#i have like 14 of these things to do as well

[socialpermadeath]

A long winded rant about how trucking is an inherently unethical business below the cut to save your dash.

TL;DR - Being constantly on the road for hours on end with very little contact with other human beings does not do good things for the human psyche and tbh, if anyone in America right now is going to snap and do a homicide, I'm not shocked it's a trucker.

So I've got a lot of thoughts on the trucking industry. It's not good for the environment, it's not as efficient as train freight, it costs a lot to the taxpayer in the form of road maintenance because big trucks are heavy and they damage streets more than consumer vehicles.

But on top of all that, it's also pretty terrible for the people who drive it. In a lot of cases, working full time as a trucker basically means pseudo solitary confinement where you just don't get a chance to form emotional bonds with other people. You also only get paid for your hours on the road and there's no compensation for all of the time you'll spend sleeping at motels or in your truck. Which, at least to me, if I'm not home because my boss needs me somewhere else, then I'm at work. Even if I'm sleeping, the time that I have to spend not at home with my family should be paid hours. You get paid for the hours you "work" and in reality, you're only really getting a few weekends truly off work.

There's statistics out there you can find if you want the hard numbers, but compared to the average population, truckers have a significantly higher number of murderers. There's an FBI initiative to try and deal with serial murders by truckers. In my (again, personal) opinion this isn't because people who want to do murder are drawn to that profession, it's because being on the road for months at a time working 14 hour days with a 10 hour "break" that's just eating, showering and sleeping does not cultivate a balanced emotional state.

To psychologically torture these people through their labor (as well as the physical ramifications of being a trucker) and then not pay them?!?!?? You are asking to get beaten to death with a rock. You are asking for a man who hasn't been able to see his wife and kids in 4 months because of the work orders you issue him to see you as the parasite you are and to remove you from this world swiftly.

What's my solution? (Aside from doing more freight via rotating train crews.) Pay these people enough that they can afford to work half the year. Pay them what being on call 24/7 for 6 months is worth. What being away from their families that long is worth. And then expect to hire more truckers so you can rotate your crew to avoid fatigue. It will cost more because it will cost what it always should have cost to have that much skilled labor on call and working that many man-hours a week. Make sure your employees feel like you appreciate their sacrifices through financial compensation, benefits, and giving them time off to recover from their demanding jobs.

"You work three months on and three months off. You'll be paid for your time on the road and you'll also be paid a retainer for when you're on call. You and your family will have health insurance that includes dental and vision. Your children will never miss a meal, never miss an annual doctor's appointment or dental checkup because of the cost, always have new clothes and shoes for the school year. Your partner will be able to stay at home with them while you're on the road. And when the holidays roll around, your bonus will be proportional to our profits and will be befitting of the hard word you've done for us. Here's your union rep's business card. Talk to him so he can talk to me. Oh and here's a guide on how to set up Libby so you can shred through some audio books while you're on the road."

If your business cannot afford that. Budget better, I guess.

also

[contract-crawdad]

Look Outside Pacifism Concepts: Part 3

It's time for the taxidermy menagerie!

Little Helpers (Wirecutter, Needles, and Scissors)

During battle, tossing any kind of animal product to one of Taxidermy’s little helpers will cause them to snatch it up in delight, immediately ending combat. This includes obvious things like hamburger or raw pork but also extends to anything made out of leather or wool.

It seems hard at work performing taxidermy on your gift, working its viciously sharp parts in a blur of determined motion. If it notices your continued presence, it gives no indication.

Giving all of them an offering and then returning on day 14 will show the results of their work: a vaguely humanoid taxidermy figure made entirely out of the cobbled together bits you gave them.

Crow

Using pretty much any healing food in Crow’s room will cause the birds to be whipped up into a frenzy once you start the battle.

“Ah for da love a- look whatcha did! With your gotdamn snacks! Ya got em all woiked up… ahhh fuggetaboutit. Dey don’t fight woith a crap when dey’re like dis.”

You can either continue to fight Crow, who will have a heavy accuracy debuff for the rest of the battle or flee from the fight with a guaranteed success rate. At which point, Crow will not re-engage and can be spoken to.

“Dis handsome mug o’ mine? It’s all thanks to da boss! He’s great. On da one hand, he did murderize me, and I gotta say dat dat wasn’t fun. But on da otha hand, he patched me up afterwoids. Even gave me all dese boids for free. Dat’s da boss for ya… all considerate-like!”

Crow will then peacefully wander the room and is willing to trade you a Bundle of Feathers in exchange for food items to appease his birds (can only be done once per day).

Bundle of Feathers: a clump of molted bird parts. The wings still flap and the beaks still open and close. Can be used in battle to draw an enemy's attack but is too flimsy to stand up to more than one instance of damage. Inflicts disease on the enemy that breaks it.

Crocodile

If you begin the battle with Joel in your party, Crocodile will exclaim:

“Hey, little guy, the one with the teeth! Can I borrow some? Just a few molars.”

Using any of Joel's offensive teeth skills at this this point immediately ends the combat. Croc wanders about the room aimlessly and can be spoken to.

“Thanks pal. You’re a lifesaver, my reptile side loses teeth faster than I can grow them back. I’ll have my roomie stitch these onto me later. He's not a bad guy, really. Just devoted to his craft, you know?”

He then gives you an IOU note. It serves no purpose.

Limbs

If you’re missing either arm when you fight Limbs, the combat music quickly dies down and goes silent before either party can attack.

“…Oh! My mistake, it looks like dad already took the parts he wanted from you, so... ah... I guess we're cool? I’m, uhhh, not really used to having guests… want some gum? I’ve got gum.”

If you respond with ‘yes’, they will give you one stick of gum for each member of your party, causing combat to end.

“Don’t tell the others, it’d make me feel so weird if they knew, but… I don’t think I was ever a person. I’m just the spare parts dad had laying around, you know? Ah, that’s better. I had to tell somebody, just to get it off chest…s.”

Tiger

It seems the tiger is the one in control. Literally just a confused and scared animal that will not pursue you so long as you don’t get within two tile’s worth of distance and don't smell too badly.

Taxidermy

If you equip a single character with EVERY piece of the ‘leather’ set, instead of roaming hostilely, Taxidermy will be stationary and blocking the exit when you attempt to leave.

“Could it be…? Could you be another connoisseur of the leather arts? You recognize quality craftsmanship. You wear it well.”

At this point, they will allow you to ask a few questions.

> Who did you used to be?

"An amateur. A blind pedant. An insect, unaware of even my own ignorance."

> What did you do to all these people?

"Yes! Yes!! That is exactly the question I wany my work to awaken within the observer! Oh, that is very validating to hear. Thank you."

> Can I help you or them in any way?

"An artist wants for naught but two things: recognition, and... materials."

> ...Are you going to make me into 'art' too?

"Excited by the possibility, eh? I must admit, I'm thinking about it."

Once you attempt to say goodbye, Taxidermy cuts you off. There’s only one way to really tell whether you're a fan or just a thief: a quiz, of course! About their various creations.

Each question has one correct answer accompanied by two wrong answers, as well as one blatantly incorrect and very rude answer. The exception is the final question, which has no wrong answer (aside from 'Your mother.').

“What did you use to unlock my private display? I hope you appreciated the detail work; it took hours stitching actual hairs into the scalp, and even longer to find a brain that fit inside…”

> A jar.

> A taxidermy dog.

> A beautiful recreation of a human head.

> A cheap Halloween decoration.

“Which creation lacks a brain? I was as surprised as they were when they came to life.”

> Limbs

> Crocodile

> Crow

> You

“How many eyes does Crocodile have? Surely you counted each masterfully preserved eyeball.”

> One

> Three

> None

> Those were supposed to be eyes?

“How many beautiful animals decorate my foyer? minus, of course, the ones you took.”

> Seven

> Two

> (Correct answer, varies)

> Just one, and that's only if you count me.

“…Which of my creations is your favorite?”

> Crow

> Crocodile

> Limbs

> Tiger

> Your mother.

Answering incorrectly twice chases Taxidermy to fight you as normal. But choosing the purposely rude option even once causes them to immediately attack you out of fury. They’re crying, enraged, and blinded for the first three turns of combat. Additionally, they're backed up by two random creations.

Answering correctly at least three times causes Taxidermy to relent.

“As certain as I am that you would make a superb pair of jeans, it would not be right to turn my biggest fan into art.”

They will then move aside, freeing up the exit and offering to create an 'even better' version of any non-leather piece of leather gear... but only one, and it takes an entire day to complete. The resulting equipment has +5 defense, +5 ballistic defense, and +5% bonus to max HP on top of its original stats.

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

And that concludes the residents of apartment 30! I wanted to get to the frozen folks in apartment 34 in this post as well, but things just went too long, both lengthwise and timewise! They'll be the next one, and they're even mostly finished (I swear)!

Part 1

Part 2

[svnscape]

i hate u ? i love u ? (lee haechan smau)

you don’t know what’s gotten over you to make you want to major in biochem but here you are, and top of your class as well.

well, second because for some reason the cocky and corny frat boy who’s almost never sober has taken the first place from you and you don’t know how. one thing you do know is that you hate him and his whole existence and.. maybe he does too ?

an academic rivals smau : biochem major reader x biochem major haechan

GENRE: enemies to lovers, comedy, humor, angst, college au with the full experience

WARNINGS: not a single redeemable character tbh…. mark x y/n drama and backstory (it’s messy), a lot of drama and curse words, mature themes (sex, alcohol, drugs you name it), sometimes angsty (blame it on mark), big friend group (frat boys oops)

FEATURING: other nct members appearances + other groups as well (katseye, aespa)

STATUS: on going (19-5-2025)

TAGLIST: reply to be added !

a/n: well hello!! this is the first time i post a smau i hope it goes well hehe, i hope you like it i have a lot of ideas and i’ll try my best to update regularly !

profiles: quadruple threat / sigmaphi gods

1) very chalant vs nonchalant

2) party with the hags

3) who the fuck is inside (written)

4) cockblockers

5) renjun’s grumpy friend

6) oopsie daisy

7) what’s wrong with my rizz

8) i’m getting harassed by frat boys

9) she’s in enemy territory for two reasons

10) okay princess (semi written)

11) is she coming to a game with assignments?? (semi written)

12) she needs that attitude fucked off of her

13) you’re not an alpha male

14)

15)

16)

17)

18)

19)

20)

[13tinysocks]

My Dead Girlfriend

The sun shines on you once again, the past stretching behind you like a shadow. You escape one madman just to begin a search for another.

Tw: Homophobia

[Invincible Variants X Reader]

[Part one]  [Ao3]  [13] [14]

15 * Better If You Don't [5.2k]

"I feel it now,

The ghosts,

Of people who still exist but shouldn't."

Down the Drain - Sewerslvt

        "There's nothing here." He said.

        "But he said-" Tracksuit patted the walls, looking for a cartoon trapdoor on the slick cave walls. They were at a dead end miles and miles away from the central cavern. Every other path they tried re-looped back on themselves or were also dead ends. Maskless knew there couldn't be anything, he had mapped the area himself but was so hopeful, so hungry, he went along with Tracksuit, feeling fruitlessly in the dark. 

        And now he was going to die. Because it was a set-up, Phantom luring them away so he could have his way with you. He was expecting to find the fire dead and the main cavern empty. He couldn't have predicted what he walked into.

        "Jesus Christ." Tracksuit nudged Phantom's bruised ribs with his foot. "Is he alive?"

        The central cave was a wreck, the cots scattered, some floating in the water, others smoldering in the fire pit. But there was also structural damage, deep indents pressed to the floor, a Phantom shaped hole in the wall. 

        A rattling breath followed by a modulated cough told them Phantom was very much still alive. Maskless wasted no time, "What happened?"

        ***

        The cave air grew heavier every time the story was told and re-told to every Mark who turned up. Omni immediately left to scour the wastes for Scars and Lensless. Mohawk and Gray weren't far behind. Leaving Maskless and Tracksuit alone with Phantom who'd dragged himself onto a cot. He'd live, would be walking again in a few weeks. Viltrumite bone could knit itself together without medicine. Still, Maskless did his best to set the bone right and wrap it. He'd prefer Gray do the deed, but he was gone so fast there was no chance to ask. 

        Phantom was insistent, desperate, that they leave. Go look for (Y/n). But Tracksuit and Maskless didn't care enough, didn't need you to survive. If anything, the disappearance was a good thing, one less mouth to feed. Tracksuit would miss staring at your ass but it's not like he could change things. You were definitely kidnapped by those freaks and definitely dead. No more suffering, you were better off dead anyways. You got the easy way out while he had to live- one friend down because that's what you were. He pushed the feelings that thought evoked down.

        As dusk came, the trio returned, unsuccessful in finding the duo. So they laid in wait, hoping against reason they'd come to the fireside to gloat or show off your severed head. 

        "Did they also attack the ugly guy?" Tracksuit looked through the porthole, to the starless night sky. "Haven't seen him since earlier."

        Omni turned on Phantom who clutched his purple-ish chest. Never alone long enough to slip away. "Well?"

        "He-" Phantom suppressed a groan. Talking hurt. Breathing hurt. Everything hurt. But he had to sell the lie. "He tried to keep her away when they-"

        "What are we talking about?" Lensless touched down with a smile. Head swiveling, immediately noticing your disappearance. "Is she peeing?"

        Scars descended, landing beside him with a scoff, "Probably out pity fucking that ugly freak."

        The whole room seemed to go packed-gunpowder tight. Omni was in front of them both, hovering off the ground to be inches taller. "Where is she?"

        Lensless blinked. "What?"

        Omni had him by the throat. Veins popping on his forearm with the grip. "What have you done to my wife?" Lensless choked. Both hands coming up to pry his grip away. Gone before he could escape. Omni realized Lensless couldn't answer if he was dead. "Tell me, now."

        Lensless swallowed, cracked his neck, and grinned. He'd been joansing for a good fight out in the wastes and it looked like he was going to get one.

        Though he was curious, "What are you talking about?" He looked past Omni, to the others and their death glares. "Did he go apeshit while we were gone? Aw, wait, shit- did you miss us that much big guy?"

        He ducked under Omni's fist. Laughing as he threw his own punch to Omni's gut. Wondering in the moments before bloody impact, how his blood would look, how it would taste. 

        The blow was blocked by a yellow glove. "Stop, you idiot."

        Lensless looked to find Scars scowling. He considered turning the fight to him. Scars obviously thought he was the better, smarter of the two and Lensless agreed, he was sort of right, but also that he was a dick. A dick that liked the same things he did. Not quite a friend but definitely no enemy. He lowered his fist. 

        "What do you mean 'where is she'?" Scars words made Lensless remember. There was a mystery afoot. You were gone, apparently not out pissing.

        "Don't play dumb, shithead." Mohawk was by his side in a second. "You took (Y/n). Where is she?"

        The realization dawned on Scars. Something heavy and sharp twisted in his gut. A feral need pulsed behind his eyes to find your form but nowhere he looked housed you. Under the surface, he was boiling, yet he laughed in their faces. "You think I kidnapped her and came back to get my ass kicked?" He was sure he could take on most of them but Scars was no fool. He was clearly outnumbered, even with Lensless by his side.

        Mohawk hadn't considered this. It was a... good point but he wouldn't accept it, "You're trying to keep up the routine so no one suspects you or something stupid like that. Yeah?"        

        Lensless furrowed his brow. "We've literally talked about this like a billion times. We were gonna take her, hide out, use her as bait to lure you, kill you, and eat you one by one. We wouldn't be with you lames if we had her- we'd be balls deep in some hole right about now." 

        Scars glared but Lensless didn't see the point in hiding things. Clearly, their plan wasn't happening if you were gone.

        He was too busy grinning at Scars to see the fist coming for his throat. Lensless shot back, rammed into the wall. Broke through rock in a person-shaped hole foot after foot until he decided the pain was enough, it was his turn. He blasted out of the hole, teeth bared happily, fist raised. Omni waited for him but the fist was a feint. Lensless slipped behind the man and grabbed him by that stupid red cape that reminded him so much of dad. Laughed as he spun him round by the neck, stopping when he slung him into a wall. 

        Omni recovered quick, came back strong, "You-"

        "We can't get answers like this." Gray's voice stopped him. Inches away from smashing Lensless's head in. The deed would be done, once he had some answers. He didn't back down. "Our comrade saw you take (Y/n)," Gray gestured to Phantom.  "In the process you either maimed or killed the Viltrumite prisoner."

        Lensless and Scars noticed Phantom wasn't on his feet or in the air waiting to attack, but hadn't seen the sorry state he was in. Now they watched like predators, peering over Omni's broad shoulders. 

        "If I attacked that one, he'd be dead." Scars says. 

        "Well, he's not." Omni growled. "You failed in your assassination attempt."

        "Assassination what?" Lensless zipped around him, got close to Phantom as he could before Gray was in front of him. 

        "You've done enough damage," Gray says.

        Lensless tried to peek around him, but Gray kept moving in his line of sight. He only saw Phantom's condition through momentary glimpses. "Uhm, yeah, I didn't do that. Did you, dude?" 

        "No."

        Phantom rose off the cot, aching and groaning but managed to balance in the air above it.

        "Stop lying." He huffed, holding his pulsing ribs, "I heard your voices before you came up behind us. I saw you kill him and take her." He came forward, just behind Gray. Weak but needing to sell the act that he was willing to fight for revenge, for you, wrongfully taken. 

        A smile broke out across Scar's cheeks. Stretching that old wound he liked so much. "Yer lyin' through your teeth." He laughed, once, twice, before it was a full blown belly-clutching fit that infected Lensless. Phantom bristled but tried not to let it show, this was not the reaction he was expecting. 

        Not stopping until Omni asked, "What's so funny?"

        "You actually believe him?" Scars wheezed, shoulders still hitching. 

        "Has he threatened her the entire time we've been here?" Omni asked, though they all knew the answer.

        Which made Scars smile stretch impossibly more, though the eye behind the busted lens gleamed with no mirth. Only a boiling, soulless fury. "That's good, man, real smart. You're not a half-bad actor either. One lil critique though-" 

        He was fast. Faster than Gray could turn, could defend, faster than Omni could grab his cape. He had Phantom by the throat with one hand while the other tore off his mask. Showing off his pasty pretty boy face and long hair dad would hate.

         "Look me in the eyes and tell me it was me." Phantom's eyes- slate blue, Nolan blue- slid to Gray who'd come to his rescue, but paused when Scars didn't immediately rip Phantom's head off. Restraint wasn't something Gray (or any of them) associated with Scars. It gave their doubt merit.

        Scars hand squeezed around his throat with a growl. "Don't look at them, look at me." 

        He knew the punch was coming. Caught it easily. Phantom was slower than him, even slower with pain. Punishment was immediate, a flex of Scars' hand around Phantom's. The crack of thin bones. Phantom writhed, kicked, thrashed in his grip but Phantom was a limb down and weaker, way weaker than Scars. 

        "The longer you make me wait, the more of you I'm going to break." Scars said. He saw it then, the beady glint of truth in Phantom's eyes. That burning malice Scars wore on his sleeve, hidden behind Phantom's mask and silence.

        Phantom snarled, tried to headbutt him, but was again, too slow. The sound replaced with the wet snap of Phantoms forearm, bone jutting out through kevlar.

        "You-!" He caught a flash of the others, hovering behind Scars. Wondering. Untrusting. He knew he should've built better interpersonal relations. 

        "Aaannd that's time, onto your left." Scars grabbed his good arm, the one beating against his chest. Was poised to snap it clean off when a foot to his ribs send him careening off.

        Scars hit the wall while Phantom hit the ground, scrambling for his mask. To not be naked and under so many judging eyes. He could lie with the mask on, but without it he was unsure. Things were always so much easier through a barrier of fabric.

        It was about time the others realized, lying or not, Phantom was the last of them to see (Y/n) alive. 

        "Enough," Omni said over the two. "I don't care who did what. Where is my wife?"

        "I don't know." Scars and Phantom both said. Scars rose from the rubble, muscles flexing, properly pissed because hadn't these idiots figured it out by now? He wouldn't pussyfoot kidnapping (Y/n). He'd have fucked her on the cave floor and left their bloody, combined juices as a calling card. 

        "Wait." Lensless counted off on his fingers. He'd been separated from the camp for some time but he still had the chore rotation memorized. Always counting down to when he could be alone with you. "Wasn't it your turn to watch her today?" 

        Attention turned to Maskless who had already been considering fucking off before this got any worse. He wasn't scared per se, but blame could technically fall on him for Phantom getting jumped.

        Better him than me, he thought but said, "He told me he found food." Finger pointed to Tracksuit.

       Tracksuit burned his brain cells in a space-weed smoke stack daily when not trapped in a wasteland. He never finished school and when he was enrolled, he flunked almost everything. Even gym by pissing off to fuck and smoke behind the bleachers. Him having an intelligent thought was as rare as finding diamonds digging in cow shit. He felt like Einstein when he said, "Wait. Wait. The bald guy told me he found food." He pointed to the cave they'd been in, "So we went to look for food so you," one arm crossed over the other to point at Maskless, "left (Y/n) with him," his hand twisted again, pointing at Phantom, "and while we were out looking for food, all that stuff happened and like... We never found the food the bald guy said was there... So like... You know." 

        "You left!?" Mohawk barked. Ready to pounce at whoever moved first. Angry at everything. At nothing. At the fact that you weren't here. At the fact that you could be dead- again.

        "I left her with him!" Maskless gestured to Phantom. "It's not my fault they attacked!"

        "We didn't." Lensless said. 

        "And why should we believe you!?" Mohawk said.

        "I mean, you shouldn't, but I'm not lying." Lensless replied with a shrug. 

        "So he just beat the shit out of himself?" Mohawk gestured to Phantom, trying to gather himself on the ground.

        "He wasn't alone." Scars said looking to Lensless, "He had a partner. Pretty smart, trying to make it look real but," he cracked his neck, stretched out his arms, "I'd never leave a weakling like him breathing."

        He lunged.

        It was chaos from there. Scars slamming Phantom through layers of rock, breaking into and out of cave systems. Some they'd discovered some not. Omni and Gray raced after them while Lensless and Mohawk shredded the main room apart fighting each other. Leaving Maskless and Tracksuit outside of the action and not particularly looking to be a part of it.

        They shared a look across the freshly bloomed hell, and an alliance was struck. Tracksuit grabbed the rest of the Emperor meat. Maskless grabbed basins and filled them with water. They were gone as Mohawk punched Lensless through the wall, as Scars battered Phantom around, avoiding Omni and Gray's pursuit, ripping apart the caves wall by wall until the whole thing collapsed. 

        Last they checked, days later, and found the ground above the caves had sunken miles down. Everything was gone, filled with dirt. Along with everyone. Leaving Tracksuit and Maskless alone in the desert, thinking it was over, thinking they'd have to kill one another for food once they ran out of Emperor and starting starving. 

        ***

        "That's it? They're all dead then?" You sat by the fire but didn't feel the warmth. 

          It'd been hours since Maskless pulled you out and you re-met with the sun. You were in and out of consciousness as the sun crossed the sky. Sweating for the first time in days while lying still in the sand, Maskless pulling together a makeshift splint. They'd dug themselves out a camp in the concrete ruins of what used to be a skyscraper. All the windows long since smashed out, all the paint peeled away. 

        When you woke up, really woke up, you tried to get them to take you back. Take you to Mark because he needed help. Maskless covered your mouth, let you beat at him while you screamed. You punched and punched and punched and bit and kicked until exhaustion and the truth caught up with you. He didn't have to tell you but you knew. Mark was gone.

        Only when he saw that dreading acceptance cross your face did he let you go. Truce shaky. Both of them were unsure if you'd lash out. You were unsure if you should or shouldn't lash out. You wanted to make them take you back despite the obvious truth you couldn't fully grasp. You didn't see the body. The wound. Whatever that bloody thing in his hand was. You knew you should fight, make them take you but part of you was too cowardly to go back to the cave. Terrified you'd be trapped all over again. So you stayed and listened while they filled you in on the happenings of the last two weeks. Thirteen days, actually, but when Tracksuit corrected you, you looked like you were going to bite his head off.

        The two glanced at one another. Haggard looking with longer hair and growing beards. Tracksuit kept his mask on but the hair poked out the sides. He'd complained of itchiness but made no move to remove it. 

        "Not exactly." Maskless conceded. "The others are around."

        "Yeah and batshit crazy," Tracksuit added. 

        "All of them?"

        "Yes." Maskless said.

        You nodded shallowly. Watched the bugs dig in and out of the sand around your legs. They had followed you up here. Showed up when you were still unconscious, digging up from the sand and chattering quietly. Maskless was confused when you mentioned the nursery. Apparently, there were no other caves except the main one, filling with sand. They'd collapsed, the queen-fed larvae crushed. You were the only thing left that smelled like the old queen's pheromone. The bugs around you now, were the last of the species, the last thing you had to hold onto, the last pieces of Mark. 

        Some of them were de-shelled and boiling in the basin now. At some point, Maskless left to fill the bowl which had been empty for days. The duo apparently took turns while you were out, eating bugs and drinking cave water. They didn't technically need to eat more tonight but they were both still hungry and you had practice making your little friends edible.

        They didn't bring up Mark. Not after your initial outburst. 

        "We split into groups after the big fight. Kinda unanimously decided it'd be better if we all fucked off, you know?" Tracksuit said. "We've been chillin' together. Wonder Boy and that stick-up-the-ass guy are rolling. We run into 'em sometimes, leave each other alone long as we give 'em updates on if we seen you or not. Mohawk dude's on his own but all three of 'em have been lookin' for the others. Wonder Boy said those two shitheads got away. And that other guy..."

        "You agree, right? He should've been here by now."

        Thirteen days in the dark. Thirteen days of isolation, re-traumatization, light deprivation.

        "He's leaving us down here on purpose."

        Phantom never came back. Left you to rot. Left Mark to regress. Left everything to fall apart because Mark was right. He was obsessed just like the others. He who snatched you up after you killed Psychopomp, who hid you away the first night in the desert, who wanted you all to himself with no competition in the way. He gave you a tracker and ignored the emergency alert because that meant Mark was cracking up, fucking up. 

        It was Phantom's fault things had ended up like this.

        "Where is he?" You barely recognize your own voice. It was hoarse, throat raw from earlier screaming. Eyes burned, all cried out. 

        Tracksuit surprised by the intensity, asked, "The School Shooter guy?" Mohawk would be glad the name stuck.

        But you were not calling him that, "Phantom."

        Tracksuit took a hissing breath, hand going to the back of his neck. "Well... Uhm..."

        "Tell m-" Your head bowed as if weighed down by the blood rolling down your nose. Your body telling you to quit while you were ahead. Mark soaked up your power like a bloody, bloody sponge. You still smelled him on you. His blood crusted your tank top brown, dried on your skin and made it itch. 

        You felt like you were trying to walk on a boat, though you were sitting. You leaned back on your palms, trying to retain a shred of dignity. "Tell me." You croaked as the blood ran over your lip.

        Tracksuit hesitated, a little more humane. Maskless didn't care, just wanted the conversation to be over faster. "For a day or two, we didn't know if anyone else was alive. Ended up running into Wonder Boy and his sidekick but not the others. They didn't know either. Wasn't long after that the screaming started."

        "The what?"

        "Ya'know, like... screams of torture?" Tracksuit said like it was nothing. "I'm surprised you didn't hear them." Maskless shot him a look. "Oh, right. It's usually pretty quiet out here but every once in a while this guy screams loud as fuck." 

        Since his partner didn't elaborate, Maskless did, "We think it's Phantom." He felt stupid saying the name but you seemed offended by the other one. 

        "Or he's dead and those goofballs are torturing each other to death?" Tracksuit added helpfully. 

        "The others haven't intervened?" You hope Phantom was still alive. Hoped, prayed to God. You were in dire, thirsting need for revenge.

        Tracksuit shrugged. "Dunno. Every time we see 'em they only ask about you 'n food. I'm sure they know where those two are 'n sometimes it's quiet. Quiet enough you think it's over, then boom another night of distant screaming."

        "What direction is it coming from?"

        Tracksuit spluttered, splayed out his hands. "You stupid? You don't go towards tortured screaming."

        "Mark is..." You can't say it. If you say it, it'll be real. "Everything that happened is his fault."

        "Everything that... Dude, you had it made in the shade! Fuck, if I was you, I wouldn't come back up here for nothin'. Speaking of, why aren't we kickin' it down there right now? Like, what even happened, dude?" He pointed to your wrists, raw from rebar, your cheeks, blooming with bruises, "And where's that bald guy?"

        Maskless elbowed him hard in the ribs. After he'd flown you out, he returned with Tracksuit to eat and drink. By then, the falling sand had buried him completely. He didn't bring up the corpse. Thought it wouldn't help things. Knew his counterpart would be stupid and tactless.

        Thirteen days worth of memories smack you in the face so hard they shake your tearducts into working again. You raised your head, snarling a smile, thin tears streaking your cheeks. "What happened? You want to know what happened?"

        "Uh yeah, that's what I asked." But he didn't sound so confident now. Tracksuit was strong, a killer, uncaring for human and alien life. Nothing scared him, but navigating other's emotions was not a strong suit. He hadn't seen you cry no matter what crazy shit went down, didn't know why you were now. Frankly, he was a little uncomfortable and off-put by the visual as your chest started to shake with hiccuping breaths. If this was your reaction he could only imagine what had happened. "It's just a question, jeez."

        "He fucked us, that's what happened. He knew what would happen. He knew." You were starting to sound like Mark. Days ago, you'd condemn the thought, be annoyed by it but now the anger was like a mother's swaddling comfort. "We were going to work together. Make it without you assholes and he-" You don't know if you were sobbing or laughing. Felt like both. Maybe it was. "Mark was good to me. I think I could've really loved him but I-" Tracksuit leaned forward, thinking oh, this is going to be good. Maskless pulled him back while you wiped your eyes. 

        You couldn't finish the sentence. Couldn't go on. "Where is Mark?" You asked Maskless who'd taken you out, who had seen you laid beside him.

        "I buried him." He didn't need to tell you the sand did it for him. He was heartless but not cruel. 

        "That's nice of you man but like, shouldn't we eat him?" Tracksuit was ignored by you both.

        The tears came faster, hotter, running messy down your face, slipping down your nose, getting into your lips. "I want see him."

        "It's..." Maskless blinked and it was suddenly years ago. He was in front of his house, sweet and eighteen. William's car was pulled to the curb, Burger Mart for two waiting in a greasy bag in the passenger seat. Dashboard dinging, driver's side door open. Blood in the street. The neighbors screaming, running into their houses, they didn't know if wouldn't save them. 

        Dad held William by what was left of his narrow neck. The rest of him, mostly skin and some subcutaneous fat, was laid on the lawn. Mom stood in the window, hands over her mouth, tears on her cheeks. 

        "This is who you've been dating this whole time?" Nolan was planning on telling him about the murder of The Guardians soon. Pulling him to the side of Viltrum, but this expedited things. Mark wasn't supposed to be keeping secrets from him, not like this. 

        He knew Mark was a soft, funny boy by Viltrumite standards. He'd told him and Debbie months ago he thought he liked boys. Nolan could excuse it. On Viltrum, romance wasn't a thing. Unneeded. The only coupling that occurred was heterosexual for the sake of procreation. It was a foreign Earthly concept, but one he thought inconsequential. Debbie said it could be a phase, many teenagers went through them. Nolan thought he'd get a girlfriend eventually, settle down, and forget about that unproductive nonsense. Give him grandbabies that'd fight for the Viltrum Empire.

        But no. 

        He'd been dating that wispy, waste of oxygen for years behind Nolan's back. Today he'd come with flowers and a cheap drug store 'Happy Anniversary' card while Nolan was leaving the house. He was too slow to hide it, simple and human. He had tried to backtrack, lie and say it was for his girlfriend, but Nolan knew what William was. Still, Nolan beat the truth out of him. Then tore him in half for what he'd done to his son- for holding him back and making him soft even by human standards. 

        Mark threw himself at his father who let William's skinless, twitching body drop- splat- to the street. Dad won. Beat his face half in. He thought he was dead, the last thing on his mind William's puddle of a body. But his Viltrumite body wouldn't let that happen, he could come back from almost anything- as long as his heart was intact. Broken as his was. 

        In the time he was healing, the Earth was overtaken. Everything he'd known gone. Burnt and torn in the resistance. He was forced to join the empire, enforce Viltrum's rule on Earth. When Angstrom came along and offered him a way out he took it without question. 

        His eyes opened. William was dead. The planet was not cured of the Viltrum cancer. He was sitting across from some girl who was in his seventh grade science class and was crying about a bald, dead version of himself. And he thought God had a sick sense of humor.

        "...It's better if you don't." He finished.

        Your stomach churned. It was bad. Oh God, it was bad. It had hurt. He was dead and dying hurt the whole time. He didn't want to do it. He wanted to keep you safe in his twisted way and you made him do it. You killed him. Not just snap his neck or bite off his tongue but something so gruesome someone like Maskless was trying to hide it from you.

        Your hands pressed to your eyes so hard you saw stars. You couldn't stop crying.

        Tracksuit was very uncomfortable and wanted the sound to stop. He took a shot at comfort, overrated as he thought it was, "Hey, uhm. I'd kill his crazy ass if I was stuck in a cave with him too. I totally get it. You did the right thing."

        Maskless considered punching him in the throat. You only cried harder. There was no comfort or solace offered after that, but at least they let you grieve in silence.

        ***

        You don't know when you slept, only that you woke up to blistering heat even in the building's shade. Tracksuit leaned in the doorway to the desert, watching you stand and lean hard on one leg. "Took you long enough."

        You ignored him, sitting up and stretching on your own time. You saw Maskless not far behind him, also watching. Waiting for you as well. He walked over, reaching out to offer you a piece of rebar he bent to act as a crutch. 

        "The others will want to see you." He dropped the scrappy, stitched cave map at your side. They'd gone back to the main cave in the days after and found nothing but the map and stalactite stools. You'd been wearing the soldier pants and tank top when they found you, no sign of your armor or chest plate. "We might be flying awhile. You'll need to cover up from the sun."

        You didn't answer, took the cane and the fabric.

        "Wha- Hey, that's my hammock!" Tracksuit cried as you wrapped it around your head and shoulders. 

        "You'll live," Maskless said, gathering up some things before stepping out the pit and hovering above the dunes. "Come on."

        Tracksuit clicked his tongue. Wordlessly given the chore of carrying you along. He scooped you up, one bicep under your knees, the other supporting your back. You clung to him, numb and dry eyed. You could fight but you don't. Just let it happen, hot wind whipping at your face as you thought about Mark under the sand. Thought about revenge. Omni and Gray had information on Phantom, you didn't care about anything else. The trip felt short with your brooding, the wind slowing as Tracksuit lowered to the dunes. 

        You should've known it'd be a tent. Bigger than the first with more supports. Trash woven roof flattering in the sandy wind Tracksuit kicked up as he landed. "Knock, knock."

[rin-may-1103]

Got inspired, hope you don't mind.

(Also, to make things a little easier, I'm making the age gap between Tim and Damian three years. So they'll be 17 & 14.)

Cabin 18 and the Missing Kids.

Danny wasn't sure exactly what was happening, but one moment, he had been sleeping, and the next, he was being dragged out of bed, shoved into the GAV, and dropped off at some random camp with bags he hadn't noticed missing the night before.

"It'll just be two weeks, sweety!" Mom cheered, not even looking at him as she studied the device in her hands. It blinked, but not insistently enough to mean anything concerning.

"That's right, Dann-o!" Dad laughed, clapping Danny on his back, almost sending him crashing down. Grumbling, Danny tightened his grip on his bags and stared at his parents.

"Vladie's paying for all expenses, so enjoy it while you're here. said it was one of the best camps in the world!" Dad continued, ignoring Danny's obviously decreasing mood.

Granted, he had already been rather upset after getting woken up at 3 in the morning, so his parents probably just chalked it up to him being tired. (So tired; he had only just gotten to sleep, not even twenty minutes before they woke him up. Damn ghosts and not respecting sleep schedules.)

Mom patted his back with a small smile as Dad jogged back to the GAV, "I know you don't like Vlad and his schemes, and I completely agree with you, but he's trying, sweety. At least give this a chance before locking yourself in your cabin. Who knows, maybe you'll actually enjoy it here."

"Do you even know what the camps name is? or the programs schedule?" Danny asked, frowning up at her.

"Uh," she blinked, before shrugging, "didn't get a chance to look into it. Vlad kind of just told us about it last night, said it was supposed to be a surprise."

"Anyway," she continued, ruffling his hair with a tight smile, "give it a chance. We'll see you in two weeks. Love you." And with a kiss, she rushed off to the GAV and left Danny to watch as the car sped away, almost knocking a tree over in it's haist.

Turning with a sigh, Danny slowly made his way to an adult dressed in bright orange. "Check in!" the guy shouted, waving his arm over his head, clutching a clipboard in the other hand. "Check in over here!"

"Excuse me?" Danny asked, already done with the situation.

"Oh! Hello there!" the guy smiled, way too cheerfully for eight in the morning. "What's your name, kid?" he asked, already scanning the board.

"Danny," Danny huffed, squinting up at the sky. It looked like it was going to be clear and sunny today, hopefully it stays that way into the night. He might as well take the opportunity to stargaze, it'll probably be the only good thing he'd get out of this.

"Last name?" the guy asked, flipping through the pages. Just how many kids were going to be here?

"Fenton," Danny answered, watching as the man's smile grew tighter. Obviously Vlad had pissed them off then, not surprising really. The fruitloop probably made up the whole plan yesterday and Karened his way to getting Danny a spot. There goes his chance to stay under the radar.

"Right!" the guy continued, trying to not seem annoyed, "because of your... late addition, you'll be in Cabin 18. Your roommates are already unpacked and settled in, so you'll just have to deal with whatever beds are left. Sorry, kid."

He was very obviously not sorry. Time for damage control then; does he go with classic deception or outrageous lies? hmmm, probably be better off with half truths.

"That's fine, sorry about my uncle and all the trouble we've put you through. He's been trying to make up for accidentally leaving me on his private island last month. Dad probably told him I liked camping or something." Which was true, both the being left on an island and his dad's nonstop talk of going camping with just Danny, which probably gave Vlad the idea for this, now that Danny was thinking about it.

"Oh," the guy blinked, before awkwardly clearing his throat and glancing to the side. He smiled again, this time trying not to look baffled instead of annoyed. Well, being thought of as an unlucky, sympathetic rich kid was better than being the bratty rich kid.

A win's a win.

"Well," he checked off Danny's name, digging into his bag and handing over a key. "Here's your key, don't lose it. We've had to install locks after last year's incident. Only those who sleep in the cabin or camp officials have keys. So if you do lose it, please let one of us know and we'll get you another one. If you find a key, please bring it to the main office were we can store it safely."

"Cabin 18 is down that path," the guy turned and pointed, "and will be three cabins back on your left side."

Turning back, the guy gestured for Danny to start walking, "get settled in; we'll be going over the rules once everyone is here. So, around 11, head down to the cafeteria and take a seat at your numbered table. Also, don't go exploring without supervision, we don't need to send out another search party."

"Right," Danny acknowledged, walking as quickly as he could while not making it obvious he was running away.

This was going to suck.

Not only did Vlad have some new plan to probably kill Dad, but Danny would be stuck out here camping and unable to disappear long enough to deal with Vlad without anyone noticing his disappearance if the search party comment meant anything.

Amity was four and a half hours away, which he could fly, but it'd take him at least thirty minutes at his top speed to get there, then however long to fight Vlad, stop his plan, then another thirty to get back.

If they really were as stingy about the rules as he was starting to think they were, he wouldn't even get ten minutes away before someone noticed his unauthorized absence.

"Don't leave the path," some random camp leader shouted, glaring at two kids trying to sneak away through the trees. They had only gotten five feet off the dirt path before being spotted.

Shaking his head, Danny kept walking and watched the number of cabins pass by. It seemed they were being grouped in rows of six. which meant cabin 18 would be the sixth one in row three.

Coincidentally, that was the last row.

Which meant there was another eighteen cabins down the other path where all the girls had been heading. Which meant 36 cabins full of kids.

Great...

Wait, how many people fit into a cabin?

Next (to be written.)

Danny gets sent by his parents to summer camp as a surprise. Danny isn't exactly happy about it. He opens the door to his cabin and gets introduced to his two bunk mates, Damian Wanye and his older brother Tim. The two had also gotten sent to camp by surprise. In reality, they were sent undercover on a mission to investigate something odd happening in the camp. Tim expected Damian to run Danny off within a week, but that didn't happen now. The two have to work hard to keep their work under the radar while trying to act like normal teens around Danny. Danny is aware of this but doesn't care to get involved up until things get supernatural in nature

Damian and Tim: *seething with rage bc they have to room together while pretending to be normal kids and investigate something suspicious about this summer camp AND the damn kid that they’re rooming with won’t leave*

Danny: *with glowing eyes and ghost powers* Wow, people outside of Illinois are weird asf

[jamesdeanbby]

now dallas’ sister with darry…

────۶ৎ the older sibilings club

or.. eldest brother that had to take on parenting at a young age meets eldest sister that had to take on parenting at an even younger age

warnings : none!

ᐟᐟ ⟢ a/n: i love this trope wtf. keep sending requests pls.

The living room smells like antiseptic and beef stew. The TV’s humming low with some old Western nobody’s really watching, and Dallas is stretched out on the worn couch like a cat in a sunbeam—shirt half-off, bandages all over, looking like he lost a bet with a lawn mower.

You’re kneeling by him, gently taping up a cut on his ribs, and you’re doing that thing again: scolding him with your eyes. He groans like he’s being tortured.

“Oh, don’t be such a baby,” you murmur, voice all honey and vinegar. “You’ve had worse. Remember what happened with the broken bottle at the bowling alley?”

“That bottle jumped me,” Dally mutters, wincing.

“Mm-hmm. Sure it did, tough guy.”

Then—three knocks. Sharp and sure. You glance up, brow lifted.

Dally squints. “What time is it?”

“Time for you to stop picking fights, apparently,” you mutter, standing up and wiping your hands on your apron.

You open the door, expecting maybe Johnny again, or the one on the other end of Dally’s fight. Instead—

Two figures.

A tall, broad, man built like a linebacke, who’s got that squared-jaw, overworked-hands look of someone who’s never had a vacation in his life. And next to him, softer but bright-eyed, a kid. No older than 14.

“Uh,” Pony says, glancing up at Darry. “Are we—at the right place?”

You blink. Then smile, warm and sweet as honey butter.

“Well, I reckon you are, long as you’re not here to sell magazines,” you say, stepping aside. “Y’all must be Dallas’ friends.”

Darry nods, polite but cautious. “We heard he got banged up. Just came by to check.”

“Get in here,” you say with a gentle command. “He’s on the couch, being dramatic.”

Pony walks in, taking in the house—the mismatched chairs, the shelf full of old records, the pictures on the wall of a younger you holding a squirmy Dallas in your lap like a gremlin baby.

Darry follows, tipping his head. “You must be his sister.”

“Unfortunately for me,” you grin, grabbing a pair of glasses for iced tea. “I’m the only adult in his life who didn’t give up on him.”

“Oh, come on,” Dallas groans from the couch. “Not in front of the guys!”

“You hush.”

And then your eyes land on Ponyboy, sweet and golden and just awkward enough to be charming.

“And that hair?” You lift a curl from his forehead. “Lord, child, you’ve got locks like a movie star. Like an angel off the reel.”

Pony glows. Just—glows. “Aw, thank you, ma’am.”

“Hey!” Dally barks from the couch, clearly offended.

“Oh, darlin’, don’t you ‘ma’am’ me. You’re makin’ me feel like I’m thirty,” you laugh, nudging his shoulder playfully. “What’s your name, sugar?”

“Ponyboy Curtis.”

You pause. “Now that’s a name,” you say, clearly a bit surprsied.

Behind you, Darry chuckles at your reaction. It’s low, rich. You glance at him, and something hangs there for a second. Just one.

Your eyes meet.

It’s like the room tilts—quiet and slow.

Darry tilts his head slightly, watching you, something fond simmering behind that strong, stoic face. “He does have good hair,” he admits.

You smirk. “Glad someone sees it. He oughta model shampoo or somethin’. Beats what Dally’s got goin’ on.”

Darry smiles and extends a hand, you take it, he gives a firm handshake. “Darry Curtis. Thanks for patching him up. He’s a pain, but he’s our pain.”

Dally groans again. “Don’t gang up on me!”

“I didn’t start the fight,” you remind him, hands on hips. “I just ended it with hydrogen peroxide and an ice pack.”

You turn back to Ponyboy, who’s now nose-deep in a photo frame of young Dallas in a cowboy costume, clearly delighted.

“Y’all stayin’ for dinner?” you ask. “I got more stew in the pot than two stomachs can hold.”

Darry blinks. “That’s real kind, but we didn’t mean to intrude.”

“Please,” you grin. “You think Dallas eats like a civilized human when I’m not here?”

“I eat just fine!” Dally protests, his voice cracking on the last syllable like a pre-pubescent kid.

You point an accusing finger at him. “You’re a stray dog, and I’m gonna have you neutered if you keep that up.”

Ponyboy snorts with laughter, eyes wide like he’s witnessing something sacred. He practically floats to the table, watching you with reverent eyes. Darry follows slower. More careful. He keeps sneaking glances at you. You feel it.

You set down a bowl of stew in front of Ponyboy, ruffle his hair, and he glows like he’s being blessed by an angel in an apron.

“You’re too thin,” you say gently. “Eat up, sweetheart.”

“Y-Yes, ma’am—I mean—not ma’am, uuuuh—yes.”

Dally snorts. “He’s glitchin’ out.”

You shoot him a glare. “So help me, Dally, I will put you back in that cowboy costume and show your friends the photo album.”

Dead silence.

Dallas goes pale. Ponyboy gasps in delight.

Darry? Darry just watches you move through the kitchen. Confident, efficient, soft in a way he hadn’t been around in years.

“You always take care of Dallas like that?” he asks, voice low.

You glance over your shoulder. “I raised him. Someone had to.”

There was no bitterness in your voice, only fact. Even affection, the deep kind. It struck Darry with an odd kind of clarity. He’d known responsibility like that. Still lived in it.

“He listens to you,” Darry says.

You smirk. “Sometimes. When it suits him.”

“I could use someone like you at my house.”

That came out more direct than he’d intended. Ponyboy choked on his glass of water and you had to give him a few pats on the back with one hand as you put a plate down for Dally on the table with the other one.

You look at Darry—measured, thoughtful.

“Well,” you start, slowly. “If you ever need someone to knock some sense into your boys..” you trail off with a soft smile. “You know where to find me.”

Your eyes lock again. This time, you don't look away.

Silence. Then, from the couch: “I’m literally right here.”

You toss a dish towel at his head without breaking stride.

[bi-bats]

18 + jaytim for the drabble ask? or any prompt you wish you were sent!

Wow it's SUCH a good thing that I kept a note that had all the actual prompts in them 😂 Thank you for waiting so patiently for this!!! And if you're on ao3 please reply with your link so I can gift it to you! I hope you enjoy 💚

Prompt: This is without a doubt the stupidest plan you’ve ever had. Of course I’m in.

Keep reading on ao3 or below the cut:

“Okay. Our target will be entering the theater with his date sometime between 5:28 and 5:42. Research indicates that he likes to be in the theater long enough to see all the previews, and his date likes to have time to acquire snacks. I’ve seen the movie three times already, so even though the tickets say the movie starts at 6, it’s actually going to start at 6:14, and lights will go down for previews at 5:55. We’re going to enter the theater at 5:54 — question?”

“What if I want popcorn?” Jason asks, lowering his hand back down into his lap. 

Tim scoffs and rolls his eyes, turning his attention back to the map of the theater. “I’m not answering that—”

“—We’re going to sit through a two hour movie that you’ve already seen three times, I want snacks.”

Tim’s lips press into a thin line as he glares at Jason. 

Jason raises an eyebrow at him, and the standoff continues as Tim assesses his opponent.

The air between them is so tense, it’s sort of surprising that a tumbleweed doesn’t blow right through the nest. 

Tim breaks first, with a sigh and a roll of his eyes. “Fine, after a cost-benefit analysis in which the cost is adding time to buy snacks and the benefit is you not intentionally sabotaging our mission, I have determined it is in my best interest to add time for us to buy snacks.”

“The cost is also the actual snacks, you know,” Jason adds. 

Tim very graciously decides not to throw his laser pointer at him. 

“Focus up, Jason, this is a mission.” 

Jason scoffs and kicks his feet up onto the coffee table, looking incredibly bored, but he nods at Tim and redirects his attention to the map of the theater.

“We will be entering the theater at 5:54. You’re going to laugh at something I say right as the lights are going down, so that I can shush you and draw the target’s attention. Then we’re going to find our seats, which are here—” Tim points the laser at a pair of seats two rows in front of the seat with a target drawn neatly on it, “—so that he sees us, but doesn’t have time to corner us. After we sit, you’ll put your arm around me — what is it now, Jason?” Tim sighs at Jason’s raised hand. 

“Why don’t we just tell them we’re dating?” 

Jason thinks he sees Tim’s eye twitch. 

“Are you insane?” 

“Are you? Look at this fucking plan, Tim.” Jason waves a hand at the map of the theater. “You saw the Barbie movie three times for this, and you’re going to see it a fourth.” 

“This is Dick’s eleventh time seeing it.”

“He’s Dick.” 

“Yeah, but it’s worth it! And I actually think you’ll really like it too, it has excellent commentary on—”

“—Not the point, baby,” Jason interrupts, shaking his head. 

Tim scoffs, getting that tilt to his mouth that only comes out when he’s really irritated. 

“So what, you wanted to sit them all down and tell them?”

“Ugh, no!” Jason huffs. “I figured we could just, like. I don’t know. Kiss after a briefing or something.” 

Oh, Tim’s eye is definitely twitching. 

“In the Batcave. Where we can be locked in?” 

“Oh, fine, yeah. I see that, alright. After a mission, before the briefing, then?” 

“So you want to be interrogated publicly.” 

“We can run!” Jason scoffs.

“From Dick, Damian, Stephanie, Cass, Duke, Babs, and Bruce?” 

“Well, Duke might not be there, we might have a chance if—”

“—Cass.” 

In the following silence, Tim crosses his arms over his chest and raises an eyebrow at Jason. 

“Fine. Fine!” Jason sighs, “Not that. One at a time, then?” 

“You want to have the same conversation six times?” 

“Why does everyone think I hate talking about feelings?” 

“Because you do hate talking about feelings,” Tim says, looking slightly amused. 

“I value my privacy, there’s a difference. Plus, in this family, you give an inch and they take a mile.”

“Fine. Let me walk you through what happens if we don’t do my plan.”

Oh, here we go, Jason thinks as he spots that one look in Tim’s eye that he gets whenever he’s setting a trap.

“Where do you suggest we start?” 

“Oh god, Bruce last.” 

“Fine, give me the order you would want to do it in.” 

Jason tilts his head to the side for a second, before settling on: “Duke, Cass, Dick, Steph, Damian, Bruce.” 

Tim opens his mouth, a glimmer in his eyes, and Jason adds, “Actually, switch Steph and Dick.” 

If anything, that malicious look in his eyes only gets worse. 

“Okay, fine. Starting with Duke is smart. Since he has the whole ghost vision thing, he probably already knows. He’ll have some questions, and he’ll probably tease us a little, but it shouldn’t be totally unbearable, right?” 

Jason winces.

“Next, Cass. She definitely already knows, but she’s been waiting for us to tell her because either she’s being kind, or because she’s also waiting for the opportunity to tease us. But again, we can take getting teased by Cass.

“Now, switching Steph and Dick. Either way, we’ve already fallen into a trap, because Steph will be offended if we tell Dick first, and Dick will be offended if we tell Steph first, and either way, both of them will be offended that we told Duke and Cass before them. Steph already knows we were sleeping together—”

“—What?”

“Oh, yeah, I told her ages ago,” Tim says, swiping a hand through the air like he can just wave away Jason’s surprise. “So us dating probably won’t be news, strictly speaking. But she’s going to squeal and hug us and be excited and so happy for us—” he drops his voice back down from the higher pitched tone he’s been using to mock his best friend, “—until she finds out that we’ve been hiding it from her for three months, and then this is going to be an actual, physical fight.”

“No, it won’t,” Jason scoffs, kicking at the coffee table. 

“Jason,” Tim says, crossing his arms over his chest. “She hit me in the face with a brick the day we met. She is going to punch you, and it is going to hurt.”

It wouldn’t hurt that much, Jason thinks. But he knows better than to try and stop Tim now that he’s really going, so he keeps his mouth shut and lets his head fall to rest on the back of the couch.

“Now, Dick. He’s going to be so emotional. He’s going to be so happy for us he could cry, and he might, and he’s also going to be indignant that we didn’t tell him first. And once he gets past that, he is going to have a thousand questions, some of which are going to be invasive and personal and deeply uncomfortable. And he’s not going to understand that they are invasive and personal and deeply uncomfortable! It’s going to be an interrogation, Jason. One where he asks us about our sex life.”

Jason refuses to wince at that. He does sigh, if only to voice his displeasure with everything about this situation. 

Well. Everything except getting to date Tim.

That’s been pretty great.

“And if we ever escape Dick, then we’ll have Damian. He does care about us and he will find a way to shovel talk both of us, but he probably won’t care that we waited so long to tell him. He is definitely going to be mad that he was the last to know, though. Actually, no one is going to be happy about not being the first to know. But revisiting shovel talks, Bruce.”

“Hey, I’m actually dying to see the look on his face when he finds out,” Jason says, a malicious grin pulling across his face. “That vein in his forehead is going to pop out, it’ll be funny.” 

“Oh?” Tim raises an eyebrow, stepping towards the coffee table. His palms press to the table as he leans down to look Jason in the eyes. 

The whole thing would probably be as intimidating as he was going for to someone who hadn’t seen imprint of bedsheets pressed into the side of his face this morning as he tripped on the sheets getting out of bed. 

But he’s a professional, so he carries on like Jason hasn’t noticed the intimidation isn’t working. 

“It’ll be funny? It’ll be funny when Bruce handles it by telling us we need to break up because he doesn’t have any time to process what it means for us and not what it means for the mission?” 

“He’s not going to do that, Tim.” 

Tim narrows his eyes at Jason.

“Are you sure?” 

Suddenly, Jason’s throat feels a little dry. 

“Okay, fine,” he concedes. “B doesn’t always respond well to emotional situations under pressure. But he won’t demand we break up—”

“—No?” Tim interrupts. “Then what, we’ll get a lecture on how we’re endangering ourselves and each other and everyone else with our feelings?”

“We won’t—”

“Even if we don’t, you think Dick’s interrogation was going to be bad? That’ll be the warm-up for Bruce. He’ll take each of us into his office alone and ask a million questions, and if, if he approves, it’ll still be exhausting and uncomfortable and—”

“Okay, okay!” Jason stops him, putting his hands up in surrender. The motion makes that one look ripple through Tim’s eyes that he gets whenever he wins, the one that’s always a little bit of a turn on when it’s not Jason who’s lost. “You made your point. We’re not going to tell them all individually.” 

“And you still want to tell them all together? You want to handle all of those reactions at once?” 

“Not really,” Jason sighs. 

“Okay. In that case, hear my plan out: We let Dick see us on a date. He starts to suspect that it’s a date, and he follows us. We get dinner after the movie and let him follow us, and then you take me home, and we let him see us kissing through the window. He won’t interrupt because then he would have to admit he was spying on us, and he won’t want to walk in on us, but that’s key, because it gives him time to process it. And because he’s a horrible gossip, he’s going to tell everyone for us. And he’s also going to tell everyone to keep it quiet and not say anything to us, because he doesn’t want us to know it came from him. And that is going to give everyone else time to process it. And eventually Dick is going to get sick of trying to subtly ask us questions and he’s just going to blurt out a question about whether or not we’re actually dating, and we’ll say yes, and then he’ll be so smug about having ‘figured it out’ that he won’t ask half of the questions he would have if we’d sprung it on him, and by then he’ll have figured out that he doesn’t actually want to know the answers to those questions.” 

“One flaw in your plan.” 

“No, there isn’t,” Tim scoffs.

“Everyone’s going to be mad we hid it for this long anyways.” 

“But we did hide it for this long, so it’s a little too late to avoid that. And if anyone gets mad, we just tell them that we were worried that they weren’t going to accept us and that’s why we didn’t tell them, and then they’ll stop being mad because it won’t look good for them.”

“That’s kind of manipulative, Tim.” 

Tim shrugs at him. “And? Look, are you in or not?” 

“So, your plan is to let Dick see us on a date at the Barbie movie and then let him follow us home so he can see us kiss?” 

“Yes. Weren’t you listening?” 

Jason sighs and rubs his thumb and forefinger against his eyes. “This is the stupidest plan you’ve ever had—”

“—Hey!—” 

“—but yes, I’m in.” 

“That’s more like it. But for the record, it’s not stupid. It’s incredibly well thought out.” The little red dot of the laser pointer circles around the map of the theater, as if Tim’s proving his point. 

“That’s what makes this so stupid, baby. This is way too much work. You saw that movie three times for this.” 

“You’re going to want to see it again, too, Jason. I promise.” 

“Wait, wait, one last question, though.” 

Tim sighs, “Yes?” 

“We are actually going to fuck after Dick sees us kiss, right?” 

Jason ducks just in time to dodge the laser pointer soaring over his head as he cackles at Tim. 

“You’re lucky I love you,” Tim scoffs, rolling his eyes. 

The last of Jason’s laughter dies down as he fishes the laser pointer out from behind the couch and tosses it back to Tim.

“Every day, baby. Aw, don’t pout, come on. You can walk me through your plan again, if you want.”

“Fine. Now pay attention, and hold all your questions until the end, please.” 

They make it about as far in to the plan as they did last time when Jason raises his hand again. 

“Yes, Jason, what now?” Tim asks. 

Jason smirks, mischievous and playful. 

“What kind of snacks are we getting?” 

[myechoecho]

The Prisoner of Beauty, ep 14-15

THE NERVE of Wei Shao's mom blaming Xiao Qiao for getting Zheng Shu kicked out. Lady, you drugged your son. It is YOUR fault.

This Lady Yulou is going to annoy me.

Lady Yulou has already been thrown off by what she expected though. She thought she'd get to stay in the main house. She thought she could manipulate Wei Shao by going to their childhood spot and giving the grain as a gift. He was unmoved my the spot and refused the grain.

Lady Yulou is severely underestimating Xiao Qiao. And completely misunderstanding Wei Shao and Xiao Qiao's complicated relationship.

Xiao Qiao does not care that they were once engaged. She does care when she heard that they met. She was definitely a bit jealous since she snaps at him for no real reason at home.

UGH for Zheng Shu coming back. STOP BLAMING XIAO QIAO FOR THE NUMEROUS STUPID SHIT THINGS YOU DID.

The banquet scene was so good! And it's all because they have a basic trust, in particular where the people are concerned. Poison one another's family? Sure. Harm the people? Neither would do that, regardless if they were Wei or Xiao.

And he lists all the ways she's helped him and the people of Wei. She's so shocked that he defends her so ardently.

She found the bracelet and realized he got it for her to protect her when she thought she lost the original it. She now considers it token from him to her. She's not really wrong in this either.

I love the secret communication through letters to the "family"

Her smile when he returns home was everything. As is his face when she calls him darling, and she doesn't even realize that she's done it! And then he asks the advisor what he calls his wife.

Well yay for his mom doing something right for a change. But omg I cackled at the grandmother saying she knows his mom didn't steam the grains because she's too fucking stupid. The mom still didn't learn much as she basically whines about her punishment.

Lady Yulou was initially engaged to his brother?? His brother who is old enough to be his father? A middle aged father?? Lady Yulou and Wei Shao seem to be of a similar age so have no words for this.

I sort of felt bad for Wei Yan in all this since he does not feel like he is Wei nor is he from Bianzhou. Lady Yulou potentially threw him under the bus with the grain incident. I don't feel too bad for him though as I am sure he will still cause trouble.

Wei Shao is always willing to listen to Xiao Qiao's ideas about the canal. This time she's hyper aware of him as they huddle over the candle. She tries to pull away but he yanks her back. Not necessarily because he wants her close but because he cannot see the plans.

Xiao Quai does her best to reach out to Wei Yan, which is more than he deserves, tbh. She explains precisely how she and Wei Shao are working - they do not hurt the people of Wei or Xiao.

Wei Yan does seem to really love his grandmother so that's something.

[werezmastarbucks]

U N8

U N7 masterlist 3/14

word count: 5408

warnings: stalking (light), vomiting

there are so many reasons why someone may not love you. maybe they are already in love with someone else, or are currently broken-hearted and tired. maybe they are just tired of relationships or are focused on other things in life. there are other things in life except being in love, you sometimes remind yourself. no matter how it feels at night as you curl into yourself, trying to fall asleep, Yoongi is not the whole world to you.

when you drink, you get very sad and it pisses Jungkook off. he is the one with the temper. even though he is mostly calm and collected, Jungkook is easy to please and easy to anger. he cools off quickly as well. he feels deeply for his friends. he is stubborn in his belief that everything should be exactly the way he wants it, and that fate exists. he always brings up his own meeting with Yuri as an example: you clashed us heads first and it worked, didn't it? he is pissed off because he believes you're not doing enough, don't put yourself out there enough. where Jiminie wants you to move on if it makes you feel better, Jungkook is fighting with shadows to keep your dream alive.

but when he sees you so sad after you drink, even his determination crumbles a little bit.

"maybe you should date", he suggests, voice tiny, innocent, "date and fuck".

that morning he entered the studio kitchen where you were making yourself something warm to drink to soothe the throat. his boba eyes were enlarged, giving him the adorable look that has made him very, very rich.

there was palpable tension in the studio. he is the one to go and sort it out.

"Yoongi hyung thinks you're still sleeping with Jimin".

you shake your head lazily. who cares what Yoongi thinks. then his words actually catch up to you:

"still?"

"uh", he rakes his hair without confidence. "i am a bit confused. but maybe you shouldn't throw slumber parties with him so often".

"i was a mess yesterday. Jimin came out of his own volition. he was being a good friend and we fell asleep".

your hands unscrew the coffee jar, measure the granules with the spoon: mechanical, precise motions you go through almost every day. this kitchen is the place you'd protect if the Hybe building caught on fire. this is the kitchen where Jungkook gives you the warmest hugs. where Yuri hovers above you as you gossip. where Hoseok makes you try all of his disgusting new tea cocktails he prepares. where Jin chokes on food once every two days. where the Bangtan boys run to after a tough rehearsal to exhale and drink water.

"see, that's the problem, it's what it looks like..." he is trying to explain it like you're a baby. Jungkook takes the whole "y/n and Yoongi end up together one way or the other" too seriously. he's all plans and whispers, trying to keep the reputation clean, looking into the future. you burst like a vein, slamming the spoon on the countertop.

"i haven't had sex in FIVE years!"

the yell makes him open his huge eyes even more and he looks like a handsome toddler. Jungkook's lips twitch with the words he doesn't dare speak. behind the door, conversations stop.

"and i don't intend on having IT", you continue, unable to lower the volume of your voice, "until i have the MAN that i want!"

your hands repeatedly hit the countertop. Jungkook's eyes follow this gesture and he nods lightly.

"and i'm not even sure", you finally drop your voice, "that i want him anymore".

he doesn't like the way you say it. like you're giving up hope.

but in the evening, when he sees your eyes turning into the koi ponds, he says,

"maybe you should date and fuck. what if you feel better".

"maybe i should".

"the world doesn't revolve around Yoongi".

"no, it doesn't".

"i have some friends who would love to take you out".

"maybe i should date a cute guy with a monolid. do you have anybody like this?"

you barely listen to him. Jungkook nods. but nothing comes out of it, you never mention it again and he is afraid to bring it up. almost like he himself already has this perfect picture that he created in his mind, and he refuses to give up on it.

you have the most fun with the maknae. he is the propeller that spares you of any thoughts. he is the hand that grabs you by the neck and drags you to a club. you don't like clubbing a lot, but once in a blue moon, and with Jungkook, it's incredibly fun. he always takes Taehyung with him and they absorb your awkwardness, your lack of cool and your poor dancing skills. together, they are the sexy backdrop for your uneasy pacing in place. they know you're a mess in general. Taehyung can't take a lot of alcohol because he doesn't drink much. so Jungkook is, ironically, always the one who keeps an eye on both of you. he is multitalented, multifaceted. he may say something rash and stupid, but he never loses Taehyung in the crowd.

they buy you drinks until Jungkook decides that you're drunk enough, and you admire their empty chemistry. Taehyung amalgamates with him effortlessly, he takes one look at the maknae and synchronizes with him in the dance, and they are powerful together. you wonder if they've ever slept, if there was something. the longing in Taehyung's stare is evident, it's strong and soulful and he takes it like a champ. he looks like he's made his peace with things. maybe he is on the level on which you will ascend one day. he did go to Jungkook's wedding, and he didn't look sad, he looked happy. he danced, and danced, and danced, and danced with Yuri, too, and gave a great speech. for the longest time you had no idea his life belonged to Jungkook irrevocably. Jungkook manages to live with it, too, and he never feels restrained when his arms wrap around Tae's neck. they are something else, something strange, they are at the dead end. if you'd ever doubted Jungkook loves your friend, you would tell her immediately, you'd try to save her. but she is the happiest now. Jungkook has enough for everybody, even you.

they show you good time and let you be and you drink in your vip lounge and observe the people below. sometimes loud music that doesn't make sense is a little healing. throwing your body around, seeing other people staring at you like you're not invisible. you're not, in fact, invisible. sometimes you even think you're not unattractive. sometimes someone comes up to you, deathly drunk, face twisted in the expression they can't control, and touch you. Jungkook's dark arm wreathed in his personal symbols of love appears between you and removes the body, like he's your bodyguard. he doesn't say anything, just keeps you safe.

⌜oh by the way, you have got yourself a stalker, so the boys who see you often are a little nervous from time to time. one day you send a picture to your student chat that back then consists of you, Yoongi, Jiminie and Hoseok. and ask,

"which one of you idiots did this?"

once you entered the classroom you instantly saw the whiteboard bore a message to you.

"you're the hottest teacher. tutor me the tongue"

the person even drew a lewd picture of an anime-style face with the tongue sticking out with the saliva dripping like it is intending to lick you once you approach.

you're not horrified. boys don't scare you. but if it's a stupid joke, you're ready to throw hands.

Jimin has the same question, whether it's someone's disgusting joke.

Hobi sends vomiting, repulsed emojis and asks if the marker is permanent.

Yoongi says it's sexual harassment and you should report it.

after that, for weeks, there's no more disturbance and you forget to care. it doesn't bother you as much as it should because there are other things on your mind. you catch them staring at you sometimes, Jimin's nostrils flare if somebody asks about it. but it dies down eventually. there are other things to care about.⌟

like the agony that burns you, for example. Taehyung recognizes it easily and it brings him closer. closer and closer, he wants to study this agony and compare. you sit yourself into the comfortable plush couch next to the table filled with empty glasses. Jungkook burns down the dancefloor ten steps away. it's red and black around, humans and lights spin, you've drunk too much for sure. Taehyung's face is so lean it's annoying, especially in this light. his deep wild eyes staring into you with a question. is that how you feel, too? do you look so wild as well? your mouths clash and lick each other, tongues drunk, unable to even tell who's where. you kiss french style, messy and mindless, keeping hands to yourselves because you're not driven by mutual attraction. you just want to get away from this agony in the company of someone who understands, for a minute. just, just give us a minute to breathe. other happy people without broken hearts just don't get how hard, how tiring it is.

he is a good kisser. this is your first kiss in a very long while and you appreciate the technique, think about how perfect Taehyung is as a human. you appreciate his existence and he feels like Paris. Jungkook breaks it with both hands and looms above you, his huge black eyes infernal in the red:

"gross. quit it. are you kidding me?"

you vomit outside of the club and he holds your hair. Taehyung throws up back in the mens restroom and you hope it's not only because of you. Jungkook is keeping you steady in his fist and is constantly looking behind his shoulder like he wants to be in another place.

"okay?" his hand taps you on the back. you feel much better after throwing up everything that's been messing with your head. you can even stand straight.

"yeah".

"i'll go check on him".

Jungkook's love is sincere and brotherly. you find him in the mens bathroom in one of the stalls. you already have all their stuff in your hands, two handbags and their phones, as well as Taehyung's jacket.

"is he okay?"

"no".

you walk over to them and open the door. Taehyung's lying on the toilet, and Jungkook flushes it. his hand is restless, going up and down his broad back in between the shoulder blades. ever since Tae got discharged from the military, the world didn't know peace.

"is he out?"

"not yet, but he can't stand".

together, you manage to get him on his feet and, while Jungkook balances him on his shoulder, you wipe his face with a cold paper towel. Taehyung's almost asleep, feet working only half-way. Jungkook pulls him higher and props him on his back.

"you got our stuff?"

"yeah. let's go, get him outside, i'll call a taxi".

"can you stay with him though? i have to go home".

you nod. Jungkook carries him outside, his black tee wrinkled under Taehyung's weight, pulled up a little on the lower back. you pull it down carefully as you follow. Jungkook likes to produce sounds, he is very lively. he groans, moans, hums, coughs all the time. he lets people know he's there. his hand touches Tae's face when he loads him into the taxi and gets inside, too.

"breathing?"

"yeah, it's not the first time, don't worry", he grins. you are next to the driver, the city swirls in your eyes, you're still meaningfully drunk. but it's nice. you haven't thought about Yoongi for seven minutes and it feels light. you can concentrate on something else.

as Jungkook delivers Tae to the door, you open it with the key from his pocket, and bring him to the bedroom. Jungkook takes off his sneakers and throws the blanket over.

"that's it, he'll be fine. but stay here just in case".

it's nice that he rushes home, keeps looking at the time. Yuri doesn't call him forty times in one hour, she knows where he is, she knows the kind of look on Jungkook's face when he misses her. boba eyes and restless lips.

he kisses you on the cheek and runs back down to the taxi and you sit in Taehyung's bedroom for some time, paranoid, listening to his heavy breathing. then go to the bathroom and try to clean yourself.

in the morning Taehyung towers above you, hair up, puppy face pouty, eyeglasses on his nose.

"just can't stay away, can you?" he asks, but there's no animosity in his voice. it's low, rusty like he's been screaming all night. he's already showered and changed and you slept all through it. his couch is so incredibly big and comfortable it can serve as a bed.

"give me five minutes", you press your thighs together, blanket you've stolen in between, "and i'll get up".

Taehyng picks up your feet and lands on the couch, releasing them on his knees.

"did we fuck last night?"

"no".

"okay", he's relieved. you rub your face. the best moment of the morning is when you're still waking up.

"who is it then?"

"huh?"

you moan into the pillow. hangover starts creeping up on you. you've been seeing beautiful, painful dreams that split you open. they are always the same. zombie apocalypse. and everybody around you has Yoongi's eyes.

"the person you're always crying about?"

it's been four years and he still doesn't know. does he know you know? your flames definitely know but you clown around them, pretending.

"guess".

he groans and clicks his tongue, throws his head back.

"really? i vomited four times last night, by head is cracking. and you'll make me play the guessing game about who your tragic crush is?"

"you asked, you guess", you press, punching the pillow into the shape of your chin. you want to see his face. Taehyung is like an always annoyed tiger. he is the one who hates the 'who am i' game the most. but he gives in, gives you the look from behind the glasses. he is the first person around here for whom you don't feel responsible. you don't get a maternal instinct kick in like with Jungkook. you don't feel uneasy and not enough, like with Jin. don't feel the need to make him happy like with Jimin. Taehyung is his own man and he handles his shit better than he looks like he's capable to.

"it's not Jungkook, is it?"

"no. you can have him".

he smirks at the eloquent irony.

"do i... know him?"

"yes".

"do i... see him often?"

"yes".

"it's a man right?"

he's adorable, playing your little game unwillingly. it's clear you don't need to speak about the kiss. queer people like you don't tend to create extra meaning about the things that are supposed to stay pointless.

"yes".

"is it Suga hyung?"

"yes".

"you're so boring".

you kick him in the thigh. he doesn't pay attention to it. his strong tanned legs peeking out of his shorts stand firmly on the floor.

"how long are you going to go on like this?" he asks.

"i don't know. i am trying to fall out of it".

"you're really not. nobody usually is".

"clarify", you demand, like he's a voice model.

"i know i never tried to stop loving him. because it's great. and you know it feels great. i choose to keep loving him every day, and you do, too. love, even when it's unrequited, is fantastic".

he stretches and massages his neck and all sleep finally leaves you. you stretch too, pulling your arms up, and sneeze. the discomfort of somebody else's home finally hits you.

"living without love is pointless", he concludes.

Taehyung is always a little rough, a little distant. he looks like he doesn't really want to let you in. the fact that you two share this experience is not an argument to him. but Taehyung gives the best presents for your birthdays. it feels like he knows you well.

now you sit over the cold tea and look at it blindly and listen to music and gradually come to terms with it. Jungkook never returned his feelings and it happens to the best people. Taehyung has learnt to live with the rejection but you don't think you can handle it.

upon letting you out of his apartment that morning Taehyung told you to try. if you never tell him he might never even think about it. the thing is, you, too, thought it was fate. now it's so clear it isn't. this is the only piece of advice you don't follow from the wise tiger. he has no idea.

if Yoongi rejects you, you will not be able to live with it. you'll have to quit and go back home. and lose all of them, at once.

Namjoon's music always nurses you back to sanity. the lullaby melodies he produces are so soothing, they touch you in the most tender way, so lightly, that they actually help you to cope. not today. you keep thinking about how Riko's presence was so unmeaningful. nothing changed after they broke up. you meet Yoongi at the gym at ten in the evening and don't speak. it's still parallel. it seems to get better but you don't want it to. you don't want to fall into the routine, be the longing friend on the side. but it seems there's no other role for you.

"what are you listening to?" Hobi never hesitates to invade your personal space. you miss Jimin who can share his support from across the room. Hoseok sits himself down next to you, probably drawn by the tragic face you keep on. his hand puts a new mug with tea in front of you.

"new", he says. you give him an airpod.

"it's sad", he concludes after some time. he is always trying to cheer you up even though most of the time he has no idea what the problem is. he listens to music professionally, bobbing his head, staring into the desk. you actually drink the tea he's brought because you appreciate it.

"what does it mean, U N7?"

"nothing, i just hit the buttons. it's my zoning out playlist", you lie. Hoseok comments on songs quietly, his knee moves under the table. Yoongi's presence lingers in the house, you can hear him walk around now. you know his smell is floating in the room, his cologne he didn't wash off before coming here. you know his quiet sounds when he clears his throat or oinks if he bumps into furniture. the house you rent for a getaway is always different, you want to see various places.

"what are you doing?" he approaches, and your thighs tense. not seeing him, but hearing his voice, his presence. the muscles in your stomach contract.

"go away", Hoseok says sharply, "we're depressed".

"why are you depressed?"

you look up at his curious face. he's bored. he's forgotten his laptop at home and has been raging about it silently. he has nothing to do. Yoongi is in a rare mood for bothering people.

"cause we're seeing your bitch ass face here, go away", Hobi repeats. he easily gets into the sassy mood next to you, on the lessons you employ that character. Hoseok has the it-factor about him, he looks the best with curly bangs on his face and a sharp curse between his teeth.

Yoongi hisses, he knows not to take it seriously, but you can't restrain yourself from a chuckle. does everybody know? why do they seem to protect you?

Yoongi retreats to the first floor and probably starts cooking. this is the thing he does the most, feeds everybody, when it's a getaway.

there are definitely other things in life, except being in love. you just wish the love didn't outshine all of them.

it feels unfair that Yoongi has nobody to hold after he wins a Grammy.

you watch the live on your ipad at home while they are celebrating on the stage in America. Yuri is there somewhere, backstage or in the room. you have work that keeps you in Seoul. moreover, you have no reason to go with them. you can congratulate them when they return. but this curious thought pierces your mind while you wipe away the tears of pride from your face. they all look so neat, three piece suits fitted to make them look dashing, the shiny stars in the room full of fake people. a bunch of beautiful Asian boys, smiling at the room with condescending generosity, finally. you wish there was someone to hug Yoongi and hang down from his neck and tell him he deserved it. Yuri is there. you know she will tell the best things to Jungkook, one day she will propel his ego to the stars and he will start kicking the staff. Riko never really played the proud girlfriend in the backstage, you know. she is an idol herself, and she never ran into Yoongi's arms. they used to have a different dynamic. Yoongi chased her, and she always allowed him to kiss her on the chin, turning the head away. she always believed that's the right way to keep a man, and you half-heartedly agreed with her. no matter who he is, if a man sniffs despair on you, he will value you less. a woman does not cling on a man, she allows him to cling on her and thus locks him for life.

only sometimes there comes across a person who is worth sitting out a betrayal for. only one who makes you want to run into his arms and scream at him how proud you are. there is a point where the feeling deepens so much into the chasm of despair that you think you don't mind showing Yoongi how badly you want him to smile. sometimes you do things to make him smile and it works. you count those moments as losses.

they leave the stage and you take your phone to text Jimin. he has pink hair now, looks heavenly. looks like every old man in Hollywood will want to put his dick into him. the boys already reform with the Roman precision and shape themselves into an oval around him. Jimin is always the target. you can't believe the heavy awards in their hands, they almost look unreal. he doesn't even reply immediately, they probably go straight to the hotel to celebrate.

nobody replies, even Yuri. she did tell you it was okay to go, Jungkook offered it as well. he gets pissy with you a lot. 'why are you trying to ruin it for yourself? you don't need a reason to come'. something stopping you. it's not Yoongi who wants you there, it's everybody else. when they speak about it, he never looks at you. he doesn't care, respects your schedule. he has that respect for you that doesn't let him invade your space. plus, sometimes you click your teeth at him.

somewhere in Los Angeles he's having his rebound, revenge sex thinking about Riko. you imagine him texting her to tell he won a Grammy. you imagine she wants him back. imagining is all you can do while lying in your bed in Seoul and waiting for them to come back. you want them all back so desperately that it bothers you. maybe you should go out and see other people.

the room is dark. you're holding on to your elbows and listening to somebody's heavy nasal breathing next to you. Hitman Bang had sent all the members quite angry messages urging them to come to the studio asap. all seven of them think they are in trouble, Yoongi might make a scene. but once the door opens and Hobi walks in, a little distraught, puffy and pale, the room lights up and you jump up.

the cascade of sounds and light knocks into him as he stands in the door, stunned, eyes wide, and Jin is the same expression of shock behind his back. in a second the other five can be seen, walking in one by one, already with big smiles on their faces.

people approach them, form a circle, shaking hands, placing the hair clips and paper crowns onto their heads and handing them flowers. you wait for an opportunity to charge at Jimin and hop to him as he opens his arms.

"why are you crying??" Taehyung is roaring with laughter. someone's hand keeps bothering his hair and he twitches.

"i am so proud of you", you moan as Jimin's hand moves up and down your shoulder. you want to see them smile like this every day. the shine on the manknae's face should be framed and put on the wall; they are all exhausted, grey-faced, jetlagged. but so, so happy and proud of themselves that it's contagious. you muster some bravery and search for Yoongi to give him a hug; he wraps his arms around you still chuckling, and the vibration of his raspy voice enters the bones of your body. he feels like home. you usually wear the green tea perfume to work not to be too extravagant, and in a second you can already feel it on his hair. letting go of him is so hard, like your body wants to shut off suddenly, tired.

"i knew we were gonna get a surprise party", Namjoon says authoritatively, "i know we haven't fucked up".

"of course you did", Taehyung responds sarcastically. Namjoon has grown three extra feet since you saw him last. he bites his lower lip hard and smiles, containing his happiness. they feel like they are on top of the world, you can tell. the chest experiences heavy ache that's hard to keep inside. you love them so much like they are your brothers. pathetically, you have gotten bound to them in these five years, without even knowing for sure if they feel the same. they are a wholesome group of people that anybody would want to be a part of. as you watch Namjoon's hands catch Yuna, who also had stayed behind at home, you remember your regret from two days ago. she still runs into his arms, screaming. you notice a little too late that your hand still clutches the hem of Yoongi's sleeve, for a good couple of minutes. your fingers unclench and you let him go, and he pretends not to have noticed.

somebody calls your name and you peek out from the kitchen. Namjoon is at the door with a mysterious smile pulling on his lips, huge, hovering over a delivery person. you walk across the room, trying to avoid bumping into people. at the mirror, Hobi is already teaching someone new choreo. Yuri and Jungkook are kissing in the corner like they haven't been together for the last seventy-two hours. you approach them and drop a look at mischevous Namjoon.

"somebody sent you flowers".

"that can't be good".

his eyes dart back into the room and then to you.

"he wouldn't let me read the note".

you accept the bouquet hoping that no man you know had sent this garish kitsch. twenty red roses. the delivery guy walks away and you both bow your heads to read the note. you can hear Joon's breathing get caught in his throat like he choked on the words.

"you smell so fine today. i wanna lick your pussy"

he looks down like he's suddenly become dumb. he blinks once. hot wave washes over your face.

"give me this", he demands. his voice goes an octave deeper. and you pull the note off the bouquet. flowers are fine, if a little vulgar. you stop feeling scared as soon as he steps away into the crowd of celebration, taking the humiliation with him. Jin's round head peeks over the others and follows him and his clenched jaws. Namjoon's back looks angry.

you retreat back into the kitchen to look for a vase. for some reason, you want to cry. you're not offended or anything, but it pisses you off a little. who does he think he is. your hands shake a little with rage as you push away the bowl with tangerines and put the flowers on the table; you take scissors out of the drawer to sever the tips and open their stems for the water.

as you work methodically through the bouquet, the door opens again, and Joon returns together with Jin. Namjoon is on the phone, trying to escape the noise of the room. you want to tell him to drop it because fighting with the flower shop on the phone is not the thing he's supposed to be doing today. Jin's bright blue shirt is a sore in your eye.

"let me help you with these", he mumbles and takes the whole bunch of flowers off the table. he flexes his forearm muscles as he breaks them in half and dumps them into the garbage bin at your feet. you realize he is terrifyingly strong.

"flowers did nothing wrong..." you mutter but he doesn't hear you. his plump lips smack against each other and the beautiful lion steps through the goofy expression and messed up fluffy hair. he scratches his chin with three fingers and looks at Namjoon.

"it's protection? it's sexual harassment. why are you protecting the identity of someone who stalks women?"

his tongue punches the inner side of his cheek, summoning the demons for help, and then kitchen magnetizes another one. Yoongi's groomed head pokes inside and clocks the tension immediately. his dark eyes slide across you and see you've been sobbing. they then drop to the garbage bin with the rose stems sticking out, and his faces changes.

"what..."

Namjoon hands him the note without saying anything. you want to riot because you feel violated further as it travels from one set of hands to another.

"useless motherfuckers", Joon hisses as he ends the call.

"there's a chance he ordered online, in this case they don't know the identity themselves", you're trying to calm him down. Yoongi's still reading and rereading with no expression on his face.

"so, it's somebody in this room".

"or somebody who's left", Jin adds, "since we arrived people have been going".

you try imagining Yoongi otherwise locking the room from the outside and setting it on fire. it would be nice. the way his eyes harden and the lids become heavy, is nice. you never see him angry, barely ever. you feel so protected in the room with them that you fail to take anything seriously. you pray Jungkook doesn't find out about it.

you stand up to return to the party and watch people.

"take it easier. it's not a catastrophe".

once you get what you truly want - their affection, - you push back, not knowing what to do with it. it's the cursed circle of your feelings. three pairs of eyes drill into you and you want to smack them.

"it's the Grammy party. please, don't let this nonsense distract you".

"you don't seem too terrified", Yoongi notes without any admiration. they are silent, even Jin who looks at you with some distance in his eyes.

"you want me to be?"

"what if the next thing he sends will be to your house?"

you shrug.

"the sooner, the better. he kind of pisses me off. i will see him and stab him", you spread your fingers, imitating a cat, trying to lighten up the mood. it's hard to describe how fulfilling it is to see Yoongi so focused on you, completely, unblinking. his Adam's apple bobs once as he says,

"you should take it more seriously. this is not funny".

you did report the whiteboard message and got nada in return. who is going to investigate it? corporate lawyers? nobody cares. it's a funny message, take it as a compliment. in this building, a woman is violated, threatened or spooked every goddamn day. it's the industry. it's the culture. you catch glances shooting into your back that you're not supposed to register, every day. it's the dark reality.

"what do you suggest i do?" you shrug again.

"i already told Bang about it", Namjoon intervenes.

"and?"

"he said he'll look into it".

Yoongi huffs, unimpressed. you notice Jin moving his jaws: he is already eating something.

taglist: @ktownshizzle , @benyhime , @ryryvna , @amarawayne , @mar-lo-pap

[pinkkop]

This week's recap is brought to you by OG BL actors and pairings returning to our screens. We got Saint back this week and then the upcoming week we get Singto and Krist back together!! Happy and exciting days!!! 👏🎉

QL Recap for Week 20

The 12th of May to the 18th of May

🇹🇭 The Next Prince

Episode 3 of 14 || Watching on: iQiYi, Saturday

I really appreciate that you can already tell that there's something between Khanin and Charan. Like there's chemistry but it also feels like there is a clear mutual attraction. This just works really well because of course they can't act on it since there's also a bunch of other things between them such as Khanin's higher station and Charan's loyalty. This show is such a delicious meal!!

🇹🇭 Pit babe 2

Episode 3 of 13 || Watching on: iQiYi, Friday

Wait so the thing that's amplifying their powers is the research and testing they're doing in their own lab? Interesting! What I really appreciated about the first season was how they committed to the bit and this feels the same. Like I can't help but get invested in the plot because all the drama, mystery, characters and their relationships are just done so well.

🇹🇭 My Stubborn

Episode 5 of 12 || Watching on: iQiYi, Sunday

This is the best kinda crack for sure! And our four main actors work so well for this concept so I am seated every Sunday, ready for a new episode, on the dot. Sorn is so entirely delusional because what do you mean Jun isn't allowed to sleep with other people but Sorn seems to kinda still see Penny as a possible hook up. My bet is that he only really decided to go with her because she baited him and now he needs to prove to her, and maybe also himself, that Jun isn't special to him. Wouldn't be surprised if he tries to get down and dirty with her but then he simply can't go through with it because Jun is really special to him now and casual hook-ups just aren't doing it for him anymore.

🇹🇭 The Bangkok Boy

Episode 4 of 12 || Watching on: Gagaoolala, Saturday

I'm not one for trailers or reading too much up on the plot of shows unless I'm actively deciding whether I want to watch a show or not. This means that I have no idea where this show is going but I'm still so intrigued because the world within this show and it's characters are so rich and fascinating. Side-note, Mei better be safe and unharmed! This show is real dark at times so our resident psycho could have done all sorts of things to her which makes me worried.

🇹🇭 My Sweetheart Jom

Episode 1 of 12 || Watching on: Youtube, Friday

It's so good to see Saint back in a main role and after this first episode I'm also feeling excited about Poom being the other main character. Also, Granny was my absolute favorite this episode, though it's a little sad to see that Jom obviously isn't out to her. Anyways, this was a really good start to this series and I'm excited for the next episode!

🇹🇭 Knock Out

Episode 1 of 12 || Watching on: Gray, Friday

I do love a stoic character who's probably just a little socially stunted! The first episode laid a promising foundation for this show so I'm excited to see where it goes.

🇹🇭 Boys in Love

Episode 5 of 12 || Watching on: Youtube, Sunday

I would like to punt every single parent in this episode into the sun, thank you very much! The kids are still cute though even if I still feel this show is lacking in a lot of ways.

🇹🇭 Sweetheart Service

Episode 2 of 12 || Watching on: Youtube, Friday

I'm still really liking this concept but I'm finding it hard to really appreciate this show when it's airing at the same time as some shows with much higher budgets.

🇹🇭 My Golden Blood

Episode 10 of 12 || Watching on: Youtube, Wednesday

Very satisfied to see that I was almost word for word right about Khun Thara but sadly GMMTV skimped on the sound quality for this show which kinda puts a damper on any excitement, me being right about Khun Thara, might have created.

That's it for this week!!

For links and airing schedule check out World of BL (Only for BLs)

[kalied0skull]

No yeah, I'll do all these things today and I'll get so much done and— where'd the morning go. WHERE'D IT GO—

now playing: SHUT UP — BLOODHOUND GANG ♪

little kid who thinks he's tuff shit, yeah whatever that's why you eat cigarettes... loser... /aff

i don't get to talk about jeanie enough!!! I've made so many drawings of him, and yet i usually let aj take over the oc show... a moment of love for his brother in the ramble under the cut! :D

sitting at 5'3 as a 14 ½ year old is pretty embarrassing, just saying. this bad ass little kid thinks he's the absolute SHIT, and he's always trying to act a little tougher than he actually is.

it's not much better when he got adopted by a gang of hoods when he moved into Tulsa and got shoved into highschool — finding himself a little gang of even BADDER lil' kids just made him all the worse in terms of who he was influenced by.

there's a few traits i really like to giggle about when it comes to Jeanie's character:

he chews on cigarettes instead of smoking them, and he'll refuse for anyone to light his but he'll take someone elses if it's passed to him. he doesn't like to smoke because one night AJ bitched to him about how "he didn't want him getting hooked and addicted to shit like Ma," and jeanie stuck to it. so, despite already being 2 years too deep into the addiction and always finding another one in his pocket, he bites on them instead. it's become more of a stim over time, although it does make his teeth stained.

he stole his jacket off a soc at a beer blast party one night, sneaking around with one of his little friends and snatching it because 1. he was cold, and 2. he thought it'd be a cool addition to his collection. now he wears it all the time, and the soc didn't seem to miss it because he hasn't snatched it off his back yet. or noticed, for that matter. (drunk AND stupid, he got a good deal outta that soc.)

for doing the same shit (stealing and running) he earned himself a blade cut after taking money from his mom when she was in one of her "flits." (his mom was high, and having a mental breakdown. it was real bad timing.) he tries not to show it off too hard, because it's not like it has a cool story to it.

having thick curls is unfortunately one of the worst curses his mother could've given him and AJ aside from being unloved children, so no matter how much he tries to grease it like one'a them slick greasers, it'll never stick. he's like... anti-grease.

jeanie has a matching bracelet that's hidden under his jacket that matches AJ's, and jeanie's is a cool yellow. they wear each other's colors—AJ's got a red, Jeanie a yellow. it became a comfort item after dad passed, since now he knows that he still has some part of AJ with him unlike dad who didn't leave shit for them.

other than that though, there's a version of him where he's crushing hard on curly shepard and becomes semi-friends with the shepards. they have similar families, and similar problems, so they mesh well. they get each other. whether curly cares much, well... ehe.

it's all mostly in fun when talking about them, but they kept bumping into each other, and jeanie just thought curly was soooo fucking cool, that eventually curly noticed the guy was following him and just dragged him over. they get along fine, aside from the fact curly thinks jeanie is weird as shit. jeanie just thinks he's the tuffest.

jeanie's home life is mostly just him, AJ and their dog Donut. Mom's there alright, but she sure don't make herself known. after their father's passing, she hid herself away in her room and simply told AJ "figure him out yourself."

jeanie wasn't very keen on being parented by his older brother when they moved to Tulsa, but he doesn't hate AJ none. in fact, they get along real nice, he just wishes his mom would actually do something. it felt weird seeing his brother raised so well, and jeanie hardly got to 12 when he was abandoned by both of his parents. it's a weird jealousy, but at least he has someone. that's all he really needs. his brother n' his dog.

sighhh... he's my tragic little son, and i love him so dearly. expect to see more of him and AJ in the future now that i have them properly drawn out !!! i was WAITING to get this finished, but it was one of those projects i kind of forgot about .. .

i only have 3 other outsider ocs, but whether i actually get to making sheets for them is ... to be determined — the hawkins boys are my main kids right now, so.. give it time maybe hehehe

[rdthoughtdaughter]

We also cannot directly dismantle patriarchy, not really. Just because it’s not that easy and not that quick. It’s a long process. We initiate the conversations, challenge the status quo, from there stems action, protests, etc. This way, if a lot of women are vocal enough their voices will be heard, I suppose, like in the U.K now. But I think we can also apply the same logic here, female politicians, for example, have more power than general women, they can influence the law making more directly, can they not?

I didn’t mention money nor doing dishes 😵‍💫

You already have a bias in this conversation so it seems. What I meant initially by support was mostly emotional support, when your partners believes in you, encourages you to move forward, to fight. It’s very important. Traditionally expressive role is expected from women. In traditional relationships with traditional gender identities they absorb the emotions and frustrations of their family members. I believe that in true partnership it can be a mutual thing, where you can be ‘weak’, and frustrated, yet you know that you would be supported. It goes the opposite way to, you would be there for your partner, when they need you, knowing that they would do the same. We are social creatures and we often need to have support for the emotional benefit. All people are different, and for some it might be easier to have a source of motivations in themselves, but it’s not always the case. Neither is it very healthy.

I’m going to give you my definition of oppressor, no problem. Before that, no I’m not white, and I’m not sure why does it matter, to be honest. Maybe because of the dynamics in the western world, etc. but many, I’m not well aware about that. First thing first, there should be a state of imbalance of power. In our case, there is an imbalance of power between males and females, where males have supremacy and females, in comparison - inferiority. I would describe man an oppressor if he exploits the oppressed group. It can be, and I’m sure it’s for most part, with an incentive of personal gain, not caring about the way it influences the oppressed, because they don’t see them as human as they are.

Let me tell you an anecdote. Do you like drinking coffee?

“When we drink a cup of coffee we are unwittingly caught up in a complex set of social and economic relationships stretching right across the planet. Coffee links people in the wealthiest and the most impoverished parts of the world, as it is consumed mainly in the relatively rich countries but grown primarily in relatively poor ones. Around 125 million workers depend on the coffee trade to earn a living (Fairtrade Foundation 2020), but many labourers are poorly paid and live in poverty. Around half of coffee workers in Brazil have no formal contract of employment, and inspectors have found that many workers earn less than the legal minimum. Most workers are paid around R$14 (US$3.43) per 60 litre sack they pick, which can take a whole day’s labour for some women (Teixeira 2019). Some of the largest coffee companies, including Nestlé, Jacobs Douwe Egberts and Starbucks, have admitted that some of their coffee beans have been sourced from Brazilian plantations that use child and slave labour.”

Who do you think is the oppressor in this situation? Is it the companies? Or all of the drinkers, because consumers benefit from the low costs of coffee that come as a consequence to cheap labour. Hence, consumers benefit from the oppression of people in the Latin countries, like Brazil.

You know, I think we should question this even if it can trigger the feelings of the consumers, it’s not really about them, is it? But if we use the word ‘oppressor’ for both them and the companies (CEOs if you will, shareholders,etc.) than we will face a problem - the margins are getting blurred, because you cannot deny that ‘consumers’ and ‘companies’ have different impact on the ‘oppressors’.

You may replace ‘consumers’ and ‘companies’ with your own definitions.

I don’t have a cognitive dissonance. Also I can’t say that I love men, far from it. I don’t like the idea of them in our society for sure, and I don’t know about men themselves, there are 4 billions of them, give or take. I don’t know if I mentioned it earlier, but I don’t have a man. I never did and I doubt that I will, I’m just not sure that I want to enter relationships.

I entered this conversation because I saw my friend belittled for being in a relationship, I saw slurs targeted at women who are in heterosexual relationships and at women who choose to have kids, got forbid boys, as if they are Bene Gesserit who can control the sex of their children.

I do not stand for this, so I speak about it.

You can promote separatism, by all means. I support it, 4b is super cool. I just don’t think that women who are not separatists should be treated as if they are less.

Responding to some things that some radical feminists share on tumblr, the separatists in particular.

Apparently, it’s became normal to shame women in relationships, to shame women who have children.

It amazes me, truly. I personally came here with the idea of uplifting women, that we cherish and support them, but it turns out many individuals have an idea that we need to do the opposite to ‘liberate’ women.

Tell you what. We can have an overall goal of setting women free from patriarchy. Patriarchy is the system where women are treated as inferior, not being able to make decisions for themselves, while men are superior being able to decide their destiny, and women’s as well. Dismantling patriarchy is not necessarily equivalent to ‘no men’. Can’t believe I need to say that.

We are all engaging in the conversations about how socialisation is biased, how it’s fictive. How our sexes shouldn’t determine our lives. Where is this spirit when it comes to men?

They are not ‘beasts’ by nature. They choose to become horrible beings, they choose to become misogynists. If they choose those, it can mean that they can choose the opposite, to be humans, to treat women as humans.

There are many like that out there. I can say it because I witnessed it myself. It doesn’t diminish the number of men who are oppressors, because that’s the complexity of our world.

We need to acknowledge that there are ‘bad’ men and ‘good’ men. The existence of those two categories is not mutually exclusive.

The way I see it, and the way I believe radical feminism sees it, is women being able to live free of pressure brought on by the patriarchy. Having an opportunity to explore themselves and exist as human beings, no more no less. Being safe from the dangers that women now face, just because they are females.

This means, that we strive for women being able to choose, without biased external forces.

Quoting another radical feminist from radical feminist tumblr (please reach out if I’m quoting you) : it should be treated as a win if a woman, who is heterosexual finds herself in a healthy and supportive partnership.

That’s it. Women should be free to choose. Whether they choose to be in a relationship, or whether they choose to be separatists.

It is not progressive of you if you pressure women into maintaining a particular lifestyle, that only she bears the responsibility over.

If you are a radical feminist it doesn’t mean that you gain a free pass at bashing women. It means that unknowingly, or knowingly you become similar to those who oppress women.

[bugstung]

The thing with Adrien is that ML is heavily based on Spider-Man. While Maribug is obviously the MC and Gabriel is the Green Goblin, Adrien is based off of a civilian. Harry Osborn, the wealthy, kindhearted best friend, constantly trying to please everyone, whose abusive controlling father is secretly Spider-Man's archnemesis/evil narrative foil.

But they've also given him superpowers! He and Ladybug are meant to be a duo! So while Spider-Man is hitting all these beats perfectly, ML has shot themselves in the foot; Harry is very passive, that's the whole thing he struggles with. He's in denial about his dad's true nature, he loves him and doesn't want to know any more. With Chat Noir, it feels like a waste of your secondary lead.

I see what they're trying to do: The final battle ends with the Goblin dead by his own hand, and his last wish is for Spider-Man to never tell his son that he was a supervillain. He agrees, thinking the truth would utterly destroy Harry. Chat Noir is Ladybug's partner- but that's not how the story goes, so he has to be out of the picture for this. Otherwise, the next arc (S6-onward) doesn't work.

Yeah if they wanted to continue the story like they're doing (especially with those 14 seasons planned) I don't think they could have the CN / Hawkmoth reveal 🤔 like it can be done ofc, but it leaves for character development they're definitely keeping for later

But good comparison, I hadn't thought of the Osborn / Agreste parallel but it works super well, but you're right that Chat Noir feels less like the main lead and more secondary

[1-800-jewon]

What would you say your favorite moots are? I’m new to your page and website you wrote doesn’t work

Welcome person who could’ve discovered my awesomeness sooner. Also the website isn’t real, it’s just a little thing because that’s my anon name. My fave moots?? Let me see…. Anyone on the bottom is inactive.

@aduh0308 My first moot. My number one.

2. @beomiracles My number two. She gets me…

3. Mother. She and me could pass off as sisters.

4. @soobabby No one rants better than her. I just love seeing them.

5. @dawngyu I was in love from the beginning.

6. @bambiihee I read every fic, I could pass off as a stalker.

7. @biteyoubiteme Now when I say Cam is the best I have reasons….. Kai. Abs. Yeah.

8. @hyukascampfire Ash gets me, I could like a group and she likes it too. Well, Ateez that is.

9. @faeyun I was there before the new blog, sort of……. Yeah.

10. @tinycatharsis My own stalker, I’m so happy.

11. @livthelobster The freak to match a freak.

12. @lovesickchoi I LOVE YOUR FICS!! AGH!! Okay, for a new moot, I can’t say I’m not crazy for them.

13. @hencheri I have a secret love for dark stuff. I like NCT too so….. Hey why not become moots with the only one who’ll do it.

14. @yunverie I think you can tell I was trying to moot every txt writer because……. I fell fast for Yun’s writing.

15. @talkingsaxy It’s the moodboards and E’Last…..

16. @bang-chan-my-man The Stray Kids stuff……..

17. @boba-beom Come back Smiles…………. COME BACK!!

18. @xxtyongfs SOL!! I love her little thoughts.

19. @xylatox It’s the fics okay?? I just….. Can’t get enough.

20. @gyu-tori All the hate was not good. I hate all the Rei haters.

21. @tubattutu Eliza is the second freak matcher……. I miss her.

22. @farewelldevil Mae is the best, hands down.

23. @huckleberrykai BERRY COMEBACK!!!! YES!!

24. @agustdiv1ne Come back…….. I still need more fics……

25. @1w1ldtaurus What could I say…… More Stay friends.

26. @prince-jjae Jjae come back…….. I know no other Universes.

27. @agustdiv1ne When I got the follow back, I jumped in joy.

28. @nyanzzn

29. @wolfytae-exe I read her fics…. I won’t say how many.

30. @hrt4yongie

31. @bamgyw

32. @tamcitrus

In short, these are all my moots and I love them all.

[yeslikethewizard]

【 A Cat Among Wolves - Ch. 14 Update!】

LINK: Chapter 14 - the negotiations FANDOM: The Scum Villain’s Self Saving System RATING: M, full tags and content warning on A03 PAIRINGS: Shen Yuan | Shen Qingqiu/Luo Binghe, One sided SQQ’s harem hopelessly in love with him

SUMMARY:

Shen Yuan never expected to be transmigrated—who DOES expect that sort of thing!? But here he is, in the world of Proud Immortal Demon Way as some NPC demon child who is at the complete mercy of the cultivation world around him. When he runs into Luo Binghe it is like fate itself plucked him up and set Shen Yuan into the world to be with the Protagonist. Keep him safe. Make sure that Luo Binghe won’t ever have to be alone in the world.

But staying at Luo Binghe’s side will be easier said than done, even if his mysterious heritage lands him in the good graces of the Scum Villain, Shen Yuan is still a demon. One living in the middle of a cultivation sect. Not to mention that something—something darker and stronger than Shen Yuan—seems to be messing with the plot, and not changing things for the better. Like Shen Yuan didn’t already have enough on his plate to deal with.

EXCERPT:

“Can… can we see him?” Shen Yuan asks, his voice sounds hoarse.

“He is awake,” a voice interrupts Peak Lord Mu before he can answer. The woman who walked into the room before with an armful of scrolls is now standing to the side of their group—that is, Peak Lord Chu. She’s standing so that she’s almost facing away from them and looking at something on the wall next to her as she speaks, “It’s up to Mu-shixiong though.”

“Allow this master a moment to check on his patient before answering then,” Mu Qingfang says, before bidding a hasty farewell to Shen Qingqiu and Yue Qingyuan. Luo Binghe watches him go, before turning to look up at the adults in their group.

Chu Qingru has doubled down on looking at the wall—there appears to be some sort of shape that she is either genuinely fascinated with or is simply hoping to use to avoid looking at them. She isn’t leaving though, which Luo Binghe would think less noticeable if it weren’t for the palpable hostility radiating from Shen Qingqiu. The man is glaring daggers at Yue Qingyuan, who shifts from one foot to the other.

That is the leader of a sect, Luo Binghe thinks, somewhat mystified that such a powerful figurehead could so easily be cowed by his second-in-command. No, that isn’t even the right word. The poor man looks miserable. While Luo Binghe can’t help the pang of sympathy he feels for him, he reminds himself to be wary. Surely there’s a reason that She Qingqiu is acting like this regarding him right?

“Xi—” Yue Qingyuan begins, but is immediately cut off. Not by Shen Qingqiu, but by Chu Qingru instead.

“Don’t talk to him!” Chu Qingru interrupts, finally turning to stare up at the man. Her eyes skate away from him the second that Yue Qingyuan turns bewildered eyes on her. Shen Qingqiu’s expression is inscrutable—hidden as it is behind his fan. “I want to talk to him. If you do it first he’ll get angry and leave. Shen-shixiong, I want to talk to you.”

“Ah,” Yue Qingyuan says, in a tone that suggests he’s not quite sure what to think of that.

“What does shimei wish to talk to this one about?” Shen Qingqiu says, phoenix-eyes unerringly focused on Chu Qingru. The woman’s own eyes seem unable to quite look at the man, sometimes glancing at him only to look over elsewhere.

“One of those boys made this,” Chu Qingru says, pulling out the pages of Shen Yuan’s bestiary that he drew before. She barely turns her head toward them and says, “Which of you made this page?”

“Ah, that’s me,” Shen Yuan says. Chu Qingru’s lips purse.

“This master is assuming there’s a reason you’re fixated on the fact that Shen Yuan drew this?” Shen Qingqiu says, leisurely fanning himself while watching the woman.

“It’s brilliant, work well above his age. I want him for Xun Shou Peak,” Chu Qingru says.

[caffedrine]

Keith Howell Sequel 14 True Love Route - Fan Translation

If you trust me to know what I'm doing, then we have both made a huge mistake. I cannot guarantee accuracy for this fan translation, or even grammatical correctness.

Please support Cybird and pick up this event when it makes it to the English Server

I was in that same forest again.

But I immediately noticed something was different.

The sky, which had long been shrouded in thick clouds, was now letting the sun peek through for the first time in ages.

The glittering leaves swayed with a rustling melody, casting a bright glow over the scenery.

As I walked a little farther into this now sunlit forest, I was greeted by my other self—wearing a somewhat awkward expression.

—This sky...

Alter!Keith "What are you planning to do next?"

He cut in quickly, taking control of the conversation, and I gave a wry smile.

—You mean regarding our future dealings with Kuga?

Alter!Keith "Yeah. If you’re not completely oblivious, you understand, right? They basically picked a fight with us in the most blatant way."

—Though calling it a “fight” feels too kind for what it actually was.

—I learned a few things from that goodwill gathering.

Alter!Keith "Like how it was the Kuga faction that forged the three-nation alliance..."

—Yeah. And that inviting me to the event was to expose internal enemies within the faction...

Alter!Keith "And to publicly show that the Kuga King had ties strong enough to welcome a Jade royal, thereby strengthening his trust and influence."

Alter!Keith "But this time, that move backfired."

—You're talking about Prince Shiou, aren’t you?

Alter!Keith "Given the circumstances, no one could blame him for being upset."

Alter!Keith "A rising faction steadily gaining power… there's no way the ruling family could just sit back and let that happen."

—We never found decisive proof, but...

—Prince Shiou didn’t even try to hide that he was behind what happened to us.

Alter!Keith "He was confident. Without evidence, Jade would have no reason to sever diplomatic ties."

Alter!Keith "If we did, Jade would also face significant losses."

Alter!Keith "He was banking on that. That’s why he acted so boldly."

—Maybe he even had a contingency plan, in case he did provoke Jade’s wrath.

—It’s likely there's a nation backing him with strength equal to Jade.

Alter!Keith "In any case, we’ll need to be cautious with Ruby for a while."

Alter!Keith "The rise of new factions is worsening the balance of power."

Alter!Keith "It wouldn’t be surprising if a full-scale war broke out in Ruby soon."

—Whether it’s Prince Shiou who strikes first, or the Kuga King... we’re already at that tipping point.

Alter!Keith "Well, whoever wins, we’ll continue our relations with Ruby either way."

Alter!Keith "That’s what Jade’s famed neutral diplomacy is all about."

Alter!Keith "...But personally, I’m hoping the royal family doesn’t end up on top."

—Same here. Honestly, I’m still boiling inside.

—I haven’t forgiven Prince Shiou in the slightest.

Alter!Keith "Agreed. I won’t be satisfied until he gets what’s coming to him."

—Just don’t go too far.

Alter!Keith "Yeah, 'I’ll keep it within reason.'"

—You and I probably have very different definitions of "within reason."

Alter!Keith "Is that so?"

The words faded, and silence fell between us.

—By the way, is it okay if I say it now?

Alter!Keith "See ya."

—Wait, wait! That wasn’t the main point!

I hurriedly grabbed my other self before he could disappear deeper into the forest.

A gust of wind blew through, almost like a warning: Don’t come any closer.

—The sky’s so clear today, isn’t it?

Alter!Keith "Are you really going to drag me into this kind of pointless talk?"

—I’ve always wondered…

—Is this sky a reflection of your heart, or mine?

Alter!Keith "…………"

—So it really was your heart, then.

Alter!Keith "Why are you the one acting all smug about it?"

(Only one of them has a default smug sprite)

Even as he smacked me on the head, Alter!Keith’s bright smile didn’t fade. Instead, his awkward expression slowly turned to annoyance.

—You’re back to your usual self.

Alter!Keith "I just hit you on the head, that’s all."

—The atmosphere’s different.

Alter!Keith "You’re imagining things."

—Do you remember what we talked about before? That you are me, and I am you?

—So if something’s not just my imagination, I’m the one who’d know best.

—It feels like I’m finally facing the real you again.

The reflected sunlight made the world shine, and the forest, gloomy for so long, regained its warmth.

But the one who had caused that gloom still hadn’t cleared up. His gaze, uncharacteristically uneasy, dropped to the ground.

Alter!Keith "...You know this already, right? That my original purpose was to protect you."

Alter!Keith "Now, Emma’s part of that too. I’ve been trying harder than ever to protect you both."

Alter!Keith "But in the end, I just kept making the people I wanted to protect worry. What a joke I turned out to be."

Alter!Keith "..."

Alter!Keith "...Sorry."

—You don’t have anything to apologize for.

—If anything, I’ve been the one causing trouble—especially when you factor in the past.

Alter!Keith "I won’t deny that."

—Ouch. No mercy, huh?

Finally, our eyes met again, and the gentle rustling of leaves filled the space between us.

—I get how you feel.

—When you care deeply about someone, that feeling can grow so strong...

—That you start acting in extreme ways that don’t match what you really want.

—But you realized that and stepped back. That takes real strength.

Alter!Keith "...You’re usually all gloomy and fungus-like, but at your core, you’re pretty tough."

—Because I’m a weed.

Alter!Keith "If you said that seriously, then your sense of humor is hopeless."

—Of course it was a joke.

Alter!Keith "Good to hear."

—If I seem strong, it’s only because of you and Emma.

—You both believe in someone like me—just a mushroomy weed.

—So I want to believe in you too.

Alter!Keith "..."

Alter!Keith "You really have gotten cheeky, you damp little mushroom."

—Thank you.

Alter!Keith "I’ll even give you credit for your nerve."

—It means a lot, coming from you.

Compared to the beginning, the silence between us now wasn’t uncomfortable at all.

When I looked up at the sky, its clear blue stirred something warm in my chest.

—Since meeting Emma and spending time with her, we’ve come to know a happiness we never thought possible, haven’t we?

—But sometimes, that happiness feels like too much—so much that I start to wonder if it’s all going to end someday.

—I have no reason to think that, but it creeps in anyway...

—And then, I get scared.

Alter!Keith "You too, huh?"

—I think it’s something everyone feels.

—We all live our lives confronting that fear.

—No day lasts forever. Time is finite.

—And because of that...

I reached a hand up to the sky, as if to grasp the light.

—I want to make Emma even happier than she is now.

Even with Keith swiftly handling them, the endless stream of official duties showed no sign of stopping.

As for me, the days passed in a cycle of diving into my own mountain of work, only to collapse onto the bed in exhaustion. Because of that, I hadn’t been able to spend much time with Keith at all.

(…Mmm…)

(Oh no… I fell asleep first again.)

I sat up in bed during the dark hours of the night. Outside the window, the sky was speckled with stars.

(It’s still night…)

(Where’s Keith…?)

I looked beside me, but he wasn’t there. There was no warmth, either.

(Don’t tell me he’s still working…?)

(He’s overworking himself again…)

As I started to get out of bed in a hurry, I noticed the balcony door was open.

A breeze slipped in through the crack, brushing against my cheek—and beyond that, I saw a tall silhouette.

(…Keith?)

Bathed in faint moonlight, Alter!Keith stood staring up at the starry sky, completely unaware of me.

I opened my mouth to call out to him— But then slowly closed it again.

(He seems deep in thought…)

His broad back somehow looked like a wall between us.

(A lot’s happened recently…)

(I shouldn’t interrupt.)

Just as I thought that, his large frame—blended so well into the night—began to move.

(…!)

Instinctively, I pulled the sheets over myself and closed my eyes.

(I ended up pretending to be asleep…)

The balcony door shut, and his footsteps drew closer and closer.

(…Maybe I should’ve just greeted him normally…)

I could feel Alter!Keith’s breath near me, and I worried that maybe my eyelids twitched unnaturally.

It was too late to say “I was actually awake”, so I silently prayed the night would cover my bluff—

Alter!Keith “Emma.”

Suddenly, something soft pressed against my lips, cutting off my breath.

(…He’s kissing me.)

It was far too long for a simple goodnight kiss, and I could feel his lips lingering.

As if my body remembered how to receive his kiss, my mouth opened naturally—and the moment our tongues touched, I couldn’t pretend anymore.

Emma “...K-Keith…”

Alter!Keith “Oh, so you were awake?”

When I opened my eyes, Alter!Keith was kneeling by the bed, looking down at me. He didn’t look the least bit guilty. He simply shrugged, like it was all part of the plan.

Alter!Keith “I thought maybe you were having another nightmare—but I guess not.”

(His face says, “Mission accomplished.”)

Which response will you choose?

You knew, didn’t you?

I’ll get you back for that.

Thank you.

Emma “I’ll get you back for that.”

Alter!Keith “By all means.”

Alter!Keith opened his arms, all confidence and mischief. Feeling a little frustrated by his smugness, I grabbed his shirt and leaned up to kiss him—or so he thought.

Instead, I pressed my lips against his neck.

Apparently caught off guard, I felt his throat tense beneath my lips.

Emma “Surprised?”

Alter!Keith “Surprised, very surprised.”

Emma “……”

Alter!Keith “Don’t make that pouty face. It just makes me want to tease you more.”

The mischievous Alter!Keith chuckled, then leaned in to kiss me again.

It had been so long since we shared this kind of playful intimacy.

I wished it could last, even just a second longer.

(It’s strange… even though a bath couldn’t ease my exhaustion…)

We gazed at each other, letting our eyes meet and lock deeply.

Emma “...Keith, you’re amazing.”

Alter!Keith “What makes you say that?”

Emma “Just being like this with you makes my body and heart feel lighter.”

Emma “I really do need you, Keith.”

Alter!Keith “Of course you do.”

Emma “Fufu, that’s right.”

As a smile slipped out unconsciously, Keith reached out his hand.

But that hand, instead of touching me, hesitated—falling instead to rest on the sheets.

(…?)

Alter!Keith “If you don’t sleep, you won’t be able to get up tomorrow.”

Alter!Keith “Well, I’ll just wake you up again using the same method as earlier.”

(…Is something bothering him?)

It felt like a shadow passed across Keith’s expression, so I gently hooked my pinky finger around the hand that had been left adrift on the sheets.

After a brief pause—as if time itself held its breath—Alter!Keith curled his finger back around mine.

From that simple contact, I sensed hesitation, a kind of awkward uncertainty.

Alter!Keith “Your fingers are always so small, no matter when I touch them.”

Emma “And yours are… reassuringly big, Keith.”

Alter!Keith “I need them to be, if I’m going to protect you.”

Emma “Fufu, thank you. For everything.”

(Hesitation… no—maybe it’s doubt.)

(Thinking back, Keith’s touch while we were in Kōgyoku always felt… different.)

(It was like he was trying to confirm that I was still alive, or trying to give me peace of mind…)

(That kind of touch, over and over…)

(This is only a guess, but…)

(Maybe Alter!Keith no longer remembers how to reach out simply because he wants to.)

(…Or perhaps, when he tries to touch me, the fear resurfaces.)

As long as that fear lives within him, his hands might always hesitate.

It’s not as simple as me staying away—there’s no clear answer.

Alter!Keith “You’re a lot more expressive than he is, you know?”

(…He figured out I was lost in thought again.)

Emma “I thought I was being careful with my expressions…”

Alter!Keith “While making a hundred different faces?”

Emma “I… I was making that many!?”

Alter!Keith “Just kidding.”

Emma “...Keith.”

As I watched his shoulders tremble with laughter, Alter!Keith rested his head on his arm and looked up at me.

Alter!Keith “I like that about you too.”

Alter!Keith “Falling in love is such a pain. It’s difficult, it hurts… and yet, I don’t ever think, ‘I wish I never knew this feeling.’ Strange, isn’t it?”

Emma “…Are you glad you came to know it?”

Alter!Keith “If I weren’t, I’d be fast asleep right now, dreaming peacefully instead of talking to you.”

Alter!Keith “I just wanted to talk, even a little.”

(…)

The kindness and warmth in his golden eyes stirred something deep inside me.

(Alter!Keith doesn’t regret it.)

(Even if fear consumed him… he never thought, ‘I wish I’d never met her.’)

Alter!Keith “What about you?”

Emma “Of course… Of course I’m glad I got to know you.”

Alter!Keith “Haha, I knew you’d say that.”

(I am the embodiment of Keith’s fear.)

(And yet, if Keith doesn’t regret meeting me…)

(Then I want to live without regrets too—by loving Keith and the others with all I have, cherishing every moment.)

(The thing that would hurt me more than anything… is being unable to love them anymore.)

(And I’m sure that’s true for the two of them as well.)

Emma “I’m going to make Keith and the other one even happier than I am right now.”

Alter!Keith “He said the same thing, you know.”

Emma “Then it must be mutual.”

Alter!Keith “Yeah.”

Alter!Keith “...Emma.”

A little more strength enters the fingers entwined with mine.

Alter!Keith “I’ve become so dependent on you, I can’t even remember what it was like not knowing love.”

Alter!Keith “I’m hopelessly in love with you, like a fool. So… will you stay by my side, always?”

(There’s no need to even think about the answer.)

He offers a smile that blooms like the only emotion untouched by fear.

And I lean into him in return.

As if to wish for the happiness of the three of us to last forever.