in those moments he can't do either.

So when he's about to do his interview, which he doesn't want either and if neither the fans are interested, they could all just leave it, but no, the fans have to boo at him and whistle and make him feel bad because neither of the Ferrari drivers could catch him, he couldn't be more grateful for Charles to shush them. And if he's being completely honest, it makes him fall for the monégasque even more.

He shoots a quick smile at the other and does his interview then goes on with his day like he always does on quali days. Team debrief, stay in with GP to find the perfect strategy for tomorrow's race, go back to the hotel, get the scent blockers off and go shower. What he doesn't expect is a message waiting for him as he gets out of the shower from someone who makes his heart flutter.

Hey, just wanted to check on you, if you're okay?

Charles:

I know that the Italian fans can be a bit harsh on everyone who isn't at Ferrari.

I'm sorry they're so mean to you :(

And Max can't believe his eyes. Because one, did Charles really waste even a minute on texting him instead of basking in the love of the Tifosi and two, was that a sad face?

He just shakes his head and replies.

Yeah, everything's alright.

Max:

Thanks for shushing them, means a lot

The last bit gets deleted before he sends it. Not like it doesn't mean a lot, he's just afraid that he's giving away too much and the younger will learn about his embarrassingly huge crush on him.

He doesn't think too much of it though just makes his way over to his suitcase to get a fresh pair of boxers out of it.

But as he goes back to the bed and picks his phone back up with his WhatsApp with the monégasque still open, he sees the three dots pop up and then disappear only to reappear seconds later.

It makes the omega curious because even if they’ve been on good terms, friends even with the other for a while now they don't really talk outside the track on race weekend so the first message was already unexpected just as it was also sweet of the alpha to check on him, Max can't even take a guess on what the other would want from him.

As he was thinking the text finally came in so he checks it with a bit too much enthusiasm. And Max once again can't believe his eyes.

Which hotel you're staying at?

Charles:

Just as he goes to reply, another bubble comes up.

Fuck, no, that sounded weird.

Charles:

I meant if I could come over to keep you company and I could also get away from the fans waiting for my every move under my window.

It is of course okay if you want to be alone I totally understand that too

Just thought we could hang out a for a bit play

With each mesaage his eyes open wider. Surely Charles finally lost his mind. I was only a matter of time anyway with the shitbox he has under him. He, however, doesn't want to be rude so he sends out a message that - hopefully - doesn't give away too much of how excited he is.

Sure, I have my FIFA on me if you're in the mood of losing

Max:

He can only hope that the other gets the joke because Max has been told that he's a dry texter several times. But today, luck decided to be on his side.

Ooh, it's on

Charles:

Send the address, Verstappen

If you dare;)

And with a grin that could blind the Tifosi camping outside the alpha's hotel, Max sends the address.

[thepoetjean-makes-stuff]

HOW TO ACTUALLY WRITE -- THE BASICS (AKA STEP 0-1)

(AKA ThePoetJean justifies their Master's degree and makes it everyone else's problem)

1) "WRITING IS REWRITING" AND WHAT THE HELL THAT MEANS -- No writing is law or set in stone upon the first draft, and whoever taught you that is a bum. Even permanent glue can be removed by nail polish remover, so why is editing your first draft no different? When writing for fun, oftentimes you can edit the post and clean up the story when things are no longer working (it's called a cutting room floor for a reason). When writing for publishing, you'll often be paired with an editor who'll send tweaks back-and-forth to you, chipping away at any structural mistakes or grammar flaws to bring out the point of your writing piece in the process. The first draft is just about getting the general vibes of the story down: like the batter for the cake recipe before you start baking it. This part is meant to be fun and messy and no one expects you to serve them go when you're just cracking your eggs open. Let yourself be messy cuz (burnt or fluffy), this is the first step to making your story, so no need to have something be all pretty and presentable the first time around! Again, a lot of writing is just rewriting cuz drafts are a thing so getting stuff down is most important. And another amazing thing -- if the story sucks, you can always change it later! You gotta trust yourself to get it done in order to get it out to the world one way or another, so go do that!

2) LEARN YOUR OWN WRITING PROCESS! -- (OH MY GOD PPL, LEARN HOW YOU TO THE THING IT'S HALF THE BATTLE!) Most of the struggles I see with newer writers is never learning how they write, and that sucks since have the joy of making things is making the thing -- so why make writing stories so arduos for yourself. Learn your own methods and use them whenever you get to writing! Learn the writerly basics like plot, structure, framing, character voice, setting, time period, etc and learn how best you can utilize them in your own stories! On a purely craft level: Learn ALL THE WRITING CRAFT and keep in mind that all writing craft is meant to be guidelines rather than hard rules. Learn many ways about how to write in general cuz no writing advice is one size fits all and being embarrassed of your process is dumb and hinders your creative growth. Trust yourself as a writer, you'll improve faster that way. Believing you can and believing it's possible is the first step to doing anything! (Plus all writing is rewriting anyhow to there's no need to feel embarrassed about something you can fix later, anyways, right?)

3) Read projects like your project in order to get a better feel of your project. Whether it be writing style references, basic literary craft examples, or just you want to break down the vibes of the stories so you can better emulate in your own -- GO AND WATCH/READ/LISTEN ETC TO WHATEVER STORIES YOU THINK WOULD MATCH THE VIBES OF YOUR OWN!! Now, this isn't a 1-to-1 copy, you're not mean to make a clone of the thing you like or take properties for the IP that you're into -- that's more along the lines of fanfiction (which can be fun and is ofc, super valid) -- BUT! To create your own stories, you need to learn where you get your ideas from, and learn how to implement, borrow, twist, etc from the story structures and properties you gather your inspo from. Other writers are your peers, not your enemies -- so treat their work and your own with the respect it deserves. No two chicken sandwiches are ever exactly the same; true artists steal from many places, so learn how to be a good thief (creatively speaking). Example from my own secret WIP novel: I'm writing a New Adult Urban fantasy novel with a dark, powerful lady protagonist that uses lots of philosophical themes, alternate history perspectives as well as using mythology as a basis for a lot of the magical roots and setting roots. Likewise, this a story about friendship and romance after major loss and trauma, and how to come back to yourself after grief, so I've been looking for stories that cover those themes in their plots, which has made the story a lot more fun to read and write outside of just being a cool concept to play with.

If you're writing a second-chance romance story, read romance stories. If you're writing a sci-fi story with lots of robots, read stories about robots. Presumably, you enjoy the same stories you're writing in concept if not in execution, so don't hesitate to seek those stories out, and break down how those stories work in order to scrap them for literary parts. You're smarter than you think you are, and breaking down stories is a lot of fun once you get the hang of it, so please consider doing this as you go into your next project, your writing will thank you for it!

OPTIONAL:

4) If the story works better as something else, swap the format and see what happens.

Have you ever read something and been like "Huh, I like this book, but with how iconography is used in the actual text, it might be better as a movie or a comic book"? So have I!

So, if you ever feel like the story you're writing isn't working so well as a novel or a play, consider turning it into a movie or a webcomic! Of course, this is all easier said than done, and every writing format comes with its own rules and limitations, but I'd give it a try if you ever want to see your project from a fresh perspective! If nothing else, you'll learn something new -- and become a better writer for it!

Til next time, beloveds~

__

PS. Take all advice with a grain of salt. I am not your parent or your principal, I'm just a lady with a writing degree and a lil free time. Take what resonates, leave what doesn't, etc. PLEASE SHARE THIS POST AROUND TO ANYONE WHO IT MIGHT HELP! THANKIES :3

KOFI: https://ko-fi.com/thepoetjean

[septembriseur]

i just went in for another reread of the old words, and it remains one of the most gorgeous and brutal character studies ever posted on ao3 dot edu lol. i have found myself thinking about it a lot recently, since it is so much about violence and survival and existential anxiety when one's country has basically ceased to exist and one's citizenship is toxic. your musings on that kind of victimhood/perpetration balancing act and the resulting power paradox have really clarified things for me. but it is quite a different experience to be reading it in october 2024 than it was to read it in may 2021. and i know that your own life has changed so much since then. i seem to remember you saying somewhere that you went into writing it with ethical questions, and writing it didnt answer those questions, but it got you closer. it would be interesting to see you do a postmortem on that fic now. only if you want to! much love.

Well, first of all, THANKS.

It's crazy reading that story and seeing how clearly ideas (or revelations?) were percolating that would become fully formed after August 2021.

In terms of the central moral statement, I think it holds up. Actually, I'm struck by the light it sheds on a struggle I've been having recently: how to explain to people why torture and collateral damage are wrong. (Yes, this is a real, practical problem I'm dealing with.) I find myself wanting to explore the idea more, particularly because I'm surprised by how much I really like the Zemo that I created. (I was so good at writing dialogue then!)

I suppose I also feel that I didn't too badly at communicating other things, because there are parts that I feel so much more strongly about now that I could almost cry reading them, even when they're a little heavy-handed.

There are definitely technical things about the story that I would change. I don't think I had a fully formed idea of what I thought Sokovia was, and that ended up developing in more detail in my subsequent WIP. (Somewhere I have an extraordinarily detailed timeline of Sokovian history.) I had a shallower understanding of almost all of the issues involved: what it means to live with a history of violence; what it means to have lost your homeland; what it means to be "developing." I also think that I was more cautious and less radical than I am now:

I'm struck, in particular, by how I felt the need to clearly signal (at least inasmuch as I ever clearly signal anything in my stories) that, while rape was used as a weapon of war by Sokovian forces, Zemo did not participate. This seems cowardly. I'm very troubled by the way that, in general, fic treats rape as a kind of moral horizon. Characters can torture, murder, even mass murder— commit a variety of other war crimes— but to rape makes one an Evil Person. This, of course, is crazy. The men who rape in war are just as banal as other war criminals. I can imagine a more effective and less popular version of this fic in which Zemo did use rape as a weapon of war, which is consistent with the historical examples I've drawn on, and must overcome that as well as the rest of his sins. In fact, I very much want to write that story— if only I could carve out the time to do it.

Somewhere inside me is a great truly radical postcolonial fic. Or, well, I have an original sci-fi novel that I've outlined that gets into some of the same issues, but really I'd love to write a truly savage Zemo fic, in part because I want it to be a commentary on the sanitized antipolitics of the MCU.

In summation: it's not perfect, but I still love it, and I wish I could write more.

[suzukiblu]

For your ask game, what’s your favorite thing you’ve ever written?

. . . god I don't even know, man, that's a LOT of things, hahaha. And like, that answer definitely changes depending on the day/year/phase of the moon. So you're getting a couple answers here! Also I'm gonna keep this mostly to DC and only include finished fics, because me picking between WIPs would take a thousand years and also probably kill us all, lol (ignore the fact that a couple of these fics have sequels in-progress right now, STILL COUNTS OKAY??).

everything happens for a reason. sometimes that reason is that you are stupid and make bad decisions. is one of the funniest fucking things I've ever written, full stop. Lex is SO fun to write, seriously, I could write him all fucking DAY.

I'm really proud of blondes really do have more fun, both because of how much it seems to have affected/touched people who read it and because I think it was my first experience with writing gender euphoria as a major thing and writing, like, an actual explicit trans narrative? Like, I definitely wrote genderfuckery and implications and metaphors before that and probably even some trans characters, arguably, but that's the first story I really remember deliberately just making about being TRANS. And also holy shit, man, did I ever love writing gender euphoria for the first time, especially because I'd mostly only seen gender DYSphoria as a focal point in other stories and it just didn't/doesn't resonate with me the same way. I'm not trans because everything else makes me miserable, I'm trans because that's what makes me HAPPY. I don't remember if I was intentionally thinking that at the time, but that's the story I wanted to write for that one.

one day this will all be yours and you found me when no one else was looking are both concepts I love and found really cathartic to write and was very pleased to finish. I love that they're sort of "families of choice" fics about, like, actual BIOLOGICAL families (like, in the context of the fics, anyway), which probably sounds weird but is a concept I'm sort of painfully fascinated by--like, about the fact that you CAN choose your family, obviously, but sometimes you're lucky enough to find out that you had someone worth choosing already and just didn't necessarily know it, or to both grow into people who CAN choose each other even if you had problems or lashed out due to outside traumas or didn't always understand each other. That's, like, very personally relevant and meaningful to me, the idea that maybe the thing that got all fucked-up and the choices you made when you didn't fully understand the consequences of them can still be worked through and repaired and made into something new and better.

Also, special mention because this one is back a few fandoms but zero humble on it: best friends means you get what you deserve is just really, really good, and I did GOOD on it, hah. I took a three-word prompt/concept and turned it into 17k of "hey, doesn't this make more sense for why this character is the way he is, and isn't this what the main character actually wanted??" in genre-savvy explanation of why the sidekick character might stick around for the antisocial asshole hero and seem perfectly happy to base their life largely around them no matter how said hero treats them, and then I made the Consequences(tm) happen to Jaskier and Geralt, both bad AND good. I am just SO dang proud of that one, UGH I love it. ❤️❤️❤️❤️ FRIENDSHIP, AND THE CONSEQUENCES THEREOF.

[picnokinesis]

thirteenth doctor and spymaster fic recs

all clear by wreckageofstars (8k, 1 chapter, thoschei/gen) summary: London’s on fire, the Doctor’s trapped in her own head, and only her worst enemy can save her. //I know I literally always rec this author in these lists, I know, but like if you've read these fics, you'll know I'm justified because they are all just brilliant. This one is no exception. The doctor and the master are so wonderfully on point, with this antagonistic push and pull between them both, whilst they both desperately try and avoid the fact that they actually still care deeply for one another - but they also hate each other's guts at the same time! And the master is there to cause problems on purpose whilst the doctor is an absolute mess post-Orphan 55 and making everything worse. An absolute joy of a fic.

the gardener by riptheh (6k, 1 chapter, thoschei/gen) summary: The Master kills because it's all he has left. Until it's not. //I had a reaaaally hard time picking fics for this post, because there are so many fics with thirteen and spymaster that I absolutely adore - but I knew from the get go that this one had to be on here, come what may. It's much more of a character study focused on the master than anything else, but of course anything about the master is also about the doctor - and it's such a beautiful exploration of the master and his relationship with death (and then, life). Just absolutely gorgeous - and surprisingly uplifting by the end? Anyway. This fic got me good, so definitely make sure you check it out.

the art of dying by lupescx (10k, 4 chapters, thoschei) summary: The Master resurfaces into the Doctor's life only to die—one burst of regeneration energy and he's back on his feet. And then he dies again. And again. She can't keep doing this. //The title might have clued you in, but this one is angsty. Extremely angsty. But, wow, it's absolutely brilliant! What a fantastic exploration of the doctor and the master pushed to their absolute limits and unable to escape from an awful, inevitable cycle. It is pretty dark in places (actually a lot of these fics are, so always heed the tags!) but if that's your jive then this story is just such a treat. Highly recommend!

The Frayed by luchia (90k, 16 chapters, thoschei, wip) summary: The TARDIS recruits a rescue team for the Doctor after the Judoon take her away, and the Master really shouldn't go. Particularly if it includes having to hang around a freakish temporal monstrosity like Jack Harkness. Then again, what does he have to lose? He could die, sure, but that means nothing when he always (always always always) comes back, whether he wants to or not. //Okay so, in my humble opinion, this fic is some of the best spymaster characterisation that I've ever seen across the entire fandom. It's exceptional - the prose is just so full of character, brilliantly unreliable and just so SO fascinating and painful in equal measure (can you tell that I like angst? I love angst so much). And also just the imaginativeness of the story itself is absolutely incredible? There's some fantastic things in there about gallifreyan as a language and Time Lord culture and TARDISes - and, of course, the doctor and the master are completely awful in the best kind of way. And if the word count looks too much for you - consider just reading chapter 16. Yep. Just that one. Like, that rewrote my brain. I read it three times the day that it posted, and I've lost count of how many times I've read it since then. So, like, please. But also you should really really read the entire thing because it's brilliant

Ust-Kut by yonderdarling (1k, 1 chapter, thoschei) summary: Unfortunately, the Master survived. Unfortunately, he finds her TARDIS. Unfortunately, he wants to talk. //Okay. So, this fic? Is possibly one of my favourite spydoc fics ever. And you might be thinking "but, taka, it's only 1k, how can it be?" - well, trust me, it just can. Short but sweet but an absolute gut-punch at the same time. Such a fascinating look at the relationship between these two, the push and pull and the knife edge that they're both on all the time - and it's so tactile? I think that's what gets me about it, if I'm honest. Anyway, absolutely beautiful writing - succinct, but boy, does every word count. It's just so so good, guys.

and without you (is how i disappear) by empty_of_dust (4k, 1 chapter, thoschei) summary: “It’s simple,” she says, impassive, like she’s not holding their very history at knife-point. “Start talking, or I start cutting.” //So, funny story, this author only started posting spydoc fic about a year ago, but oh my word, my guys, they are insanely good. They just get these two in a way that drives me absolutely feral, and their writing style is such a joy to read. I was extremely torn on which fic of theirs to rec, but I settled on this one in the end. The sheer concept of it is absolutely brilliant and gut-wrenching in the most spydoc way ever: a mid-s12 doctor uses the history between her and the master as a bargaining tool to get him to tell her what he discovered in the matrix, blood and biting including. But, yknow. just do yourself a favour and read this author's entire body of work because it is extremely worth it. You won't regret it, I'm sure.

i only speak in silences by daring_elm (2k, 1 chapter, gen) summary: The Doctor can't just leave the Master behind, so she sends him a hologram. //do you ever get a fic that you forget exists, and then you find it again and go OHHHH THIS ONE??? That was me with this fic (and, honestly, this author, who has a ton of great stuff that you should all check out). We all know that the doctor and the master are awful at communicating, but this fic is such a wonderful exploration of it - of the ways that they refuse to be vulnerable with each other, the ways that they are so angry with each other, but also can't help but be drawn back to each other all at the same time. An absolute cracker!

awake and unafraid (asleep or dead) by SleepyMaddy (5k, 1 chapter, thoschei) summary: The Doctor has trouble sleeping. The Master, in typical fashion, makes it worse. //There are so many fics by this author that I could recommend on a post like this, but a spydoc rec post has got to have at least one fic on there that plays with O/13, because it's just such brilliant, painful angst in the softest way. And there are a great many fics that explore it, but this one just takes the cake. Impeccable s12 angst wrapped up in o/13 softness, complete with thirteen making terrible decisions for literally the entire thing. Absolutely astounding writing, beautifully in character and just so painful in the best kind of way. This one killed me, guys. It killed me.

chaos theory by BlueLillyBlue (61k, 11 chapters, gen, wip) summary: The TARDIS has crash-landed in England, 2019, and the Doctor is acting cagey. Also, spacetime might be collapsing. So... Yaz's week isn't off to a great start. //Ohhhh man ok ok. This fic. Is a goldmine. This author is just absolutely SPOT ON with how they write thirteen, and their plots are just an absolute delight and tick soooo many boxes for me. They always make the world they're writing in feel so rich and real, whether that's a starving community on a frozen moon or a hotel in Cornwall. But this one is just so up my street because the master is in it, and oh my GOODNESS guys, it's just - it's just so, so good. If you haven't been following this one along already, then get going on that, stat!

together, we average out to dry land by hawkeishest (1k, 1 chapter, thoschei) summary: If she thought about it, really, this was all Ryan’s fault. He was the one who’d touched the statue. Though, to be fair to him, she should have known the temple would have some kind of psychic defence system. And now her head felt like it was cracking open. //I feel like most people have read this one because it's such a classic, but for anyone who missed it or is new to the fandom - this one is a must read. Absolutely fantastic exploration of the doctor and the master's psychic abilities and the connection between them, written with the most gorgeous descriptions. Just brilliant. Go check it out!

[blossomwritesthings]

𝐚 𝐟𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 | 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐭 & 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐬

⬷ 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞┊ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 ┊ 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 →

pairing: minho x felix (minlix)

genre: dancer!minho/artist!felix. brothers best friend troupe. college au. age gap (abt 4 years). minho pov. extremely dark themes throughout, including smut - MDNI, 18+ only.

word count: 3.6k

the playlist 🗡️

a/n: GUYS GUYS GUYS !!!!!! ITS SOO VERY FUCKING SERIOUS FOR MEEEEE!!!! 😫😩 TODAY IS SKZPALOOZA AND IM ABOUT TO FUCKING KMSSSS!!!! 😭😫 okay anyways, back to our regular programming... this episode was a lot heavier and darker than all the others ones, and it will only get worse from here. I didn't want to make it very long and drag out the scene for this, or to make light of it. I wanted to treat everything that happens to Felix in this as delicately and gently as I can. I hope you guys are enjoying this lil series of mine, and I can't wait for ya'll to read the next few parts! 💗

🗡️ - ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ other cool stuff ❜┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋread my rules & guidelines here! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋcheck out my skz masterlist! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋmy wip list! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ skz fic recs [sfw ver]! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋskz fic recs [nsfw ver]! :: 18+, MDNI! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋback to navigation! ࿐ྂ

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ sɪᴛᴇs (ᴛʜɪs ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇs ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴs). do not copy, spin-off, or write inspired work based off of this fanfic without full permission to do so. ©ʙʟᴏssᴏᴍᴡʀɪᴛᴇsᴛʜɪɴɢs ⤐ ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ

̶﹒⊹﹒ᴀ ᴡʜɪsᴋᴇʏ ʙᴏᴛᴛʟᴇ ɪᴛ ᴡʜɪsᴘᴇʀs sɪɴᴄᴇ ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ᴀʟʀᴇᴀᴅʏ ʙɪᴛᴛᴇʀ ！،، 🌌  𖥻 𓂃 ᴀ ᴄᴏᴄᴋᴛᴀɪʟ ғɪᴛ ғᴏʀ ᴀ ǫᴜɪᴛᴛᴇʀ ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ ᴀ ᴋɪss╰╮ 🌑

  Thankfully, the campus was pretty dead and deserted on the weekends, since everyone was sprawled out across the place or getting lost somewhere in the city. 

  Minho did run into a few of his classmates in the practice hall while he worked over that weekend, but since there were a handful of rooms for each class year, he didn’t have too much trouble finding time to himself. 

  So that’s how he spent his entire weekend, sweating off all of his problems and shoving down all of his feelings with gallons of water. By the time Sunday night rolled around, he was completely exhausted. His legs felt like jelly and his arms trembled each time he tried to do that certain part of their routine that he was having so much difficulty with.

  He had started getting a headache earlier in the afternoon — probably from all of the stress of classes — so he had turned off the studio lights. With it being so late at night on a random Sunday, everyone had gone home and he was the only one left in the Technical Dance Studio building. 

  The waning crescent moon shone outside the studio window like a toenail, offering enough light on the hardwood floors for Minho to see his steps and what he was messing up. Besides, he had an unusually exceptional vision in the dark, so if having the lights off helped his head, he was able to put up with it. 

  “Fuck— why can’t I get this right?!” He exclaimed in a frustrated tone, stopping his movements and staring at himself in the mirror. His shoulders heaved with each breath he took, with his entire upper half drenched in sweat. The white t-shirt that he always wore for luck to practice was completely see-through from how much he had been dancing. 

  Silence ensued across the practice room, as Minho blew out a few deep breaths to regulate his racing heart. The dark shadows curled around the corners of the wooden floors, making the place seem eery in a calming kind of way.

  “You shouldn’t push yourself so much.” 

  Just like that, his body was completely freezing up. Pulling taught like a bowstring, he could feel his entire spine going rigid and pin-straight. In the reflection of the mirror, his eyes searched the darkness behind him. 

  There, he found the source of the voice. 

  A soft, light, familiar tone. 

  In the shadows, it was hard to make him out entirely, but the blonde locks that were slightly messy were unmistakable. 

  Minho yanked his eyes away from the reflection as Felix neared the moonlight slowly. “What are you doing here?” He asked, reaching down to the ground and grabbing his towel to wipe off the sweat that was dripping down his forehead. “I thought you never wanted to see me again.” 

  Felix was quiet for a few beats after that- like he was calculating and deciding his next words. Then, “I never fucking said that… I just meant that I—”

  Dropping the towel back on top of his bag, Minho turned around to face Felix. “That, what? You’ll always hate my guts and I’m a horrible person? Trust me, you don’t have to tell me twice, I already fucking know.” He ground out, giving Felix a deadpan stare without any bit of mirth. 

  But he was trying to put up a front. Because inside, the concern was burning him up. Eating him alive, from how thin Felix looked since the last time he had truly seen him at the party a few weeks before. 

  Almost like… he hadn't been eating. 

  His clothes weren’t as put together as Minho was used to seeing him wear around campus. His dark blue hoodie and matching sweatpants hung off his limbs like if the autumn wind blew hard enough, they’d rip right off. 

  Felix shoved his hands into his pockets roughly, finally meeting Minho’s gaze. The pain Minho saw there, the disheveled hair and the wrinkly eyebrows, Minho didn’t know how to process it all. “I’ve never hated you, Minho.” He said, a little quieter than before. “I don’t know how I ever could.”

  “Well, you should. Because I’m a horrible person.” 

  “Don’t say that, you’re not. If anything, I’m the shitty one here— I fucking invited you to that stupid party when I knew how it would be and I don’t know why I thought it’d be a good place to—”

  Minho canted his head to the side just a tiny bit, leaning his back against the mirror behind him. In the moonlight, Felix’s blonde tresses shone like spun golden starlight. “You don’t have to explain yourself. I shouldn’t have gone in the first place, it was a bad decision and I should’ve listened to Chris.” 

  Felix’s eyes darkened a little bit at the mention of his older brother like he had some personal vendetta against him. “Why, because my brother said I’m a bad boy these days and my choice of friends are shit?” 

  Shrugging slowly, Minho’s eyes scanned down the expanse of Felix once more. And he could feel the younger’s eyes tracking him, as Felix subtly shifted his stance so that his shoulder was leaning against the wall right beside the floor-length window. Like he was self-conscious and he didn’t want Minho to study him too well. 

  “No, Chris never said anything like that. He just— didn’t think it was a good idea, with the opposite grade years and stuff. Maturity-wise, I guess.” Minho’s voice had grown a little quieter in the silence of the practice room, watching as his words changed the emotions displayed on Felix’s face. They went from anger to sadness, to defeat rather quickly.

  Felix hit the side of his head rather roughly with a fist, “I’m so fucking stupid— I just wanted to— I just wanted to be with you. And I couldn’t even do that right because I can’t do anything right and—”

  “Felix, hey— stop. It’s okay, you’re not stupid. It’s not a big deal so don’t worry about it,” Minho said, waving a hand in the air to try and dismiss some of the tension in the room. But he was lying right through his teeth. Because the things that had happened that night at the party still stuck with him, even weeks later. “I’m over it, so it’s fine.”

  By then, Felix was covering his face with his hands, sighing so deeply into them that his fragile shoulders were shaking incrementally. “But I’m not! I fucked up like I always do! I ruined everything and I know that you hate me— and that you’re lying!” His outburst forced Minho to freeze in his place, waiting for him to continue. And then Felix was pulling his hands away from his face and Minho watched as the rivers started running down his cheeks. “I just— I really missed you and I—”

  Minho didn’t afford him any more words. He was crossing the small expanse between them and enveloping Felix in a hug before anything else could happen. It was muscle memory, truly. He didn't think about anything else at that moment - about himself or his own emotions. And instead, all that rang out in his brain was: comfort him, comfort him, comfort him. 

  It was their first hug since Felix had started at the university. He felt so light and fragile in Minho’s grasp, and he made careful work of wrapping his arms around Felix’s waist. Slowly, he brought a hand up to Felix’s neck, stroking the back of his head in a soothing motion. 

  “It’s okay, Lixie. I’m not upset, really,” Minho said, completely being truthful. Because how could he be any more upset than Felix was? How could he continue to be, when Felix was breaking down in his arms? Felix’s shaking hands clawed at his sweaty back, small fingers gripping the damp fabric there. “Please, don’t cry. I hate seeing you cry.” 

  Those were the same words he had told Felix the day he broke the news that he was moving away from their small hometown in Busan to university hours away in Seoul. He always remembered that day, like it had only happened recently. 

  He remembered the look on Felix’s face, happiness shattering completely and the tears already clouding the corners of his eyes. 

  Fourteen-year-old Felix was a sight to behold, with his midnight-black locks and rosy cheeks. 

  Even still, eighteen-year-old Minho watched Felix’s heart break that day, as he reached forward to him and desperately grabbed for Minho’s waist. He remembered the ear-piercing wailing, the shaking from Felix that day. The way he couldn't stop crying or beating at Minho's chest. Just begging him not to go- begging him to say sike and stay with him there. 

  And the way that Felix was holding onto him in the practice room, it felt like that day to Minho all over again. But not as loud and not as open. Like… Felix was holding himself back.

  Felix was muttering something into the crook of Minho’s neck, over and over again between his tears. His shaking overtook Minho’s entire body, making it hard to breathe from how badly his heart was breaking. He just wanted Felix to be okay, no matter what. That’s all he had ever wanted. 

  With gentle hands, he hoisted Felix up onto the windowsill that was just behind him. The small alcove afforded enough room for Felix to perch on it easily, and with the added leverage, Minho was slowly able to start pulling him away from his form to talk. 

  But the moment he grasped onto Felix's wrists to peel him away from his body, the younger man flinched unmistakably, yanking his arms out of Minho’s reach. 

  Minho could feel the blood in his system grow cold instantly. Running chilled in his veins, his heart slowed down inside his chest. Beating weakly against his ribcage, Minho’s lips were moving before he could even process the words. “Did someone hurt you, Felix?” 

  Through his tears, the younger man had the sense to shake his head in a reply. But the way he was cradling his arms told Minho something a lot different. With slow movements, like a hunter not wanting to scare away a deer, Minho took hold of Felix’s wrists again. 

  He brought them close to him once more. Felix was completely frozen in front of him, spine rigid as a board, eyes screwed shut as the tears raced down his freckled cheeks in silent despair. “Please— d-don’t—” He begged, tone breaking and cracking like a shattered piece of glass, the desperation so palpable, Minho could taste it on his tongue. 

  But the pleas were completely irrelevant, both of them knew. Minho was going to, anyway. Like he had always done in the past. 

  Then, he found himself pushing up the thick sleeves of Felix’s hoodie, all the way up to his elbows. The darkness of the room made everything go incredibly quiet and hushed, but the moonlight afforded enough light for Minho to decipher the redness and fresh lines there, imprinted into Felix’s normally milky-smooth skin. 

  “How long?” 

  Is all he asked, focus still on Felix’s arms and on the way he had been hurting so much without Minho even knowing. Without anyone knowing, like always. 

  “I-It doesn’t matter, I’m going to stop.” Felix shook in his arms, and Minho slowly covered up his arms again with his sleeves. 

  “It does matter though, Felix. You always matter.” Minho spoke softly so that only Felix was able to hear his words. And no one else, ever. 

  Felix wiped away his tears, the tip of his nose red from crying so much and his cheeks still wet. “Since the party, I guess… I just couldn’t—”

  Minho could feel his heart break even more at the confession. Since the party. Since everything had blown up in their faces and Minho had ruined it all. “I’m sorry— I never meant to hurt you like this…” He whispered, bringing Felix closer to him again and squeezing his sides in a hug. 

  “It’s not your fault. It’s no one's fault, Min. It’s my stupid issues… after everything, it’s how I cope sometimes.” Felix said, nuzzling his head into Minho’s shoulder like a kitten seeking attention from its owner. 

  Moving his head to the side, Minho closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of Felix. Of his floral perfume and the hidden smoke of weed and the fruitiness of his shampoo. His lips hovered over Felix’s head, not touching, but not backing away either. Yet he couldn’t force himself to kiss his head, either. There was still so much time lost and feelings unknown that was stopping Minho from doing anything else than giving comfort just then. 

  “I guess, I assumed because you’ve changed so much since our childhood, you’ve worked through everything,” Minho started, sighing against Felix in defeat. But that notion was flawed, to begin with. Because the fact that Felix was so changed didn’t necessarily signal a good thing. “That’s a stupid thought, I know. I shouldn’t have assumed it.” 

  Pulling away from Minho again, Felix stared up at him with gaping, wide eyes that were puffy from crying so much. He bit down on his lips, focus going everywhere in the room except Minho. “Yeah, I— high school was a lot, when you guys left. But I don’t really… wanna talk about it.” Then Felix’s eyes were landing back on Minho’s. 

  When their gazes met once more, Minho caught the bit of hurt that Felix tried to hide away. It was tiny and waning, but he still noticed the dim light nonetheless. He had noticed it the first time they had met in the campus gardens, and again at the party. It was so small and sheltered, that anyone else would have never even caught a glimpse of it. 

  But Minho did, like Minho always did when it came to Felix. Just like every time he knew when Felix had turned to harming again during their childhood. He could read it on his face, on the way he carried himself. They were two depressed boys who sought refuge in each other for a time. And it seemed like even into adulthood, they were still two depressed boys seeking out one another in their lowest moments. 

  Lee Minho was not stupid. He could read people similarly to how Hyunjin could.  He knew when something was amiss, and when someone was hiding things from their past.

  He knew that Felix was doing that exact thing. But Minho had yet to figure out what exactly he was hiding. Felix put on a good show — wore a pretty, popular mask — but Minho had a sneaky suspicion that underneath all of the smiles, glitter, and sex, there was a lot of darkness and scars. 

  “You don’t have to tell me anything, ever. I just want to know that you’re okay and safe and that you’ll work on stopping again.” Minho said, motioning with his head down to Felix’s arms again. He had seen him do it before — fall into bouts of depression and turn to cutting, but then pull himself up with the help of Minho. “If you ever need to talk, ever need to distract yourself from it, you tell me, okay?”

  Felix was shaking his head in agreement, blinking back the last bit of his tears and tucking a few messy strands of his hair behind his ear. “You… don’t have my phone number though. So how can I—”

  Minho waved his words away with a nonchalant hand, “It’s still the same one ending in 0325, right?” 

  “Uhm… yeah?”

  “Then I have it.” 

  At that, Felix’s body froze again. Eyebrows rising in surprise and pupils sparkling just a tad bit, he couldn’t help but crack a tiny smile. “You mean you saved my contact from all those years ago?” 

  Minho didn’t know how to reply to that. Should he tell Felix how he felt, after all of the years that had passed? Or should he wait for things to happen naturally and let everything slide into place, however that happened? He decided on the latter, at that moment. “Yeah, I figured I’d run into you at some point since you’re my best friend’s little brother.” 

  Felix glared his way, rolling his eyes just a tiny bit in exasperation. “Don’t fucking remind me.” 

  Chris was an amazing brother to Felix, but Minho knew how rocky their relationship was at times. Chris knew a small bit about Felix’s struggles with depression and anxiety growing up, but he had no idea about the cutting. The first time Minho found out about it when they were in high school, Felix had begged on his hands and knees, face wet with tears and snot, for Minho not to tell Chris. 

  And ever since then, Minho had kept to his promise. So Felix never had to worry about Minho tattling, since he was a man of his word. 

  “But, it’s really late now. You’ve been practicing all day and you’re exhausted so I should let you go…” Felix’s voice drifted off into the hushed space between them, pulling Minho out of his thoughts. 

  “I’m not exhausted.”

  Reaching out, one of Felix’s hands ran up the length of Minho’s damp bicep. Tracing across his shoulder and brushing against the back of his neck, Felix stared up at Minho with slightly hooded eyes. “Then why are you shaking so much?” In the darkness of the room, the shadows seemed to dance underneath his eyes, curling around his face and making his bleached-blonde hair look smokier. 

  Taking in a deep breath, Minho held it in his chest, watching the way that Felix’s eyes ran over the length of his face. He could feel his fingers moving behind his neck, brushing against the nape there before going into his hair and combing through Minho’s locks slowly. 

  “You and I both know nothing can happen, Felix. It never can, not again.” He decided to not answer Felix’s question but instead lay down the boundary line of what they were. He was saying, in a masked, gentler kind of way, that they could only just be friends. 

  Felix’s fingers froze in his hair, and Minho watched as the look on his face melted into a puddle of sadness. The disappointment flashed in his eyes just as his shoulders slumped a little bit in defeat. “Why… because you think I’m too far gone these days?” 

  “No, it’s not that,” Minho started, but couldn’t find the right words with Felix still touching his bare skin. So he reached behind his neck and grabbed his hand. Taking it into his own, he squeezed Felix’s fingers lightly. “I just— I think we both need time to process everything. We’ve been through a lot in the past few years and we both need healing from it all.” 

  “But we can help each other. We can heal together." 

  “Not in the way you think, Lixie.” 

  At that, Felix was gradually pulling his hand out of Minho’s grasp. “I’m sorry… It’s getting late, we should both head home.” And just like that, the atmosphere was changing again. Minho could sense Felix shutting himself in again, hollowing out his shell and hiding once more. He stared up at Minho, offering him a bright smile. But the older man knew that it held little mirth beneath it. “Besides, you probably have to practice again tomorrow, so you should let your body rest.” 

  Then Felix was moving away from Minho’s presence entirely, slinking towards the studio’s doors. The soft, calming energy surrounding them snapped like a rubber band in an instant. Minho could hear his heart beating in his ears, his blood thrumming through his veins with fiery-white heat. “Please don’t be upset, Felix. It’s for the best, trust me.” He said, trailing after Felix as he quickly grabbed his things from the floor and slipped through the front door. 

  “I’m not upset, I promise,” Felix said, turning to him and reaching out to squeeze Minho’s hand comfortingly. “Besides, now I know your phone number is still the same from our high school days. So I can text you to hang out whenever I want. As friends.” 

  Then he was pulling away from Minho’s side entirely, turning in the direction of the freshman’s dormitory which was on the other side of the campus. 

  “Call me, please. I’ll always pick up and I’ll always text.” Minho shouted in the wake of Felix leaving him. The younger man turned around after that and flashed him a thumbs-up with a bright smile. “Text me when you get home safely!”

  Minho watched the entire time, as Felix slinked into the foggy night ahead. The chilled air bit at Minho’s sweat-slick skin, but he stood there until he could no longer decipher Felix’s blonde locks from the golden leaves around campus. 

  And as he turned around and made his way home, he had the distinct feeling that he had royally fucked up. Even though he had put down a boundary, and spoke his mind about what he wanted in that moment, he was quickly realizing that Felix possibly wanted something entirely different. 

  But Minho would rather sweep everything under the rug — as in, their true feelings for each other — instead of deal with the problems at hand. That was his specialty.

  It’s just too bad that Felix wanted the exact opposite of that. 

  And it was too bad that they were too far apart in age and maturity and… their journeys in life, to ever come together again. 

  To be back in the same place that they shared during childhood, which was suspended in time. But there was no turning back the clock, so Minho thought there was no use in pondering over it any further. 

─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ───

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[fearecia]

Putting this in a pinned post to make it easy to find/share. We all know how Tumblr is about things (and to be fair, I'm terrible and inconsistent as hell with tags).

Link to the "shoulder release" document:

Notes about this guide:

This is a WIP, and still very much in the rough draft phase. Please forgive typos/errors. I literally haven't done a single edit yet.

The document focuses on releasing shoulders as a way to treat neck tension and migraines. Seriously, just trust me. It helps.

Carpal tunnel? Tennis elbow? Golfer's elbow? AC (acromioclavicular) joint injury? Rotator cuff problems? Tight upper back? Sporadic numbness in your arm? Seriously, just try the muscles already listed. You'll likely find at least some relief. Like, if it involves the upper body, release your shoulders.

I've done my best to make this able to be understood by people without massage training. So if it seems like it's covering really "obvious" info, that's intentional. Just skip the section if you already know things.

A lot of massage therapists may balk at me telling you to dig around in your own armpit. We're taught in school to avoid the area. Why? Because there's a crap ton of nerves and blood vessels there. *Which is precisely why releasing this area is so powerful.* There's also a ton of muscle (on yes, basically everybody) here that will protect all those structures. It's honestly really safe so long as you stick to "In pain, refrain!" And read the other rules too.

90% of the time, the culprit is one of the four muscles listed (or any combination of them). If you are someone who exercises a lot/does yoga/is otherwise pretty physically active, you are more likely to fall into the 10% of people who will have their issue somewhere else/it will just be really hard to find. So bear that in mind.

Sadly, this sort of thing will probably never be a "one and done" type of deal. Most of the things we do every day steadily build up to cause problems, and you have to constantly work to undo that entropy. So save these notes for future you.

And just in case you want to know what the hell qualifies me to make this sort of document, here are my "quals."

My first career attempt was nursing. While this did not go well (doctors don't really appreciate autistic students willing to question their authority) I learned a shit ton about the body. I became a student teacher for the anatomy and physiology class because I was so good at it (and that professor used to teach the pre-med students). A&P is now literally one of my special interests.

8 years as a licensed massage therapist focused exclusively on injury therapy. I studied Rolfing techniques, and primarily used trigger point therapy, structural integration, and myofascial release as my tools. Clients liked to joke that going to see me was like seeing the physical therapist (they weren't wrong).

Some of the stuff I share is literally self taught through "following the tension" in clients bodies. Like, I developed some of my protocols. And then practiced and refined them over 100s of bodies. The goal was always the most efficient and least painful way to achieve lasting release.

I eventually destroyed my shoulder doing massage (which was injured long before this career due to an AC joint sprain gotten when I was 20). Bonus, this means I'm *very* practiced at releasing my own shoulders.

I'm now a mechanical engineer, which just means I now have the engineering knowledge to understand to the force transferrence patterns I saw in clients all the time. Kinesiology is the same thing as statics and dynamics.

Hopefully that helps put perspective into things. I'll update this post as new versions of the document come out. I have a ton on my plate right now (who am I joking; I always have a ton on my plate), so please be patient waiting for updates.

[goodluckclove]

A Tip for Interacting With Young Artists in Your Field: Please, be normal.

As an ex-prodigy (as adults so often described me), I cannot count the amount of times people have looked at my writing after learning my age and responded with abject amazement. Like wow, you wrote this? That's amazing! I consider people younger than me to automatically have less life experience and therefore no capability to move or challenge me through art!

That's...not a compliment? It's not a cool thing to be told that you're good for your age. Especially if you're planning to go professional at some point.

What I would've loved more than anything when I was just starting to seriously write at 15-18 was for someone to disregard my age entirely and just treat me as a colleague. Boundaries in terms of social interactions are all well and good, but when it comes to art it shouldn't matter how old you are. I'm reading works by high schoolers that exceed the quality of writing produced by MFA graduates. That doesn't mean it can't improve. We're all always improving. That just means that where you are in life has little bearing on how seriously you should be taken as a writer.

There are ways in which age plays a role in writing and in art, but from my experience that's in subject matter. What they know and what they don't. But guess what buster, that same problem applies to everyone sometimes.

Do you have a chance to interact with a young writer? Take it! Assuming you aren't a fucking creep, we have a lot to learn from a modern perspective and alternative imagination. That doesn't mean study them, just be regular. Tell them the problems with your draft and listen to theirs. Don't freak out that a teenager is having an easier time writing their WIP than you are. They have a bio test in the morning and you're probably old enough to legally drink. You're doing just fine.

Anyways, if you're a young writer reading this I have great affection for you. Try to actually listen in class and not just work on your writing. Or don't. I didn't.

[wingdingery]

Trick or treat! Happy for any treat :))))

Hello, anon!! You get… (spins the wheel) a peek in the WIP icebox!

WIPs in the icebox are old WIPs that I’m not actively working on anymore and might never post.

This is an Under the Red Hood AU where SlaDick are (waves hands vaguely) something so Dick “hires” Slade to protect Jason from Black Mask’s contract hit squad, and Jason is very confused.

__________

The thing about Jason is that he doesn’t believe in luck, or divine intervention, or good deeds going unpunished. If any of those things were real, he’s sure his life would be very different.

So when he sees another lackey of the day go down in front of him with a well-placed bullet to the knee, he follows his suspicions to the rooftop where Deathstroke the fucking Terminator is calmly packing away his gear.

“What the fuck do you want?” Jason demands.

“From you? Nothing.” Deathstroke swings his bag over his shoulder.

“You think I don’t know about the five hundred grand Black Mask put out on me?” Jason thumps his fist against his chest and spreads his arms wide. “Well, I’m right here. Come and get it.”

“Tempting,” Deathstroke says, like he’d rather lick dirt off the sidewalk. “Unfortunately, I have a better offer elsewhere, so you and your death wish will have to survive another day.”

“What kind of offer?”

“Security,” Deathstroke says. “You keep kicking; I get what I’m due.”

Jason’s nostrils flare. “I can handle myself.”

“Do I look like I care?” Deathstroke says. “I do what I’m hired for. You have a problem, you can take it up with my client.”

Jason can’t think of a single person who would give that much of a shit to keep him alive. “Who’s your client?”

“If you don’t know, that’s your problem,” Deathstroke says. “Information doesn’t come free. And the answer to that question is going to cost you much more than you can afford.”

Jason scowls. Whoever it is, they’d have to have some pretty deep pockets—some pretty deep pockets and a certain sense of morality that would exclude the first rich asshole that springs to Jason’s mind.

Well, would mostly exclude him, except…

“You get a lot of the squeamish type?” Jason says; then, at Deathstroke’s impassive stare, adds, “Seems to me like a clean headshot would be the fastest way to put ‘em down. Instead, they’re getting away with rubber fucking bullets in the leg. Wonder why.”

“Professional courtesy,” Deathstroke says. “Job’s a job. You’re not going to have many friends in the business if you go around offing your associates first chance you get.”

Jason scowls. “I’m not in it to make friends. You can keep your life advice to yourself.”

Deathstroke snorts. “Do I look like your youth group leader? If you want to die alone, that’s your business.”

Jason absolutely refuses to be shamed about his social life by Deathstroke the fucking Terminator. What the fuck is even happening.

“You’d better not be recruiting for Lex fucking Luthor.” He knows Luthor’s hired Deathstroke in the past. If this is some scheme to get him to join some secret supervillain club, he’s gonna throw a fucking riot. As much as he doesn’t want to be associated with Bruce and Dick and the fucking replacement, Luthor feels like a significant step down.

Instead of answering, Deathstroke just slugs him on the shoulder as he walks by, hard enough that Jason stumbles. “Try a bit harder to stay alive, would you? I’ve got a nice deal resting on it.”

“Well, so long as it’s helpful for you,” Jason says, but Deathstroke is already gone.

[allbluedepths]

hello it’s Saturday and thus my unofficial posting day for horny mishanks content. anyways conqueror’s haki has some Fun possibilities

look I know the majority of my WIPs involve sub!Shanks but. as a treat: mihawk having shanks using conqueror’s in the bedroom because 1) that much power on shanks is very attractive to him and 2) shanks basically makes up the entirety of the list of people he’d willingly give up that much control to, but having shanks do so is Incredibly Appealing once he gets past the instinctual “no letting guard down” reaction

shanks is actually the one more nervous about it because he’s concerned his haki will get away from him, but mihawk points out that he can just literally make it his will that mihawk will safeword if he needs it and problem solved. shanks immediately comments that he’s the brains of the relationship for a reason and is So On Board after that

(and because I cannot resist writing soft doms: shanks taking the opportunity while using conqueror’s to compliment mihawk gratuitously when mihawk can’t weasel his way out of getting full-force hit with just how much he loves him and damn near spontaneously combusts. shanks has a Lot of affirmations to get through.)