#made the last one its own post but i wanted them all grouped together

[cambriancutie]

#normal #girl

[crescenthistory]

Hi I really love your fics and was hoping to send in a request! I was thinking a fem!reader who’s also a swan animagus, and partners with any or all of the marauders (minus Pete). She’s a very clumsy person, constantly stubbing her toes and bumbing into corners and walls, so when the boys find out that her animagus form is something so graceful they’re just baffled. That’s all I got really, so with that as you please if you please ❤️

this was such a sweet request darling, thank you so much<3 i made this into a general view of what her animagus process looked like + the boys' reactions to what she became

Words: 3.5k

Warnings: fem!reader, use of y/n, remus' pov, loads of anxiety and fearing for safety of a loved one, post-hogwarts with references to oncoming political turmoil but it is not canon compliant, reader is regulus' best friend, flirty bullying lol, mostly fluff and some hurt/comfort

Note: this is my first official poly!marauders fic, and i absolutely adore writing their dynamic

When you began your animagus journey, Remus was unsure of what to expect.

Back when James, Sirius and Peter did it, none of their animagus figures came as a surprise, the picturesque manifestations of the personalities Remus had come to love. Sirius, the loyal guard dog, looming and intimidating in your periphery or on the battlefield, but playful and loving by the fire in his own home. James, the noble and brave Head Boy turned stag, equal parts beautiful and fierce, able to balance out and maintain the worst and best in the rest of the boys. Peter, the quiet and mousy dry-humoured boy they came to love much in the same way you love your pet rat, slippery and smart, able to wield what he has to his advantage. All of it made sense to Remus, which provided a balm for the anxiety that settled in his chest at the thought of the lengths his friends and partners were willing to go for him.

With you though, nothing seemed to make sense. Never really had, it was just right somehow.

You came in later in the Gryffindor friend group, a year younger than the rest of them and best friends with Regulus. It was seemingly a buy one, get two deal when Regulus was finally able to escape the Black household and join Sirius at Potter Manor at last. He refused to leave you behind, knowing all too well what it felt like. Neither Sirius nor James could argue with that, and Remus quickly found he didn't want them to.

No, because when you were integrated into the friend group, hesitant for a mere second – mostly out of respect for Regulus it seemed – before allowing your full personality to prosper at its natural breadwidth, Remus was infatuated. You weasled your way into his heart, knocking against every surface on the way there, leaving him breathless.

He was beyond relieved to look at his two boys – his two lovely boys – and see the same longing in their eyes.

In a relationship that already housed a half-blood half-breed, a disgraced son of a most ancient and noble house and a blood-traitor himbo-jock, Remus had not fathomed there would be room for one more. Until that one was you in all your clumsy-bodied warm-hearted glory – then suddenly, it was unfathomable not to have you.

Despite his shock, Remus found himself quite pleased when finally sat in your shared flat a year after Hogwarts, with you held securely in his arms while Sirius and James were commuting home together from their apprenticeships as aurors at the Ministry. The picture of domesticity. The life he never dared imagine. With your scent filling his nose and your cheek pressed against the skin of Remus' throat, he was sure there was nothing else he could ask for.

"I did something today," you murmured absentmindedly then, trailing patterns on his arm, careful not to snag him with the edge of your nail that broke a few hours earlier that he had not bothered filing down yet.

"Mhm, and what was that, dove?" he replied in the same tone, only half-paying attention as he drowsed in the warmth of you.

"I applied to become an animagus."

Suddenly, Remus was no longer tired nor warm nor comfortable nor nuzzled into your hair as he jerked back to look at you in shock.

"You did what?" His voice somehow didn't convey his immediate turmoil, but he's sure his eyes did as you bit your lip sheepishly.

"I applied with the Ministry to become an animagus," you restated as if it was the simplest thing in the world. "Dumbledore's suggestion. Though if one person in our household is properly registered, it could be easier to avoid any suspicion should the order need you to utilise it more often."

The rest of the night was spent with you explaining what was surely a sound and reasonable plan, but that still lit Remus' veins alight with fire. As was the next few weeks, awaiting the pending response, spent with you and James – who quickly jumped onboard, eager to support you – reassuring Remus and in part Sirius that the plan was sound and reasonable and you would be fine.

"Honestly, I'm beginning to think you have zero faith in me," you joked one evening when you were all cuddled up on the sofa.

"It's not that I don't trust you, dovey," Remus began despondently.

Sirius preferred to cut to the chase with a deadpan. “We just prefer for our darling girl who has never once gone a day without a single bruise to not be undertaking dangerous magical transformations that largely depend upon precision.”

"I have gone a day," you muttered petulantly at that, to which James began rubbing your arms up and down whispering something in your ear about "pick battles we can win, angel".

Remus smiled a bit hesitantly at the sight of his two loves sat opposite him, while he himself was currently held in Sirius' arms and unable to see his face. He could, however, feel the tension in his grip though, likely at the thought of all that could go wrong.

"I understand why it has to be done," Remus started. "And you know I support you always, dove. I just can't help but worry."

You cooed at what Remus was sure was a slight pout on his face before leaning forward out of James' arms to kiss it off him. At that, a genuine smile spread across his lips and into your kiss, breathing you in as a sign of defeat.

"I may stumble, but I can do difficult things, my love," you whispered, brushing your thumbs over his cheekbones. "And with you here, I'll always be alright, won't I?"

"I suppose," Remus faux grumbled, to which James leaned forward to ruffle his hair.

"You are so cute," James all but exclaimed. "So, so cute."

"Alright Jamie, that's enough of that," Remus tried but James kept on playing with his hair, though with slower movements.

"Look at you caring for our little clutz." You let out an undignified "hey" at that. "With big Moony on watch, we will never have to worry."

"And big Padfoot!" Sirius exclaimed from behind Remus, causing the latter to roll his eyes fondly at the boy's not-so-fake fear of missing out.

James caught it too with a hearty laugh, slipping off the sofa to slide to the floor beside Sirius with a soft "of course, baby" before littering his face with a sickening amount of kisses.

As Remus watched you giggle, he pulled you closer. Sickening indeed he thought as he stared down at you with overwhelming love in his throat.

The cycle of worry and reassurance continued well into the animagus process when your application was approved, which Remus suspected Dumbledore also had a hand in. Though, for these, you often couldn't reassure him as much with your words, with the mandrake leaf and everything, but James was your perfect advocate, speech ready on his lips, and your hand never strayed far from Remus' body, keeping his anxiety at bay.

When you fell down the stairs one day or when you ran into doors, Remus' breath caught in his throat like never before, the implications of your clumsiness far more prominent than ever before. You were always alright, and Remus knew he just had kept telling himself that until it was over.

You're alright, you're alright, you're alright. A mantra, a prayer.

"She will be alright, right Siri?" A broken sob into his lover's chest on nights you were away to complete the process.

"Always, always, always." A murmured response that weighed a tonne in his chest.

He never did tell you about those nights, he knew you didn't deserve the guilt or the fretting that would overtake you at the knowledge, not when you were doing something to support your loves, your family, your cause. He could never tell you that while you, in all your clumsy chaos, was being brave, he was being a coward.

And you never did tell him that you knew, that you saw, but you held him closer the nights following them.

While one the precipice of oncoming political collapse, one is rarely allowed full reprieve from anxiety, but Remus found himself washed with immeasurable relief and calm when the front door opened on the final night and he heard two sets of boots and laughter as you and James walked into your flat.

The lightning storm in the background required for the final night of the process was still raging outside, but your flat might as well be on another planet for all Remus cared because you were inside, you were alright and you were laughing. 

Only James could follow you to it, as you had to go through the very final bit alone and Sirius convinced Remus you should be surrounded with calm and reassurance before you took those last steps alone. He agreed, always wanting what was best for you, but it did not help his roaring fears to not be able to go with you.

Thus, the homebound boys immediately shot up at the sound from where they had been anxiously perched on each their chair in the living room, running towards the front door. The latter placed his hand pacifyingly on Remus' shoulder, a silent I'm here, it's alright, she’s alright.

You were.

You were alright.

You were also being laughed at, they now realised.

Chucking off your boots, drenched to the core with hair plastered to your face, you looked awfully displeased with James who - equally as drenched but thrice as enthusiastic - was bent over against the wall, face scrunched up with delight. Remus supposed some of the water drops trailing down his face were actually tears of laughter.

"It's not that funny, James," you grumbled, but the twitch in your lips gave away that perhaps it was.

Ignoring whatever petty squabble for half a minute, Sirius swept you up in a hug and twirled you around, the squelch of your clothes and your own giggle filling the room. "My love!" he exclaimed with glee. "Oh you did it my darling, you did it."

Remus walked towards your embrace with reverence, laughing a bit wetly with relief. You looked at him with so much love in your eyes he wasn't sure if he could take it – and then you opened your arm to invite him into your hug, and he knew he couldn't.

With a shaky breath, Remus let himself fall into you with a few tears rolling down his face and an immense smile across his lips. He murmured some sweet nothings into your hairline that not even he could quite make out.

Pulling back just enough to see your now-wide grin, he kissed you searingly in the exact way he had dreamed of doing on this day.

Safe in his arms, at last.

At the thought, he could almost hear you whisper back that you always were.

"Thank you," Remus whispers against your lips. "Thank you."

"What for?" you laugh back into him.

He opens his eyes to gaze warmly into yours. "For being okay. For being brave."

A soft cooing sound escaped you as you gave him another lingering kiss that seemed to promise you always will be. He felt Sirius' lips drift between each of your foreheads, an eternal comfort in all of Remus' worry, even when he had his own.

"Is this the part where you lie to me and say you knew I could always do it?" you tease as you look between the two boys pressed up against you.

At the same time, Sirius gives you a resounding "yes" while Remus shakes his head at you with a laugh.

"It's not a lie," he begins, continuing despite your light scoff. "I always knew you could, you can do anything you set your mind to. I just love you too much not to freak out about the what ifs."

"You absolute sap," Sirius laughs at him, resulting in you slapping his arm lightly in defence of Remus.

"Do you disagree with him?" you question with a raised brow, challenging smile tugging at your lips.

Sirius' humour was washed away to be replaced with soft fondness. "Of course not, doll."

Behind you, James cleared his throat.

The three of you turned around to see your final boy leaning against the wall, admiration written clearly across his face as he took in the picture before him with heart eyes. It didn't escape Remus, though, that you tensed in his arms beside him nor that James had one of his most mischievous smiles across his face.

"Yeah, angel, we are all super duper proud of you now and forever and always." James says it in a way that makes Remus suspicious he has already told you as much a hundred times over while you were out together. "Now can we skip to the fun bit?"

You groan, throwing your head back against Sirius' shoulder – who whispered a petulant ow! – and promptly pulled out of their grasp. Remus tried to focus on whatever bit was about to come from James to ignore the feeling of loss.

"Fine, but I am going to need so much flattery from you after this relentless bullying, Mister." You threatened as you pointed your wand at James, first in replacement of an accusatory finger, and then to vanish the water from his person. You did yourself the same favour, then grabbed Remus' hand to direct your boys to the living room and its wonderful fireplace that Sirius kept alive for you while you were gone.

"You know I will, baby!" James called after you as he grabbed some water bottles from the fridge on the way to follow you, handing one to you unprompted.

"Now? What's so funny?" Sirius asked impatiently as he perched himself on the end of the sofa, directly in front of where you and Remus stood before the fire.

James' grin came back in full force as he looked at you devilishly. "Can I be the one to tell them?" At least he had the decency to ask you.

"You're the one who thinks it's so bloody funny, so you ought to." Remus chuckled at you, pulling you closer into his side, protecting you from James for once.

"So we all know that your lovely, lovely girl here does not have the best track record when it comes to, you know, general spatial awareness?"

Sirius barked a laugh at that and Remus had to pull you back from kicking his shin, resulting in you stumbling slightly. You shot him a half-hearted glare that seemed to scream don't prove his point!

"Yeah," Remus agreed readily, shooting you a smug smile at the betrayal.

"I have yet to meet a table she can outsmart." Sirius nodded solemnly.

This all seemed to excite James even further. "Right! Or a cart she can't run over her foot, or a door handle she can't smash against her hip, or a staircase that won't make her eat-"

"Okay, okay!" You threw your hands up in defeat. "We get your point, Jamie, gods."

James' smile almost turned rueful, but your cute expression was not really helping your case here. Remus couldn't blame him as James reached out to pinch at your chin.

"And we love you all the more for it, angel, really."

"Yeah, yeah," you grumbled, waving his hand away and placing more weight against Remus. "Get to it, Potter."

"Moony, Pads," James said, looking at them with levity, as if he was about to disclose serious news. "Our beautiful little klutz is a swan animagus."

There was silence for two seconds, as Sirius' jaw fell on the floor and Remus' eyes widened. Remus regretted to disclose that he was the first to break it as he snorted a laugh, prompting Sirius to immediately match James' previous hysterics, clapping his hands together.

"No way!" he laughed as you crossed your arms in further petulance.

"A swan?" Remus questioned with mirth to no one in particular.

"A swan!" James confirmed excitedly.

"And what about it?" you grumbled, stepping back so you could more easily glare at all three boyfriends at once. "What's so so funny about it?"

"It's nothing, dove, it's just-" Remus' placating was undercut by him laughing through it "- swans are know to be, like, elegant."

"I can be elegant!" you retorted. Sirius just snorted at you. "I can be!" you continued, nodding your head in that endearing way you do when you try to insist.

"You certainly look elegant," James relented. "But, my absolute love, you are anything but."

"Again, stairs." Sirius said it as if the word "stairs" in and of itself was an argument. Knowing your past, it most certainly was.

"Grace and elegance are often considered opposites of clumsiness and incoordination, dovey," Remus explained.

"I know that," you seethed in response, but the fight was already running out of you.

"It's just a tad bit ironic, isn't it?" James fought to calm his laughter.

Sirius did no such thing. "Understatement of the year, Prongs."

"Maybe the grace my animagus refers to has something to do with my inner grace in handling you lot," you grumbled, to which James cooed – effectively not helping his case. "And they represent wisdom and understanding, not to mention that they bite so you watch yourselves now." Your glare was withering as you couldn't help but laugh a little at your own joke.

With another breath of laughter, Sirius rose from his seat to reach for you in a hug, but you stepped out of the way. "No hugs for rude boys," you said simply.

"Oh, come on dollface, let me appreciate our little swan." You put up little effort as Sirius tucked you under his chin, chest still rumbling with laughter. “I just cannot believe you're a swan, baby."

"I can," Remus said, letting affection take over the humour in his voice once more. "They represent love too, you know."

James' face scrunched up in laughter as he roughly pulled the wolf into his arms, squeezing him tightly. "You're killing me, Moons, you can't say stuff like that."

"Why the hell not?" Remus grumbled all the while holding James tighter, eyes trained on you and Sirius.

"Because I’ll love you too much." At that, Remus laughed, kissing James' cheek softly.

"Regardless of any humour and irony, you did something incredibly difficult, dove. We're so proud of you." This was not just placation, Remus believed it with his whole chest. You could evidently tell as you almost shied into Sirius' chest.

James walked his embrace with Remus towards you and Sirius, so you were all standing close to one another in front of the sparkling fire.

"Is it okay to say I'm really proud of myself too?" you asked then with a slight self-conscious smile.

Sirius shut down any insecurity with the searing kiss he pressed to your forehead. "Of course, baby. It would be a tragedy if you weren't."

Remus could feel James tilt his head in thought. He couldn't help but pry. "What is it, Prongs?"

"Just that," James began. "Because of our animagi, I'm Prongs and Sirius is Padfoot. But you've always called Y/N dove just because – and now she is a bird, so should we all call her that now? It's not the same bird, but close?"

"No," Remus and you said quickly and shared a small smile. "Dove is mine, you lot can find your own bird-name for her," he teased.

James just laughed. "The possessive streak runs deep in this wolf, huh?"

"What nicknames can be derived from a swan then?" Sirius wondered out loud. "White Wing sounds too much like a superhero name."

"We are not calling me White Wing." You laughed, leaning your head on Sirius' shoulder. "I quite like what you've always called me. If we need a codename later we can come up with it then."

Remus was sure his irises could melt from how soft his gaze on you felt. "Sure thing, dovey. Tonight we just do whatever you want to celebrate."

Your smile was relaxed in that domestic, beautiful way that Remus felt the urge to frame. "We're already doing it. Just being with you three."

"Sap," Sirius whispered in your ear, accidentally tickling you, causing you to giggle and twist in his arms.

As Remus' body shook with both his and James' laughter, he knew that you had once again gone and done everything he never expected. If he was lucky, you would do that for the rest of his life – and that is what would make it good."Oh, I have to go tell Regulus!" Sirius exclaimed, running off - with you hot on his heel.

[dragonsfictavern]

Without Much Spoken

Astarion x gn!Reader

a/n: My first attempt at posting for bg3 and Astarion. But I plan to continue posting many more fics for not only this lil guy, but for a lot of the party! So stick around!

summary: During one night of your groups travels together, Astarion enters the room to find you overwhelmed and crying. Acting before thinking it through, Astarion comforts you.

word count: 1.1k

Walking up the stairs of the Inn their group was staying in for the next couple of days, Astarion opens the door as he normally would, heading to bed after the exhausting day that had finally, at last, ended. He was more than ready to plop into bed and fall into a hopefully dreamless sleep. His only true escape that lasted far few hours.

But as soon as the door creaked open, a small sliver of light shining through, your sobs broke through the silence like a fierce screech. They stopped a moment after, the silence even more heavy and the tension growing thick the longer neither of you speak.

Astarion opens the door, only a bit further. Enough for the light from the hall to catch on your features. Your frozen, having fled to isolation in order to prevent this. To stop anyone from seeing you, to not bother anyone else with the weight of your intensely hyperactive feelings. Especially him. God, you didn’t want to bother him with this.

Astarion was always good for a light joke, a quick quip. He was good at that. At making things feel lighter, even unintentionally making you feel better at times. But that’s not what you wanted right now. You didn’t want to feel better in that way, you didn’t want to attempt to push aside your emotions for another, you didn’t want to just forget about what you felt. You needed to let out what was overwhelming you. What twisted your gut with anxiety, what made it hard to breathe, what sent your body into overdrive, what clouded your mind and made you feel like a complete mess.

You needed it out, and you knew Astarion wasn’t typically the one to go to with that sort of thing. You never held it against him, you cared for him, you may even love him. But you knew he had little to no experience in the ways of comforting someone. Knew he didn’t really know how to do that. So, in an action you convinced herself was selfless, you didn’t confide in him. Didn’t give him the chance to offer whatever type of comfort he possibly could provide.

And Astarion knew it all and more. With his past, he knew how to read people easily. Learning how others think was vital in his line of work, in his everyday life, in his survival… Reading you always seemed a little bit easier for him to do than it was with others. He could see what you were trying to do. The way your body stiffened on the bed, the tears both dried and fresh on your cheeks, the way your hands clenched as if you wished the ground would swallow you whole.

Astarion didn’t feel any particular way about this revelation. He could see your reasoning, your line of thinking and what brought you to the conclusions you ended up at. So he honestly couldn’t explain why he reacted the way he did.

His hand shuts the door, encompassing you both back into darkness without thought. His feet move toward you on their own. Though the darkness surrounds you both, both of your eyes end up adjusting again. You can see the way Astarion stops at the edge of the bed, his form hovering over your curled frame on the bed.

It’s without a word that he slides into bed behind you, his back resting comfortably against the headboard. His legs spread wide, giving you enough space to sit between them. His hands softly curl around you, not trying to overwhelm you even more. One hand around your stomach, feeling the erratic breaths you take as you attempts to hide your cries. The other hand over your heart, feeling its pounding rhythm, both from the mix of emotions that sent you to this state and from him finding you here. He didn’t need to do this, his hearing being able to pick it up well enough on its own. But for some reason he needed the reassurance. That it was all real.

He pulls you into his chest and you don’t hesitate to fall against him, putting your weight on him. He isn’t doing this to prove anything to you. To prove he can comfort you, if you needed him to. No, he isn’t going to make you come to him and he’s not going to make you hide. He doesn’t know why he’s done this. He just… did. Wanted to. It’s all he can grasp onto.

The feeling of him being there was enough, you realize. It had taken so much energy to try and remain still after Astarion found you, but now that he was here and he’s staying, you can’t hold it in any longer. It physically pained you beyond explanation. Sobs broke out of you, the action moving your body with its force. You couldn’t control it.

Astarion just sits there, not saying anything and not really doing anything either. But it’s more than enough. You didn’t realize how being alone had made everything so much worse. You thought that being alone, having nothing around that could possibly add to your array of emotions was what was best for you. But as you two laid together, you noticed the way Astarion didn’t add anything. The way he could actually help in ways everyone else just couldn’t seem to.

Eventually you begin to calm down, your body shaking but your emotions releasing and leaving you. That’s when you feel Astarion’s hand on the back of your head. You jump slightly, but besides that, you don’t dare acknowledge it. His hand gently starts combing through your hair. Then when he reaches the end, he brings it back to the top of your head. You sigh heavily, falling into him further. The peace of the empty silence, the darkness that covers everything, washes over you both. Neither of you seem to want to break it.

You tilt your head ever so slightly, hoping he doesn’t stop. The gesture was doing wonders to help calm you down further. You can barely make out Astarion through the darkness, but you can see enough to tell he’s simply staring ahead. It’s then you realize that he probably hadn’t even noticed what he’s doing to you. How he’s actually comforting you. It sends waves of pleasure through you, working both to overwhelm you a bit more and yet also calming you. You fall back, fully resting on him once again as he, in a way, pets you. Your eyes seemingly closed on their own.

It’s only after an unknown amount of time that he murmurs in your ear, “I’m here.”

[prokopetz]

The next revision of the playtest draft for Eat God is now up. This version includes all of the missing rules from the previous version – advancement, Progress and Calamity Clocks, etc. – as well as numerous expansions and clarifications; the game is now considered feature-complete, though it still needs worked examples, pre-made scenarios, and a whole pile of Big Stupid Tables™.

The most noteworthy addition to this draft, however, is (mostly) complete character creation rules. All but one of the remaining blanks have been filled in, and many Traits have been revised to make them more flexible and add a few interesting new rules toys. You can more easily stat up horrible little gargoyles, there's a little something for the hypno kink crowd, and also you can be a (very small) werewolf now.

(The one remaining blank alluded to above with that "mostly" is the 36th Trait, which I'm leaving off for now because I can't decide exactly what to slot in there and I don't want to spin my wheels on that any longer; for now it just reads "reroll".)

Last but not least, Eat God now has a cover illustration, thanks to the very talented @magpiemalarkey. We decided to be forthright about the game's inspirations; for legal reasons, the depicted characters are not Muppets. (To be clear, only the illustration is their work; the text design for the game's title is a placeholder I threw together myself using a commercial font, so don't blame them for that part.)

As always, questions, criticisms, and bizarre rants are welcome – and if you'd like to give it a spin but don't have a group, character creation is its own little self-contained minigame, and all you need is six-sided dice to give it a try; feel free to post your creations in the notes!

You can find the latest revision at the links above, or below:

https://penguinking.com/eat-god/

[heya-dollface]

What to look for when making Long Hair for Dolls - The Differences in 100% Acrylic Yarns

Hey lovely doll peeps, hope you're having a good day! So over in the Dollblr community here on Tumblr, some people had some questions regarding making doll hair out of acrylic yarn. So I took some time to grab some yarn from my stash and lay out what I know about working with it. It was helpful there, so now I'm copying the post over here so you all can enjoy it and use its knowledge for your own doll needs. That said, if you're interested in the Dollbllr community, go reach out to @plasma-packin-peep/@peepersponies to see about getting an invite. It's a really sweet group of people from what I've experienced so far. <3

Let me give you a quick summary of about five years worth of learning to work with this material.

Welcome to my desk! Before you are five different yarns from my stash. All of these are 100% acrylic. As you can see, acrylic yarn comes in a wide variety of sizes and softness, and while I can do the same things to all of them, they will behave slightly differently. My favorites of this bunch are the Yarn Bee True Colors and the Charisma. Yarn Bee is the native brand to Hobby Lobby, and Charisma I've found at Michaels. Loops & Threads and Hometown, which aren't pictured here, other brands I've enjoyed working with in their thicker fiber variants, also over at Michaels.

The common wisdom in the doll community is that you use 100% acrylic because it's a synthetic fiber that can handle heat. That means it can handle a flat iron or curling wand without melting, which is what makes it look similar to real human hair on this scale. I haven't tested a ton in the way of other fibers. But one of my dolls, Sass here, uses a combination of 100% acrylic yarn and a yarn that's part acrylic, part nylon, and I wanna say part spandex? It's been like 4 years since I made this guy, and that yarn's label is lost, but you can see that the nylon yarn sticks out a little. It doesn't flat iron nicely into a fluffy, realistic hair, it's more stringy. So useful to know if you want that look!

So here's what we're going to do. I've taken all of the yarns pictured and taken them apart to show you how much fiber I lose on an average yarn prep. I'm gonna show you what that looks like from left to right. My method is to cut my yarn, unravel each strand by hand, then take a wire pet brush to it to smooth it out. Instead of tying my yarn to a hanger or hoop, I hold it in my hand, brush through the yarn gently until I'm halfway through, then flip it and go after it from the other side. This is good for ensuring that my length is preserved. Whatever fiber gets stuck in the pet brush, I then take out, mush together, and brush through again so that I have more yarn hair to work with. After that, I will take a flat iron to it and then brush through one more time, but I'm not showing those last two steps here. That said, sometimes flat ironing does lead to losing more fiber, so that is something to consider.

Let's start with that big chonker. This is also a Yarn Bee yarn, and it's probably ideal for an easy time getting your hair unraveled. I have yet to use this one on a doll, truth be told I got it on clearance and haven't figured out who the color would suit. It's very easy to pull apart and work with, and as you can see, it retains a lot of its length.

Next is the True Colors. This stuff is so soft, which is why it's my preference, and while it can be easy to tear apart, you can still retain a lot of length if you're gentle. Like look at the far right, that's all the fiber I took out of the pet brush and mushed back together. It's still a pretty sizable amount of yarn fiber to work with!

The Charisma is a similar story. Something you've probably noticed is that not all yarns have the same amount of strands when pulled apart. I tend to see 2 to 4 on average when I'm prepping yarn. This is a two strander, and once again, it's soft and delightful. Highly recommend going to a physical store and touching your yarn before your buy it. The softer stuff is my preference given how much I'm holding and touching it.

This yarn from Mainstay I got on clearance at Walmart, and it's actually quite soft to the touch! As you can see, our strands are getting thinner here, which is harder to unravel with your fingers. I loose a lot of length when brushing through yarn like this, and it's hard to mush the fibers back together. Yarn like this is incredibly common, and I'll be honest, I don't love working with it. ^^''' But it may be perfect for your project needs! All depends on what you want in a yarn. If you're looking to give a doll a wavy/curled hair without having to curl it yourself, just unraveling and plugging a lot of these in might be for you!

I don't remember where this seafoam green yarn came from, but I think it might be yarn marketed for making baby clothes. It's very thin, and it knots a little at the ends when you unravel it, which is frustrating. I managed to preserve and reconstruct pretty well with this fiber, but the amount of hassle it takes to get through this for a full head of doll hair is very aaaahhh. Like I said, maybe this works for your project. I tend to save this kind of yarn for stuff like accents rather than the main hair color, just because it takes so long to work with.

And there you have it! Those are my notes about brushing out doll hair! As a quick aside, you don't have to brush out yarn in order for it to be beautiful. Sometimes I like to only unravel it and use it that way, like with my recent fairy doll here. She uses a blend of two True Colors yarns and I wanna say a Charisma for the white. There's even a pink and white yarn in here that I didn't brush out, I just boiled and then froze it around a foam curler and threw it in for more texture, though it's a bit tough to spot in this photo.

At the end of the day, you can use just about any acrylic yarn for your project, the question is really what are you willing to put up with. I know myself, I know that I can put on a movie or chat with friends as I'm unraveling a thicker fiber yarn and then brush it out another time and have it be tolerable. That works for me. As you can see, a staple of my dolls is having really long, soft yarn hair, so it makes sense that this is what I gravitate towards. XD

But maybe you want something different out of your yarn experience. That's fine too! The best thing you can do is experiment to see what you like. Do what makes you happy! There is no wrong way to customize your dolls (so long as you're not putting yourself or others in danger). Go have fun, be kind to yourself, and be safe in handling your materials. And of course, if you have any questions, feel free to ask! I've been customizing since November of 2018, and I love chatting about this art form. To my beginners especially, there is no such thing as a stupid question, don't be afraid to ask for help if you're unsure of where to go.

Here's wishing you all a wonderful day, and happy customizing! <3

[sxcret-garden]

2nd Desire ღ Tie Me Down [M]

ღ Aspects of Desire series ღ Ateez Jongho x fem!reader ღ feat.: Yeosang ღ words: ~5.1k ღ genre: established relationship, college AU, fluff, some humor, slice of life, smut (dom!Jongho, sub!reader, reader masturbating and asking to be punished for it, reader’s hands tied together, he’s a bit mean but goes soft dom when reader shows signs of discomfort, strength kink, fingering, some body worship, teasing, begging, unprotected sex) ღ warnings: (him running his hand through reader’s hair)

Desc.: Lost in your excitement over the recent development in your relationship with your boyfriend Jongho, you try to tickle more of his dominant side out of him. When he shuts down that attempt with only the best of intentions, he makes sure you won’t stay flustered by your miscalculation for long.

Author's note: chapter 2 and I'm STILL nervous about posting kasjdfölksa I hope you guys enjoy though~ alsoalso I decided to do a taglist for this fic, so if you want to be added, just drop me an ask about it <3

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You drop your bag beside the entrance as you walk into Jongho’s apartment, the little melody resounding when the door falls into its lock that’s usually just another background noise to you manages to annoy you on this day. It’s only half past 4, yet you feel like you’ve been awake for more than 20 hours. 

You slip out of your shoes and step inside, the sofa in the living room being your destination. With a groan you let your body flop down onto it, the cushioned surface softening the impact. You’ve been at university since morning, your first class of the day being quite an interesting one and almost making you forget about the dreadful events that would follow suit. For lunch you met up with other students from your major to work on your group project, and these people really remind you time and time again why you absolutely hate group projects. You’re a group of seven, yet somehow the only ones taking the whole thing seriously are you and Yeosang, a guy you’ve done a course with before and who you luckily ended up being in the same group with. You know from back then that he does his work diligently enough - what you didn’t know was how badly the other five would do. One of them ran late, claiming he was convinced the meeting would start at 2 and not at half past 1, one of them didn’t show up at all, the others half-assed their parts and one girl only did half of what she was supposed to do. It’s a mess, and it’s stressing you out, because you’re getting a shared group grade for the paper. If you were being graded individually, you would’ve already decided to just do well on your own part, and make sure to precisely document who worked how much, but since you can’t exactly do that here it eventually came to the point where you decided it would be better if you took over the lead. As the person who has assigned herself the role of scolding the others into doing their work properly, you didn’t exactly gain their sympathy, but thankfully Yeosang was right there to have your back. Sharing their disdain was still better than having to shoulder it all alone, so you made a mental note to thank him with a cup of coffee or a meal later on.

But for now you want nothing more than to get this stupid project out of your mind, and lying motionlessly on the sofa and staring at a wall without any kind of distraction from your angry thoughts running wild isn’t exactly the best way to go about that. So you get up with a heavy sigh, peeking into your boyfriend’s room through the gap in the door standing ajar, before walking inside. He isn’t home yet - you assume he must be on his way, because his last class of the day should’ve ended about 10 minutes ago. Walking over to his closet, you open the side where he made space for some of your clothes, and you grab some comfortable pants and a t-shirt you haven’t worn in a while. There’s the logo of a game printed at the front - coincidentally a game you both used to play when you were still in school, and one of the topics you bonded over as you were slowly becoming closer.

You trod over to the bathroom, figuring you should take a shower in an attempt to clear your mind first of all - maybe you could magically find a way to wash off all the frustration the day has drenched you in. Either way, at least the warm water raining down on your skin has a calming effect on you, and so for a few minutes you merely stand there, doing nothing. You reach for the soap eventually, and as you’re cleaning yourself your thoughts slowly drift elsewhere.

Until you remember the conversation you had with Jongho about establishing a different kind of dynamic between you two. Your fingers dance up your body to your throat, and padding them onto your pulse reminds you of what it felt like to have his hand in this position instead. The thoughts of the project are quickly forgotten, yet your cells have not quite let go of the frustration yet - but that’s nothing a quick orgasm couldn’t take care of, right?

So you let your hands wander, allowing them to map out your own body wherever instinct leads them, and as your fingers find your core, you let out a long sigh. This feels like just what you need right now, so you don’t hold back, beginning to draw circles onto your sensitive bud. Feeling your limbs relax from the sensation, you lean your back against the wall, and eventually you reach out for the shower head, changing the setting to the highest pressure and letting it do the work for you.

You don’t think of much at all, simply enjoying the pleasure coursing through your body, until you can sense yourself coming closer to the edge, and you buck your hips up against the water jet.

“Fuck…” you whimper, as a scenario crosses your mind. “What if he finds out…” You gulp at the thought of Jongho figuring out you got off without him, in his apartment, and your mind begins to wander as you fantasize about all the ways in which he might punish you for it. Another curse escapes you through gritted teeth, and soon you feel your high crashing down on you, walls clenching around nothing as his name falls from your lips.

You step out of the shower feeling refreshed, purposely not changing back the setting of the shower head. You want him to catch you, want to know about all the things he would do to you that you haven’t seen him do before. Slipping into fresh clothes and wrapping a towel around your head to let your hair dry a bit before finishing the process with a blow dryer, you grin to yourself and you walk out into the living room. 

Your boyfriend comes home about half an hour later, just as you’re putting the blow dryer back to its original place in one of the cabinets in his bathroom. You suppress the excited grin that just won’t leave your lips, and instead greet him as per usual.

“You’re late,” you remark as you catch sight of the time displayed on your phone screen.

“Yeah, the subway was crowded. Should’ve taken the bus,” he mutters as he walks up to you, his hand patting your head in a gesture that’s supposed to say “I’m home.”

“Right, it’s starting to get bad at this time,” you continue your small talk.

“How did your meet-up go?”

“Don’t ask…” you brush it off quickly, hoping to ward off the stress creeping up to you again upon him mentioning it.

“That bad?” Jongho asks as he lets out a short laugh while he furrows his eyebrows, telling you he feels at least a little sorry for you.

“Yeah.” You roll your eyes. “And you? How was your day?”

“Don’t ask,” he answers, and now you’re the one chuckling. “I’ll go wash up real quick, and I think I’ll need some time to decompress afterwards.”

“Sure,” you mutter, before reaching up from where you’ve made yourself comfortable on the edge of the sofa, hand snaking behind his neck so you could pull him in for a quick peck on the lips. 

And so he disappears in the bathroom, you hear him turning on the water and you hear him turning it off again after a while, and with every passing second, the excitement for what’s to come is only growing. Except when he’s done, he simply informs you he’s going to game for a bit, and then he walks into his room. You’re confused to say the least, and a bit disappointed as well. This is not going according to the plan you had in mind, and you wonder if it’s just because he’s had a bad day or if maybe he just isn’t in the mood today. Trying to brush it off, you grab a book you started a while ago, staying out in the living room as you attempt to read a chapter or two, but somehow your mind just won’t let you focus on the story unfolding on the pages in front of you. So eventually you get up, deciding to sneakily follow him instead - you’re not sure why you’re being so secretive all of a sudden.

Your boyfriend is certainly good at reading the room, and it’s helped you leave behind your own awkwardness more than once. So today as well you decide to simply sit at the edge of his bed and watch him play his game, hoping for him to notice something’s off as you’re trying to find the right words to say. And without doubt, he doesn’t disappoint.

“What’s with you?” he asks in between rounds, his voice soft in contrast to the serious stance he tends to take on while playing his games. 

“Just…” you’re not sure how to start, how much to hint at what you want - you sure as hell aren’t thinking of just saying it straightforwardly, now that you’re beginning to feel a bit embarrassed about it.

“Hmm?” He drags out the sound a bit, then the image on his screen changes, and he adds, “Let me finish this and then we can talk?”

“Alright.” You’re suddenly more anxious than you would’ve expected yourself to be as you watch, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt the entire time. The time spent waiting for him to turn his attention to you feels like half an eternity, even though once he’s done you’re sure it can’t have been more than five minutes. He exits the game to the main menu, and as he takes off his headset, he turns to you in his chair.

“What is it?” You see worry on his face, and you immediately feel the need to let him know it’s nothing serious, really.

“Nothing bad!” you say. 

“That’s good,” Jongho answers, relief behind his words.

“Just… didn’t you… notice anything?” You rub your legs together as you avert your gaze from him, but even in the corner of your eye you can tell he’s thinking hard about your question now.

“Notice anything?” he repeats, and then suddenly his eyes narrow, and there’s an amused smile about to creep onto his lips. “Like what?” At this point you’d have sworn you could see the exact moment the dots connected in his head, so his question throws you off a little.

“Like… uhm… I showered earlier.”

“Good,” he chuckles, and you press yourself on to continue.

“And uh…. maybe got off…”

“Oh. That’s nice,” he replies, and once again you’re thrown off, this time by the way the tension in the room drops right away, and he’s now showing you a genuine smile. “Why are you telling me about that though? Want me to come watch next time?” He tries to throw in a joke, but the confusion radiating off you makes him think again, and well, now you’re sure he understands what you’re trying to get at, because he raises up his chin just a little, giving you that look that’s supposed to say “I found you out.”

“Were you maybe thinking I would punish you for that?” he assumes correctly, and you nod, heat rushing to your face now. 

“Yes…” Jongho laughs. It’s more of a giggle, actually, and the amusement in his expression only adds to your confusion. And then he becomes serious, though his features keep their softness.

“Look… I’m sorry to disappoint you but… I’m not going to do anything we haven’t discussed beforehand,” he explains, making sure to be clear about his thoughts. “My first impulse isn’t to punish you for masturbating. But if you want me to, we can talk about it.”

“O-okay,” you stammer, and once again there’s this endearing smile on his face, spreading from ear to ear. You know it’s meant to reassure you, but right now all you can focus on is the embarrassment burning in your chest from making such a severe miscalculation. This isn’t how things go in real life, of course it isn’t. You should know that, and yet-

“Hey,” he calls out to you, hand reaching for yours, giving you a squeeze to tear you out of your thoughts. “Let’s talk about it.” 

He’s also good at that - saying the right thing at the right moment. Or at least he tends to say the things you need to hear in moments like this, and once again you feel unmistakably that you’re safe with him, and that you’re in this together.

“Okay.”

“So…” letting go of your hand, he leans back in his chair, one leg crossed over the other, and you feel the dynamic shift ever so slightly as he won’t divert his eyes from you. “What kind of punishment were you thinking of?” You raise your eyebrows, and you begin to ponder on his question, but somehow your head is suddenly empty.

“I… don’t know…” you admit, and he grins at your words again.

“You didn’t think about what you want me to do to you now?”

“I mean… I did… but more… in a general sense,” you stammer.

“Like what?”

“Like… you fucking me…” And there it is again, that laugh that’s really more of a giggle than an actual laugh.

“You didn’t think about what comes before that?”

“Not… really?” you admit, and he clears his throat.

“Then how about I tell you what came to mind for me, and you tell me if that sounds okay to you?” You nod okay, and he continues, “So what I was thinking is that I could restrict you in some way… putting you in handcuffs maybe, or blindfolding you.”

“I don’t think I’m okay with the blindfolding,” you respond. “Handcuffs sounds… nice though.” 

“See? This is just why I didn’t want us to rush into this,” your partner says. “Because if we move too fast, misconceptions about what the other wants, or just about how this whole thing works are bound to go unnoticed.”

“You’re right,” you agree, being able to see where you went wrong with your assumptions clear as day now. “Then… let’s take it slow. Talk before we do stuff.” An awkward laugh escapes you as you’re speaking those words, because after all you were the one trying to rush into this, and now you can’t help but feel thankful that he stopped you just in time.

“So…” Jongho gets up from his chair, walking over to his closet and rummaging through one of the shelves, pulling out a dark red tie. “I think this is gonna look pretty on you. That okay?” You nod, merely watching as he walks over to you, and when he tells you to take off your clothes first of all, you don’t hesitate. Placing yourself on top of the bed, kneeling in the middle of it, he sits in front of you, and you hold out your hands for him to tie them together. “Not too tight?”

“No, it’s fine,” you answer, the soft texture of the fabric feeling quite good around your wrists, actually.

“I don’t have actual handcuffs, unfortunately…” he explains as he checks the knot one more time, and then he lifts one of his hands to run his fingers through your hair, eyeing you thoroughly. There’s a serious expression on his face now, he’s concentrated as he lets his fingertips brush against the side of your throat, but the way he allows for a smirk to creep onto his lips when you instinctively lean your head back to give him access tells you he’s very much having fun with this.

“You really like that, huh?” he mutters, wrapping his hand loosely around your throat, the warmth of his touch alone causing your heart to beat faster.

“Yeah…” you mouth, and to your disdain he moves on. His fingers draw imaginary trails down your body, moving slowly and deliberately, and his eyes follow their every move.

“So beautiful… too bad I’m gonna have to wreck you.” He speaks silently, and whether it’s because of the tone in his voice or his words you don’t know, but it’s giving you shivers all over and you gulp. His hand eventually finds its way to your side, snuggly fitting into the space between your waist and your arm, and he leans in to brush his lips against yours. It’s a short kiss, yet he lingers there for a few seconds before pulling back merely a few inches - the kind of kiss that’s meant to make you want more. “Want me to punish you, hm? Then, what if I push you a bit? Be a little less nice than usual and not give you everything you want right away.” You suck in a sharp breath at his words. “You’d like that?”

“Y-yeah,” you say, tension building up. You’re not sure what exactly he has planned, but you know he wouldn’t push you too far… right? He wraps the fingers of his free hand around your wrists, and as he brings them up above your head he pushes you back into the mattress, carefully, gently. And yet you don’t miss the dangerous glint in his eyes as he’s now gazing down on you, hovering above you as he pins you against the bed. Lowering his head, he makes you mewl as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, teeth grazing your skin as he scatters a few nips here and there.

“What’s your color, dear?”

“Green… very green,” you sigh, feeling his weight on top of your chest. 

“That’s good,” he speaks quietly as he comes back up, his face now being right in front of you and the tips of your noses touching for one short moment. You think he’s going to kiss you, but then he sits up instead, letting go of you to rid himself of his shirt. With every movement of his you can see the outlines of his muscles working underneath the skin, and the urge to touch him, to run your nails down his chest and his stomach, makes you bring your hands up. For a moment you forget that they’re tied together, and you frown at the restraint, and before you can do anything more, your boyfriend is quick to click his tongue at you as he reaches for your hands and pins them back down above your head.

“Wanna touch me so bad, hm?” he assumes correctly, and then he adds, moving closer to your ear, whispering sharply, “No touching unless I allow it.”

“O-okay,” you mutter. You can unmistakably feel the power he has over you now, both in the way you don’t have the strength to free yourself from his physical restraint, and in the way you feel yourself immediately submitting to his verbal restraint. 

“Stay like this,” he then says and you nod as he sits back up. This time he lets his palms run down your upper body once as he kneels on top of you, going over to dragging his nails down your skin once he reaches your hips and doing the exact thing you would’ve craved to do to him. But you obey, waiting patiently for his next move. “So pretty…” he mutters, his intense gaze burning on your skin, and after having his hands wandering all the way back up, he leans in to leave a trail of kisses down the valley of your breasts. And again there’s this urge to move your hands, to throw your arms around his shoulders as his lips are mapping out your features, but you can’t. You shouldn’t, and so you resist.

He kisses his way down your stomach, biting your flesh here and there without applying too much pressure, and the way he’s taking his time with it doesn’t help your case as you’re having an internal battle against your own impatience. Rubbing your thighs together as he’s hovering just above your core and he’s touching you everywhere but where you need him the most, you reach your breaking point.

“Jongho…” you call out his name. “Please.” He merely chuckles at your plea, not even looking up at you now.

“What?” His voice is low, quiet. Calmness radiates off of him, like he knows that he has all the time in the world for this.

“T-touch me please…” you mewl.

“Hmm,” he makes a noise as he appears to be thinking about your request. “But do you deserve that?” You let out a whine at his question, and you frown when he crawls all the way back up, only to press a teasing kiss to your lips. “Do you deserve my touch when clearly you decided that you can also just do the job yourself?” He moves up further, his lips brushing against your wrists just below where he tied them together, and then against the knuckles on your fingers. “Can’t get yourself off now, can you?” He places his hand over yours, pushing your wrists into the fluffy blanket as if to put an emphasis on his words. 

“Please…” you start another attempt at getting him to do what you want, but he merely sends you a smirk. 

“You’re choosing the shower head over me and now you think I’ll give you what you want so easily? That’s naive.” You frown, and you pout up at him, and for a second his features soften, before he moves his hand from your wrists to your chin, tilting it up slightly. Then he places a kiss onto your jaw, and he asks, “Color?”

“Green…” You idiot - you add in your mind, and when he comes back up to get a good look at your face, you can undeniably see the amusement on his face.

“Didn’t think you’d like being treated like this so much,” Jongho comments, and then he lets his hand wander from your chin down to your lower stomach. “Really makes me want to do this all day.” Fuck. You gulp at his words, thighs pressing together just as he slips a finger in between, dragging it up your folds once, and you don’t expect a singular touch to affect you this much, but you find yourself arching your back as you moan in response anyway.

“Relax,” he says, tapping your thigh once, and you do, spreading your legs apart just a little to give him better access. He doesn’t hesitate to make use of that, watching for even the tiniest of reactions as he gathers your juices on his fingertip, moving it back up and making you whimper as he begins drawing circles onto your clit. You buck your hips into his hand once, causing him to sit up so he could use his other hand to press them back down, immobilizing you. “So needy…” he breathes as he continues on, watching you, and granting you a few teasing touches to your wet pussy. He slips a finger inside, drawing another moan from your lips, and when he adds a second one, pumping them in and out of you at an unhurried pace, you think you could cum on the spot. And he notices the way he’s affecting you, because now he asks you with a cocky smirk on his face that bodes no good whatsoever,

“You like that?” You nod, whimpering, and when he pulls out, the feeling of deprivation that overcomes you makes you whine with anger - though you don’t sound nearly as angry as you would’ve liked. “Too bad.”

“Keep going, please…!” you try to beg, and it seems to strike something deep within him, because now he raises his eyebrows at you, listening intently.

“What was that?”

“K-keep going… please… please…” you add, the desperation in your voice being obvious. “Don’t stop now… w-wanna cum on your fingers…”

“I’m sure you do, dear,” he whispers, leaning in to place a soothing kiss onto your tummy, but it just makes you more furious.

“Please!” you cry out, balancing on the edge between pleasure and frustration, and you know that you wouldn’t want him to push you any further. For a second you wonder whether you should tell him, ask him to go easier on you even though you were the one who wanted him to punish you so badly. But he seems to notice your inner conflict, and his smirk softens into a benevolent smile as he brushes his lips against the inside of your thigh now.

“Is that where the line is?” he asks, and you hesitantly nod. He comes up to comb his fingers through your hair, brushing away a strand that’s sticking to your forehead. “Then let’s not take it any further than this, okay?”

“Yeah.” He cups your face with his hand, thumb brushing against your lips, and he questions,

“What do you want me to do, love?”

“Fuck me… please…” you say with furrowed brows, and he chuckles at the sight in front of him. Caressing your cheek as he slowly takes his hand away in order to rid himself of the remainder of his clothes, he retorts,

“I can’t believe someone could say something so dirty with such an innocent expression on their face.” And now that you’re becoming aware of what you must look like right now, you find it funny too, and you let out a short laugh.

Your boyfriend places himself on top of you, one hand wrapping around his length in order to give himself a few strokes until he’s fully hard, while he has the other placed next to your head to support his weight on top of it. “Wanna hold onto me? Or…” You shake your head. “Want me to pin you down?” Adrenaline rushes through your veins, making you tingle all over from the thought of it, and you nod. Again, he seems amused by your reaction. “After all that you still want me to manhandle you, huh?” Him saying it out loud fills you with bashfulness all of a sudden, and still you feel the need to confirm that he’s right.

“Yes… please,” you mutter. He positions himself in between your legs, aligning himself with your core.

“You good?” he asks, and when you give him the okay he pushes into you. 

“Fuck…” The feeling of having him finally filling you up makes you hiss a curse as you’re throwing your head back from the overwhelming satisfaction. Jongho reaches for your wrists, pinning you down just like you had asked, and he leans in, his nose brushing against the skin right in front of your ear.

“Can you do me a favour, then?”

“Wh-what?” you stutter, impatience building up inside you again.

“I want to hear you beg for me again… can you do that?” You whine as he rolls his hips into yours once, and without hesitation you grant his wish.

“Please… please fuck me…”

“Mhm… that’s right…” he mutters, and from the way his voice changes as he begins slowly thrusting into you, you can tell he too has been exerting himself holding back from touching you properly more than you thought. 

“Please… feels so good… b-baby please…” you keep going, your moans turning into mere whimpers when he reaches down between your bodies in order to tend to your clit. “F-fuck… w-wanna cum on your cock… wanna cum so bad…!” you whine, racing towards your high at lightning speed. 

“Shit, you’re perfect,” he utters, his hips beginning to stutter, and the groans falling from his lips becoming more frequent. “So fucking perfect.”

You cry out when your high comes crashing down on you, hands formed into fists and your nails digging into your palms. Once again you try to instinctively throw your arms around your boyfriend’s shoulders, and when you meet resistance as he’s still pinning you against the bed, your mind is flooded with that much more pleasure. He cums with a broken moan as you’re beginning to come down from your high, whining from the overstimulation as you let him thrust into you a few more times, and then he collapses on top of you.

Both panting, he lets go of your wrists and you immediately bring your arms up to put them around his frame, and this time he lets you. Eventually, after catching his breath, he rolls over onto his back, sitting up and undoing your restraints.

“You feeling okay?” You nod at his question, your eyelids too heavy to open, but you smile at him.

“More than,” you mutter, and when he lies back down beside you, you snuggle up close to him. Reaching for your hands, he holds onto one of them, thumb rubbing circles against your wrist, and when you look up you find worry in his eyes. “I really am okay, baby,” you whisper one more time, and he instinctively brings your hand that he’s holding onto in closer to his chest.

“Okay…” he just says, trusting your words, and you send him a sweet smile. Freeing your hand from his grasp, you bring it up to his head, fingers combing through his hair.

“Thank you…” you say, slurring your words a bit as the blissful afterglow of your high lingers in your mind. Your boyfriend lets out a sigh, eyelids fluttering shut at the sensation of you massaging his scalp. “For being careful. And for taking care of me so well.” And now there’s this smile creeping onto his lips. It’s barely noticeable, and yet you can tell how your words are affecting him. And in the next second he throws his arm around you, catching you by surprise as he pulls you on top of himself and engulfs you in a tight hug. He says nothing, you know that sometimes it’s hard for him to speak his mind in moments like these, but by now you know him well enough to know what he’s trying to convey with his actions. You giggle at the way he presses a kiss to the side of your face before having you rest your head atop his chest, loosening his embrace a bit to allow you to lie down comfortably. You too snake one arm around his waist, and with your heart swelling with your love for him that seems to know no end, you bury your smile in the crook of his neck.

[ch4nb4ng]

Stress relief

Pairing: afab!reader x Chan

Word count: 4.5k

Genre: friends to lovers

Warnings: Kissing, mentions of gentalia, handjob, tit job (?), praise, creampie

Note: idk if anyone is actually going to read this because I haven't posted in like 10 months so yeah but rusty but genuinely enjoy writing this so much

Summary: You were a great student, and Chan was struggling, bad. This is what happened when you tried to reduce his stress by 'studying.'

Time was nothing but a mindless construct for you and the many young individuals that attended college. Prestigious or not, it was deep into the second semester of your second year, and if you had to look at one more textbook about a specification type of referencing, you were going to explode. 

Being a psychology major was something you had worked toward for a long time. Having a job that nurtured people back to optimal health and wellbeing was something that always felt nice on the tip of your tongue. Nice to tell people, nice to give to people. That didn’t mean it did not come with its challenges. Researching, literature reviews, group assignments… It was hard and enduring work.

It was helpful that by the end of the first year you had discovered others on the same greuling yet rewarding path. Having a decent support system was essential, especially when traveling to the other side of the world to study. The 4 boys and two girls, who would be named Felix, Changbin, Hyunjin, Chan, Mina and Lia would be the be all and end all for you. Crying together, partying together, doing everything together. Traveling to South Korea was difficult at first. Adapting to the culture and language, so having them by your side got you to where you were today. Life is stressful currently, but then again, things could be worse.

**

“Okay class, this is the last class for the semester, so if you have any questions, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

You listened eagerly, wanting to pick up on any tips or tricks necessary to ace the exam. Cognitive psychology was a piece of cake to you, so this exam was in the bag. The others… not as much. Changbin and Felix were pretty good, thanks to Lia helping them every other day, and Mina only liked to study alone, got too distracted by the lot of you which to be fair, isn’t hard. You were a loud group. Most of the time you studied on your own as well, the occasional time with Felix if he was bored or needed to catch up on notes from readings (and by catching up on notes, basically just stealing yours). But most of your time was spent with Chan. He was good, but always needed a little bit of extra help. He was kind of whisked into psychology, not really sure what he wanted to do. Therefore, Chan had little to no background before coming into the degree.

“Ms, is Piaget theory required for this exam?”

“Tsk, yes Chan,” she replied, much disdain to her tone, “have you not been listening to anything for the past 6 weeks?”

Tiny giggles permeated through the room after the professor's sarcastic response. It made your skin crawl, and not in a good way. It was quite rude if anything. Chan laughed it off as well. He was the type to just laugh things off, but you could tell on his face that he was nothing but serious when asking his question. His ears began to turn red, sinking into his chair simultaneously. 

Luckily the bell rang, and you had never seen someone zoom out of a classroom as fast as Chan did. You chase after him, wanting to make sure he was okay and not feeling completely humiliated. It felt like a marathon, you were very much out of breath by the time you caught up to him. Slapping a hand on his shoulder, he turned around, the unintentional force causing him to face you.

“Jesus christ Chan,” you stumbled, completely out of breath, “why did you have to run so fast?”

You looked, a weak chuckle coming from his lips, a single tear simultaneously dripping out of the corner of his eyes. Your smile faded, beginning to feel really bad for your poor friend.

“Sorry Y/n,” he whispered, wiping it away quickly with the sleeve of his hoodie, “you’ve caught me at a bad time.”

You motioned to the bench next to you, sitting next to him as you rubbed his back in circular motions. Chan was such an intelligent individual, it made you feel sorrow when he doubted himself, and this was one of those moments. 

“Oh Chan don’t even worry about that,” you cooed, “she’s been rude all semester, definitely had a stick up her ass or something because I have no idea what her problem is.”

That made him giggle, turning to you and grabbing your hand as a silent thank you.

“Yeah you're right aha. I’m really struggling with the cognitive stuff though, and I have no idea how I’m going to do this exam.”

The other, who moved at a normal, not heart attack inducing pace, finally caught up to the two of you,lips pouted and solemn as they noticed Chan was having a down moment.

“Aw Chan it’s ok,” Felix hummed, giving him a bright smile, “we will all help you, promise.”

“Yeah,” Changbin chimed in, “let’s have a study session at Chan’s, tomorrow, 3pm good for everyone?”

Everyone nodded in agreement, you and Chan following behind the rest. He grabbed your wrist, making you stop in your tracks, “Y/n, could you come an hour earlier? Just so I don’t sound like a complete idiot? Also, they’re kind of hard to keep up with. I like the way you explain things.”

You’d be lying if you said the skin on your arm was burning up. He didn’t know, too innocent to realize, but his praise had an effect on you, one too many times. You would like nothing more than to take care of him, in all the ways anyone could imagine. Wash his clothes, feed him an insurmountable quantity of food. Was his hair in the shower, lather his body in soap and just, well, you know. The chiseled state of his body was no secret. The many beach trips accounted for that. Chan was a very good looking man, one of the first things you noticed when Felix introduced you to his friends. However, it was something that you suppressed deep down. A romance was the last thing you needed.

 Your cheeks follow a similar temperature. The thought almost made you dizzy. You blinked a couple of times, coming back to your senses and not trying to look out of the ordinary.

“Uh yes,” you shrieked, the attempt to act normal utterly dismissed, “of course. Anything to help you out.”

You continued to walk together, a million thoughts running through your mind as you attempted to keep them subtle, failing to rope them in and keep them at a minimal level.

**

To describe you as nervous was an understatement. Your hairbrush ran through your hair in a frustrating manner. You felt stupid, ridiculous even. If you had a dollar for every time you went to Chan’s dorm, you would be a millionaire, why did this time feel different? Looking at yourself in the mirror, you sighed, putting the last touches of your makeup before grabbing your keys and walking across campus, heading to your ‘friends’ door.

A gentle couple of knocks was all it took for you to be greeted by your handsome friend. His hair was swept back, forehead showing. His outfit was casual, black hoodie, black tracksuit pants. It was nothing different to what he usually wore, but he looked ten times hotter than usual.

“Y/n,” he groaned, “thank god you’re here.” 

He dragged you inside, closing the door behind you. He began to pace back and forth, biting on his fingernails simultaneously.

“Chan slow down, what’s wrong?”

“I opened the textbook, and I can’t stop freaking out. Y/n I’m so stressed, why are you not pacing with me?”

“Because,” you laughed, gripping his forearms stopping him in his tracks, “by the end of the day, you will understand Piaget, and every other theory we need before the exam, okay?”

You were close, eyes piercing as you gave him a loss of reassurance. You weren’t sure if it was your mind playing tricks on you, but it felt like Chan was moving closer. His eyes began to bore into yours, holy fuck he was hot. 

You broke away, not wanting to misinterpret anything. Taking a seat on his couch, you picked up his textbook, scanning and analyzing what he was trying to understand. Chan sat right next to you, thigh distractingly touching yours as you attempted to read. You could feel his gaze over his shoulder. The smell of his cologne flowing into your nostrils, becoming intoxicating. Your frustration began to increase. You knew that you were being unreasonable, but it was like he was trying to seduce you. You were already out of your mind, and nothing in the slightest of being sexual had occurred.

“Chan, I can hear your breathing down my neck.”

“Oh,” he moved away, “sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

“Are you sure?”

“What?”

You put the textbook down, turning your body to face him. The look of concern on his face, like the one you were met with when you opened the door had not disappeared. A look of disapproval now on yours.

“Can you please talk to me?”

“What do you want to know?”

“What exactly is stressing you out?”

A large sigh escaped his lips, 

“I just feel like I’m failing. I had to convince my parents to live here instead of Australia, and I just feel like I’m not living up to what they expected.”

Your heart sank at his words. You sat there for two minutes of silence. You weren't sure what you could say that would be perfect and what he needed to hear, but it didn’t mean you wouldn’t attempt to.

“Chan I-”

“And I have other needs as well.”

At first you were confused, completely unsure of what he referred to. Your mind was ticking once again, rummaging to what he referred to. But when it came to your mind, your eyes widened, mouth dropping before you spoke.

“Oh, I get what you mean.”

“Yeah.”

Another couple of minutes of silence passed as you looked around, refusing to make eye contact with each other. An idea popped into your mind, but it was way too inappropriate to ask. You wanted to help him so badly though, a proposition if you will. It was such a fine line to cross. It really was inappropriate, but the innocent look on his face was triggering something in you, sparking your innermost fantasies and desires. 

You don’t know what took over or what in your right mind possessed you to do what you did next, but time moved and all of a sudden you were on top of Chan, arms wrapped around his neck as you looked down at him, like a predator hunting his prey.

“You know, I can help you if you want?”

A large gulp was evident as it paced down his throat. He wasn’t sure what to say, him now analyzing if he himself was being too inappropriate to take you upon your proposition. His hands spread across your rear, gently nudging you forward. He was in unfamiliar territory, not sure how to proceed.

“Did you mean with studying or, you know, my needs?”

The look you gave him was priceless. It was amazing how genuinely oblivious Chan was sometimes. You got up from his lap, saying nothing and walking towards his room. He followed, closing the door behind him, even though nobody else was home.

“Sit on the bed.”

He did as he was told, legs spread wide at the edge. He always sat like this, and it turned you on, every single time. Chan, without knowing it, just looked so cocky, so arrogant, and fuck, did you used to like arrogant men. The ironic thing was that he was the complete opposite. Smart, kind, generous and warm to others. He was probably the only guy that you met that had all the qualities you looked for.

But that was irrelevant now. This moment wasn’t about how likable he was, it was about how hot he was. You took two steps closer, lifting your arms above your head and discarding your shirt. You could hear the audible gasp that escaped his lips, stunned by the way your chest looked. You did not assume that this would happen, therefore the reason why you had no bra on. You stood there, chest inline with his face as he watched you with so much intent. The way he was taking you in, drinking you up like a crisp, refreshing beverage. Chan, not a complete virgin, had little experience. He was a hard worker, never giving into his temptations. If anything, it kind of explained why he was so intense ¾ of the time. Nevertheless, it made your insides throb the way he gazes at you like you were the most beautiful woman on earth.

“If you don’t want this, talk now.”

You waited for what felt like 5 hours, but was really thirty seconds before he shook his head, vigorously. The notion made you smirk. His eyes remained wide, focusing nothing but the curve of your boobs. He went to lift his shirt, thinking it would be the right thing to do seeing as you were half naked yourself. But you said no,grabbing his wrists and placing them on your own zipper. His fingers gently shadowed yours, the sound of the zip the only noise filling the room. Stepping out of them quickly, simultaneously pulling your underwear off as well, another gasp escaped his lips. You were now fully nude, him fully clothed. There was something sick to you about getting off at the fact he was fully dressed and you were the opposite. 

“Like what you see?”

“Mhm,” he gulped once more, “really, really beautiful.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, but that wasn’t the time for this. Dropping to your knees, your fingers began to fiddle with the drawstring of his own bottoms. It did take long, seeing as Chan liked to wear very baggy clothes. They came off in one swift motion, spreading his legs even farther apart so you could fit right in. He was already extremely hard, the sight of your tits getting even near his cock made him twitch. Looking up at him, his chest was visibly tense, like he was holding in a large breath.

It wasn’t until your hand gripped the base of his length, and you started pumping, was when his chest fell deeply, almost concave in. His facial expression still looked tense, however, you could tell it wasn’t a look of agony, it was quite the opposite. A small whine escaped from his lips when you added another hand, adding more friction to his cock and you began to pump him a little faster. 

“Shit,” he mumbled under his breath, too embarrassed to allow you to hear his satisfaction. The muscles in his legs and arms were much looser than they were prior, and the fact that you were only using hands was absolutely blowing your mind. Your arousal was increasing. Seeing how pathetic and easy it was to turn Chan on. 

“Is that good Chan?”

“Yes,” he breathed, barely able to get his words out, “that feels so good, fuck Y/n.”

The breathy tone of your name sent a shiver down your spine. It had been a while since someone made you feel like that. You felt like he needed to be rewarded. You maneuvered your body closer, but taking his hands off of his length, placing them on either sides of your chest as you took him in, watching his length slide in the crevice of your tits. Chan jumped out of his seat, jaw slack and dropping to the floor as he watched his extremely hard cock disappear in between your cleavage. Eyes remained on him, your core was throbbing harder, watching his face contour, eyebrows strongly furrowed; he was enjoying every single second of it. Your chest moved with anticipation, tongue sticking out to reach the slit of his tip every time it reached the peak of your cleavage.

“You’re so cute,” you smile, “you’re so pathetic you know, have you ever done this before?”

“No,” he moaned, hands already gripping his bed sheets forcefully, “you’re right, I’m so pathetic.”

“Oh you like that? You like when I take control?”

“Yes.”

“You’re such a good boy,” you coo, picking up your pace, “taking my tits so well aren’t you?” His head rolled back, eyes closed but looking like he was looking at the ceiling. It was almost as enjoyable for you as it was for him. The textures and ridges of your cock not going unnoticed. He felt amazing, and your mouth began to salivate because if he felt that good in between your tits, he would feel 10 times better inside of you. Chan came back to life, head snapping back into motion as he looked down at you, so much innocence yet corruption filled his being. You moved away, hearing the sound of disappointment come from Chan’s lips as you stood up.

Lifting a hand, you pushed him by the chest, laying him flat before crawling on top of him. Still sitting up, you hovered over intertwining your fingers with his and you lined yourself up with his cock. A sudden pang of doubt creeped into your mind. Was this the right thing to do? Did you feel the need to do this to satisfy your own wants and needs? 

“Are you ready for this?”

He said nothing, only nodding because he knew that if he tried to speak, it would come out as a voice breaking murmur. Placing your hand on his shoulder, straightening your back, allowing yourself to sit on top of him. A small moan escaped your lips as your clit landed on his cock. That was fortunate. A hiss escaped him. Chan had been super patient until this point, it kind of made you feel guilty for making him wait. But another part of you kind of loved this almost sick power you had over him. He was so complicit, not doing anything and letting you take control. It felt rare, because most of your previous partners needed to have control.

“Do you mind if I do everything myself?”

His eyes never left yours, biting down on his bottom lip as he shook his head, eagerly waiting for you to get on with it. You lifted your hips once more, taking the hand that was intertwined and bringing it to the base of his length. A moan in unison, one of relief and gratification as he effortlessly slid into you. Chan was a decently hung man, but it didn’t matter anyways. You were already so wet and so turned on that fucking him would be a piece of cake.

“Fuck,” he cursed, eyes glued to your tits as the had a light bounce. You began to gently rock, not wanting to overwhelm him at a rapid rate. This was supposed to be relaxing for him, and it was, feeling his cock already twitching inside of you.

“You’re not going to cum are you?”

You leaned forward, pressing your lips softly against his. The electricity was great, moving with so much attention yet sensuality you slipped your tongue inside his mouth. A soft groan vibrated from his mouth the longer you kissed him. Breaking the kiss, he looked up at you, keen to answer your question 

“No,” you whined, unsure what to do with his hands, “sorry I’m just so excited.”

“You’re excited?”

“Yes,” he replied looking back up at you, “I can lie and say I haven’t thought about this before?”

A mischievous gasp left your mouth at his words. The combination of him thinking about fucking you and actually fucking you was causing your body to heat up. The temperature in the room increased and the tension felt even thicker than before. You kept a slow pace at first, hands on his shoulders in your attempt to remain balanced. It truly was adorable at how into you he truly was in this moment.

“We can do this as many times as you want now baby,” you cooed, “this is only the beginning if you want it to be.”

You picked up speed a little not wanting to go too fast, but needing just enough friction and gratification to work towards your high. Chan was so immersed in you that his hands barely lingered across your hips. It had come to your attention that maybe he genuinely needed some assistance. It was clear that even though the agreement was that his stress relief was in the palm of your hands, it was important to him that for you, it was equally enjoyable.

“You know you can touch me,” you whispered, giving his palms a gentle nudge upwards. It didn’t take much, almost like his hands were in, or on, their most natural position; your tits. A gentle moan escaped your lips at the contrasting ice cold temperature of his fingertips lingering on your nipples. The long string of moans and gasps from Chan was becoming anything but adorable. Each noise he made aroused you even more. The gentle massage of his hands was delightful. It wasn’t the first time you had thought about this. Especially when you were frustrated, stressed, or having a dry spell, the physicality of Chan was always a lingering cognition. Always there to coax you through your sexual frustration. If anything, this became stress relief for the both of you. Chan because he was stressed out because he needed to pass the exam, and yourself because now you didn’t have to suppress the surplus of fantasies and desires that stayed awake in your mind.

“Mmm, how are you doing Chan?”

“So good,” he growled, “I don’t know if I can last much longer.”

A small giggle escaped your lips. Keeping your composure, but really you were grateful because you could feel the pit in the depth of your lower abdomen. Your orgasm was coming, and there was nothing you could do about it. Although you did all the work, his cock was hitting you in the exact spot you needed. The slapping of your ass against his groin was getting louder, and you rhythm faster yet a little erratic, the intensity of him starting to overwhelm you.

“Y/n, wait,” he paused, making you stop in your tracks, “I don’t want to cum in you.”

A pout puffed from your lips at his words.

“You don’t?”

“Well,” Chan gulped, “I would, but I didn’t think-”

Instead of letting him finish, your index finger was across his lips, completely shushing him.

“You shouldn’t assume things about me Mr. Bang.”

You picked your hips up again, leaning back on his knees he bucked your hips, rapidly feeling the strokes of Chan’s cock. You wanted him to cum, you wanted him to cum so badly. The way you were dying to see the face he made when he came, how he looked at you was your soul volition in this very moment. 

“Are you gonna cum?”

“Fuck, Y/n please,” he moaned, his loudest noise yet.

He nodded, jaw slack open as you rode him like your life depended on it. His cock was twitching at a rapid rate, hipe gently bucking into yours as he felt his high coming. 

“Would you like to cum in me?”

He nodded once more.

“Cum in me Chan, cum in me, come one baby, you can do it.”

 Chan mouthing ‘fuck’ one more time, before completely blowing his load inside of you. His jaw cracked, distressed gasp strangling his throat as he grabbed your hips, controlling your speed as you milked him dry, your orgasm waving over you simultaneously. 

“Oh my god,” you moaned, knowing Chan was guiding you through it, but at this point, you didn't even care. It felt too good to discipline him for not letting you do everything. You stood up, a sharp groan coming from you as you felt his seed drip out. 

“Fuck, what if-” 

“Don’t worry,” you interrupted once more, “I’m on the pill.”

A sigh of relief disappeared from his chest.

You lied down next to him, trying to catch your breath as he turned to look at you.

“How do you feel?”

“Y/n that was amazing?”

You chuckled at his admiration, turning to him and seeing the sweat condensate across his forehead. Wow, did you make him work up a sweat.

“Still stressed out?”

“Far from it.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it, hope I wasn’t too overpowering or anything.”

“Absolutely not,” he scoffed, “it was really fucking hot actually.”

Fuck. You kissed him again, really enjoying the validation of your feminine power over him. It was a nice moment, that was until you heard a knock on the door. Fuck. The two of you were so immersed in what you were doing, that you completely forgot about the study session with the others.

“Shit, uh, just put your clothes on, I’ll stall them.”

You nodded, quickly redressing yourself and heading to the bathroom. You cleaned yourself up, looking at the mirror and shit, did you kinda look like a mess. A pang of embarrassment hit your chest. How on earth were you supposed to just hang out with your friends, and act like you didn’t just fuck one of them. Nevertheless, there was no time to think about it, fixing your hair as much as you could before opening the door, and returning to the lounge where the others smirked at you when you walked in.

“Hey guys,” you smiled, choosing to ignore them, “what’s going on?”

“What are you already doing here?”

The two of you gave each other a quick look, praying to the lords that you came up with the same explanation.

“Oh me? I only got here like 5 minutes before you guys.”

“Oh you did,” Felix chimed in, sarcastically placing a hand on his chin, like a detective, “and Chan, why do you look almost sweaty?”

“Uh me, well I just had a shower before you guys got here. Then Y/n knocked about 10 minutes later.”

You shrugged, nervously chuckling and just praying they were taking this.

“Fuck Y/n, please,” Changbin whined, mocking Chan. Your eyes grew wide.

“Yeah come on baby, cum in me cum in me,” Felix added, making everyone burst into laughter. Your face was as red as a bunch of tomatoes. They heard everything. Fuck, this was embarrassing.

“You guys don’t have to lie, you know. We saw this coming from a mile away.”

“You did?” The two of you asked in unison, making the rest of them laugh again.

“I mean yeah,” Felix shrugged, “I’m sure this is what all the ‘extra studying’ was for.”

“No dude,” Chan began to yell, even you giggling at him now getting defensive, “I do need help! I’m terrible at this!”

“Is he y/n?”

“Terrible at psych? A little,” you paused, sitting down next to Felix on Chan’s couch, “sex? Absolutely not.”

[jesncin]

The Potential of Asian Lois Lane. Pt 1: Girl Taking Over and American Alien, a comparative analysis

Lois Lane has had many iterations over the years. But specifically in the last decade, Lois has been reimagined as an Asian American woman in both the comics and recently in the animated show My Adventures with Superman.

I believe making Lois Asian is a very inspired choice for the Superman mythos! I would like to take a moment to analyze these versions of Lois from an Asian perspective, seeing what works, what doesn't, and what I'd like to see more of. We'll start with the comics first, as MAWS is going to need its own post.

Usual disclaimers: I'm just one Asian perspective, I do not and never will claim to cover every Asian person's opinion on a thing ever. We're not a monolith, we come from a variety of backgrounds and experiences. I'm simply a fan who enjoys media analysis and believes it's valuable to have my perspective in this topic. Secondly, this discussion covers the comic run American Alien, which is written by Max Landis. He's an ultra creep and while I think the comic is worth a read for what it is, I leave it up to you whether you'd like to buy the comic. You can always arg-arg-ahoy otherwise.

I'd like to start with Girl Taking Over: A Lois Lane Story written by Sarah Kuhn with art by Arielle Jovellanos. This is a self contained YA graphic novel about a young Japanese American Lois dealing with the ups and downs of breaking into journalism as a career in National City. When her dream internship at Catco gets a corporate take over, Lois seizes an opportunity to write an exposé on a shady art director. But when her story is turned down, Lois does some out of the box things to get the story of marginalized performers shared with the world.

Girl Taking Over is a fantastic story and I happily recommend it to anyone looking for how an Asian American Lois could be reimagined (with fabulous art by Arielle! The fashion especially is on-point). This story isn't just a diverse coat of paint on a Lois Lane story, being Asian informs Lois' experiences and choices. Both she and her frenemy roommate Miki, are ambitious Asian women yet have hidden insecurities where they still made themselves small to their respective white male bosses. They played into model minority in different ways, and it's only by working together that they're able to foster a community for their stories to be told.

Lois and Miki don't just "have a diverse friend group", that friend group is actively being taken advantage of and suppressed by white gatekeepers. By extension, Lois' friends from work find solidarity in each other. Lois looks up to Cat Grant, a Filipina-American journalist, because seeing Cat succeed made Lois feel like her dream as a journalist is possible. I love how Lois' mom (a character so rarely expanded on in DC canon) acts as a voice of comfort for Lois in the story. All these characters feel holistic and whole, going through their own unique struggles.

It's clear from interviews with both the writer and artist that they care for the history of Lois, and saw an opportunity to reimagine her in a way that aligns with her character but also revitalizes her for new readers of color who aren't used to seeing themselves reflected in media. It's taking Lois' ambition and fearlessness and channeling them into the need to be a model minority, and the insecurities that can come from the desire to succeed constantly. It's taking a character historically frustrated by sexism and disrespected by her male peers- including Clark Kent (who got better treatment than her as a man), and expanding her to be a Lois that has to deal with both sexism and racism in the workplace. It's humanizing Lois' excellence into something painfully specific and relatable for many Asian women.

The only thing I feel I want from this version of Lois is... honestly more of her! I want to see what Japanese Lois does when she moves to Metropolis and works at the Daily Planet. I want to see how her experiences in National City informs her adulthood. Girl Taking Over sets up an incredible groundwork for stories to be told in the Superman mythos. How would Lois react to Superman, a fellow immigrant? Would Superman see himself in Lois? Since she's someone who, in the American context, is perceived as the perpetual foreigner? What would their relationship be like? Out of all the Asian Lois' in media we have so far, this Asian Lois' story has the most rich potential in my opinion.

Up next, we have American Alien written by Max Landis. This 7 issue series swaps artists for each issue, as a means of reflecting different milestones in Clark's life. I will be focusing on issues #4, 5, and 7 since those have the most prominent Lois appearances. With that, I'd like to celebrate the artists for those issues: Jae Lee (issue 4), Francis Manapul (issue 5), and Jock (issue 7). All these artists did a fantastic job, their art styles are energetic and fun to look at. Lee and Manapul are both Asian artists (Korean and Filipino respectively) and I love how they draw Lois- who looks undeniably Asian in their art styles.

American Alien is a modern take on the Superman tale. It expands Clark's story to be connected to Batman, Green Lanterns, Green Arrow, and more. We see Clark grow from his days in Smallville to a city boy in Metropolis, coming into his own as Superman. It's a bold and pretty divisive take with some standout story moments. From what I know, this is likely the first time Lois has been reimagined as Asian- and continues to influence Superman media like MAWS (the producer specifically calls out this comic as inspiration).

In issue #4, Clark moves in to his Metropolis apartment and talks on the phone to his mom about "some bigshot guy named Louis Lane". The reader, likely familiar with the Superman mythos, knows Clark is coming in with biases and a preconceived notion of who he considers a promising student reporter. Once we meet Lois Lane however, the comic turns the reader's expectations on their head:

Lois Lane is an Asian American woman (it's not specified what her exact ethnicity is)! This is a fun moment where the comic metatextually challenged the reader's own biases, showing it's not just Clark who had a different idea of who Lois Lane could be.

Lois' introductory panel is my personal favorite part of her characterization in American Alien. Lois proudly stands as a wall of text behind her recounts how she was considered as a winner for the Daily Planet's Charlton Memorial Laureate Program. When asked why she deserves a place on the program, Lois snaps back that the very question itself is loaded. She's listed her credentials and looks professional- so she's either already been rejected and is just being made to "at least had my say" or she's been accepted and is "meant to garnish my success with eloquent affirmation" to which Lois refuses to do either.

This is a great defiant introduction to Lois, showcasing how jaded she is with the way the world perceives her- but is very confident in her self worth as a journalist. By the end of the issue she reaches out to Clark to combine their exclusive interviews into one story to make a big impression on the news. Her words inspire Clark to seize an opportunity to make a big change in the world as Superman.

Afterwards, the comic plays the classic Superman and Lois dynamic straight. Lois is initially suspicious of Superman, but eventually comes around and is inspired to hope through him. There's a great back and forth between the two where Lois' words initially inspire Clark to be Superman, then Clark assures Lois that Superman is probably just a good guy, and when Clark loses hope from a bad day of heroism, Lois gives him hope again. In the end, Lois realizes her love for Clark Kent over Superman and they share a passionate ending kiss.

Overall American Alien nails the Clark and Lois dynamic and understands their relationship. I consider this Asian Lois "just okay". I like that we get to see an adult jaded Asian Lois meet Clark Kent and Superman, and see them get together. Similarly to Girl Taking Over, I'd like to see how this Lois and Clark would play out. My only issue with American Alien's Lois is a sense of missed opportunities.

The writing overall leaves room for plausible deniability over Lois' Asian identity. The artists (particularly Lee and Manapul) are doing the heavy lifting delivering Asian Lois. If she was drawn as a white woman, none of the writing would need adjustment. Sure her introductory panel implies that people judge her based on her appearance- but that could be just sexism instead of the intersectional experience of Asian Lois going through racism and sexism. Clark did assume she was a man after all- it's never specified if he assumed she was a white man. The only thing you'd lose is the metatextual shock value of Lois Being Asian This Time. That's really what this Lois boils down to, initial shock value with no specific writing to follow through. Her marginalization and identity is written broadly enough that it could be attributed to general sexism and womanhood. It's not specific to being an Asian American woman.

However, because of its broadness, there's room for Lois' Asian identity to be built on in the world of American Alien. The story centers Clark's experiences, but I can easily imagine a continuation of the story expanding on Lois'. The basic groundwork is there. I think it's telling that in a comic called American Alien, we get a more diverse Superman cast system. Jimmy Olsen is Black, Lois Lane is Asian- when Clark moves to the city it feels expansive compared to Smallville. It's a world that feels ready to tackle themes of racism if it was ever to continue (and probably in the hands of a writer with that kind of life experience!). In the end, there's room for this Asian Lois to be something special. Clark isn't the only American Alien in American Alien, if you catch my drift.

You can see how Girl Taking Over has a huge piece of what American Alien is missing. The characters aren't just diverse for shock value, they're not an aesthetic change over historically white characters. They have a story to tell that is inseparable from their identities. Whereas in American Alien, the art is doing the heavy lifting with the reimagined diverse characters- Girl Taking Over has both the writing and art carry the representation. Lois can't be changed into being white in Girl Taking Over.

Both of these stories have potential- but if I had the choice to pick which story should continue, it would easily be Girl Taking Over. This graphic novel works for what it is: it makes sense that this is a younger and idealistic Lois that hasn't met Clark or Superman yet. It's a YA book and Lois can absolutely carry a story on her own. What I want as an Asian fan, is for the potential of Asian Lois Lane to be seen through to the point it's considered the definitive version. As of right now, Girl Taking Over is a fun twist on the Lois Lane story. Not something that is seen as inseparable from the Superman mythos. However! If those themes of marginalization and immigrant identity are tapped into for both Superman and Lois Lane? I feel that has the potential to radically strengthen the overall themes of Superman. It's certainly been touched on before.

(TW/CW: racial slur mention in below image)

Superman Smashes the Klan by Gene Yang with art by Gurihiru is a retelling of the Clan of the Fiery Cross arc in the classic radio show The Adventures of Superman where Superman faces off with the Klan who had been terrorizing a Chinese American family. The graphic novel adapts the story to center the Chinese American characters, and makes it a point to show that Superman relates to them. If that dynamic was applied to Asian Lois, that feels like a definitive love story waiting to happen.

The classic two person love triangle with Clark and Lois is that Lois loves Superman and is indifferent to Clark Kent. She thinks Superman is this ideal macho man and Clark is a cowardly fumbling guy at work who rivals her. What happens when you take that dynamic and made it so Lois identified with Superman- the more othering identity? How complicated would that make Clark Kent feel? How would he navigate that when his marginalization isn't always visible? That's a whole new depth to the love triangle we're not used to seeing. I feel so far, none of these versions of Lois have touched upon this potential dynamic. The perpetual foreigner, Lois Lane and the ultimate alien foreigner that is Superman. The jaded city girl meets the alien farm boy who gives her hope. They inspire each other to be more of themselves in a world not ready to accept either of them.

Up next, we'll be discussing My Adventures with Superman's Korean Lois Lane in pt 2. It's well. You can probably guess how I feel about it from what I wrote here but welp. We'll talk about it.

[elliespeach]

tear you apart | ellie williams

˗ˏˋ"if your friends won't watch over you, i will." ´ˎ˗

pairing ellie wiliams x fem reader synopsis ellie owns her own vinyl store and the day you wander in changes both of your lives forever. she quickly becomes infatuated with you, desperate for your love that she believes is meant to be. when things in your life begin to spiral, ellie is there to catch you, but you'd never suspect she was the reason you fell in the first place. heavily heavily based on the book/tv show "you" on netflix wordcount 4k warnings gosh where do i start, stalking both cyber and in person, ellie is obsessive, manipulative, a gaslighter, a pervert lowkey, possessive and easily jealous, she breaks into readers apartment and goes thru your stuff, shes also so delusional like top tier delulu, shes based off joe goldberg so i mean put the pieces together. this is all from her perspective, most if not all of the inner monologue is ellie's thoughts about you, the italics is verbatim what she is thinking in that very moment if that makes sense. like joe, all of her actions are justified in her mind, and she doesn't see anything wrong with them. reader has a dysfunctional family. pls lmk if i am missing something! authors note hi hello hi, i have been so excited to post this!! just wanted to clarify this rn, i am bringing in a LOT of elements from the book and show, especially in this part, if it seems very similar thats why. i don't plan on following the plot line for season one, but i needed a good base to jump off of, dont hate me. n yes, readers best friend is shauna from yellowjackets i couldn't help myself. i needed a girl group, sue me. cat is apart of this girl group, not ellie's ex along w dina, also not ellie's ex in this au lol

fuckin’ trash, ellie thought to herself, looking over the torn up vinyl in her hands. the guy who returned it obviously had no fucking clue how to take care of something. especially something so needing of love. she placed the vinyl down on the counter beside the register before stepping into the back of the store, grabbing her tools of restoration. as she rummaged through a drawer, the familiar bell rang from the front door indicating a new customer, but she ignored it and continued searching for the sandpaper she always left laying around somewhere. the last drawer she opened was the winner, taking her supplies, she emerged from the small room into the front of the store, the beads in the doorway swaying as she walked through them. 

thats when her eyes found you, examining the vinyl left on the counter. you hadn’t noticed her yet, too engrossed in the mishandled vinyl. she watched you for a moment as you looked it over, tracing the scratches that lined it. to ellie, you looked to be the definition of a nice girl. sporting a flowy sundress that laid just below your ass. nice girl who likes attention, she thought to herself, looking you up and down from afar. 

she played it cool, keeping her eyes on the sandpaper and cloth in her hands as she made her way back to the counter. you finally took notice of her when she stood in front of you. “oh, hi,” you smiled brightly, to which ellie looked up. “whoever handled this vinyl should be in jail.” a sense of humor, ellie smiled at you, letting a breathy laugh fall from her lips. and an appreciation for vinyls, rare.

“a life sentence, for sure.” she spoke, and you laughed. a laugh that was genuine, not forced by politeness. 

“can you point me to where i could find a david bowie album, ellie?” you asked sweetly, and she had to remember she wore a name tag. flirting with me and you like david bowie? ellie’s grateful its a tuesday afternoon, the store is dead. giving her more time to talk with you. you, who seemed to never stop smiling at her. 

“against the wall,” she pointed. “third box from the left.” she lets you wander over yourself, taking the time to admire the way you carry yourself. you had a pair of red, heart shaped sunglasses resting on your head. ellie could tell you liked to pay attention to details, it was evident in the way you matched your sunglasses to your dress, and she wondered just how many pairs you owned. both short dresses and uniquely designed sunglasses together. her head tilted at the thought, switching her over chewed gum to the other side of her mouth. 

you rifled through the box as ellie’s gaze pierced your back, although you were seemingly unaware. david bowie, she thought again. not another stuck up gen z who only listens to who is in the top one hundred, no. no, you were special. ellie put her focus onto the vinyl in front of her, slowly dampening it with the cloth before grinding the sandpaper over the scratches. but she kept you in her peripheral vision and she couldn’t help but notice you were struggling to find a specific one, or at least it looked like it. 

“need help?” she asked you, keeping her voice neutral.

your body turned to face her, meeting her eyes and a faux pout on your lips.“i think the only one i want isn’t here, or i’m seriously blind.” 

ellie chuckled, coming out from behind the counter, “my money’s on blind, just organized this box a few days ago.”

you huffed lightly, standing to the side while she approached you and the box. “i can’t find the rise and fall of ziggy stardust, it’s one of my favorites.”

of course it is. ellie barely looked in the box before she saw the album, pulling it out and holding it out for you. “i’ll book your eye appointment,” she said with a light grin. 

“ugh, my hero,” you gushed, taking the album from her hands gently. i’ll always be your hero, but something tells ellie that you didn’t really need her help to begin with. 

“c’mon, i’ll ring you up,” ellie led you back to the register and you placed the vinyl down on the counter lightly.

“promise i won’t do what that guy did,” you joked, reaching into your bag for your wallet. 

ellie almost wishes you would. you’d come in a few days later, apologizing for being so clumsy but asking if she could fix it for you. of course, she would say yes. how could she say no to someone like you? “you couldn’t if you tried, pretty sure he did it on purpose.” 

“what makes you say that?”

“just a hunch,” ellie shrugs, scanning the barcode on the vinyl. 

“maybe his dogs got it, or worse, his kids.” you kept eye contact as you spoke, which shocked ellie. a lot of people would break away, divert conversation, maybe even stay silent all together. but not you. 

“if that guy had kids, i’d feel bad for them,” to a lot of people, this comment would rub them the wrong way, and ellie internally cursed herself for saying it. you’re a sweetheart in her eyes, someone who wouldn’t think things like that, but again, you laughed. the transaction was almost over and she was grasping at straws, so she kept going. “guys like him blame everything on everyone else, i wouldn’t be surprised if his kids actually hated him but,” 

your head tilted, waiting for more. to ellie, it looked like you were hanging onto every word she said. and she relished in it. “–thats only if someone wanted to have kids with him, which i highly doubt.” 

“from what i’m hearing it doesn’t sound like anyone would want to,” you’re trusting my judgment. ellie’s lips curled up with your words, and she bagged the vinyl in a plastic bag. you handed her a credit card, which was decorated with flowers along with your name. and you want me to know your name. you could’ve used cash, the vinyl was less than twenty dollars. but no, ellie knew better and she knew you better. your eyes found the scratched up vinyl yet again, “but you can fix it?” 

ellie swiped the card against her own wishes. she’d give you the whole store if you asked with that pretty smile. “it’ll be back in the box within the hour, why? you like pink floyd?”

“yeah, for the most part. i haven’t listened to that album yet,” 

“i can put it on hold for you.” ellie rushes out, and she feels like she came on too strong. you could easily listen to it on spotify but she reminds herself that you’re in her store for a reason. you probably own a vinyl player, an older model you got off of facebook marketplace because the newer ones don’t match your personality. maybe a pioneer or a yamaha, and now shes thinking about how you probably dance around your room listening to music. your response breaks her from her imagination. 

“that’d be great, thanks ellie,” but she can see it so perfectly in her mind, you’d wear a big t-shirt and a dainty pair of underwear. twirling and spinning about, the t-shirt riding up as you did and as you stood in front of her in that short dress her mind seemed to unravel and she had to clear her throat. 

“anytime–” she tacked your name at the end of her words with a smile, handing back your card which you very quickly put in your wallet. her eyes glanced down for a split second, admiring how the dress pushed your tits together before bringing them back up to your face. 

“aren’t you going to tell me to have a good day?” you teased much to ellie’s enjoyment, reaching out for the bag she was holding for you. 

“have a good day,” your fingers grazed hers, and ellie knew it had to be on purpose. a flirt, and a good one at that.

“you too, ellie. i’ll be back for that album.” 

you left the store as quickly as you came, taking your sweet vanilla scent with you. ellie thought about your interaction all day, it consumed her walk home and when she entered her small apartment she fell to her couch and opened her laptop. 

plugging your name into any and all social medias was easy, who could forget a name like yours? all your accounts were public, and very quickly ellie could tell just what kind of person you were. the sweet girl who loved vinyls who had an addiction to posting online. your twitter was filled with random, obscure thoughts and always with a hashtag at the end of them. from time to time you’d tweet about where you were, and ellie tsk’d out loud to herself. anyone could find you within seconds, you need to be more careful. you seemed to tweet about everything in your life and ellie refreshed the page, wishing to see a post about the cute girl in the vinyl shop who helped you find your favorite album. 

yet, there was nothing. and for a moment it hurt her, but the more she thought about it, it was better you didn’t post about her. that means it was real for you, hope remains. 

facebook provided the basics of your family, although the account was inactive. but your parents who divorced a few years back seemed to only post about your younger siblings, leaving her to wonder if they didn’t approve of your lifestyle in the city. she stalked their pages like it was her job and at this point it felt like it was. she discovered that your two younger siblings went off to college out west and your parents even sold their home to be closer to them while still living separate lives. ellie felt pity for you, how could they just leave you behind? 

your instagram feed was an aesthetic one, pictures posted solely to appease your followers. a pretty sunset here, a mirror selfie there, a quick post about the food from the restaurant just down the road from ellie’s shop. there were also posts about your own art, colorful and detailed, just like yourself. a painting you did was the last thing you posted, but this one wasn’t like your other ones, it was black and white and had a lonely floating balloon in the center and the borders were lined with overlapping words. ellie could make out only a few of them, ‘melancholy’, ‘nobody’, and ‘distress’. 

there were lots of group pictures of you with friends. ellie could see you looked more authentic than them, who all seemed to resemble something out of a factory for young adults. you were a pearl in a sea of clams. 

out of curiosity, ellie brought herself to your friend’s pages as well. she needed to see the types of people you spent time with, seeing if they were someone she would approve of for you. one friend made an appearance more than others and she assumed that was your so-called best friend, a spunky city girl named shauna. her own instagram was like an influencer’s guide to posting online, and she seemed like someone ellie would avoid at all costs. shauna’s posts of you always had you in the background, or if you were directly in the frame it was a candid where shauna looked better. she's making herself look better at your own expense, can't you see that?   

your other friend’s social media were bland and unhelpful. ellie brought herself back to the task at hand. she typed your name into google and watched the loading screen. your name brought up a string of links all connecting back to your art pieces you’ve submitted to local papers and art galleries. an artist in new york city, aren’t you ambitious. maybe your parents didn’t like the instability of being an artist. but yet, you still pursue your passion. its admirable. 

what also popped up was a white pages link, with a few clicks, and a small charge to her credit card she found exactly what she was looking for. there wasn’t much she could do with your phone number, texting you would be creepy. there was no way for her to explain how she got it, so the next best thing was your address. which, lucky for ellie, was only six blocks from her own. 

if she could find it this easily, she needed to make sure that no one else did. which is how she found herself standing across the street from your apartment, peering into the windows that had no blinds, no curtains, no protection from the outside world. you were on full display for all of new york. first thing were doing together is buying you blinds. you were lounging around on your coach, scrolling through your phone and periodically shifting in your spot to get more comfortable. 

it was dark now, and again, luckily for ellie, someone standing on the sidewalk of new york wasn’t a weird thing to do and no one paid her any mind. for days she would stand in the same spot, studying your movements throughout your apartment. sometimes you would go to bed on the early side, but most nights you were fully awake, sipping something out of a purple mug which she could only assume was coffee, and drawing lines on a canvas. 

everytime you would take a break and scroll through your phone, ellie would refresh every social media, waiting for a post. your fingers danced on the keyboard and after a few refreshes on ellie’s end, your twitter had a new post. 

@yndoesartstuff: if anyone has tips on how not to procrastinate finishing a wip, please enlighten me

if you just put down your phone, i’m sure you could get it done.

one night she watched as you dipped your wet brush into the purple mug instead of the designated paint water cup. they didn’t even look similar, but ellie laughed to herself while you groaned, tossing your head back before getting up to dump the liquid out of the mug. this would also be the first night ellie gawked at you while your hands dipped below your shorts, she quickly looked around. no one else seemed to notice that you were pleasing yourself with your own gentle hands and her eyes found you again, sprawled out on your couch. 

your back arched, obviously hitting your sweet spot and ellie swallowed hard. blinds. were getting you blinds. 

some days, ellie was too busy with the store to watch over you and she hated herself for it. too tired to walk the six blocks and instead just looking over your social media again, looking through your friends posts to see if you’ve been up to anything. you had never come back for the album, which ellie had finished nearly two weeks ago now. but tonight, as she locked up the store she knew she was going straight to the sidewalk adjacent from your apartment. 

when she arrived at her usual spot she saw you through the windows and you looked too well put together for a night to yourself. you were dolled up and ellie liked to imagine it was for her, you’d leave your apartment and head to the store for the album you said you’d come back for weeks ago. but her hope was squashed when a cab pulled up outside your apartment and a woman who looked way too old started to walk up the steps to the building and entered the main door. ellie had been here enough to know the general look of your building's inhabitants, and this woman wasn’t one of them. maybe someone's mom, maybe she's visiting a friend. she can’t be here for you. no way. 

but through the windows, with no blinds, she saw you open your door for this woman and welcome her into your home. your mom. it has to be. ellie’s eyebrows narrowed when you pulled this woman into a hug, then pulled back and let your lips kiss hers. okay, so not your mom. who the fuck is this?

ellie, whose eyes were going from her phone to the big windows of your apartment, began to search through your online presence and found no traces of her. this mysterious woman who, now, you seemed to be having a highschool make out session with on your couch, was all over you, touching you, kissing you, and worst of all, pleasing you. that sweet smile that had previously been for ellie, was now for this woman and it made ellie’s stomach turn. but she didn’t leave, instead watched while the two of you began to peel each other's clothes off. 

were getting you blinds and were getting rid of this woman. 

the next day while she opened up her store, she couldn’t help but think about you and this woman. she was frustrated, of course. but she couldn’t blame you, obviously this woman was prying on your weaknesses for her own pleasure. taking advantage of you. it sickened her, and she had to know more. she had been through every following list she could think of and still, this woman was a mystery. and as she refreshed your twitter (a new hobby of hers), a new post popped up. 

@yndoesartstuff: lunch date with @shaunamavisxx never felt so right – at hoppers tavern

seeing that, ellie locked up shop way too early. it was fairly easy to make her way into your apartment, all she had to do was play the part. “sorry, my girlfriend hasn’t given me a key to this door yet,” she said with a friendly smile to your neighbor, who out of the kindness of his heart let her into the building. she waited until he was in his own apartment before picking your lock. 

it smelled like you once she stepped inside, and she let the aroma fill her nose as she walked around. it was messy, canvases piled up everywhere along with dirty paint brushes. clothes lined your floor from the bedroom all the way to the kitchen and she had to force herself not to clean it up for you. she examined your paintings up close, admiring how the strokes on the canvas looked. she noticed you draw a small bird in every corner, the bird is plump, uncolored and holding a small twig. it was your signature, and it matched you so well. but, what she really was after was your laptop, she found it sitting on your unmade bed. 

no password? she was shocked, and made a mental note to tell you that you needed to secure your devices. it’s almost as if you wanted her to search through it to get to know you better, and ellie did just that. it was linked to your phone and as she went through your messages they all seemed to be relatively normal. for someone like you, at least. 

loads of messages from a group chat labeled city gals, and she knew it wasn’t you who had named it being as you were funnier than that, and less basic. scrolling up, all the conversation in the chat was merely nothing of note, no mention of this woman to your friends which ellie found odd. maybe just a hookup? but even then, wouldn’t you tell your friends? 

ellie could gauge your friends' personalities through the texts they would send, shauna was most definitely the unnamed leader of this group, probably also the one who named the chat. her texts were mostly about planning activities, meanwhile the others just tacked on with fake enthusiastic responses. even yourself. 

leaving the group chat, she continued to scroll down your messages and found an unsaved phone number which seemed to be the winner. you don’t have her number saved, this is good. a lot of your texts to her went unanswered, left on seen and only responded once you’d ask for her to come over. that usually generated a reply within minutes from this woman, who ellie still didn’t know the name of. it angered her even further, realizing she was just toying you along. only using you for your body when you were so much more than that. 

ellie jotted down the unsaved number into her notes app, saving it for later when she could find out just exactly who this woman was. it was clear from the texts that she wanted nothing to do with you, and you still kept texting her like a sad puppy. it was pathetic, really, but ellie didn’t judge. she knew that your attention seeking habits were brought on by your dysfunctional family, she just wished it was her on the receiving end.

she found herself in your emails and saw you had an abundant amount of unread ones. it was a lot of spam and a waste of time, so she moved on. she decided it was best to go into your search history, restaurants, art galleries that allowed online submissions, sometimes even silly questions that ellie would most definitely answer for you if you asked. 

“how do magicians do their cutting in half tricks?” you would ask her from the couch while ellie made you both dinner. 

she’d call out from the stove, “there’s a fake table, the girl puts her legs through that. the legs you see on the other end are fake, baby.” and you would giggle sweetly as you always did, thanking her for being a know-it-all. 

but as she continued to scroll further and further down your search history, she saw that the day you two had met, you googled “vinyl stores near me” and ellie’s was the first to pop up. she thanked every star in the universe for such a coincidence, but the more she thought about it, it couldn’t have been a coincidence because to her, it was always meant to be.  

suddenly your laptop dinged and a new message appeared at the top from city gals. it was shauna and she was proposing a night out and it didn’t take long at all for the rest of the chat to respond. 

shauna: drinks at our favorite spot tonight?

dina: totally what time 

shauna: like 8 ish? 

cat: sounds good to me

shauna: im with our heavy drinker, she says yes too!! see u guys then

dina: hangin w out us :( rude 

cat: yeah wtf 

shauna: oh hush its no biggie, we’ll see you guys tonight 

ellie sat back as the texts rolled in, heavy drinker? ellie didn’t like the sound of it, and your friends seemed to think it was funny. bet they don’t even watch over you when you’re plastered, leaving you alone where anyone could hurt you. a few clicks on your instagram and she found a group mirror picture in a dirty bar bathroom, and the location clear as day at the top of the post. she confirmed it with a few other pictures and a deep dive of your twitter. gotta stop putting your location everywhere. 

ellie knew your lunch date with shauna would be ending soon and you’d return home to start getting ready for the evening. she shut your laptop down, placing it exactly where it was on the bed before and started towards the door to leave. as she was on her way out, a bright red thong caught her eye. it was so carelessly thrown between the couch and the table next to it and she stuffed them into her pocket before locking the door behind her on the way out. she knew you’d never notice, your apartment already looked like a tornado had been through it seven times over. 

she played with the string of fabric in her pocket as she walked down the sidewalk back to her place, contemplating the night to come. if your friends won't watch over you, i will.

read part two here :)

[petrawood]

I keep thinking about the Jonathan Harker Time Loop and how most posts are about the poor guy having flashbacks or trying to somehow sidestep The Horrors. You know, all reflection about how we see him.

But listen.

How about how HE sees US?

Imagine you are Jonathan Harker, and you are leaving for a work trip. You haven't really travelled much, and you are very excited, so you do research about that fascinating country called Transylvania, you write down your train schedules, the names of the cities you pass by, the recipes you find interesting or unfamiliar. You really want to remember everything, after all, you know you are going to spend some time away and you are sure Mina would love all the details of this little adventure! You are going to miss her so much, so making sure that everything is accurate so you can later faithfully recreate your journey makes you feel closer to her.

You could do without those weird dreams, though.

Moreover, since the beginning of your travels you have kept meeting more and more people.

They strike you as strange.

Most of them greet you as if you were old friends, clapping you in the back and talking about how happy it made them to receive the letter about your upcoming job trip, which you find mildly confusing, and the familiarity that they spark on the depths of your mind somewhat soothing.

Others smile at you and wish you fast and happy travels, something mournful gleaming in the depths of their eyes, and you feel like they are not really looking at you, but at some other man standing right behind you.

"Maybe this time it will go well, right?"

And you have nothing to say about that.

Some people you can tell recognize you, but don't really come near. They seem hesitant, and not as overtly familiar as the previous groups of people, acting instead in a manner more fitting to strangers. They follow you at a distance, looking torn between curiosity and dread, and you can tell that this is their fist time making this journey as well.

Then you get to Transylvania, and the entire crowd seems to go mad.

While you had only been meeting people in groups before, now they seem to cover almost every free inch of the country, coming together in thick clusters that somehow never actually seem to encumber your travel. They read what you write over your shoulder, they nod at the scenery and watch all the people getting in and out of your carriage.

They seem to be specially fond of the villagers, in spite of the country people's apparent lack of interest in them, since as far as you have seen the two groups never actually cross words.

In one particularly noteworthy morning you have paprika for breakfast, which is met with great approval by all.

You get closer to Castle Dracula, and the amount of people still increases, although a low number of them appear and disappear just as quickly, checking on you and then departing. They explain that they will come back later, or that they are waiting for someone else, and sometimes you swear you can hear the sound of waves in their steps.

Of the ones that stay, some get close enough to stand with you, while others prefer to stay by themselves, either taking notes on their own journals or -something that baffles you every single time you see it- sitting behind some kind of canvas and mixing colors while they wave away your worries at the bumping of the carriage ruining their work.

And at last, after weeks of travel that somehow only feel like three days, you arrive at Castle Dracula.

You stand before a great door, waiting for great man, while a great multitude surrounds you, all their eyes on you.

You hear steps approaching through the wood, and the very universe around you seems to hold their breath, waiting for the beginning of a path that seems new but well tread, a path that just for that endless second you feel extending behind and in front of you, strengthening and waning, with its first knot waiting at that door.

So the strong wood opens, a Count makes his greeting, and you, together with all the people next and behind you, friends new an old, step through the door.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for fake dating my friend in order to prank someone I don’t like?

🧡💛🤍🩷❤️ to find

I (17F) have a friend “Hope” (17F) who I am very close with. We met about a year ago through a mutual best friend of ours, “Lily”(18F). The three of us have become extremely close with each other over the course of the last six/seven months, and hang out pretty much every week. We are also all gay (I’m a lesbian and Hope and Lily are bi) and we're all very comfortable with platonically flirting with each other to the point where people often think we're dating.

Recently, Lily and I invited Hope to our school’s prom (Hope goes to a different school), and we all wanted to take some cute pictures of us in our dresses. The grounds of where the prom was are absolutely stunning, so we, along with our friend group, went to go take some pictures a little bit away from the prom building. While we were taking photos, Hope and I started ironically flirting, saying stuff like “I wonder if anyone’s gonna kiss at prom” and “this prom isn’t gay enough yet”. Our friends then jokingly said we should kiss, and we went “why not” and did. Our friends took a couple pictures, and later that night we added them to a shared album of all our prom photos.

In the days after prom, we all planned what pictures we wanted to post on Instagram together. We all posted on our main accounts, but Lily and I decided we wanted to make funny/casual posts on our private spam accounts along with the posts on our main ones. Lily’s spam post ended up containing the picture of me and Hope kissing (with our permission ofc), and I decided that I wanted to post it on my spam too (again with permission). However, I was a bit worried about posting it solely because I have a couple people added on my spam that Hope dislikes.

Specifically, I am “friends” with a guy from Hope’s old school who was a toxic friend to her. I met him a while before I met her, so I didn’t know he was awful until many months into mine and Hope’s friendship. I don't really want to be friends with him anymore after everything Hope told me, but I have no way to drop him because we have a lot of mutual friends. We also share a lot of common interests and frequent the same places in town, so we run into each other at stores or events sometimes. However, Hope told me not to worry about it and that it’d be funny for him to see someone who he considers a friend be kissing someone he hates.

We then decided on a phone call that I would post the photo as its own post with the caption “is it gay to kiss your friends”, and put a popular lesbian song on the post, then refuse to give context to anyone asking. About an hour after making the post, however, the guy messaged me in shock asking when I’d gotten a girlfriend and asking who she was. (This wasn't asked out of him having an interest in me btw, he is gay and has a boyfriend). I told Hope and Lily, and we decided that Hope and I were going to keep up a fake dating bit in order to lie to him.

We have since made a fake anniversary post on our stories and have been planning out a whole backstory for our “relationship” to make it sound believable. We plan to keep this bit up for as long as possible solely for the point of pranking this guy, which we all think is a little bit mean, but he was a horrible friend to her and we don’t really feel bad for lying.

AITA?

[lediz-watches]

Oxventure

Because dammit, I need to smile today and no one makes me smile more than these people.

Oxventure is an amazing group of people that play tabletop roleplaying games on youtube and spotify. They are Chaotic Good in the best way possible.

And I think we all need more chaotic good in our lives today.

Okay, first off, I must show my colours: I have been watching their parent channel Outside Xbox almost since it began, and they are actually why I got a Youtube Premium account (Youtube, you owe these people more than 2/3rds of my subscription). They are my background noise. So obviously I'm biased, but this post is about the Oxventure channel and why I love it.

Lately, they've been marketing themselves as an actual play channel, technically rivalling Critical Role, but I don't like to think of them like that. To me, Oxventure is more storytelling improv that happens to use tabletop mechanics as a prop. And the reason that's an important distinction is because Oxventure is at its best when it's being silly.

So. Some background.

Oxventure is, in alphabetical order, Andy, Ellen, Jane, Johnny, Luke, and Mike, and a host of guests when they feel the need. It began as a one-off milestone celebration on Outside Xbox where everyone but Mike (he had a Car Thing) played Dungeons and Dragons--most of them for literally the first time--on camera. Since then, it has expanded into its own channel with six series of varying prominence and many one-shots.

If you want to see them at their most condensed and I would argue truest form, I recommend DnD but everyone is a Kobold.

Their shows can run the full gambit from silly (the kobold shows) to high adventure (Oxventure Blades in the Dark) to wholesome (Tea-Time Adventures) to absurd (DnD but it's Pokemon) to emotional body-slams (Oxventure Deadlands) to quietly creepy (Oxventure Wyrdwood). But at its core, whatever series you're watching, Oxventure is about friends gathering together to have fun as they make their way in a world that seems a bit insane.

The original game/series/what have you is The Oxventurers Guild, which remains my favourite. Their motto (seen in Latin above) is "Everyone Should Have Thought Of Everything", meaning that they have a habit of just diving into things without thinking and then being shocked Pikachus when the consequences arrive.

The characters (and world) are a mess, but the thing that was most wonderful is that the group were learning how to play DnD on screen. They screwed up the rules, they lost dice, they forgot about feats... a running gag is that Mike, playing a paladin, has only the loosest concept of his own abilities and will randomly read his character sheet to discover something that would have been useful last session. Meanwhile Ellen made arguably the most powerful character, with what should have been one of the most powerful spells, and yet was the first knocked out in their PVP session because of a few unlucky rolls.

Johnny is an amazing first-time DM, too, because they just... let the group play. They run with the rules until the rules stop being fun. And that's what makes Oxventure so enjoyable for me.

I remember trying to watch a few Actual Plays after the first episode of Oxventure, and I can remember the exact moment I checked out. It was when a player made a joke, and the DM gave her a very direct Look and firmly informed her that if she didn't immediately take it back, there would be mechanical consequences.

Compare and contrast Johnny, whose attempt to show the Oxventurers Actions Have Consequences nearly ended with a bunch of evil skeletons realising that actually, they didn't realise how hard it was to avoid evil consequences so maybe they should cut the players some slack and stop giving such horrible consequence - wait! No! Bad bosses no make skeletons behave!

(We love the Sixty Skeletons, Flaming Skull Foreman, and Skeleton Donkey) (don't ask) (it only kind of makes sense in context)

But that's not all on Johnny - a lot of it comes down to the beautiful muppets that are the original players, and specifically Andy, Jane, and Mike, who have been a chaotic force of good online since they joined together to form Outside Xbox in 2009.

These three, and by extension all of Oxventure, are a little silly, always snarky, incredibly good at what they do but always beset by terrible luck and worse technology. They are also incredibly well-meaning (and hilarious) even when they're actively trying to be horrible (unrelated to this post but PLEASE watch their Hitman videos for further proof of this). And that carries through to their characters, who can be card carrying evil and yet still care so deeply about their friends that you can't help but love them.

An example of their chaotic competence is in an episode of their latest series Wyrdwood. There was a short of Johnny and Producer Zack talking about how Wyrdwood is a very creepy series starring the human equivalent of the Muppets, which is so true, but I would like to draw attention to a specific moment to prove my point:

In this particular episode, Johnny has created a truly terrifying scenario: trapped in mist with music playing beyond their hearing, the team are being picked off one by one despite specific measures to the contrary, until the characters played by the Oxbox trio are alone in oppressive danger. Things look dire. They know they're in trouble and helpless. It's only a matter of time before they're all gone.

They promptly spend the next five minutes flailing, yelling at each other, completely ruin Johnny's nefarious trap, locate their friends, and set themselves up to win the whole day while seemingly focussed entirely on figuring out which of them should be blamed for screwing up.

Even Johnny doesn't seem to know whether to be offended their whole scary vibe was just destroyed or impressed by how effortless the trio made it look, and I feel like that's the correct response.

And I think that's what I love about this series, and these people. They give me a kind of... exasperated hope for all of us.

I have to admit, when I first heard about Wyrdwood and saw the art, I was worried, because I thought Oxventure were going serious. But then, only a few minutes into the first episode, Jane uttered the immortal words 'Luck Pervert' to describe Luke's newest character and I knew we'd be fine.

These people are silly. They tell silly stories.

But they are stories about love, and friendship, and trying even against impossible odds, and making tough choices, and growing as people. All while you and the world around you are a complete mess and everything seems insane. You can still be better, and make the world better, even if it seems like you're just making more of a mess right now.

You watch, and you cringe, and you sigh and call them all 'absolute muppets', and then you cheer as they come up with some insane plan that shouldn't work and yet always, somehow, without rhyme, reason, or explanation... works.

They are silly, and they are heartfelt, and I suspect I will binge-watch the entire channel all over again this Christmas break.

Because while the Oxventurers' motto may be "Everyone should have thought of everything", the fact is no one has. So just go with what you've got.

And it might work out okay.

[sarahreesbrennan]

sorry if you have already answered this, but are we getting any queer rep in Long Live Evil? 💕 i am super excited to see what you've cooked up for us either way!

I came back after I'd gone off on one, seeing the post had struck a chord and being thankful but fearful of my inbox. Let me say with delighted surprise that all the asks are very kind.

Thank you for this one, sweet anon. I am so excited and so nervous about my best beloved, Long Live Evil, and about coming back with a new book of my own after so long, when I believed for a long time it was hopeless.

I'm really grateful to find readers waiting for me. But I know readers are naturally more invested in characters they know: I extremely appreciate you taking an interest in the future.

So, short answer: YEAH you are!

Long answer: Long Live Evil wouldn't exist without its queer narratives.

C.S. Pacat and I were talking in our virtual Brookline Booksmith event recently about our favourite Disney villains. C.S. Pacat picked Maleficent, a fine choice. I picked Snow White's Evil Queen. We agreed we loved most of them.

Here's the relevant excerpt I was quoting in my last post from Carmen Maria Machado's In The Dream House, saying 'I think a lot about queer villains, the problem and pleasure and audacity of them.' Well... me too.

I think many of us have experienced feeling made wrong in some way - for not wanting what society said we should or being what we were expected to be - and that one step along that journey of discovery is going 'Okay, if it's wicked, I'll just BE wicked.' And that's part of why those characters appeal - because they seem free, and free of pain.

But modern storytelling isn't confined to coding, and audiences can now feel free to expect, not the certainty, but the possibility characters who aren't introduced as such still might actually turn out to be LGBT+. The essays I've read about Supernatural, Teen Wolf, Sherlock, Ted Lasso, Fox 9-1-1... I think the latest argued Jaime Lannister was bisexual. (Pretty persuasive.)

I remember reading the Raven Cycle going 'oh? OH.' I remember being at a writing retreat in 2013 and running through the halls screaming about Nico diAngelo. Ten years later we got a Nico diAngelo book co-written by Rick Riordan and the amazing Mark Oshiro. I watched Red, White and Royal Blue with a friend and she said 'honestly I hope the guys get together, but...' and I (having read the book) silenced myself with a herculean effort and watched her hopes come true. I didn't know about The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo and almost dropped the book in a swimming pool. But I've also read and watched many things thinking, just maybe... oh, no. Still that hope existing is meaningful, the thought that if the story had gone differently, if this revelation had happened, if this realisation had happened, if, if, if...

Long Live Evil is a story about the story going differently and asking yourself questions about your own nature, and the escape to fiction of those who really need escape. The book is based on that 'if,' and the 'if' itself is joyous, and brings me back to the idea of gleefully transgressing the narrative that much villain love is based on.

It's also an ensemble story with a rogue's gallery of characters and multiple PoVs. (I was much inspired by the Six of Crows ensemble.) So it isn't about any one character's romance, and by the book's nature there exist many possibilities. A critique partner read and said 'I didn't know you were going THERE' and I responded 'Should I?'

I've never been one to confirm where stories are going, and I won't do so now. I'm not talking about any one character or telling you a direction.

I'm just saying yes to rep. It's baked in.

[sourdoughsourness]

Assignment - Shigaraki x cheerleader!reader

A.N.: I've had this idea in my head for two years now and finally got around to writing it! This is heavily based on the book Nevermore by Kelly Creagh. I read it eight years ago and this scene has lived rent free in my head ever since. I highly recommend reading it if this is at all appealing to you, it's written much better too. I've also never posted on here before so I'm so sorry if the spacing or anything is off.

I haven't decided yet if I want to turn this into a full fic or leave it as a one shot (or 2-3 parts because let me tell you, there's more than one scene from this book I can't get out of my head) If I did continue I'd probably base it off the book for the first bit then branch off into its own plot. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it! I'm very rusty at writing but I tried!

~~~~~~

Class was so boring. It was no different from any other day really. This class was always boring. As much as you tried you couldn't bring yourself to care about the material. Your teacher had insisted since the beginning of the year that this class was important, but he was just another old man obsessed with the past. If it was a history class you'd understand more, but you couldn't find a reason to care about dusty old books despite them being praised as 'classics'. You shuddered just thinking about what he'd have you guys read next.

The clock ticked painfully slowly. You knew time always seemed to go slower when you watched it so you forced yourself to look away. Twenty more minutes. You could handle that. Just 4 sets of 5 minutes. That didn't sound too bad. 

Mr. Swanson's voice droned on. It was barely background noise to your boredom. Seventeen minutes until lunch. You wanted to be with your friends and boyfriend doing literally anything but this. Mina hadn't finished spilling tea earlier and you were desperate to hear the rest. 

Your thoughts were cut short when you heard the words 'group project'. All your senses came back as you focused on those two words which were pretty much the last things you wanted to hear. No no no no no! None of your friends were in this class! You knew basically anyone would want to work with you, but you work with any of them? Your classmates were about as lame as your dusty old teacher.

"I'm sure you've all heard plenty about this project from the seniors," Mr. Swanson's voice rang out. The whole class groaned. Everyone knew what was coming next but you still tried to deny it. Please no, anything but this, you practically begged the universe. 

"The Swanson Project," he declared. Everything came screeching to a halt. Suddenly reading a dusty old book didn't sound too bad. Everyone knew about the Swanson Project. It was basically the most infamous assignment in the whole school. You couldn't imagine a single person enjoying it. Then again there was probably some freak out there who was looking forward to it, after all, Mr. Swanson existed didn't he?

The project would already be bad enough, but you knew it was a partner project and whether partners were assigned or not you were pretty much fucked. Not a single friend, or even friendly acquaintance, was in the room. It was just your luck. All your friends had plenty of classes together but somehow you ended up with the unluckiest schedule possible. 

Mr. Swanson went around his desk gathering a monster of a syllabus which did not ease your worries at all. You knew this project was huge, but just coming to terms with the sheer amount of time you'd be spending with all these nobodies made you want to bash your head into your desk. You could practically hear your friends laughing already. 

"Now, just in case you aren't aware of what the Swanson Project is, let me explain." Your teacher announced walking back to the front of the class. "This project will consist of both a presentation and a 10 page paper. It must be detailed. You and your partner will choose any famous author. In the spirit of Halloween, the author needs to be dead. No current authors please. You will need to work closely on this project with a partner and it will be completed outside of class." 

Your annoyance was palpable and you were convinced anyone within a 5 mile radius could feel it. Not only did you have to work with some extra - as your boyfriend would call it - but it had to be outside of school? If you didn't need the stupid credit you'd be tempted to drop this class.

You couldn't imagine sitting down and reading through all those papers. Mr. Swanson would love it, you bet. He'd probably enjoy every second. 

Taking the time to finally scan the room and actually see who was around you, you spotted Tenya Iida. He was an obnoxious rule follower, but you knew how smart he was and he seemed like your best shot. Maybe you could slink your way over there, the seat next to him was vacant after all. 

Just as you were ready to get up and head over, Mr. Swanson's voice brought you to a screeching halt. "All partners were selected at random. I will read your names off a list then you will have the last ten minutes of class to brainstorm." 

Random? He chose the pairings randomly?? Now you really wanted to bash your head into the desk. God, why'd you have to take this stupid class anyway. Math and Science you could deal with. They made sense to you. Analyzing the colour of a light in an old novel didn't. Maybe you'd get lucky? That seemed unlikely, you frowned. 

"Tenya Iida and Hanta Sero," Your teacher's voice called out. Well fuck, there goes your luck. You knew you sounded ungrateful but god, group projects sucked. 

Mr. Swanson called out more names causing the students around you to start moving around. Was no one going to protest? Everyone was just accepting how unfair the system was?

"(Y/N) and Tomura Shigaraki."

What?

No.

No no no. No way.

No fucking way. 

This had to be a cruel joke. 

You turned your head slowly to look at your new partner. God even just thinking that screamed all sorts of wrong. Why did it have to be him? You didn't know what you did to deserve this cruelty but it must have been something horrible. 

He sat far in the back corner slumped and staring at the wall. His long blue hair draped around him practically covering his face. He wasn't even looking for you. You had to hold back a scoff. This could not be happening. 

You were on the verge of marching up to Mr. Swanson and asking for a new partner. Literally anybody but him. You had no clue how many of the freaky rumors about him were true, but you definitely didn't want to find out yourself. Unfortunately you knew asking to switch partners would go about as well as asking a pig to sprout wings and fly. 

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad? You bit your lip and grimaced. Even you weren't that delusional. With a sigh you got up to head over to your partner.

Shigaraki was lost in his curtain of white hair and hadn't even acknowledged your presence. What was up with this freak? Like hello? You were supposed to be working on a project. He wasn't even sparing you a glance. 

Your eyes wandered to the clock. Seven more minutes, you could do this.

Did he drink blood like the rumors said? You knew that thought was insane yet seemed totally possible. Did he talk to himself and practice witchcraft like you'd heard people whisper about? Maybe he'd teach you so you could curse Mr. Swanson, you thought bitterly. 

He was slouched in his seat wearing a black t-shirt, black jeans, and ratty old red shoes. His Nintendo switch sat beside him on the table. You didn't know much about Shigaraki, but you did know his father was insanely rich, like stupidly rich. That led to Shigaraki getting away with practically anything - including playing games in class apparently.

You set your notebook down as loudly as you could without fully slamming it to get his attention. He finally looked at you with a bored stare. God, had he never heard of chapstick? Maybe some moisturizer? 

"I'm not doing this project alone," you declared. Because really, what else could you say to him? You refused to be stuck doing all the work. 

His bored stare turned into a glare. "Did I say that?" He snapped. His voice was scratchy and you were pretty sure you'd rather listen to nails on a chalkboard than listen to him right now. 

"No." You wanted to just walk out then and there. Maybe the credit wasn't worth it. Mina would never believe this. Getting paired up with the biggest freak? It was unbelievable. "I just wanted to make that clear because you weren't saying a single thing." You finally slid into the chair next to his, albeit reluctantly. 

Two groups had already gotten up to leave, having chosen their projects. You couldn't help the envy bubbling up. Why couldn't Shigaraki act like a normal person? He apparently wasn't in any hurry to leave. 

Maybe Mr. Swanson's pairings weren't random and this was his idea of a sick joke. This is what you get for turning in your last assignment late, you thought bitterly. 

"I'm not doing it all either I hope you know. I know you little cheerleaders have brains the size of a peanut, but that doesn't mean I'll do it all," he sneered as he finally looked you in the eyes. You hated him already. 

His red eyes were intense making you want to turn away, but you refused to back down. It was like a predator sizing up its prey. You refused to be the prey. 

Your chest was flooded with discomfort. Who even was this guy? Who shit in his cereal? Your gaze moved to the scars on his neck. You'd heard about him scratching himself raw before, but seeing the scars up close still caught you off guard. 

Shigaraki leaned in closer causing you to meet his intense eyes again.

"What are you staring at?" He whispered.

You drew back instantly, face feeling hot. That's it, you were outta here. Your hand shot up in the air as you mentally begged Mr. Swanson to show you mercy just this once. You were not doing this today. 

You heard a slow ominous shuffle behind you. Your whole body went rigid. You slowly lowered your hand and looked up. There he was, towering over you. Tall and so very pale. 

You bit back a protest as he took your hand in his. You gaped as his long slender fingers gripped your hand, his pinky slightly raised. All you could do was stare, unblinking, as a black appeared and began moving against your skin. The tip was as cold and sharp as his eyes. 

What. The. Fuck. Was he writing on you?? 

You couldn't make a sound if you tried. 

His face remained unchanging, just as emotionless as before as he carefully slid the pen over your skin. The pointed tip of the pen slightly tickled creating a knot in your stomach. You couldn't even begin to comprehend what was happening. You were so shocked. All you could do was stare at his pale fingers. 

At last he finished and released your hand. With one final cold piercing look he turned away,  snatching his switch and bag from the desk beside you. "Don't call after nine," he said as he walked right out the door. 

Your face burned and your skin tingled where he had just touched you. Finally snapping out of whatever daze you were in, you scanned the room. You were afraid to see who noticed. What would people say? You let out a small sigh of relief. No one had noticed. Thank god. 

Finally you looked down at your hand. In black ink he had written "S - 555-0710”

[bonefall]

Do you have a design for Bright Storm? I'm fond of the wise older figure thing you're doing with her

I do NOW

Made her, as well as a revamp of my old Thunder Storm design (I last drew him like a year ago!!) in preparation for some character summaries I plan to bang out after finishing a couple drafts, but Bright in particular gets requested so much (anon you're like the 4th person) that HERE, lady girl and her son be upon ye

I'm thinking about doing the BB!DOTC character summaries in "family" posts, so they're all grouped together the way I plan them to act in the story. Every family is telling a little mini-story of its own, in a way, from the Frost family and their inventing prowess, to the Heart family and how the kits react to Bumble's exile, to the Storm family and how they grapple with Clear Sky's influence.

I wanted to make sure Bright Storm was very large and powerful looking, but in a round, kind of "humble" way. She downplays her strength, her intelligence, and even her better judgement.

So she has these big cheeks, fluffy primordial pouch, poofy tail, keeps her head low-ish. Tends to deny compliments.

I was commiserating with my partner the other day about how intelligent characters aren't allowed to be thick-bodied. So between my fat, beloved Bumble the translator and Bright Storm the wise woman battle strategist I'm feeding us both

I needed to "finalize" their stripe pattern, because I actually plan for TIGERSTAR to have the same one. I'm probably going to update my Tawnypelt and Bramblestar designs to have it too; if they don't look better with Goldenflower's.

I just like the irony and bitterness of it. That these ancient stripes, once so associated with compassion and righteous fury, turn into a "legacy" so divorced from what Thunder Storm and Bright Storm stood for.

Becoming a symbol for the idea of modern ThunderClan and the culture of the new times, not the principles it was founded on.

Also I HAD to do the design thing where Thunder Storm's stripes look like top surgery scars lmao, my beloved transmasc boy

Anyway, I've decided that Thunder Storm was a REALLY dark orange. It bugs me a little, especially in-canon, that he looks nothing like either parent. So in BB he's not too far off color-wise from his mama.

I also removed the old "mane" and replaced it with combination white chest + his father's shoulder burls. The mane is going to become a Forest Cat trait, which is why it's going to get so prominent in ThunderClan.

Instead, Mountain Cats have a REALLY high concentration of ear tufts in their genes. They're also huge and generally hairy.

Funny enough though they're also "oily." They come from the Lake Cat population which was pretty water-resistant because of constantly dealing with the lake, and they haven't lived in the Mountains long enough for natural selection to get rid of it.

It's going to become SUPER advantageous for those who move to the River Kingdom, but become less prominent in the other populations.

But for now, Mountain Cats are kinda... well, naturally 'stinky.' That's not a BAD thing to cats who are animals who LIKE strong smells, but it is a notable trait that I'd like The Wind Runner in particular to comment on.

Thunder Storm: "Well? What did she say?"

Bumble: "Ummmmmm......"

Thunder Storm: "be honest"

Bumble: "she says she smelled you coming when you were upwind. rudely."

99% of the time when I'm changing character eye colors, it's to make them NOT blue because there's too many blue-eyed characters in WC imo. BUT.

I think it was another tiny waste to have the narrative constantly stressing Clear Sky's blue, blue eyes, almost like they're hypnotizing, and then they never really comment on what Thunder's eye color signals to other people.

So I've got an idea; instead of amber, Thunder Storm has ELECTRIC BLUE eyes. Almost green, like his mother's minty ones.

Intense as his father's, but more focused. Sharp. Shocking.

Side note: in my research I actually learned it's easier for tripod cats to RUN than it is for them to walk. They can "canter" like a horse, but when they go slow they have to hop. Taking this into consideration.

I put a splash of white on the little bit of lower limb that Thunder Storm has on the leg, so it sticks out a bit more. I don't want it to be hidden I want it to be prominent

I also figured out a hilarious trick for Bright Storm to pull on Sky's Clan at some point lmao

Thunder's crew is in conflict with Sky's cats and the attacks are getting more and more frequent. They decide they need some extra time to carry out some kind of hunt or diplomatic mission, but Bright Storm only has a small group of cats to pull off a stunt with.

She knows she can't fight them head on, but she NEEDS to buy her son more time, so she hatches a plan.

Clear Sky values his intelligence and his ferocity very much. To a fault, even. He loves to outsmart his opponents and overpower them-- so Bright Storm gets all her cats to build a very large, very tall, nearly impenetrable wall out of briar thorns. There's only one way in; the well-guarded tunnel they've constructed in the front.

It would be a challenge for a lesser cat. But Clear Sky, clever devil he is, realizes they've made a fatal flaw; they've built their camp right next to the trees. His fighters don't need to jump over the wall or push through it, the oaks are their allies!

So, while Thunder's cats are all surely sleeping, he gathers his best men and come through the canopy. In well-trained patrols, they swoop down into the camp and prepare for battle.

and no one is there.

You see, there was only one way in... and only one way out.

And Clear Sky and his best fighters watch with HORROR as the tiny crew of guards seals that entrance up like the neck of a bag. There are no trees to climb INSIDE the wall, and it's too tall to hop out of. It won't hold them forever, but it will hold them JUST LONG ENOUGH.

Bright calls this little plan "Operation Timeout."

[stormblessed95]

BTS have always been the group to set their own course. They’ve achieved success beyond their dreams and dealt with their feelings about how to “land” successfully. Why not break the rules again and let Jikook come out after military service? Sure, it’s scary and somewhat risky. But this is what they’re all about, right? Jimin, in particular, is getting louder and louder in the queer coding. This travel show promises yet more questionable moments. Maybe next year really will be the year for him to address “all the things we couldn’t say before”…and I think the majority of ARMY can handle it.

I swear we just had this conversation a week ago right? Lol read these, my thoughts and opinions about this haven't changed in the last 6 days lol

I'll just put the paragraph from the last post linked that deals with this topic here for all of you too in case you don't want to read through the whole thing...

"As for KM coming out? It won't happen. And as much as they deserve to just love whoever they love, if that person is each other, that will firmly be kept a secret. Maybe one day after they disband and KM are possibly still living together and not changing their behavior or hiding it, it will be even more obvious. But I don't think they will ever confirm anything. And they shouldn't really have to. But if nothing else, it 100% will never happen before disbandment. Not only do they both still have to go through military service, where if you are caught engaging in homosexual activities, you can be jailed. Why give them more reason to look for that? Don't ask, don't tell. They probably won't come out after that either. As much as it SHOULDN'T matter if two members of BTS are dating each other, it would. It would take over headlines for months. It would be all anyone is talking about. It would be asked about in all the interviews. Their relationship would become world gossip fodder. And the focus would be less on the 7, less on the music they create and more on the social and political upheaval their coming out would be. That isn't fair to their hardwork, their passion and their life work. It also isn't fair to the rest of the band. Their sexuality would for a while, overshadow their music. I don't think they would ever take the risk of being remembered for who they love, rather than for what they loved doing. Hopefully that also made sense. Maybe one day they will feel comfortable sharing whatever their relationship is with the world, but they are under no obligation to ever do so and I personally don't think they will."

It would be wonderful if they ever did feel comfortable coming out and sharing more with us. That would be an ideal world. I just personally don't see that happening.