#like at the very least youre getting blacklisted

[bigbagofgabriel]

if ur thinking of scabbing I want u to look up what people used to do them and think real hard about whether that's the smartest decision for your continued career and also physical wellbeing

[starryluminary]

Could you imagine your first substantial interaction with someone being an ear kiss in your sleep and yet somehow you still end up friends. That’s wild to me I don’t know about you

[liquidstar]

the goddamn show came out

[liketaylorswift]

why do so many of you have a problem with leaks lol. you literally don’t have to listen to them. as long as people are tagging them appropriately you have no reason to complain. just. don’t listen to them. do you get mad at people who talk about movie spoilers amongst themselves? even when they tag them #spoiler ? do you get mad at people who download & share unreleased songs? that’s on you babe

[nightingale-prompts]

Just your average coffee shop AU-DCxDP prompt

What do you do when you've been blacklisted from every coffee chain in Gotham?

You have to find other sources.

That is Tim's current predicament but he put out a few messages out and an informant got back to him about a new café that opened on the outskirts of the city.

There wasn't much else on it other than the fact that it was located in an old cemetery. No details or anything.

Desperate for the black icker that made up his blood by this point Tim went.

Walking down the cobblestone path Tim began to doubt if the shop was real. The decrepit tombstones seemed to be the only people here but as he passed the mausoleums he saw a single stone crypt that had a sign.

Hours:

Tues-Saturday 12pm-3:00 am

Sunday: All day

Mon: Closed

(Vlad Masters is banned)

Tim opened the stone door and heard the faint sound of violins and saxophones. A staircase led deeper to an aged wooden door.

The rusty door henge screeched as he opened the door like a doorbell. The room was a lounge with plush seats and smooth wood tables. A dance floor was in the center currently occupied by well dressed patrons. The scent of fresh dark roast coffee filled the air. A band played live music, it was a blend of gothic folk and Jazz. The booths were filled with a few patrons cheering for the performers as they drank coffee and played cards.

The counter where he could order his drink was a bar. Despite what you'd assume they weren't selling alcohol at least not yet. The man behind the counter beckoned him over.

The barista dressed in a white dress shirt and a black buttoned vest embroidered with a ribcage design. He had fingerless gloves with matching skeletal hand design. The man's face was a pale bit warm tone with a blueish green hue on his cheekbones. His lips were a dark ashen black with a subtle shine. It was probably just the aesthetic.

"Evening, traveler." His voice practically purred as he greeted the weary young man"The rhythm's alive, and the spirits are waiting—how can I make your afterlife?"

"Coffee. Black." Tim said gruffly despite to get it in his system.

"Oh, you got it bad, don't you? Let me get you something that will actually help." The bartender said turning to brew a cup.

Tim's eyes scanned the chalkboard menu that hung above the bar.

Hot Coffee Drinks:

Graveyard Brew – A rich dark roast with a hint of smoked caramel. (Tucker's pick)

Phantom Flat White – A smooth flat white with ghostly foam art. (Danny's pick)

Latté of the Damned– A spiced pumpkin latte with black cinnamon dust. (Jazz's pick)

Eternal Espresso– A bold, double-shot espresso.

The Velvet Casket – Mocha with dark chocolate and a touch of vanilla.

Sepulcher Spice – Chai-spiced coffee with a hint of nutmeg. (Val's pick)

Necromancer’s Nitro – Nitro cold brew with a dash of maple syrup. (Dan's pick)

Iced Coffee Drinks:

Cold-Brew Crypt– Smooth cold brew with a splash of sweet cream.

Chilled Cadaver– Iced coffee with coconut milk and a shot of hazelnut. (Dani's pick)

The Frosted Requiem – Blended mocha with chocolate drizzle.

Soulful Swirl– Iced latte with caramel and a swirl of blackcurrant syrup.

Moonlit Macchiato– Vanilla macchiato with activated charcoal. (Sam's pick)

Tim definitely sensed a theme here.

"I added a few shots of expresso and some dark chocolate liquor. It should get you right and some minor heart palpitations. I think I'll call it 'The Black Veil'." The barista smiled very cat-like.

"Am I getting my name on the board?" Tim quipped without thinking as he sipped the hot coffee. Actually, it was cooler than he thought it would be. It was the perfect temperature. And the taste was amazing.

"Only if you're a regular and I think your drink might be too much for anyone else." The barista laughed softly.

"So...this place is pretty um...gothic?"

"This place used to be just for the dead but we've recently over up to the living."

"Heh, I get it."

"Get what?"

Tim coughed awkwardly. He didn't want to stop talking to the goth barista yet and the quality coffee was convincing. Maybe it was the environment. It was like walking into a different world.

"So what's this place called? So I know what Im coming back to." Tim tried to sound cool but let's face it, he's been beat.

"This is the Catacomb Club. Where the spirits swing and the night never sleeps. You should come again soon, cutie. I think I got a good surge of inspiration just looking at you." He purred in delight as he leaned over the bar tapped Tim's cheek.

Tim felt his face burn, the touch felt like electricity tickling his skin. A string of babbling seemed to come out of this mouth as he tried to respond.

"Heh heh, don't keep me waiting dear," he laughed "Oh, and by the way. My name is Danny. Catch me in the early shift. My brother works the late shift mixing the alcohol. But if you want you can catch me on the stage or on the dance floor. I might even make you an extra cup or two." Danny said.

Tim found his footsteps on the way up lighter and only when he made it back the cematary gate did he notice.

He never paid.

[buddyapologist]

sry for all the txt posts but i just remembered that line from stranger things s2 where hopper is leaving a note for eleven that says "i'm not mad, i'm just sorry" and im just. fucking essay in the tags

[insertdisc5]

hihi!!! i absolutely adore isat and it inspired me to start making my own rpgmaker game, so i had a quick question for you! if you haven't talked about it before, how did you personally go about finding a publisher? im pretty early in my own development process but it just seems like a daunting thing to find one :o

i hope you have a wonderful day!!! :3

I'm so good at bideo game that they came to ME (sparkles) thanks start again a prologue for showing publishers I can do game good

Here's some advice for finding publishers tho (source: I have eyes, and I've taken classes about this):

-first, ask yourself: why do you need a publisher? Money, marketing, producing, all of the above? There are lots of options out there that aren't getting a publisher. You can just hire a producer (like my producer Dora Breckinridge <3)

-have a pitch ready!!!! you can find examples of pitches online, but I highly recommend looking at the Bear & Breakfast one for example. At the very least you should have concept art, if not mockups of what the game could look like, if not actual screenshots

-making a good pitch is art. Highly recommend having someone look it over. Rami Ismail has consultations available just for that purpose and he knows his stuff (all the advice I have comes from him! I took a great class of his a couple months ago)

-once you have a pitch ready, email it to literally every publisher out there. yes I know you're making an rpg and this publisher is only looking for platformers, but send it to them anyway. They will not blacklist you for this lol, worst case scenario is that they won't look at it.

-if you get zero answers, redo your pitch. If you get a couple, that's the ticket. Look at their offers and take the best one. Only say no to the others once you got that shit signed. If you get a BUNCH of answers, it means your idea rules and you could probably self publish it and don't need a publisher. But take one anyway if you want (especially for your first game!)

-having a vertical slice is always good for pitching, but not always needed? (AKA a slice of your game that shows off the story, gameplay, etc... aka shows you know how to do this)

-once you get a publisher contract, ASK A VIDEO GAME LAWYWR TO LOOK IT OVER. NOT JUST A LAWYER. A VIDEO GAME LAWYER. ITS YOUR BABY!!! FUCKING DO IT

-you should probably add a clause about if the publisher goes down. Reminder also that the video game industry is in shambles right now. Manage your expectations

-you can also self publish. It is a thing you can do. Patreon is here. Kickstarter is here. You have options!!! If you can't get a publisher it's not the end of the world!!!!!!

-I'm just a humble dev and those are my own humble thoughts as someone who got very lucky with their publisher. Armor Games was very good to me during the dev of isat!

[viiennie]

𝕭𝖊𝖙𝖜𝖊𝖊𝖓 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖑𝖆𝖘𝖙 𝖇𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖍

Gojo Satoru x f!reader

chapter one

Tags and warnings: Zombie Apocalypse, mentions of gore (including blood and death), slight angst (?), spoilers to ‘Happiness’, eventual smut, female reader, p in v sex, fingering, creampie, lovey dovey sex in the midst of a literal lock down, masturbation, slow burn kinda?, fluff, romance, drugs, manipulation, exhibition, gojo is a pervertttttt, mdni — 18+, enemies to lovers word count: 4093

You never thought that at the ripe age of 29, you’d be taking walks for the sole purpose of hoping to find dropped money on the road. 

Hey, You can’t be blamed now, can you? Life is completely unpredictable, and you’re just glad you at least have an apartment to sleep in and a job that pays kinda enough. But what can you do when the bills are still high, and you still got a loan to settle? Your salary barely covers your living expenses, and you’ve got those damn loan sharks to be worrying about to add to the list. 

You always thought life would go well after graduating Criminology and getting a job in the military. To top it all off, you climbed the ranks and secured a respectable position without getting your hands dirty. Back then, you lived on the tallest floor of your dream apartment and bought all your dream cars to drive and wake the neighbors with.

It was the sweetest life had gotten. 

If only you didnt—

Riiiiiing!

Your phone buzzes in your pocket, the lights flashing as the name of your boss along with the picture of a very stern looking pig pops up on screen. You sigh, staring at it and pondering if you should answer the call. Your finger hovers over the green logo, a hesitation in the twitch of your digits as you debate missing the call and getting a handful of scolding when you go to work or answering and getting the same amount of scolding for something stupid you probably did while on the job. 

Another sigh leaves your lips when you decide to answer.

“There’s a job for you. I emailed all the details to you.”

He hangs up, not even bothering to hear a response from you. 

God, he’s always like that. Acting like some VIP, treating everyone else like they were below him. Countless times have you slapped the shit out of him in your dreams, and countless times have you hurled curses at him behind his back. Why’s there always a stick up his ass anyway?

You open the pdf file in your email, groaning at the 42 pages you have to read over. 

You work as a bodyguard now, the only place that didn’t blacklist you being an executive protection services company. Your job was to make sure your clients stayed out of harm's way, and so far, it’s been an absolute piece of cake compared to your previous occupation. You just had to stand behind them, look intimidating, and keep that up for the rest of the day.

As you skim over the file, you realize that this was the typical case of a nepo baby being rebellious whilst getting neglected by their parents. It was always, ‘I just can’t seem to control my teenager’ ‘He gets out of hand and always ends up almost killing himself.’ but they have never considered the fact that they’ve barely present in their child’s life?

Your duties consisted of absurd things, like cooking and making meals for the client, ensuring he does not leave the house, and even doing the laundry. A rise of annoyance boils in you as you continue to read down your responsibilities—things that nannies would do. If they wanted to hire one then they should’ve contacted someone else, not a body guarding company. Besides, why was this task assigned to you and not someone more qualified? You don’t ever remember putting ‘experienced nanny’ in your resume. 

No. You’re not doing this. You had your pride to—

Total Salary: 15,000,000 ₩ per day.

Well, it’s not like taking care of a child is that hard right? Besides, you do these so-called duties everyday for yourself! Not like adding an extra pair of clothes to the washing machine or cooking for two would be that hard. And! you get to sleep in a million dollar penthouse for three whole days, who wouldn’t miss that offer? And the living expenses are covered by your client too? Man, the pros are really outweighing the cons right now. 

You carefully read through the pages, scanning over the personal details of your new beloved client.

Full Name: Gojo Satoru

Birthday: 1994 December 7

Age: 28

Gender: Male

You blink

Once, twice, and then thrice.

Are you seeing this right?

The person you’re going to be babysitting is in fact not a little boy, but a grown ass man at the ripe age of 28? The person you’re going to be cooking and cleaning for is a grown adult capable of doing these daily chores with all of his four limbs intact? This couldn’t possibly be right, could it? You shake your head, scrolling back to look at the delicious view of the 15 million displayed on your phone screen. So what if it was a grown man? That means you wouldn’t have to be too worried about buying toddler food and all that, right? And him being an adult means he’s perfectly capable of doing his own chores, meaning, less work for you! 

Yeah, that’s right.

Things don’t have to be negative.

You inhale, gathering your thoughts and prayers, hoping this wasn’t about to be the worst decision of your life. No way it will be. It’s just for three short days anyway. And what if you actually end up getting along well with the guy?

Day One

Standing before these grand doors bring back memories you never liked. It reminded you of what you used to be—what kind of glory you used to hold. The keys in your palms feel cold, like ice that doesn’t melt despite the warmth your skin radiates. It feels illegal entering someone’s home without knocking— it's like you’re trespassing. But what can you do when those are your instructions?

The door to the penthouse swings open, the sound echoing through the spacious hall. The moment you step inside, the air feels different—cool, fresh, like everything in this space was designed with immaculate precision. You take a second to absorb the layout: sleek, minimalistic furniture, modern art pieces hanging from the walls, soft ambient lighting, and large glass windows that offer a wonderful view of the city. It’s everything you’d expect from a man who has money to burn but little else to do with it. It’s also everything you’ve ever wanted ever since falling into this pit of poverty.

You take another step in, and the door closes behind you with a soft click—a sound that tells you you’ve just sealed your fate. You take a deep breath in, to prepare your beating heart, and exhale, reminding yourself that you’re here now, and that this is really happening. 

“Hello?” you call out, your voice carrying a bit farther than you intended in the vast silence. You wait for a response, but there’s nothing but an eerie stillness. You feel awkward in this large space, your senses used to the small cozy apartment you lived in. You feel like a misplaced object here, like a piece of banana peel in the middle of a diamond sea. 

Then, suddenly, you hear a loud thud from what sounds like the far side of the apartment, followed by a burst of laughter. It’s carefree and youthful, almost too much so for someone who’s supposed to be the CEO’s son. Your eyes narrow as you start walking further into the apartment, your boots clicking sharply against the polished floor.

"Yeah, yeah, I’m coming!" The voice calls out lazily, not even bothering to sound apologetic.

You stop in your tracks as a figure finally appears at the threshold of what you assume is the study. Satoru Gojo strides out, looking like he couldn’t care less about your presence. His white hair is slightly messy, falling carelessly over his forehead, and he’s dressed casually in a loose-fitting white shirt and black pants, the kind of outfit someone of his status might wear to keep things comfortable while still looking polished. You stare at him for a moment, noting how his playful, almost mischievous grin makes him seem like someone who hasn’t taken a single thing seriously in his life. Maybe this is why they told you to just walk in without warning. This guy didn’t even bother standing up the moment he heard someone entering his home.

“So, you’re the new babysitter?” His tone is light, amused, and you can already tell he’s not taking this job seriously at all. He doesn’t even bother to get off the couch, merely reclining with his legs sprawled out in front of him. “I thought they’d send someone with a little more... personality.”

Your lips press into a tight line, frustration rising in your chest. This was the guy you were supposed to be protecting? It was a far cry from what you had imagined. It’s okay! You expected this. I mean, the pay wouldn’t be 15 million for no reason right? All you had to do was endure this asshat for 3 days, and you’d be out, never having to do it again with the amount of money you’ll accumulate by then. 

“I’m not your babysitter, Gojo,” you reply flatly, setting the file down on the coffee table between you. “I’m here to ensure you stay out of trouble for the next three days.”

He doesn’t seem fazed, however. He tilts his head back and stretches his arms over his head with a casual ease that only someone with his kind of wealth and status could pull off. “Oh, come on, you don’t have to be so serious all the time, miss. Relax a little. This doesn’t have to be a hard job, does it?” 

You nod, a small, twitching smile on your lips. Yeah, this doesn’t have to be hard for the two of you, just don’t let yourself be absorbed into his insufferableness, and things will be all fine and dandy.

The smile on his face never fades, though there’s something in his eyes—something that makes you realize he’s enjoying the tension between you more than he should. He leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he regards you with a look that borders on teasing. “Don’t worry miss bodyguard, I’ll make sure to cooperate extra well for you,” he says, his voice oozing with mock sincerity.

Gojo’s eyes flicker with curiosity for a brief moment before his grin turns more knowing. You were far from what he expected. When his father told him he’d be hiring professionals to keep him in check, he was expecting a middle aged old grump with a tragic backstory, not an angry little kitten that was his age. 

You take a deep breath, keeping your cool. You’re a professional. You endured 4 years of brutal training, and spent the next 5 years being an active soldier, one man child isn’t gonna break you. “Where do we start?”

“Start?” Gojo repeats, his eyes twinkling with a challenge. “I’ll give you a tour of the place. Get settled in, and we’ll figure things out from there.” All of a sudden, he’s all buddy-buddy and normal, standing from his seat with a groan that tells you it’s the first time in a few long hours he’s standing from that couch.

“Okay,” you mutter, though you know the last thing you need is to be stuck following him around all day. But you have no choice now—this is the job you so happily accepted. Perhaps you just had a bad first impression, right? Maybe this is just his personality and he’s actually a nice guy under all that ego!

Gojo leads you through the penthouse with a surprising amount of enthusiasm, his movements exaggerated for your benefit. The whole time, you feel his eyes on you, like he’s analyzing you as much as you’re analyzing him. He talks non-stop, making sarcastic comments here and there, each one more annoying than the last, and you keep your responses short but interactive. Last thing you wanna hear is him whining about you being a cold person. 

When you finally arrive at the guest room, he gestures dramatically to the sleek, modern decor. “There you go. It’s not much, but it’ll do for the next ten days. I hope you like the view,” he adds, pulling back the heavy curtain to reveal a stunning view of the city skyline, one you’ve seen countless times in your dreams. 

You take a step inside, but before you can say anything, Gojo’s already made his way back to the living room. “I’ll be in my office if you need me. Don’t break anything while I’m gone.”

As you stand there, staring at the sprawling apartment, you feel a strange tension in the air. You’ve dealt with dangerous situations, but this—this was something else. This penthouse may be the safest area in the entire apartment complex, but there’s something in here that greatly unsettles you, that what’s dangerous isn’t outside of this place, but inside. Your eyes linger on the door that your manchild is behind and you finally realize how hard your heart is thumping against your chest. 

It’s Gojo.

Gojo’s the dangerous one here. 

Shaking your head, you set down your bags, neatly placing them against the door before you pull out your phone to check if there were any updates from your boss—any additional information or duties perhaps, but your notification bar is empty. (thankfully)

Ding!

Omg, have you heard about the attack at the training center?

You raise an eyebrow at the text you received from a friend that was followed by a 10 second video she sends. The thumbnail sends chills down your spine, the image of an unsettling trainee with bloodshot eyes and protruding veins being the first thing you see. He has blood dripping down his chin, his teeth stained with a deep red. There's no possible way that was real. This is probably a prank, right?

As you play the video, you realize the unmoving body in the background with blood pooling around it isn't a prank. Neither is the way the zombie thing continues to bang its head against the glass part of the door where the cameraman stands behind. You can hear people screaming in the background and the labored breathes of the person holding the camera.

What the fuck?

For this type of thing to happen in a military training center is unheard of. With the amount of security and the amount of trained professionals around, they would shoot at the sight of suspicious movement. Perhaps that trainee was infected in the facility itself?

You sigh, shaking your head. That wasn't for you to worry about. You're sure they've already taken care of the situation, making sure no one else would be harmed after one casualty. Besides, you weren't even in the military anymore, so what business did you have with all this?

You lock your phone and toss it onto the counter with a bit more force than intended, the dull clatter echoing in your quiet apartment. For a moment, you stand there, staring at the blank wall in front of you, the disturbing video replaying itself in your mind despite your best efforts to shake it off. It was none of your business, you remind yourself. You weren't a part of that world anymore—no chain of command, no classified briefings, no need to carry the weight of threats on your shoulders.

Still, the unease lingers like an itch you can't quite scratch. The image of that bloodied trainee and the helpless body in the background refuses to leave your thoughts, clawing its way into the forefront no matter how hard you try to shove it back. The screams and the clattering of rushes footsteps ring in your ears like a broken radio.

“Snap out of it,” you mutter to yourself, dragging a hand through your hair. Standing still wasn’t helping. Maybe you just needed to clear your head, step outside for a bit and distract yourself with something mundane. Groceries. That was the perfect excuse to leave this place. And besides, it would help to restock in the case that a zombie apocalypse would really break out soon.

Opening the door, you’re surprised to see Gojo sitting in the living room, manspread as he switches through the channels with a bored look on his face. His eyes glaze over to you, a grin stretches through his lips. “Out so soon? I know my face is irresistible, but you barely spent 5 minutes in there, miss bodyguard.” As soon as he opens his mouth, it’s like flies are flocking over to him. You push aside the feeling of annoyance, not wanting to waste energy on him. 

“I’m going out to buy groceries. Is there anything you want?” You sigh for the fifth time today, hand resting on the doorknob of the front door. 

“Anything sweet pleaseee” He hums sending you a wink that has you cringing before focusing back on the TV.

Nodding, you make sure the credit card provided to you is safe in your pocket before heading out. You’re greeted by a kind cleaning lady who smiles at you with fondness, “My, I didn’t know such a pretty young lady lived here!” Her voice is soft, reminding you of your grandmother whom you dearly miss. You smile back at her, feeling yourself relax in her presence, “I’m not moving in, auntie. Just staying with a friend for a few days.”

“Oh my, that’s a shame. I would have loved to see you everyday!”

You chuckle at her response, politely saying goodbye before stepping into the empty elevator. 

Whilst you were out on a grocery store run, Gojo shuts off the TV, a serious expression overturning his previously cheerful one. He was getting sick and tired of his father hiring these people to watch over him like he was a child. Being a detective was a step he took to free himself from the chains of being born into his family, a step he took to rebel against his unreasonable father, who was a businessman obsessed with continuing his legacy, he didn't expect the price he had to pay would be getting house arrested by his father in his own home with some stranger.

He hops off of the couch, walking over to your room and opening the door without a care in the world. He snoops through your things, looking through your identification cards, opening all the pockets in your bag. He’s surprised when he discovers an ID tucked away in the deepest depths of your bag, as if you didn't want to see it but kept it with you because you didn't want to let go.

​​Gojo's fingers brush against the smooth, metallic edge of the card as he pulls it out of the hidden pocket in your bag. The ID feels substantial in his hands, heavier than an ordinary card, exuding an air of authority and importance. He almost feels guilty snooping around like this.

The front of the card is dominated by a sleek, black matte finish that absorbs light, giving it a tactical, almost stealth-like appearance. At the top, bold silver letters gleam against the dark background:

“13th Special Mission Brigade”

Below that, a faint watermark of the Decapitation Unit’s insignia—a black panther—catches the light at certain angles, visible only upon close inspection. 

Your photograph occupies the upper-left corner, a stern, no-nonsense expression on your face. You wear your ceremonial full dress uniform, badges of what you've done and where you've been displayed onto the clean cloth. Next to the photo, your name is printed in capital letters, the font crisp and official: 

Y/N L/N

Lieutenant Colonel, Decapitation Unit

Beneath your name, your serial number and rank are listed in smaller, but equally precise text, alongside a QR code that has been scratched out, an occurrence that happens only if you've been discharged from duty.

The right side of the card displays the unit's motto in embossed silver script:  

Silence in Action, Swift in Justice.

Just below the motto is a small holographic seal that shifts between the South Korean flag and the emblem of the Decapitation Unit, further verifying its authenticity that Gojo was most definitely not doubting at this point. Around the edges, faintly visible microtext runs continuously, forming a border of tiny but legible words repeating:  

For honor, for country, for the safety of all.

On the back, the design is equally meticulous. The background is a faint camouflage pattern in shades of gray and black, with a magnetic stripe running across the top. Centered in bold red letters is a warning:  

AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY: This card must be presented upon request. Unauthorized use is punishable by law.

Beneath it, a small, clear rectangular panel reveals an embedded fingerprint that has also been scratched out by a blade. The rest of the back contains rows of text detailing clearance levels, blood type, and emergency contact information.

Gojo turns the card over in his hands, raising an eyebrow. "So, former Lieutenant Colonel, huh?" he murmurs to himself, a mix of admiration and suspicion flickering in his eyes. A soft chuckle escaped his lips as he slipped the card back where he found it, making sure to tuck it away with the same care. 

“Guess you’re not as simple as you seem, miss bodyguard,” he mutters, stepping out of your room. The gears in his mind are already turning, trying to piece together just how someone with your past ended up here, protecting him.

The buzzing of your phone on the bedside table catching his attention, the constant dings sending a mix of irritance and curiosity through him. Well, he’s already touched all your things, what more was a phone? He takes the phone in his hands, testing his luck by typing 12345 in. He face palms when your phone opens, wondering why a special forces agent would set a password like that on her phone. He opens the chat that’s been spamming you, skimming over the ‘y/n stop ignoring meee’ ‘i know you’re seeing this’ and the random emojis being sent. 

A video with the thumbnail equivalent to a zombie horror movie garners his attention, his finger tapping the play button without much thought, thinking he’d be watching some kind of trailer to an upcoming film. But he’s met with a gruesome sight, the same thing you had watched before leaving. His eyebrows furrowed as he tries to comprehend the scene.

Then he’s reminded of a recent case he investigated before being locked in this penthouse by his father. It was manslaughter, with the victim being the front desk worker of a motel. The crime scene was gruesome—bite marks and ripped flesh along the neck of the man. They had originally thought the perpetrator fled from the scene, but as he scanned the room, he discovered the motherfucker hiding under the bed, his mouth still dripping with blood. “I don’t remember much of what happened.” He said as they interrogated him on the scene, “I just took this drug, and before I knew it, I kinda blacked out.” 

He had originally thought it was a classic case of reckless manslaughter under the influence of illegal narcotics because the perpetrator seemed perfectly human. No bloodshot eyes and no visible veins like in the video he watched. 

Perhaps they were completely unrelated. 

He’s about to erase all evidence of him snooping around your phone until the last message your friend sends makes him pause.

‘They say he returned to normal when he was transported into the vehicle, that’s so freaky!’ 

Okay, they’re definitely related.

He puts your phone back on the table, rushing to his room where he opens his drawer and removes the hidden compartment that contained a capsule he found in the crime scene of the motel safely sealed in a tiny ziplock bag. It’s clear blue with a shine around the edges. He opens his laptop, entering the police force search engine and encoding his badge number before surfing the net for information about a blue capsule drug. 

The most similar one in appearance is a treatment drug for pneumonia called, ‘Next’. It had failed due to the fact that it was mutagenic, meaning it had the chance of mutating human DNA. 

It didn’t take a lot of brain cells to conclude that this drug was probably the cause for the odd series of events. Judging from the way an apocalypse hasn’t started and he doesn’t hear people screaming for their lives, then the military probably has this disease under control. Just when he’s about to sigh from relief, he hears a loud thud from the hallway of his apartment building, followed by three more before an eerie silence deafens him. He has half the mind to check outside, but he knows that’s probably the last thing he wants to do. The amount of horror movies he’s binge watched tells him that the first to die is always the one to check whatever’s going on.

Then his front door opens. 

“(y/n)...?” He calls out, goosebumps rising on his skin. 

“Gojo, stay in your room.”

He’s not sure why, but he’s relieved it’s you who walked through that door, and not some flesh eating monster.

a/n: first chapter outtt yaaayyyyy!!!! kinda scared for this series bc the premiere didnt get a lot of attention😞 anyway!! hope u guys enjoyed this chapter💖

taglist: @atomicweaselpaperapricot @boothillglazer

[ew-selfish-art]

Dp x DC AU: Danny didn't want to rely on his rogues, but Tucker's computer skills only got them so far and if the media black out continues... Danny knows it's not going to be pretty for them. Nightmares begin to plague the Justice League.

---

Danny gets back from a shitty conversation with Clockwork and in his frustration, accidentally sets off one of the new GIW sensors that his parents allowed to be installed in the lab. Their collaboration seemed to be going no where but when Danny had new holes blasted through him... it must be going somewhere. Damn it.

The commotion is loud enough that Jazz hears it from her room above the lab (he knows she listens to more than just the lab... it's cause she cares, even if it is a bit invasive.) and rushes in to play the distraction while Danny gets away. This time it works- the Drs. Fenton might have the worst aim in the city but they demand all shots cease if a civilian is nearby- Next time his mom might be aiming her gun at him and not the ground. Danny decides he'll buy Jazz a coffee on his way home.

But first, new holes. Yikes. That like, needs medical attention- He heads to Tucker's place and he's pretty sure Sam is already there.

"Danny! What the fuck, did Clockwork-" She starts, her meticulous cat eyeliner making her glare all the deeper.

"Nah, it's the stupid GIW sensor, the stupid one I told you guys about that has a spring lose in the back?"

"I thought we decided those weren't a concern?" Tucker looks him over, face covered in undisguised and very blatant concern.

"Yeah well, Clocky pissed me off so I forgot about them when I came back in through the lab portal-"

"you were supposed to be practicing making your own." Sam interrupts.

"-And when I did, the thing got knocked and I was swatted like immediately. Jazz launched herself into the lab so Mom made them stop shooting and it gave me enough time to get out." Danny continued to explain, ignoring his friend's 'i told you so' faces.

"Dude. We're pushing it close this week. Sam already had a confrontation with the lab guys and I already got blacklisted on my new persona accounts. We're like seriously threading the needle for getting caught." Tucker, pulls his glasses down to pinch the bridge of his nose and Danny and Sam both get what he's really saying. They need to lie low.

"What did CW say to piss you off?" Sam asks after a silent moment.

"He said nothing really, just like he always does, but insinuated I should try getting a rogue to help." Danny sighs.

"What, Like getting Ember to announce the GIW invasion on her tour? We already agreed that-" Sam is getting angry as she speaks so Tuck cuts her off- "It's a bad Idea. She is- They are all just as likely to get captured and hurt as you are if you go out of town." He comes to the same conclusion they've agreed on for weeks. No rogue involvement.

"Maybe we just need to sleep on it... Hey... wait." Danny sighs, but then his gears start to turn.

"Nocturn. We need Nocturn to help us. He can get the message out through dreams." Danny comes to the new conclusion and his friends look hesitant but at least like they're considering it.

"Isn't he an ancient? He's not going to help us for free." Tucker, ever the Egyptian god in these moments.

"Most people don't take their dreams literally." Sam, ever the skeptic in these moments.

"Yeah but, if they dream it enough times, and they're the right people to do something... they can look it up and then at least see that there is a problem?" Danny sounds hopeful and its the first time he's sounded that way in months.

"What, you're gunna give Batman nightmares?" Tucker snickers but Sam looks inspired.

"That's exactly what he's going to do. We need to haunt the Justice League. They'll see past the fake facade the GIW put up online and they'll be able to get the right legislation passed." Sam is practically buzzing.

"Okay, so lets get scheming- What do you get the primordial beast of the unconscious? Should I google 'what to get someone who has everything'? " Danny laughs.

_____

Bruce and his children rarely do feelings when they have breakfast in the morning after a night of separate patrols, but it seems as though the room is plagued with unease. Tim looks about as tired as ever, so his unease is probably attributable to WE board meetings, but its unlike the rest of his children to be so... disturbed. For some reason, after Alfred has excused them all from eating more than a few nibbles, they make it to the cave. Bruce is glad for the noise his children bring.

The nightmare's he's been having are following a dark plot. A town, a boy who looks like he was kin, and so, so much death. Bruce has had vivid dreams before in life, but this nightmare is... unreal. He tries to remind himself that it's just a nightmare.

When his JL emergency communicator goes off at the computer desk, he's not expecting it to be Dinah Lance. She and her Birds are typically wary of him in Gotham, even if they work well together in the League. He answers it like he would any Batman call, with silence.

"Bats, we have a problem. Any chance you've been having weird dreams about a kid getting experimented on or a town being burned down? Ghosts? Lazarus portals?" Dinah sounds exhausted, but Bruce snaps to her voice with rapt attention. As do all of his children.

"I-" Bruce takes a look around the room, everyone's heads except for Tim's nodding up and down with distress," We all have."

"Something tells me that they whole JL is. Everyone I've talked to this week has had a variation of the same dream. We either have a telepath trying to tell us something, or something even worse than that."

"I'll call emergency meeting, we need to collect details and try to determine the complete message."

"I'll send you what I've noted down so far, sans personal details of course, it's definitely in a town called Amity Park though. My client this morning saw the sign."

Batman grunts and the call ends. It's time to get to work.

----

When the Justice League finally arrives, the town is glowing, and everything feels like... sleep. smothering. snoring. smoking. smoldering.

And then, despite the exhaustion that echos within them, the trudge onwards. The noise of laser guns certainly wakes them up a bit.

[kwanisms]

Unbearable — s.changbin

» stray kids menu | changbin menu | kinktober masterlist «

➮ werebear!Changbin × f!Reader wc: 8.9k summary: Changbin is a very reserved person. He tries to live a solitary and quiet life but after moving into a small studio apartment in what he thought was a quiet block of the city, his neighbor soon puts him to the test when she is extremely welcoming and outgoing. genres/themes/au: angst (heavy on this), fluff (again u gotta squint), smut; supernatural and lycanthropic themes, s2l, n2l; non idol au, supernatural au, werebear au warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, alcohol consumption, thoughts of self doubt and self loathing, self isolation as a coping technique, mention of death, sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut! taglist has been moved to reblogs join my taglist! kinktober 2024 taglist is CLOSED! Strikethrough means I cannot tag you. MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. AGELESS BLOGS WILL NOT BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST.

a/n: i am so sorry this took so long to get done and posted! i just lost steam for writing a lot of longer oneshots but thankfully, i got that steam back and now Kinktober 2023 can finally come to a close! Thank you so much for those of you that have been patiently waiting for this and you will be getting a sequel to this part very very soon! Thank you so much for reading and as always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.

smut warnings: teratophilia (aka monsterfucking), protected sex (it’s rushed and spur of the moment but at least Changbin uses his goddamn brain lmao), oral (both receiving), fingering (f receiving), strength kink, choking, body worship, facesitting (m receiving), use of pet names (baby, bunny, etc), power bottom!Changbin, sub!Reader, Binnie is a strong boy and Y/N really appreciates it and they are both kind of drunk off each other's presences. If I missed anything let me know! dialogue prompt: ❛ Don’t cover your mouth, I want everyone to know how good I make you feel. ❜

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The thing Changbin hated the most about his… condition, was having to move whenever things got complicated. His intense dislike of moving started as a child, moving from place to place because of his father’s work. He was in his final year of high school on a camping trip with some friends when the unthinkable happened.

Changbin wanted to try something new. He’d been camping in almost all the parks in Korea and wanted to go somewhere different. They decided to try Jirisan National Park. Most campers avoided the area due to the black pear population but Changbin’s friends were confident in their preparations.

They agreed to spend a week in the park; fishing, camping, hiking, and seeing the sights.

Most of the wildlife they encountered were small critters like squirrels and chipmunks and the occasional deer. Until their last night in the park.

Changbin had gotten up to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night and while doing his business, was attacked by a bear. It bit him, teeth tearing into the flesh of his arm. His scream alerted his friends who came to his rescue, scaring the creature off with mace.

Changbin was in and out of it from the shock and loss of blood but his friends later relayed to him that they called the ranger station on their radio and a helicopter was sent to airlift him to the nearest hospital. He was rushed into surgery and thankfully his arm was salvageable.

Changbin was lucky to be alive and he knew it. 

It was a month later when he realized things had changed forever.

The bear that had attacked him was no ordinary bear but was a werebear and Changbin had been cursed. He had been living with that curse for the last several years.

For the most part, he was able to keep to himself and keep his condition under wraps but occasionally, he slipped up and had to move which was the case yet again. He’d changed in view of one of his neighbors and had to make plans upon learning his secret had been discovered.

He found a new place, a small studio apartment on the outskirts of the city. Changbin’s goal was to find a place in the country but land was expensive.

He’d moved into the apartment, keeping to himself as he moved his things in. The apartment had come empty so he had to buy furniture to fill it and had spent an entire day building his own furniture alone. It wasn’t much but it was his and he’d have to make it home.

He had hoped to get through his two year lease without incident and left alone but his hopes were dashed when he ran into his neighbor who lived across the hall, Y/N. You were the opposite of him. Where Changbin was quiet, shy, and reserved you were bubbly and outgoing.

You had come back from running errands when you ran into him at the mailbox and immediately introduced yourself. Changbin was sure he had come off as very rude in this interaction but you didn’t seem to take it to heart, greeting him each time you saw him with a big smile.

You had told him that if he needed anything to not hesitate to ask and that you were happy to help.

You often brought him food, making too much for one person to eat and often gave him some of your leftovers. Changbin felt rude if he didn’t accept it and he didn’t want to hurt your feelings. The food was good, he wasn’t going to lie and say it sucked. He just wanted to be left alone.

You were far too friendly and more generous than he was used to or felt he deserved.

He was working from home one afternoon, close to his heat, when he heard a knock on his door and got up from his desk to answer it. Peering through the peephole, he saw you standing on the other side of the door and sighed softly. He unlocked the door, removing the chain and pulled the door open just enough to peek out.

“Hey,” you said softly. Changbin could hear music coming from one of the apartments upstairs. “Hey,” he replied softly. In your hands, you held another tupperware container. “I made some stew,” you started, glancing down at the container. “And I made too much,” you continued. “Again.”

“I uh… I thought you might like some,” you said with an uncertain smile.

Changbin forced a smile and pulled the door open some more. “That’s very kind of you,” he said softly as you handed the container over. “I keep finding recipes for families,” you added. “Too many servings for one person.” Changbin nodded as you spoke.

“I’m sure you’re busy,” you noted and smiled at him. “I’ll leave you alone.” Changbin hesitated, wanting to say thank you but you turned and crossed the hall back to your door, entering your apartment and shutting the door.

He looked down at the stew and sighed again. 

The last time you had come over to bring him food, he’d just come out of a transformation and had snapped at you. He’d been irritable, unwell, and frustrated with his situation and when you offered him some of your extra chicken, he snapped at you, slamming the door in your face.

Despite that, you were still bringing him food and being nice to him. He felt awful as he closed his door. Even after being so rude and mean, going as far to slam the door in your face, you still thought of him and brought him extra food.

He set the container on his counter and stared at it for a few moments before sitting back down at his computer and opening a new tab on his browser. He’d decided to make it up to you. He typed away, looking up gifts to give neighbors.

He managed to find a few good articles before he got up, grabbing his apartment keys and pulling on his jacket. He headed over to the town center, finding a garden center. From the various interactions he’d had with you in the past, you always mentioned your love for plants.

Your apartment was apparently decorated with them.

Changbin didn’t know much about plants but nonetheless, he returned home with a small potted plant. A little light green succulent. He hoped you’d like it.

The next day, he had to go into work so he wasn’t able to give you your gift and by the time he arrived home and knocked on your door, either you were asleep or out as it was a Friday night.

That night, he heard you come home and upon peering out of the peephole saw that you weren’t alone. You had a friend with you and Changbin knew he couldn’t apologize just yet. Maybe in the morning but the next morning you didn’t answer your door.

For a whole week, you didn’t answer any of his knocks nor did he see you.

Finally, when he was getting his mail from the mailbox downstairs, you returned. Changbin felt relieved as you entered the building. He was starting to get worried. You didn’t greet him with a usual smile when you saw him. Instead you quietly got your mail, a week's worth of it, and headed up the stairs without even looking at him.

Changbin followed from a distance, glancing over as you unlocked your door and let yourself into your apartment, not even sparing him a first or second glance as the door shut softly. It made his heart ache that he’d clearly scared you off enough to limit your contact with him.

More determined than ever, Changbin returned to his apartment and grabbed the plant with the envelope that contained a handwritten apology addressed to you where he apologized profusely for the way he acted and that while it was no excuse, he’d just gotten over a bad bout of the flu and wasn’t feeling well when he snapped at you. It wasn’t as much as you deserved but Changbin had never been very good with confrontation.

He set the plant on your welcome mat with the envelope front and center with the word ‘sorry’ written across the front of it. He stood back up and knocked three times loudly before retreating to his apartment and shutting the door.

He peered through the peephole, hoping to see you appear. Luck was on his side as your door opened slowly, your head appearing and looking around before your head turned down, noticing the plant. You opened the door fully, leaning out to look down the hall. As you knelt down to look at the plant, Changbin watched as you lifted the letter and looked at it.

He saw your gaze briefly look up at his door and though he knew you couldn’t possibly see him watching you, it made him nervous anyway. He watched as you grabbed the potted plant and stood up straight, plant in one hand, his letter in the other. You retreated to your apartment, shutting the door and Changbin sighed a breath of relief.

He decided to go back to his work, hoping he might hear from you later.

Around dinner time, Changbin’s stomach growled and he got up from his desk, hanging his headphones around his neck as he walked down the hall from his studio to the kitchen to open the fridge. He cursed softly as he saw he didn’t really have much in the way of a meal in his fridge. Another forgotten grocery trip meant ramen again.

He shut the fridge and opened a cabinet, grabbing a pot to make his ramen in and as he moved to the sink to fill it with water, there were three loud knocks at his door. He dropped the pan in the sink with a metallic clang and hurried over to the door, hoping he might see your face when he looked through the peephole but he was met with an empty hallway.

His heart sank and he stepped back, unlocking the door and opening it slightly. His eyes immediately fell to a pot with a lid sitting on his mat with a small card. He opened the door and bent down to pick up the card to read it.

‘Apology accepted but only if you eat all of this! ~ Y/N’

He looked down at the pot and carefully picked it up by the handles. It was hot. He looked up at your door before retreating into his apartment, shutting the door with his foot. He carried the pot over to the kitchen island and set it down. He read the card once more, turning it over to find a small smiley face.

He smiled to himself, setting the card down and lifted the lid to find what he could only assume was budae jjigae. There were slices of spam, sausages cut into small pieces, ramen noodles, mushrooms, fish cake, and rice cake in a spicy broth topped with cheese and chopped green onions. It smelled amazing and Changbin couldn’t help but feel a small sense of guilt at how he’d previously treated you.

He glanced at the card once more before he moved to grab a pair of chopsticks and a spoon. You had offered to accept his apology but only if he ate everything and he wasn’t about to let this meal you’d made specifically for him go to waste.

A week had passed by and while Changbin hadn’t seen or spoken to you face to face, he could feel that whatever tension there was between you had dissipated. You had accepted his gift and he, yours. Things were almost back to normal.

His heat loomed a couple days away when he went to the gym to burn off some steam. It was never enough to fully satiate his needs but it was the best he could do since he wasn’t seeing anyone, nor was he about to go looking.

As he was working on his usual set, he heard the door open and a familiar scent hit his nose, making his heart rate increase more than the current workout. He turned his head and saw you walk over towards the elliptical. He turned his head back, internally panicking. He could tell by your scent that you were close to ovulating and it was sending him into overstimulation.

He didn’t want to end his workout early, but he knew if he kept going, he was going to do something he would regret and could possibly get him and you arrested. He finished his set quickly and got up, moving to grab the spray bottle and a few paper towels to wipe down the machine.

He returned the bottle to its stand, tossing the used paper towels away and grabbed his things, heading for the door. He glanced over at you which proved to be a terrible mistake. You were stretching before getting on the elliptical which was a good practice Changbin noted but you were bent over, ass on full display in your leggings. 

Changbin was no stranger to your figure. He was used to seeing you in dresses, skirts, or sometimes an oversize sweater and leggings but seeing you in form fitting athletic gear was something he was not used to. He wasn’t used to how it hugged your curves, outlining everything about your body he found insanely attractive.

He was so busy staring at your ass that he ran right into the trash bin beside the door with a loud bang that echoed in the otherwise small gym. You stood up and turned to look at him, an expression of confusion and concern on your face as he put the trash bin back, cheeks burning as he glanced back at you, giving you a nod before he quickly exited the gym, heading for the stairs.

He was glad there was no one else in the room and that no one had actually seen him run into the trash can. How embarrassing would that have been?

Changbin made it to his floor and entered his apartment. He showered and changed into clean clothes before heading to the kitchen. He’d actually gone grocery shopping this time and as he was browsing his fridge, he heard his phone ding from the kitchen island. Closing the fridge, he walked over to pick up the device, unlocking it and checking his messages.

It was a text from you and it sent his heart into a frenzy before remembering you had exchanged numbers shortly after he moved in because your packages kept getting delivered to his box instead of yours. It had been a while since then and your mail had gotten sorted out but he genuinely forgot he even had your number as he read the text.

Y/N Neighbor: hey, is everything alright? That sounded painful ):

Changbin grimaced. ‘Sounded?’ he wondered. ‘That means she didn’t see it. Good.’ He quickly typed a response.

Changbin: yeah! I wasn’t watching where I was going. Too busy looking at my phone 😅i’m ok tho 🙂

Your response was swift.

Y/N Neighbor: okay good. I was worried. Y/N Neighbor: hey, while I have your attention. Do you have plans for dinner?

Changbin chuckled, typing his response.

Changbin: why? you gonna leave another pot of stew on my door mat? Y/N Neighbor: no 😭i was actually wondering if you’d like to come over for dinner Y/N Neighbor: I got some really nice beef short ribs from the butcher and was planning to make some tteokgalbi. I found a recipe and wanted to give it a shot

A grin spread across Changbin’s face as he read your text.

Y/N Neighbor: and who better to ask than my only Korean neighbor? Y/N Neighbor: So how about it? Y/N Neighbor: Do you want to come over for dinner?

Changbin hesitated answering as he stared at his phone. On one hand, he would love nothing more than to come over and help teach you how to make one of his favorite dishes, eat together, and enjoy your company but on the other hand, he knew that he was tempting fate, being alone with you so close to his heat. He weighed the pros and cons but very quickly, his logic was beat out by the promise of beef short ribs.

Changbin: sure. I’d love to. What time?

He sent the message and waited for your response. It took a couple moments but he saw the read receipt appear and soon you were typing your response.

Y/N Neighbor: I’m almost finished in the gym and I’ll have to shower. So let’s say… 7PM?

He smiled before typing back, thumbs tapping against the screen of his phone.

Changbin: perfect. See you at 7 (:

Changbin stressed over what to wear as this wasn’t exactly a formal setting like a date but you had still invited him to dinner at your place and you were going to be making food but he would be helping so he opted for something comfortable. Black pants, a white tee, and a gray sweatshirt. He scoured his fridge and pantry for something to bring with and settled on an unopened bottle of wine in his fridge that he received as a parting gift when he left Korea.

With the bottle of wine in hand, he headed across the hall. He took a deep breath and knocked on the door, resisting the urge to run and hide. He heard footsteps approach the door and after unlocking, the door opened to reveal your smile. “Hi,” you said breathlessly. Changbin returned the greeting and you opened the door wider to let him in.

He stepped over the threshold awkwardly, holding the bottle of wine tightly as he entered your apartment. It was smaller than his but you had a studio while he had a two bedroom. In the entryway you had tile flooring much like his and a shoe rack stood against the wall with various pairs of shoes from running shoes to much dressier shoes like pumps. There were even a couple pairs of boots.

Hanging over the shoe rack was a shelf that went from one wall to the other in the small entryway. On top of the shelf were various storage items inside pleasant looking boxes with drawers and small printed labels on the front detailing what was inside. On the underside of the shelf was a bar where you jackets hung including one heavy winter coat and various scarves for different temperatures.

Beside the shoe rack was a small bench with a cream and brown striped cushion where you no doubt sat and put on your shoes before leaving the apartment. You had already put on a pair of house slippers and to his surprise, a new pair of house slippers were sitting on standby for him. He quickly removed his shoes, a pair of crocs, and slid on the slippers as he followed you from the entry.

The rest of your apartment was just as small. There was a large flatscreen on the wall that separated the living area from the entryway. Under it stood a brown media center with a gaming console and inside the glass doors was a wide array of video games and DVDs. 

Your couch, a sectional, took up the back wall, squeezing into the corner and ending before the door to your balcony and was littered with pillows with a plush cream colored blanket, folded in half and draped over the arm. 

In front of the couch between it and the media console, was a coffee table with a few plants. Behind the couch was a window with a wide window sill which was full of potted house plants of different varieties and colors. The more he looked around, the more plants he saw. He was glad he had gotten it right and gifted you a plant.

Next to the living area was a small dining area with a four person bistro table pushed against the wall on the opposite side of the door to the balcony. Three of the four chairs were placed around the table and on top was a vase with a few flowers in it. Behind the table, another window with deep set sills littered with more plants. Next to the dining area was your bedroom area. It was separated by a curtain, hung from a track on the ceiling. The curtain was a sheer white one, allowing Changbin a glimpse past it to your bed. It was a queen size with a black fluffy comforter and matching black decorative pillows. The sheets were hidden but the pillows behind the throw ones were a cream color with a light floral pattern.

On one side of your bed was a nightstand with a lamp and alarm clock while on the opposite side was a tall chest of drawers, atop where a few makeup items and perfume bottles stood. He turned away before he could get a good look at it all and faced you. “Oh, is that for tonight?” you asked, nodding towards the bottle in his hands. He nodded, crossing the short distance.

“Yeah, I uh… wasn’t sure what to bring,” he admitted, holding the bottle out for you to take. You smiled, taking the bottle and moved behind the kitchen island, opening the fridge and setting the bottle inside on the door. Changbin looked around once more as you shut the fridge and turned to face him.

“So, shall we get started?” you asked. Changbin walked over to the island, looking at the items on the counter. You had the beef ribs sitting on a plate. Everything else had been measured out and was ready to go. He could see you also had soybean sprouts, spinach, zucchini, daikon, and tofu. “What is all of this for?” he asked, nodding at the other items.

“I thought we could also make some of the side dishes?” you asked, looking up at him. Changbin smiled, pushing the cuffs of his sleeves up as he moved around to join you at the sink and wash his hands. “So I’m guessing you have the stuff for seasoned soybeans, seasoned spinach, hobak bokkeum, daikon radish salad, and pan fried tofu?” he asked as you dried your hands.

You nodded before handing him the towel. “I’ve made them before, so I could prepare those while you prepare the ribs?” you offered. Changbin smiled, shaking his head. “We can make them together while the meat cooks,” he explained. “How about you cut the garlic and onions and make the marinade?” he asked. “That way you can watch how to prepare the meat.” You nodded with a smile. 

“Sounds good to me.”

You quickly cut the garlic and onions, adding them to a bowl while Changbin prepared the ribs. You continued making the sauce while he explained how to mince the meat and showed you. “And you leave it on the bone?” you asked. He nodded as he set one rib aside and worked on another one. You added the rest of the ingredients to the bowl and stirred it, mixing it well.

“How’s this?” you asked, showing Changbin the sauce. He peered into the bowl. “How does it taste?” he asked. You looked up at him and back down. “You can dip your finger in here,” he said with a chuckle. You did as he said and tasted the sauce. “It’s really good,” you answered, moving to rinse your hand again. Changbin finished the second rib and moved onto the last one, slicing the meat down to the bone. “If you want to start putting the sauce on the ribs,” he said as he continued cutting.

“Make sure to get it down into the meat,” he added as you moved to his other side and started scooping out the marinade, placing generous amounts onto the ribs while he finished cutting the last one. He rinsed the knife and your cutting board before washing his hands and drying them.

He leaned over, inspecting your work. “Don’t use all of it,” he said as you focused on the last one. You looked up at him inquisitively as he took the bowl from you with a laugh. “You have to save some for later.” You nodded and moved to wash your hands while he set the remainder of the sauce aside. “Is the oven preheated?” he asked.

You glanced behind you and noticed the little light, communicating this to him. “Perfect,” he said, picking up the cast iron pan. You hurried to open the oven for him and he set the pan in the middle of the rack and stood up, shutting the door and turning to you. “Now we can work on those side dishes,” he said with a smile.

You focused on the cooking while Changbin did all the cutting and seasoning. Your rice cooker had finished when you plated the pan fried tofu. “Do you want something to drink?” you asked Changbin. He looked up from the spinach dish. “Uh, sure,” he said as he mixed the spinach with sesame oil and garlic. 

You turned to open the fridge, eyes falling on the bottle of wine. “Want to open this wine?” you asked, turning back to look at him. He looked up from the dish, eyes wide. “Oh, yeah, sure,” he answered, returning his focus to the spinach.

He felt his heart rate speed up. He was already tempting fate by being alone with you like this but adding alcohol to the mix? That could only end in disaster. He knew from experience that mixing alcohol with his heat and someone as pretty as you were? It was surely to end only one way but he was determined to not let it go that way.

You opened the bottle of wine and poured two glasses, putting the bottle back and gently pushing one of the glasses towards Changbin who thanked you and lifted the glass to his face, sniffing the liquid as you took a sip. Changbin followed, taking a sip before he immediately spit it back into the glass, as did you, exclaiming with disgust. You met his gaze and the two of you burst into laughter.

You retrieved the bottle from the fridge to inspect it while Changbin walked over to grab your glass, dumping both into the sink. “God, that’s awful,” you gagged. Changbin rinsed out the wine glasses, setting them aside. “Do you have anything else?” he asked.

You looked up from the bottle, setting it aside. “I might have some soju,” you said softly, turning to the fridge and opening it while Changbin watched, eyes roaming over your body and taking in your outfit. It was a simple cream dress with a pleated skirt that fell to the middle of your thighs. Over it, you wore an off the shoulder light pink sweater, showing the thick straps of the dress. He saw the white thigh high stockings you work and it took everything in him to not jump you right there.

“I do have soju,” you announced. “Soju sounds nice,” Changbin answered, drawing his eyes away from your backside. “Could you grab a couple shot glasses from the cabinet?” you asked, gesturing to the correct door as you grabbed an unopened bottle of Soju from the fridge. Changbin set the glasses down and grabbed the bottle from you.

“Want to see a neat trick?” he asked. You nodded, leaning against the counter and watching him attentively as he grasped the bottle firmly. “This is just something we do in Korea,” he said. “It doesn’t really serve a purpose other than to look cool.” You nodded and watched as he quickly turned the bottle so the cap was pointed to the 4 o’clock position before flicking it back upright quickly.

Inside the bottle, the liquid swirled around, creating a small cyclone. Your smile widened and you shifted on your toes. “Can I try?” you asked excitedly. Changbin handed the bottle over, showing you how to hold it before letting you attempt. The first try did nothing except make some bubbles.

“Here,” he said, moving to stand behind you, reaching around to place his hand over yours. “Like this,” he said softly, guiding your hand to the correct positions slowly. “Just like that, only faster. Try it.” You followed his instructions and managed to make a weak tornado appear in the bottle.

“I did it!” you said excitedly as he chuckled, taking the bottle from you. He twisted the cap off, leaving the small strip of metal attached. He poured your shot first before pouring one for himself. “The first one, we always cheer,” he explained as you both picked up your glasses. “How do you say cheers in Korean?” you asked. “Gonbae,” he replied, holding his shot glass up slightly.

You raised yours to meet his, giving it a small tap, the clinking of glass soft. “Gonbae,” you repeated before raising the liquor to your lips and tipping your head back, pouring the entire shot into your mouth and swallowing as Changbin mirrored your movements.

It was slightly sweet, very crisp, and clean as it went down smoothly. You set the shot glass down as Changbin finished his shot a step behind you, setting his glass down as well. You looked up to meet his gaze but before you could say anything, a timer went off, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“The short ribs!” you exclaimed, grabbing a pair of potholders while Changbin moved to take over the frying of the zucchini. You pulled the pan out and set it down. “Let’s transfer them over to this,” Changbin said, grabbing the cast iron sizzler pan, turning on the burner next to the other skillet. It heated up quickly and you helped Changbin move the ribs over to the sizzling pan, placing them face down on the iron and spooning the rest of the sauce over them.

“We’ll let those cook for a bit and then turn them over and let them finish cooking,” he said as he set the spoon aside. “This is done, by the way,” he said, moving the zucchini off the burner and turning it off. “Now, we just wait on the galbi,” he added.

You poured another shot for him before pouring one for yourself and quickly downed it. His close proximity earlier had made goosebumps rise on your arms and thighs and there was now a burning ache in your skin where he’d touched you as we all other places he had not touched.

The meat was done after a few more minutes and Changbin insisted you set the coffee table, opting to eat in the living room instead of the dining table as it was a much less formal setting. You moved the side dishes and bottle of soju over to the coffee table, also getting two bottles of water from the fridge as Changbin placed the sizzler pan on the wooden block that came with it.

Once you’d set the table, he walked over, setting the galbi in the middle while you moved a cushion to the floor for him to sit on. You admired your handiwork, looking at all the side dishes and the main dish. You had scooped two bowls of rice from your rice cooker and also heated up some leftover beef broth  and added green onions for garnish.

You sat down, Changbin across from you. “We make a pretty good team, don’t we?” you asked, looking up to meet his gaze. “Yeah,” he said with a smile. “We really do.”

You made space for Changbin to sit next to you, opting to put on a movie while you ate, drank, and chatted. He showed you how to make ssambap, adding the meat, rice, and sauce to a lettuce leaf and eating the entire thing. It was all so delicious and you mentioned in passing that you should have him over more.

One bottle of soju dwindled and you grabbed a second which also slowly emptied as you ate your fill of the food. Most of the plates were empty when you poured another shot for Changbin before pouring one for yourself. You raised your glasses and downed the shots quickly.

“So,” you said as you set your glass down and looked up at Changbin. “Can I ask you something?” you asked, scooting a little closer to him, enjoying the warmth that radiated from his body. He nodded, resting his elbow on the table and resting his chin in his palm as he looked at you with sparkling eyes.

“Why are you single?”

The question took him by surprise. He hadn’t expected you to ask that, let alone ask it so boldly. You had an innocent look on your face as you looked at him, expecting an answer. He mulled over his thoughts before choosing his words, carefully.

“I have a… complicated life,” he started. “There are things I have to… hide from people. Not because I’m afraid of how they’ll see me but because I’m afraid of scaring them off.” Your smile fell and you leaned closer, placing a hand on his forearm. “You’re a good person, Changbin,” you said softly in a reassuring tone. “There’s someone out there for you.”

He smiled at you, a small but genuine smile. “What about you?” he asked softly, looking at your hand on his arm, his heart rate speeding up as he looked up, meeting your gaze. “Me?” you asked. “I guess I haven’t found the right person. I’ve been burned too many times.”

Changbin felt his heart sink. The thought of you getting your heart broken made him both sad and angry. 

He didn’t know you that well but from what he’d experienced since moving in, he couldn’t imagine anyone purposely hurting you.

Changbin scooted closer, placing a hand over yours. The moment his skin touched yours it was like you’d been hit with an electric shock. You looked up to meet his eyes. There was a moment of unspoken tension between you as you stared at one another before something happened.

You weren’t sure who moved first but all you knew was that one minute you were sitting on the floor, using your coffee table as a table to eat at, the next you were straddling him, your lips on his and hands tangled in his hair as his hands slid up your back.

You moaned into his mouth, hands tugging at his hair as he grabbed your waist. “Wait,” he said breathlessly, pulling away to look up at you, his lips shining with your spit. “Maybe we shouldn’t. We’ve both been drinking. Maybe we should — mmpf!” 

You cut him off, taking his lips in another searing kiss, your lips parting his and your tongue sliding against his. His fingers dug into your hips, squeezing the plush flesh there as your lips started to plant wet kisses down the side of his neck over his pulse point. He let out a soft groan, letting his head fall back against the couch cushions as you kissed down to the junction where his neck and shoulder met.

You pulled the fabric aside, nipping and sucking on the skin as his hands guided your hips over his growing erection. “Fuck,” he gasped as you grinded against him. “Keep doing that, baby.” Your fingers inched up the back of his neck, curling into his hair before tugging his head to the side, trailing kisses and your tongue up the side of his neck.

“Is it bad that I kinda wanna sit on your face?” you whispered in his ear, making him groan. “God, please,” he groaned. “I’ll lay down right here if you’ll sit on my face,” he promised. You giggled as he pulled you in for a sloppy kiss. You pulled back, gently wiping his bottom lip with your thumb. “I’m serious,” he murmured against your skin.

“Take your panties off and sit on my face.”

You shook your head. “You take my panties off and then I’ll think about sitting on your face.”

Changbin growled, pushing your coffee table back with his foot, wrapping his arms around your body as he got to his feet in an impressive display of strength, before carrying you over to the bed and dumping you unceremoniously on the bed. He climbed on after you, crawling over you.

“Before we go any further,” he said softly. “Are you sure about this?” You nodded quickly. “Yes,” you said, grabbing one of his hands and guiding it under your skirt to press his fingers against your soaked panties. “I want this, Changbin. I want you.”

He groaned, pressing his fingers harder against you as he captured your lips in another heated kiss, tongue hastily entering your mouth as his hand slipped under your panties, finding your soaked center quickly and dragging his finger against your clit. “Ch-Changbin!” you gasped against his lips as his fingers sank into your heat, groaning as he started to move, curling and pumping in and out of your cunt.

“Fuck, you’re gonna be so tight around me,” he growled. Your thighs spread on instinct as he fucked your hole with his fingers quickly, attempting to coax an orgasm out of you. “B-Bin,” you whimpered, grabbing his wrist as he moved faster. Your hands trembled as you held onto him, eyes dipping down to watch as his forearm flexed.

Seeing his muscles flex with the simplest of motions made a fresh wave of arousal course through you, your walls clenching around his fingers. Changbin could tell you were close but he really wanted to take up your offer to sit on his face. Reluctantly, he pulled his fingers from your pussy, ignoring the whine of protests as he kissed the pout off your face.

“I told you I was serious,” he said as he grabbed your panties, pulling them off and discarding them.

“I want you to sit on my face,” he added as he laid back on the bed, taking your hands and guided you over him. “Bend over slightly,” he said, pushing to over as he guided your hips into place over his mouth. “You don’t have to do anything,” he added as he licked his lips.

“Just let me have a taste.

You were about to speak but your words were cut short by the gasp that ripped from your throat as his tongue made contact with your clit. Your hands landed on his stomach to steady yourself as he licked slowly and deliberately, flattening his tongue against your clit.

“Oh god,” you groaned, fingers grabbing the material of his sweater. Your eyes fluttered open as you glanced down at his crotch, noticing the outline of his hard cock. You got an idea as he continued to makeout with your pussy. You moved your hand down, sliding it over his cock, making him groan against you. His arms flexed against your thighs as he wrapped them tighter around, hands spreading your folds as he renewed his attention on your entrance, tongue swirling around it before dipping in.

You started to palm him through his pants, pressing your hand flat against him and massaging slowly. He was only semi-hard and as you continued to massage and stroke him over the material of his pants, he started to grow harder and harder under your touch.

You moaned as he latched onto your clit and sucked, making lewd wet slurping noises as he hungrily ate you out. It didn’t deter you from your goal as your fingers worked to undo the ties of his sweatpants. Once you’d gotten them loose, you slid your hand under the waistband, slipping your hand into his boxers and grabbing his hard cock.

He let out a strained noise, moaning against your cunt as your hand started to work his cock inside his pants. His one movement started to move faster as you stroked him, as if to match your movements. “Oh shit,” you gasped as he gently nipped at your clit, the graze of his teeth making your hips buck against his face. You needed to get him to the edge before you came.

You pushed his pants and underwear down, freeing his cock as he latched onto your clit again. His cock was thick, veins running up and down the shaft. The head was dark, a bead of precum already leaking from the slit at the top. 

You wrapped your fingers around the base, ignoring the hiss and hot breath against your pussy as you started to slide your hand up and down, using your palm to spread some of the precum. It wasn’t enough and so you pulled back, spitting into your hand before resuming, your saliva creating a lubricant to move faster and faster.

Changbin let out another strained groan, head falling back against the bed as your hand continued to jerk his cock. Just as you thought you were gaining the upper hand, Changbin snapped out of it, pulling your pussy down onto his waiting mouth, tongue sliding over your clit, flicking it with the tip of his tongue. His focus made yours waver as your hand faltered, sliding to the base of his cock.

“O-oh, god,” you moaned, head falling onto his stomach as he continued to lick, suck, and nip at your clit. Your hips started to move of their own accord, grinding against him as you tried to resume stroking his cock. Lifting your head, you did the only thing you could think of and gave the tip of his cock, particularly the slit, a lick before taking the head into your mouth.

Changbin groaned against you, giving your hip a sharp smack and you cried out, his cock falling from your mouth. Your lapse allowed him to regain control, tonguing your hole until he gave one final suck on your clit and you finally came with a moan of his name.

As your thighs shook from the aftermath of your orgasm, he lapped at your pussy, drinking up every bit of your release before you started to shy away from the contact. He helped you off him, chuckling as you rolled onto your back. Changbin grabbed his pants and underwear, pulling them up as he wiped his face with his shirt.

“I should have made you face the other way,” he said as he helped you out of your top, tossing it aside and pressing a kiss to your collar. His lips trailed down to your breast, running his tongue over your nipple and gently blowing on the wet skin as he kneaded your other breast with his hand.

He sat up, moving to kneel between your thighs, his hands moving up your thighs to your waist, eyeing your wet pussy. “Now that I’ve had a taste,” he said softly. “I want more.” You giggled as he leaned in, pressing his lips to yours in short, quick kisses. “C’mere,” he murmured, cupping the back of your head as he parted your lips with his, allowing his tongue to slide into your mouth, the taste of your cum on his tongue.

“Changbin,” you sighed, head falling back against the pillows as he kissed down your exposed chest, stopping to tease your nipples with his tongue once more before he sat up, gaze meeting yours, a lazy smirk on his face as he took in your disheveled appearance. A surge of pride swelled in his chest at the sight of you, knowing he was the one responsible.

“Binnie,” you cooed, reaching out for him. He took your hand, bringing your palm to his face and kissing it. “What is it, bunny?” he asked softly, lacing his fingers with yours. Your heart skipped a beat at the intimate gesture, wondering if this meant more to him than you initially thought.

“Are you sure about this?” you asked as he pulled your skirt down past your knees, tossing it aside before pulling his sweatshirt over his head. “Yes,” he answered, discarding the top on the floor with the rest of your clothes. He leaned over pressing light kisses up your body, ghosting over your chest briefly before he met your lips. You giggled as his hands slid up your sides, tickling you.

“I’ve never been more sure than I am now,” he added, mumbling against your lips. “I’ve wanted you for longer than I’d like to admit,” he continued, hands pushing his waistband down with one hand. “Where did you say you keep the condoms?” he asked, pulling back to meet your gaze.

“Back of the top drawer,” you said, pointing at your bedside table. Changbin scrambled over to the side of the bed, pulling open the drawer and finding the box. He grabbed one, putting the corner of the packet between his teeth as he quickly stripped himself of his pants and underwear before joining you on the bed once more. He tore open the foil packet with his teeth, removed the condom, and rolled it down his length slowly, avoiding your gaze.

Finally he tossed the remnants of the condom wrapper aside, promising he would clean them up later as he shifted into place, grabbing you by the thighs and tugging you closer in one motion, demonstrating his strength. “I promised I’ll be gentle,” he said softly. “But if I start to get out of control, just tell me, alright?” he asked softly, stroking the skin of your thighs. You nodded, licking your lips.

“I will,” you said softly. “But I should tell you something,” you added, watching as he tilted his head curiously. “What’s that?” he asked. “I like it a little rough.” Changbin let out a groan, fingers digging into your thighs. “You shouldn’t say things like that,” he said, taking his cock in one hand, guiding the head to your slit. “Makes me want to ruin you.”

You let out a moan as you felt the head of his cock push into you, thighs instinctively squeezing his hips. “You’re tense,” he noted as he felt your walls grip him tightly. “Relax for me,” he added in a soothing tone. “I don’t wanna hurt you.” You took a couple deep breaths, forcing your body to relax, your grip on his cock lessening. “That’s it,” Changbin whispered. “Good girl.”

He pushed in further and it took all of your concentration to relax and not start tensing up again. “Fuck,” he groaned as he slid in without resistance. “Such a good little bunny,” he murmured. The pet name made you moan, clenching around him involuntarily. “Don’t do that,” he grunted, hips meeting the back of your thighs as he bottomed out. “I’m trying not to cum and if you keep doing that,” he said as your walls tightened around him again. “I won’t last.”

“S-sorry,” you stammered, waiting for your bodies to adjust to one another. Changbin let go of your thighs, instead, his hands moving to your hips. “God, you’re so beautiful,” he said softly, admiring every inch of skin he could touch. “I could stay like this forever,” he added. “Spend all night fucking you.”

“You’re so fucking beautiful. All your curves, all of this,” he said, running his hands up to your chest, giving you a soft squeeze before moving back down to your hips. “I love every single bit of it.” Your cheeks burned. “Even if I’m not the —” his hand moved to your face, pressing a finger against your lips. “I don’t want to hear it,” he said. “Your body is beautiful. All of it. You are beautiful.”

You nodded, letting his words sink in.

He gave you a thrust, testing the waters and when you moaned instead of wincing, he set a steady pace, hands moving up to your waist as your own hands gripped the sheets. “Oh s-shit,” you gasped, pleasure building in the pit of your stomach, a heat settling in your belly as the pace slowly increased. Changbin slowed down, letting out a chuckle when you pouted.

“I told you,” he said softly. “I’m not trying to cum immediately.”

His pace continued at a slow pace but each thrust was hard and powerful, making you see stars. “Ch-Changbin,” you whined. “Yeah, baby?” he asked breathlessly as he continued, his hips not faltering once. “M-more,” you whimpered. “More? You want more?” he asked. “More of what? Gotta be specific, sweetheart.”

Your cheeks burned under his gaze as he waited for a response. “F-faster,” you finally managed to squeak out. Changbin chuckled but obliged, giving in to your request easily. The room filled with the sound of skin against skin but not loud enough to drown out your moans. As he reached a fast but comfortable pace, you let out a loud moan, shocking yourself. You quickly raised your hand to cover your mouth but Changbin grabbed your wrist, pinning your hand against the bed.

“Don’t cover your mouth,” he said, shaking his head as he leaned over you, pounding into you, the sound of the bed hitting the wall made your cheeks burn even more. “I want everyone to know how good I make you feel.”

You moaned loudly, unrestrained. “P-pin me down,” you said suddenly, making him hesitate for a moment before he grabbed your other wrist and pinned it down, continuing to fuck you into the sheets. “You’re so strong,” you moaned, thighs squeezing his sides. Changbin let out a groan, cock twitching inside you. He pulled out quickly, making you whine in protest but he was quick to switch places, guiding you to sit on top of him.

“Ride me,” he said. You nodded, aligning his tip with your hole and sinking down on him, letting out a moan as his cock filled your cunt. “Fuck, that’s it, baby. Go on,” he said as you steadied yourself, placing your hands on the bed and raising your hips. Changbin’s hands ghosted over your hips, guiding your movements until you had set a pace.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty on top of me like this,” he groaned, bucking his hips to match your movements. “I like this. Can focus on touching you,” he continued, moving his hands up to cup your chest, kneading your breasts. “You can’t pin me like this, though,” you whined, making him chuckle. “You like that?” he asked breathlessly. “Like it when I hold you down?” You nodded. “I do. Makes me feel so weak.”

Changbin let out a groan, his hands moving, taking your hands. “I could hold your wrists,” he offered. “Or if you’re good and keep riding me like this, I promise I’ll pin you down and fuck you rough, like you want. Just keep going,” he said, placing your hands on his chest. “Keep going.”

You rolled your hips, chasing your high as he nodded and encouraged you. “That’s it, bunny, cum for me and then I’ll pin you down and fuck you just how you want it.” Your eyes fluttered shut as your thighs started to shake. “I-I’m close!” you gasped. “It’s okay. Go ahead and let go, baby.” You let out a moan as your orgasm washed over you. You hadn’t even fully finished when Changbin had flipped you over, pinning your wrists above your head as he took over.

He fucked you through your high, chasing his own as he pounded into you. “Fuck,” he cursed. “So fucking good,” he continued. “Gonna cum again?” he asked, feeling your cunt convulsing around him. “Y-yes!” you cried out, your voice bouncing off the walls of your apartment. “Be good and cum for me,” he grunted. 

You grabbed his hand, guiding it to your throat and he understood without you saying a word. He squeezed gently and a moment later, you came undone once more but this time, Changbin went over the edge with you, releasing into the condom with a moan as his hips continued to thrust weakly until he finally came to a stop, panting as you both let your orgasms sweep over you.

The hand around your throat moved, cupping the back of your neck instead as Changbin pressed a kiss to your forehead. He released your wrists and pulled out of you carefully. Your eyes fluttered shut as he moved about, discarding the condom. He returned to the bed a moment later, helping you into a pair of underwear and an oversized shirt. “We should shower,” you whined as he joined you on the bed.

“Hmm, later,” he replied, wrapping an arm around your midsection and pulling you into him. “It’s late, let’s just sleep,” he added and before you could agree or protest, slumber welcomed you.

The next morning you woke up first and carefully got up, heading to the bathroom to do your business. Afterwards, you returned to bed, settling under the covers with Changbin, accidentally waking him in the process. “Sorry,” you whispered as you snuggled up next to him. Changbin murmured under his breath and pulled you in closer, wrapping his arms around you. 

“I spent the night,” he finally said and you nodded. “Yes,” you answered, looking up at him. “You did.”

He looked down at you as a silence fell over you. “I guess we should probably discuss what this means…” he trailed off as you smiled and pressed a kiss to his lips. “It can mean whatever you want it to mean,” you replied. “If you aren’t looking for a relationship and only want a fuck buddy, I’m fine with that.” Changbin winced at the crude remark. “Or if you’d rather it be a one time thing, I’m okay with that, too.”

“I don’t,” Changbin said quickly. “I don’t want it to be a one time thing.” You smiled at him as he spoke. “But I’m not sure if I want a relationship either,” he continued. You pulled him into a kiss before rolling him onto his back as you straddled his hips. “Well, take your time,” you suggested. “Figure out what you want.” You leaned over to kiss him again, trailing your lips down his neck to his chest. 

“It’s not like I’m going anywhere any time soon.”

©️ kwanisms 2024 | all works on this blog are protected under copyright. Do not repost, continue, or translate my works. All graphics made by me.

[why-animals-do-the-thing]

Y'all regularly send in questions wanting to know how to report concerns you've observed at zoos you've visited. I've been able to point people at the USDA (regulatory) option, but with regard to accrediting groups I haven't had a good answer. I spent the last six months or so really digging into why there hasn't been a good answer. What I've found is that the majority of zoological accrediting groups in the United States don't provide any way for the public to report issues they've observed at accredited facilities, and none of said organizations have a mechanism for truly supporting / protecting staff who might choose to report issues at their own facilities. Which is. not great.

I wrote a whole Substack post about it a few days ago, arguing that in order to remain credible institutions accrediting groups must facilitate public reporting, anonymous reporting, and commit to enforcing penalties for any retaliation against staff who choose to utilize the option. I'm linking it below for anyone who is interested in all the details. CW at the beginning for animal abuse mentions - I started the piece by discussing a truly egregious welfare situation that occurred last year at a Miami facility, which might have been prevented or at least caught earlier if the two groups that accredit the facility had had a reporting mechanism in place.

What I want to talk about here, though, is specifically why accrediting orgs need to not only have an anonymous reporting option for staff, but why they must ban retaliation and penalize any facility that does it anyway. Whenever something terrible happens at a zoo or sanctuary, people always ask "why didn't the staff say something?" And the answer is, basically, because taking that risk can get you not just fired, but blacklisted from the field. People literally end up having to choose between their careers and making noise about issues that aren't being resolved, and that's absolutely not freaking okay. But I want to explain for you the extent of the issue.

If you're not industry, something you might be surprised to learn is that most zoo staff don't have any special reporting options above and beyond what the public does. Most zookeepers and other low-level staff never interact with people from accrediting groups except during an actual inspection - so if there's a problem, it's not like they know someone they can back-channel a concern to if they don't feel safe reporting it publicly. And for the most part, reporting things your facility is doing to an accrediting group will always be considered inappropriate and probably get a keeper in trouble (even if it's a really valid issue).

The zoological industry runs on a strongly hierarchical system. Staff are expected to “stay within their lanes” and work within the established bureaucracy to resolve issues. Deviating from this, if staff feel like management are suppressing issues or something needs to be addressed urgently, is very heavily frowned upon. Basically, going around management to bring something to an accrediting group (or USDA, or the media) is seen as indicating that your facility has failed to address a problem, or that the individual making the report feels they know more than their superiors. At most places, no matter how extreme an issue may become, there's never a point at which it would be acceptable for a staff member to reveal a facility’s internal issues to their accrediting body. 

The thing is, attempting to resolve issues through the proper internal channels at a facility doesn't always work! It can result in an issue being covered up (especially if the company is kinda shady) or suppressed rather than addressed. If staff decide to push the issue, it can really backfire and jeopardize their job, because it's expected that if management says something is fine, staff need to acquiesce and go along with it.

There have been a couple high-profile examples of this in the last decade: the incident I mention in my Substack where new management at the Miami Seaquarium decided to starve dolphins to coerce them into participating in guest programs, and an issue at the Austin Zoo five-ish years ago where the director was perpetuating serious welfare issues and ignoring staff feedback. In both cases, there's always the questions of where the accrediting group was. We don't know anything about what happened with the Seaquarium (it's been over six months since the USDA report documenting the diet cuts was released and AMMPA and American Humane haven't said a thing), but I remember hearing that ZAA had no idea what was happening at Austin because nobody had reached out to them about it.

This is why I'm arguing that all zoological accrediting groups need to make visible reporting options and make sure staff feel safe enough to use them! If you've got a facility perpetuating or not dealing with major issues, it's pretty probable that they're going to be unhappy if their staff reports those issues to any oversight body. That's not a situation where it's currently safe to speak up right now - and four out of five zoological accrediting groups in the US don't have standards prohibiting retaliation against staff for bringing up issues like that! (Surprisingly, it's not AZA. It's the sanctuary accrediting group, GFAS). Without any option for internal reporting, issues may not get addressed - which hurts animal welfare - or people risk losing their job, possibly their entire career in the field (which is a huge part of people's identities!), and their financial stability to advocate for their animals.

Currently, the two accrediting groups that do have reporting options (AZA and GFAS) stay they'll attempt to keep reports anonymous, but acknowledge it may not be possible to do so. (Which tracks, because zoo jobs are highly specialized and only a few people may be exposed to an issue). However, only GFAS prohibits facilities from retaliating against people who make reports. On top of that, there's absolutely no transparency about what happens next: GFAS, ZAA, AMMPA and AH have no information about how the process transpires and if someone making a report will get any information back about what happened. AZA straight up says that all accreditation stuff is proprietary (read: confidential) so you just have to trust that they dealt with it appropriately. Just yeet your report into the void and hope the groups doing oversight handle it correctly when there's no accountability? That's... not a great look for animal welfare concerns.

I hope the industry chooses to fix this problem. I hope it chooses to invest in transparency and increased credibility. I don't know what I expect, but I'd like to see these accrediting groups do the right thing.

My full write-up on how accrediting groups in the US handle reporting and concerns (or don't) is linked below.

[basket-of-radiants]

Coming from someone else who also gets irrationally angry at the entire series for this specific reason, good post op and good addition. Just to tack on to this and make a long post longer, I don’t think it’s wrong to write stories with aristocratic protagonists (it’s a good way to raise the stakes of any character choices) and I don’t think it’s wrong to include racism in a story (it’s a facet of human existence and is entirely deserving of a place in any narrative involving class and empire.) And honestly, I don’t really want or expect Sanderson to “solve” racism. Given how the Alethi society has been set up, I can’t really imagine any way racism could be solved within the books’ limited timeframe that wouldn’t feel cheap and inauthentic.

That all being said. Racism and its associated oppressive structures were the theme of the very first book in the series. You decide you want to read Stormlight Archive, so you open Way of Kings, and you get a book about a man enduring the hardships of slavery interspersed with flashbacks of how a lighteyes had abused his power over his family when he was younger. You get explicit discussions of how an entire racial caste is being used as grist in a war machine that serves nothing but the vanities of its betters. These things are front and center, not to mention intrinsically tied to Kaladin’s story of what it means to be an honorable person in a society like this. Maybe the answer to that question was always meant to be “the honorable and righteous thing to do is turn the other cheek and rise above it” but even if I’m supposed to accept that as a satisfactory resolution to Kaladin’s arc (which I don’t), I think I could still be forgiven for having assumed the larger themes of racism would continue to play a part in the narrative. 

It’s like you said in the original posts, if the narrative fully acknowledged Kaladin’s contradictions, this could be fine. Having higher status and greater power genuinely can change a person’s values pretty severely, not to mention the Kholins have been kind of grooming him to essentially become one of them. It’s not unreasonable for a character in that position to start empathizing less with other darkeyes and more with other lighteyes. In any caste-based society, your rank is not just determined by how high you personally rise, but also by how many people are categorically beneath you. In this kind of system, is anyone who rises through the ranks inherently a class traitor? What kinds of systemic power does Kaladin have to help other darkeyes? Why isn’t he using that power? What are his limitations there? Solving all of racism isn’t his responsibility either, but this is a character who broke down in tears the first time he was asked to accept he couldn’t save everyone. This stuff should at least weigh on him.

Unfortunately Kaladin’s assimilation in the upper class can never truly be an indictment of him as a person, or a flaw he gets to grapple with, because every other major protagonist is a lighteyes, and if we say it’s bad that Kaladin is becoming more like them, then we have to say that they’re also bad. So we get a Kaladin who criticizes Dalinar and then does everything he says anyway. A Kaladin who sympathizes with the plight of the singers but who still kills them just the same. Or as a much clearer and easier to see example, a Kaladin who makes an effort to understand and relate to Adolin and Shallan, even though they never make the same effort to understand him. Seriously, love to Adolin and Shallan, but even when they’re being supportive friends it’s always “how can we make Kaladin less sad” or “man, Amaram is the worst” and never “wow I had no idea your experiences of racism were so bad, I’m so sorry for having added to them.” Sure, everyone else gets to have the character development of learning to accept a darkeyes as an equal, but ultimately Kaladin always has to be the one to change.

It’s sort of doubly frustrating how so many of Kaladin’s original problems from Way of Kings have just been handwaved away by other characters with no involvement from Kaladin himself. Sadeas is horrible to his slaves? That’s okay, Adolin killed him, he’s gone. The Alethi are protecting Amaram? Well Amaram defected so it’s fine, no one cares if he’s dead now. Roshone? It’s cool, he’s undergone some character development offscreen, so honestly you’d have to be super evil to still hold a grudge at this point. The institutions of princedoms governing this country are awful and abusive? Fortunately the Kholins are all really into honor and self-improvement right now, and they’re such trendsetters that the other highprinces just can’t help but join in as well! Slavery? Jasnah fixed that. Turns out all anyone needed to do was wait for a nicer monarch to take power, no need for him to have gotten uppity, someone was going to get around to ending slavery eventually. And even that doesn’t have to have any consequences, you’d think as in the original post, that there would be a massive labor shortage, but that has literally been magically solved because now you have a bunch of magical knights and magical food and magical gates that fix any logistical issues, which is all to say that the topic of slavery gets to be neatly swept under the rug and it doesn’t have to reflect on any of our characters anymore.

It’s not even that Kaladin doesn’t care about any of these problems you mentioned in the original post. It’s that a lot of these problems have been hurriedly resolved so that Kaladin doesn’t have to care.

As I said before, I really don’t need Sanderson or Kaladin or any other character to solve racism. And honestly, I’d prefer they didn’t, because it’s pretty frustrating to see everyone treating it as if it’s just not a big deal anymore.

I love kaladin but i fucking HAAATE kaladin. As soon as kaladin became upperclass, class struggle no longer mattered to him. You just dont hear about slaves anymore, you dont hear about darkeyes. You would think with the parshmen gone, and the world in turmoil, darkeyed enslavement would be out of control, but we wouldnt fucking know because kaladin doesnt fucking care. Kaladin doesnt care that dalinar has slaves, he doesnt care if he works under a corrupt monarchy, he does as hes told and turns a blind eye, despite being powerful enough now to make change. He contradicts his own morals and it makes me so angry that it almost feels inexcusable to me

[crusty-chronicles]

heey! Good morning/night! So I was thinking about how Kurapika, Feitan and Chrollo would react to their S/O seeking to annihilate all the members of their own family because they think their blood is cursed (in a headcanons form if possible), since whenever someone in their own family gets involved in something this thing It always ends with someone dead/hurt but like on a extreme way. That's why their S/O was so difficult to get close to, and like they are VERY strong, well even if you don't make that request I would like to praise your writing!! 💗💗 (I'm using a translator, so any mistakes I apologize)

Apologies, I don't write for any of the phantom troupe, buuuuuut I do write for Kurapika so these head cannons will be based around him. Thank you 💕

Kurapika With An S/O Who Hunts Down Their Family

—---------------

Cold and calculated.

If you were to ask Kurapika what he thought of you, that's what he would say.

You were always so distant from everybody else. Finding solace in the quiet. Yet you were still very aware of your surroundings.

He'd met you formally as one of Neon’s bodyguards.

You were a blacklist hunter hired for extra help. Your specialty being claiming bounties.

Had he done the research back then, he would've seen that all your targets had one thing in common: they were all related.

But he didn't, and now he was left with the mystery of you.

Why were you here?

What did you gain by helping the Nostrade’s out?

Answers he wouldn't get for a long time.

Not until he'd caught Uvogin and dealt with him, did he learn about your motives.

He was doing his best to suppress his blood lust. Trying to calm himself down before he lashed out. He didn't even notice when you walked in.

Too lost in the feeling of the way blood coated his hands to process your presence.

“This is personal for you, isn't it?” You asked.

It was the first time he's ever heard your voice.

And it had him on edge.

Jumping back in surprise the second it hit his ears. He needed to be alone right now.

One wrong misstep and he'd hurt you.

But you didn't seem afraid. You didn't even acknowledge his disheveled appearance.

Instead taking a step closer.

“Maybe we could help each other out? My next target is someone who owns a pair of Scarlet Eyes.”

His eyes widened before narrowing in hostility. Immediately one of his chains had wrapped around you.

You didn't flinch.

“How do you know about that?” He questioned. His chain tightening around you.

What exactly did you know?

Were you working with someone?

Could you be apart of the troupe?

“You forgot to put your contacts in.”

You gestured towards his eyes.

Oh.

How foolish of him to act so impulsively. He released you. Yet there was a nagging feeling telling him to continue interrogating you.

You knew about the Kurta clan, or at least what happened to it.

And you'd deduced from his reaction that he was connected to them in some way. His own eyes only confirmed it for you.

“I don't plan on being here for long. I'm leaving after the auction. I'll give you some time to think about my offer.” Your voice snapping him from his thoughts.

He already knew his answer, but what he wanted to know was-

“Why?”

“Why would you help me? How does me tagging along benefit you?”

He just couldn't wrap his head around it. What use could he possibly be of to you. Did you just want someone to get their hands dirty for you? Or would this be a true partnership?

“I lost my Hunter license years ago. I unfortunately don't have access to the information I need. And there's places I can't get to without a license,” you explained.

“So you want my license in exchange for information?”

“Not necessarily. I have no desire to keep it. It would just be nice to have some more tools at my disposal. You don't have to say yes. I could always give you the eyes when I'm done.”

No, he needed to be involved. He wouldn't forgive himself if he let someone else avenge his clan, even if it was unintentional.

Thus your partnership began.

You were still distant. Treating your alliance as purely business.

Kurapika didn't mind. It meant he wouldn't get attached to another person. He wouldn't have anyone else to worry about.

But…. there were times when you were warm.

When you allowed yourself to grin so brightly.

When you opened up ever so slightly.

And in those rare moments, he found himself wanting to be close.

When he'd gotten sick in York New, you were taking care of him alongside Leorio.

He remembers the feeling of your hand on his forehead. The coolness of your skin.

He remembers refusing medicine and only accepting when you asked him to.

‘It's for your own good, Kurapika. Please open up.’ your tone cooing.

And he remembers reaching for your hand in his sleep. Awakening blearily to you still grasping it.

In his mind, you were friends to some extent.

He'd looked after you too. The first pair of eyes you collected together, you'd gotten wounded badly by your target.

Bleeding out and yet for some reason, you were dead set on claiming the bounty.

Not stopping until they were dead at your feet. And only then had you collapsed.

He spent days watching over you. Making sure your wounds were clean and stitched up.

A part of him worried he'd lose you.

He couldn't help but scold you when you awoke.

‘Do you have any idea how bad your injuries were? How much blood you lost? Why? Why didn't you just stop?’

You didn't answer him.

Confused as to why he cared so much.

If you died, what did it matter to him?

Maybe a part of you realized your relationship had become more than surface level.

‘I’m sorry,’ you offered.

You were always more careful from then on.

And your trust in the blonde only seemed to grow.

He'd treat your wounds after fights, and you'd take care of his.

When he was overcome with emotion, eyes glowing with his anger, you'd find a way to calm him down. Watching as the red faded little by little.

You should've known something would go wrong.

Things never tended to last when your people were involved.

This target you were chasing was vastly different from your previous ones.

You tried to go it alone, but Kurapika insisted on helping you.

You should've said no.

Your target laid beneath your foot. Kurapika a few feet behind you.

You should've been quicker to end them

But you weren't. You'd had the misfortune of letting them identify you.

An expression of distaste on their features before they spoke.

“So you've finally found me? Some sibling you are.”

You'd immediately taken their life, but the damage had already been done.

“What did they mean by that?” Kurapika questioned. His tone accusing.

“It’s nothing.” You dismissed.

But you'd spent far too much time together for him to fall for it.

“Don't lie to me. All this time.. All this time you were hunting down your family?”

He stood in front of you now, eyes a bright scarlet.

“You don't understand-” You tried to explain.

“What is there to understand!?!” He snapped.

“They're murders!”

“They're your family!”

Did you have any idea what he would have given to spend one last moment with his family? And here you were justifying taking the lives of your own. it made his blood boil.

He trusted you.

“Only by blood. Don't you dare group me in with them!” you screamed.

You refused to be associated with those monsters.

You two stood in silence. You didn't know how to show him the things you'd seen. How to convey the exact opposite of what he was thinking.

He was hurt, that much you could tell.

“Kurapika, they're horrible evil people. Everywhere they go, there's a path of pain and destruction left behind. They're- they're cursed.” You were pleading with him to listen to you. Sounding desperate and crazy in the process.

But you were scared.

Scared of losing him.

“Does that make you cursed? If they're evil, then what does that make you.” He asked. His voice rising as he came closer to you.

“Am I going to end up hurt following you around? Are you gonna end up killing me?”

He was trying to make you see this wasn't the way. That you were going too far by doing this.

You wouldn't hurt him. He knew you wouldn't. If your bloodline was cursed with carnage, surely you would've demonstrated it by now.

“I don't know.” You answered honestly.

“But I have to stop them.” You met his fiery gaze with determination. You weren't backing down.

“You're not like them. Stop while you're ahead.”

Before your anger had consumed you.

“I can't. I thought you of all people would understand that.”

You want to walk past him, stopping when he grabbed your arm.

“Then we'll find another way to stop them.”

He was in too deep with you.

“We?” Your tone was skeptical.

“You still need me right? Justice will prevail. But you cannot stoop to their level to do it.”

Why was he still trying? Why couldn't he just let you go?

“Why do you want to help if what I'm doing goes against your morals.”

You looked up at him once more. The red becoming faded. You could see nothing but a yearning behind his eyes.

“Because you're important to me.”

And you could feel it. The subtle way your heart beat faster.

[flaticeball]

hey! as the first season of connor bedard gets underway i, your local indigenous hockey fan, have a request of you: please don't let this kid's sure to be marvellous and jaw-dropping rookie season make you complacent with the racism of the blackhawks as an organization. it is beyond heinous that they were able to secure the first overall pick this year for a number of reasons i'm sure we're all familiar with, but i am pleading with the hockey community not to let the racism of this org fall through the cracks.

they drafted connor bedard and handed him a jersey with a giant racist caricature on the front. their mascot is named tommy hawk. they continuously fail to curtail their fans' egregious displays of anti-indigenous racism at games.

i'm not going to ask anyone not to post about bedard. i know he's huge news and i'm bummed as all hell that i won't be able to enjoy the beginning of what is sure to be an incredible career myself. but i am asking, given that his presence on the team is likely to increase the prevalence of people making and reblogging posts about the blackhawks, that you please care, loudly and actively, about the racism of this organization and how much it hurts indigenous fans to see that go unquestioned so often.

consider mentioning it in posts. consider amplifying the voices of indigenous fans and community members about the issues of these types of sports organizations. consider reading up on the history of the person they claim to 'honour' with their hideous effigy of a logo. consider censoring the logo in your posts if you are able to (please do this if you are able to). consider tagging posts so that indigenous fans are at the very least able to blacklist that team and not have to see it.

above all, please just. don't forget about it. don't forget about us. we belong here too.

[suzukiblu]

I kind of want to try your method of posting wips a snippet at a time while writing them, but on the other hand I am nervous about it. Can you give me some advice?

I've been trying to nail down the mixed feelings, and this is what I've got so far:

for:

it will get eyes on my fics faster, and I can show off what I've written sooner, instead of needing to finish a whole chapter

it will encourage engagement both in reacting to specific posts and in asking for more

it will be more chances for people to be intrigued and want to read the whole fic

against:

what if I do it and nobody cares?

til now I've been releasing fics a chapter at a time and it would feel weird to change that. inertia and all

what do I do if/when I change something I've written and already posted a snippet of?

it feels weird to post them on my writing blog, which currently only holds finished chapters (and fanart), but if I post them on my main, I feel like they'll get lost and/or I'll miss reactions in my busy activity channel. Where should I post it to? Should I make yet another sideblog?

in direct response to your listed mixed feelings, in my personal experience of writing this way:

for:

it will get eyes on my fics faster, and I can show off what I've written sooner, instead of needing to finish a whole chapter: yes it will, and it feels great! and personally it also helps me keep momentum and helps soften the sting if I drop a fic/chapter later and people don't have much to say about it. I KNOW it's good, other people already told me they liked it!! no, I'm not gonna throw out the whole story because of one mediocre reception, SHUT UP IMPOSTER SYNDROME AND GET BACK IN THE WRITING TRENCHES.

it will encourage engagement both in reacting to specific posts and in asking for more: yes it does, and WAY more people consistently (and more gratifyingly!) engage with me since I've made a habit of posting this way, especially when they're especially interested in a specific WIP over my other ones, and a lot of people just seem to be more engaged and invested in my writing in general. or at least more willing to tell me that they are, if nothing else, haha.

it will be more chances for people to be intrigued and want to read the whole fic: yes it will, and if you post larger scenes and tag them, then more people are likelier to find you/your writing than would if you only post one chapter in the tags however often you update those. also, if you have a fic-specific WIP tag that you link to, it's very easy for people who are just discovering the WIP to go back and catch up all at once ( or for people who aren't into it to blacklist, if that's a concern, as opposed to them feeling like they have to unfollow/block you ).

against:

what if I do it and nobody cares? good news: they probably won't care! at least to start. that's just kinda how it is, to start. I get a lot of engagement because I am REAL prolific and do my best to be responsive, plus I've been updating this blog and in this specific fandom pretty consistently for over a year, and also have also been in online fandom spaces on and off for, like, legit twenty-five years at this point. so I am just very used to being in these spaces, and I also have readers who've followed me for a decade+ or even since I was an actual literal TEENAGER in at least a couple cases, so like, they're already kinda invested in my writing, haha. there are people following this blog who not only read my Inu-Yasha Miroku/Sesshoumaru fanfic back in the day in the Pit of Voles but also still REMEMBER reading my Inu-Yasha Miroku/Sesshoumaru fanfic back in the day in the Pit of Voles, to say nothing of everyone who found me through AtLA or the MCU or the Witcher ( or so, so much Star Wars meta, the Star Wars meta has also definitely been a thing ). also I update my blog pretty consistently and I do writing memes that reward the people who play with me with new content and more progress in their fave WIPs, and also they're technically "voting" for what they wanna see more of, so that also adds to them feeling engaged/invested and me feeling motivated/energized, because they feel like they've affected the growth and progress of the story ( which they have ) and I feel like they're enjoying the story and genuinely appreciate it ( which they do! ). so everyone wins!

til now I've been releasing fics a chapter at a time and it would feel weird to change that. inertia and all: yeah that is the sunk-cost fallacy trying to fuck you up and you can and should tell it to fuck off. if you try it and you don't like the change, you can just stop doing it. you're free! no one can stop you!! hit the bricks, do your thing, the past is gone and it is NOT in charge of your ass! your ass is all yours!! whatever, we do what we want! I am in fact giving you explicit PERMISSION to do what you want.

what do I do if/when I change something I've written and already posted a snippet of?: then you've changed something! if it's a major change, you can repost the updated scene or mention you're making a change in a separate post or just say there's been a significant change when you post the chapter and therefore people who've already read the WIP posts might wanna reread it, but personally I change and tweak and fiddle with stuff I've already posted all the time. usually it's just bits of phrasing or formatting or adding in little details to round stuff out or correct mistakes, or to clarify things that confused people or that I forgot about, but sometimes it's adding multiple paragraphs or even additional little scenes. it's absolutely a thing I do and a thing that I consider fair play. you're literally posting "work-in-progress" excerpts, it is in the NAME that stuff might/will change or be adjusted. shit, if you feel like it, throw the whole story out and start over with a 2.0 WIP tag!! art is meant to be fucked with!!!!

it feels weird to post them on my writing blog, which currently only holds finished chapters (and fanart), but if I post them on my main, I feel like they'll get lost and/or I'll miss reactions in my busy activity channel. Where should I post it to? Should I make yet another sideblog?: the past is gone! you are free!! it's a writing blog that is for your writing and you can write whatever you want on it. the rules are made up and the points don't matter!! if you want a WIP blog too, you can totally start a WIP blog too, but you also don't have to feel obligated to bloat your sideblog collection or to have to go to all the effort of building up a brand-new following for a brand-new blog when there's already people who followed another blog of yours specifically for your writing. it's your writing blog. it's for your writing. write on it how you please!! if you're SUPER-concerned about the change, include a specific tag on all your WIP snippets that people can just blacklist if they only wanna see your full finished updates. for example I use "rintalk" so people can skip my random talky posts/asks if they wanna but also won't accidentally be filtering out anything they DO wanna see from anyone else on their dash; they can specifically avoid just mine. so like, maybe "octo WIPs" or "nb WIPs" or just whatever you're into would work for you, or just something like that.

unrelated to your for/against: posting stuff like this is not an approach that'll give everyone the same results or even WORK for everyone, obviously, but it works for me because again, I'm prolific, responsive, tend to follow my readers' interests, and have been doing this a lonnnggggg time and have built up an audience both from past fandoms and in specifically DC fandom. and also I'm super, super ADHD. definitely also because of the ADHD. there is . . . there is just so much ADHD lol.

but yeah, like, I'm pretty sure I've been updating pretty consistently for the past . . . what, year or so of DC-hyperfixation? something like that?? I've also published over 300k to AO3 in that time and GOD knows how much more word count I've put up on Tumblr, so like . . . tl;dr, I absolutely think you should give it a try and see if it works for you/if you like it, I just also wanna include the caveat that you shouldn't be discouraged if you don't get an immediate return on or big response to said try. like, I dunno what your followers are like or how much they talk to you, obvi, but I personally had to kind of . . . cultivate, basically? I had to cultivate the communication and the back-and-forth, it didn't just happen immediately. we have cultivated, all of us here, hahaha.

for actual practical excerpt-posting advice, generally speaking, the best start I've found for starting out with posting a WIP as you write it is to take, like, the starting scene of the fic/chapter up until either a narratively-interesting/satisfying end point ( or better yet, a cliffhanger ) and post that as a WIP excerpt in the relevant tags. then you're likelier to introduce the story to new people and bring them by your blog to see more, and they'll come in both primed for and LOOKING for WIP excerpts. then, you know, you can post subsequent scenes or bits in chronological order, ideally. personally when I do WIP Wednesday or anything like that, I don't tag little posts like those in the main tags, just with a WIP tag specific to their story ( which, like, obvi you know I have those, haha, I know you've been around MORE than long enough and even if you hadn't pretty sure I already mentioned them somewhere up there anyway, I'm just being thorough ), but anything that's pushing 400-500 words or longer gets fully tagged with ships/characters/fandom/etc and gets chrono/non-chrono links included in the post and then sent out into the world as my lil' story ambassador, haha. just, you know, use a cut or at least a "long post" tag if it's much longer than that, because like, Tumblr manners and all, hah.

ummmmm . . . so yeah idk how much of that was helpful for you, obviously, but if you have follow-up questions or anything, feel free to hit me up, I'm always down for those and I'll do my best to answer!

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Lena Horne (Cabin in the Sky, Stormy Weather)— Incredibly talented biracial actress, singer, dancer, and activist (she did so much work towards integrating audiences). Because of the racism of the era, she rarely got to be the lead actress but filmmakers loved her so much that they would often create stand alone segments within a film to highlight her beautiful singing, knowing that these segments would ultimately be cut from the film by censors in areas that forbid films with Black performers. Also, she's just so wonderful in Cabin in the Sky as a gold-digger villain who is not the least bit subtle about her intentions. I would highly recommend checking out her work.

Jane Fonda (Barbarella, Sunday in New York, Barefoot in the Park)—Feminist icon, LGBTQ+ rights activist since the 70s, Civil Rights and Native American rights advocate, environmentalist… she really is THE woman ever

This is round 4 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Lena Horne:

Black American powerhouse singer and actor who faced all the usual bullshit that any BIPOC faced in vintage Hollywood and achieved legendary status anyway. Also a Civil Rights movement icon.

She was a gem

She was so beautiful and those dimples are amazing! Truly depressing how badly Hollywood treated her because she was black. I would love to have seen what she really could have been if they didn’t cast her in so many yikes roles. She’s got gorgeous eyes and that body! Her joyful smile makes happiness sexy!

Civil rights actress, singer, dancer, actress, she's got the whole package

Lena Horne was a wonderful singer and actress who largely starred in black cast musicals. While she had a lot of main stream success, she ultimately lost the lead role in showboat (a role she had played on the stage) to a white actress due to hollywood's prejudices. She was also blacklisted during the HUAC hearings, but she still managed to be hot be hot as fuck and have a career spanning decades, working with more well-known stars like Judy Garland in musicals, and working on stage and releasing albums when her hollywood career began to suffer.

Miss Horne became famous during a period of time when Hollywood had very few meaningful roles for people of color. Although she is more so known as a performer, she starred in two successful all black productions (Cabin in the Sky & Stormy Weather). If that wasn't enough, she also guest starred on the Muppets (Season 1, Episode 11)

Jane Fonda:

" I assume she's already been submitted but I gotta make sure. I think there's an element to movies like Barbarella or her segment of Spirit of the Dead of those having been directed by her husband, who famously made movies about her being hot, and the incredible costume design also helped, but good lord. Look at her"

"She was so pretty, dear lord! She was and still us stunning. She’s great at comedy and drama."

"Shes so hot im so gay for me i will let her hit me with hers car"

"Gorgeous and also still getting arrested at climate protests, which is sexy behavior"

"Watching her in Barefoot in the Park seriously made me, a straight woman, question things"

"PLEASE I LOVE HER SO MUCH"

"Her vibes in these movies are so interesting because she, the daughter of an Old Hollywood star, went on to make both poignant dramatic movies and the some of the silliest things you've ever seen but even in the silly space adventures and sexploitations there's always this undeniable gravitas to her. It's like she's able not to take herself very seriously but at the same time never stops having this grace and elegance and makes it all work together. And she's always been very politically active which is also sexy. Her famous mugshot is from 1970 so right at the cutoff mark but come on"